cartographie | inbox for golden peacock

（ he is just the most obliging packhorse to ever live. look, he's got two younger sisters and one of them is an avid shopper. following her around holding bags has occupied a not-insignificant portion of his teenaged years. ）

No, I asked because of the ranks. I know the rooms are shitty for the folks with a low rank, so if that was where you were I was going to offer to let you use my shower or something. Communal bathrooms are pretty crummy for women.

（ well-meaning, sexist chivalry. whoops. ）

I'm not an Espada, I'm something else. What does a pirate do?

I'll still take you up on it. It's not like I get a luxurious bathroom or anything. I bet you get free room service too.

[ Because she is, if nothing else, an opportunist. ]

Are you going to say what you are, or is this about to get weird and you change shape into a water buffalo or something?

[ Honestly, totally the kind of thing that might happen where she comes from. ]

Most pirates are assholes, honestly, but, my captain likes helping people, instead of ruining their lives. We're going to the Grand Line. Or we were before most of us ended up in this shithole.

I'm only a seven, so not as bougie as you'd think.

（ where the fuck did he learn the word 'bougie', actually? this card carrying nerd. reads shakespeare in his free time. translates english media into japanese. the whole shebang. ）

And — no, why a water buffalo? （ just. sidetracked by that comment, it has taken him the fuck out. does... does he seem particularly buffalo-ish?? his ego cannot take this. ）

[ Staring at him like she thinks the weirdest thing about that question is that he's asking it in the first place, Nami shakes her head slowly and stops to quickly sketch out the route through the pipes before moving forward through the tunnel. ]

Why not a water buffalo? So what are you?

[ There's not even a breath between questions. He can't just say something like that, especially when she's down here in the maintenance tunnels alone in the dark with him. ]

（ peering just a little over her shoulder to watch that sketch — ）

Do you know the word 'shinigami'?

（ well, somebody isn't thinking about how a woman might feel about being in a weird place with a weird guy who's being cagey about shit, actually. ）

[ From the direction of the flashlight she can tell that she is, and pauses in her drawing to reach behind her, guiding his hand to adjust the angle of the light before she finishes it up, her book tilted so he can see the whole page she's filled up on the basement thus far - all rough sketches and neat lines of numbers. ]

No, is it like a martial art or something?

Hey, you're pretty good.

（ it buys him a second, at least, to think about it. the english translation to god of death sounds pretty scary, so a direct translation is out of the question here. ）

I can see ghosts. Sometimes, spirits... need help getting to where they're supposed to be. So I'm one of the guys that helps them.

Almost like I've been doing it for a long time.

[ Lowering her book as he elaborates on what he is, Nami turns around to look him over again, peering through the darkness. ]

And...that's what you deliver? [ So, not shady. Maybe. She's mulling it over. ] Are there a lot of people who do that?

[ Nami's walking again before he can answer, making notes and stealing sideways glances at Ichigo as she goes.

"You've delivered too." Insists a whispered voice from behind them. "But unlike him, you're heartless. Drawing those maps for Arlong so he could pillage and kill more people, delivering secrets, and stealing everything you could." The sound bounces around the corridor, and Nami feels her stomach drop. Eyes blazing she whirls on Ichigo, jaw set in a furiously stony line. ]

What did you say? [ It doesn't sound like him, and yet, having never encountered a ghost before, nothing else makes sense. ]

（ he's opening his mouth to reply to her — to tell her about the delineation between unagiya and what he does as a shinigami — but his mouth snaps shut with a click at that whisper.

he's no stranger to hearing voices. from the first moment he laid his hands on zangetsu, when both shiro and the old man started muttering in his ear. he'd thought he was going insane until after he knew the truth himself, the dichotomies of his heritage finally rationalizing the trajectory of his life, the particularity of how his skills developed. but this one clearly isn't meant for him, and he stops — at once impossibly still and on edge. one hand extends on instinct alone — yet, despite his best efforts tensa zangetsu doesn't respond to him here. being without a weapon doesn't sit well with him, so — he just. braces a foot against the wall and yanks at one of those pipes until it comes away in his hand, turning to face the direction of the whispers.

or — more accurately, to face nami, who looks like fury incarnate.

he actually takes a step back from her, less out of fear and more because he's learned it's wiser to retreat from the possibility of a misunderstanding than to stand your ground. ）

It wasn't me.

