Gavin caught the sharpness in Crocus’s expression, but he didn’t spell anything out.
He had no intention of openly admitting that Rouge and her unborn child existed here — there was no way he could explain how he, of all people, knew that kind of intel from an entire sea away.
“Come on, we’re here already, so let’s head into town and ask around first.
Maybe the place we’re after isn’t far from here.” Buggy yawned and set off ahead, swaggering along with his feet splayed out.
“Relax, relax.
Wherever we go is wherever we go.
You lot ought to be thanking the great Buggy — if it weren’t for me, how’d you ever have reached the South Blue’s first island this fast?
For all you know, the person we’re looking for is right here on this very island!” Hearing Buggy toss that out without a second thought, Gavin’s expression turned strange.
In his past life he’d only ever heard that Buggy’s Conqueror-tier luck was frightening — but he’d never imagined it ran this deep.
‘Is this guy the red-nosed oracle of the pirate world or something???’ Gavin quietly drifted closer to Buggy, meaning to soak up a little of that lucky aura — insurance that his next Zanpakutō draw would come up as lucky as ever.
This kind of mystical mumbo-jumbo was beyond him.
Forget him — not even the gods could explain the why of it.
…
After wandering the streets for a while and picking up supplies for the voyage, Gavin casually began fishing for any strange local legends about the island.
“Strange happenings?
Well, I did hear there’s a woman living all alone up on the southern cliffs — apparently there’s a field of hibiscus up there too, the island’s pride and joy.” Buggy sat on a stool at a cold-drinks stall, relaying what he’d managed to dig up.
Beside him, Shanks fiddled with a Den Den Mushi, unbothered.
“What’s strange about that?
Plenty of people live alone, don’t they?” Gavin said nothing.
His gaze had suddenly locked onto a woman across the street — one with long, pale-pink hair.
She was doing her utmost to hold her belly in, a bundle of vegetables clutched to her chest as cover, but the swell of it was unmistakable all the same.
As if sensing the stare, the woman turned toward the drink stall — and in doing so revealed the hibiscus flower tucked behind her ear on the other side.
The moment she caught sight of a