（ it's not said defensively, just plainly as his fingers flex around the pipe. the words and whatever meaning they hold for her... it's cruel, isn't it? he studies her expression for a moment, and the furrow in his brow is something like sympathy. ）

Come on, go ahead of me. （ holds out the flashlight for her to take. ） Keep moving. If it's a ghost I'll deal with it, I'll catch up with you. Stay to the right.

[ The hardened look in her eyes dims slightly, replaced with confusion as she watches Ichigo wrench a pipe free, looking for all intents and purposes like he's posed to defend himself - though against what, she's not sure. It's a blessing in disguise that the situation's turned perplexing enough that she doesn't immediately rebuff him for denying that he's the offending whisperer but the anger on her face hasn't drained away either.

If it wasn't him, who else could it have been?

"You don't want to help her. All she does is take, and take. When there's nothing left, she'll leave you too." The voice is closer, and to Nami, it bears a striking similarity to the sound of her sister, Nojiko at her most spiteful (a thing Nami hoped to never have to hear again now that Coco Village was free, but alas).

Wincing, she backs up another step, her lips parting as though she intends to object to either the mention of ghosts in their midst or leaving him behind to settle it, but the feeling of being so thoroughly and unexpectedly exposed like this keeps her walking backward, putting more space between herself, him, and the smugly disembodied voice still whispering silkily from just a few paces behind them. ]

I– [ Wish you hadn't heard that. Was stupid for trying to make friends. Think you should leave. Murky marine colored eyes cloud with emotion, her open notebook hugged against her stomach as she hustles away, keeping to the right but not entirely paying attention to where she's going - a rare thing for someone like Nami, but she's not thinking straight, not with those whispered words ringing in her ears and bouncing around the confines of her brain. That's not who she is, that's not who she wants to be, and yet, even a world away in a basement with a stranger, it seems there's no reprieve from the past for her. ]

（ he can't see the ghost — a strange phenomenon he hasn't encountered before — but he does stay. can't perform konso without his sword, so as far as rituals go he's out of luck — he can't even use kidō like the others, so unless he wants to resort to using shiro and risking that loss of control (not a good idea, given the lividity of his suit brand) there isn't much he can do unless his quincy powers suddenly take a huge jump. he should have paid more attention to ishida, but that's a foregone conclusion now.

yet... it was as much an effort to give her space without abandoning her as it was to actually stay behind and deal with a problem. if the problem can't be dealt with, then the only other issue is her.

the whispering fades, whether she's taken it with her or not is hard to say. after a couple minutes, though:

«hey, i think it's gone.

that was pretty weird. what did it sound like to you?» ）

[ Her retreat was hasty, but Nami doesn't put that much distance between Ichigo and herself, despite ducking into the shadows as soon as she could.

Lingering far enough to not be seen while she collects herself, she keeps her arms crossed tightly over her front, staring fixedly at the ground while her mind races, working to piece together just what the hell she can even say after that ghost or whatever decided to shine its awful light on the things she's working on leaving behind her.

The dim light of her watch is enough to give her position just a few yards ahead of him away, something Nami either isn't conscious of or doesn't care about. Her face gets caught in the muted glow as she reads, her profile apparent - as is the frown weighing down the rest of her face. There's no point in responding by watch when he's close enough to hear her, but there's also no way of hiding how hesitant Nami sounds when she does. ]

My sister. [ Saying it like that is enough to make her stomach drop, leaving her cagey, like she's ended up under somebody's thumb without being aware of it, pinned down and exposed in all the ways she loathes. ] Some of it, anyway.

[ Righting herself from her leaned position against one of the locked doors marked Punishment Protocol, and gets closer to the flashlight's beam of light. ] We can just turn back now if you want. [ She's not going to take and take and leave him once there's nothing - they're essentially strangers, and Nami has no need to lean into that kind of life anymore, but, she also can't bring herself to explain, clarify, or even deny anything. Why wouldn't he want to go in the face of all that? ]

（ oh she didn't go all that far, apparently.

he follows the sound of her voice, the pipe hefted up over one shoulder like he's used to carrying something else entirely. ）

Oh yeah? （ lightly — ） I couldn't hear it very well. Sounded like a bunch of garbled junk to me.

（ he's never really learned his lesson about lying to protect other people's feelings. instead, he just gives her a wan smile. ）

You scared already? Come on, is that what pirates are really like?

[ That's.

Huh.

There's a tour of barely noticeable, barely repressed microexpressions that make their way across her face, her eyes creasing at the corners while she tries to decide why he's choosing to lie to her. If the smile didn't make her sure of it, the lightness in his voice as he waves the ghostly whispers off would.

Can't bullshit a bullshitter, after all. He doesn't know anything about her, and the rising sense of confusion masked as indignance wants to point that out. She didn't know what to make of him before, and now– ]

I told you. [ Nami answers quietly, exhaling a measured breath as she gets a grip on herself and starts to head further down the corridor. ]

Most pirates are assholes. [ Her tone is as flat as it ever was, but there's something to it, an underlying gentleness rooted more in a newfound appreciation for Ichigo and his decision to go the complete opposite route than she expected, rather than some latent affection for pirates. Most pirates can go fuck themselves, actually. ]

This happen the last time you were down here?

Well, not that.

（ hahaha, anyway... ）

I was in a place before. Uh... not like this one, but... you know, people from different worlds and times all that bullshit. It was supposed to be the afterlife, if you can believe it. Now I'm here, but there's one person I knew back in that other place that's here too, and they remember me... so I was pretty preoccupied last time I was here with just catching up with that person.

The afterlife? [ It's good to have a new topic to be slightly confused by. It distracts from all the other ones she doesn't want to think about. ]

So, you're dead? That's why you help other souls out?

[ He doesn't seem dead, but it's a sad thought. ]

Most of my crew ended up in this place. [ Curious as she is, she decides to push on, granting him the amnesty of yet another subject change, should he not want to answer her about being dead. There's a lot about her life Nami wouldn't talk about if it could be avoided, and while she isn't dead personally, it's not difficult to imagine wanting to leave that out of polite conversation if she was. He did her a favor, she'll do him one. ] A few people from back home actually. One's a pirate who's already made it to the Grand Line, where our ship was heading before this happened. [ Has this tipped into babbling? Probably so. ]

Edited 2024-01-14 21:34 (UTC)

Nah, I'm not dead.

（ it's one of the ones he doesn't really mind answering. it also sounds like certainty, not denial. he gestures to take the flashlight back from her, and transfers it to the hand that's holding the pipe up on one shoulder so he can keep his left free. this results in an awkward management of items one-handed, fingers crooked in a stubborn dual grip. ）

Shinigami are usually spirits who've passed on. I'm not. It's complicated. I'd know if I was, though.

（ and normal people wouldn't... be able to see him. even in stygia it had felt weird to consider, and he'd almost believed it there. but now...

well, he's never been one to give up that easily. death is waiting for him one day, at the end of a long road — but it won't take him without a fight, and yhwach wasn't it. ）

So you've got friends with you, I bet that's a double-edged sword. How are they coping with this place?

Good. [ Oh what the fuck? What kind of a thing is that to say? It is good, of course, but, who meets the news that somebody's not dead that casually? ]

Is that... Do you like that work?

[ Maybe he's been tethered to this calling somehow. He said it was complicated, didn't he?

The question about her crew makes her laugh quietly, giving a slight shake of her head in response. ] You've got somebody here too. You should know that it is. [ A beat, a shrug. ] They're coping, I think. Luffy, my captain, he's with the threes but already stealing food, Sanji's a six, right above me, and probably having the time of his life, and Zoro is a ten. [ Translation: two she doesn't have to worry about, one she does. ] What about your friend?

（ do you like that work? the question hits him harder than it should, if for no reason other than the fact that no one else has ever asked it of him before. physically, the only reaction is a slight start that could just as easily be explained away by the fact he just walked into a spiderweb that he bats aside, but mentally his mind is racing.

he is what he is. he wouldn't change that now. a melting pot of impossible things, quincy, hollow, shinigami, fullbring — he shouldn't exist, but does. he'd thought, after those long months in the dangai, after aizen, after having his powers ripped away that maybe he could just be normal. that he'd see rukia and renji and the others in the afterlife, and that would be enough for him.

but he remembers how fucking empty he felt, watching her fade. how awful those long months were, watching his friends come to school beaten and battle scarred in a war he could no longer participate in. he remembers training in his old dojo until his hands bled, until he'd fractured his knuckles so many times he barely felt the pain, how time blurred together. how the crumbs of hope meeting xcution had driven him to push himself harder and longer than anything he'd done before, a desperate bid to just be useful, be useful.

he needs to be what he is so he can protect his family. his friends. it goes beyond karakura now, beyond seireitei. hueco mundo is his place, too. the remaining arrancar his allies. the remaining quincy his family. it would be selfish, to just wish it all away, because someone else would step up. they'd have to, because he had to. and he can't put that on someone else. who'd do it? rukia? ishida? chad? karin, like him, sees ghosts. does that mean in another few years it's going to be her hand on a sword? he could never be that cowardly.

but does he like what he does?

no, he realizes.

he opens his mouth, closes it again. finally: ）

I like being strong.

（ it's a moment of breath-taking honesty, and he's too wearied by the sentiment to care what she takes away from what he says. what she says about her friends mostly just slips through his fingers, the sudden darkened miasma of his mind, but he pays it enough attention to answer that, too. ）

They're a two. And you should tell your captain not to steal — who knows what the consequences are if they get caught? I can get him whatever he wants.

（ presumptuous, given that the guy clearly has more friends in this place than ichigo does, but he can't not offer. ）

Edited (redundancy jail) 2024-01-14 22:48 (UTC)

[ There's a shift in the air between them, or something, for all intents and purposes he appears to be thinking but there's something about his expression that keeps Nami watching him out of the corner of her eye.

They both walk similarly evasive roads.

Before he finally comes out with his answer, Nami's already decided to leave it alone, seeing him open his mouth to speak, thinking the better of it, and trying again cements that decision. ]

Yeah. [ Doesn't everyone? Doesn't everyone have to be strong, regardless of the world they came from? Nami sighs, lips twitching, caught between a smirk and a scowl. ] That pipe didn't stand a chance.

[ Turning her attention back to the relative safety of her notebook, she scoffs under her breath, sticking an elbow out to nudge his arm, trying to get him to adjust how he's holding the flashlight. ]

I can't tell him to do anything, but if he knows he can get food off you, he won't ever leave you alone. [ Kind of like her, and her newfound penchant for enjoying the amenities of higher-ranking friends. ]

Are you always like this? Generous to strangers? [ Why did he lie like that? ]

Not always.

（ he says that almost contemplatively, as he adjusts the light according to her direction. ）

But there's enough cruelty in the world, I don't want to be the guy that adds to it. I'd rather be nice to a stranger that stabs me in the back than an asshole to someone who didn't deserve it.

[ His choice of words brings the fading echoes of the ghostly whispers back to the forefront of her mind, making her lips tighten into a firm lip as she stares determinedly down at her book, debating with herself. ]

Good that we met here. Somebody like you would have been a really easy mark for someone in my old line of work. [ She's teasing - sort of, doing what she's done so many times since this casino landed her in situations where it would be far too easy to let herself feel overwhelmed and in over her head. Improvising as she goes. ]

Next time I pick the floor.

（ he realizes the misstep the moment her expression flickers and changes, in the dim halo cast by the flashlight. he didn't mean to, even inadvertently, reference what he heard — and now he just feels like a jackass for it.

he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck with his free hand, and then: ）

We could always try having lunch like normal people. My treat.

What? [ She chuckles, ducking her head as she turns to look up at him, the weight hanging in the air between them lifting, at least on her end, momentarily. ] Hang out someplace well lit and not haunted? Sounds kinda boring.

[ Leafing to a clean sheet of paper, Nami retreats back to the safety of her notes. It doesn't sound boring. At all. Which isn't troubling, precisely, but if she thinks about it too long it might become as much. ] We can. Whenever.

I think we could all use a little more boring around here...

（ it's said with a sort of playful lilt, like maybe he has a sense of humour he's a bit rusty on using. ）

Just between you and me, anyway.

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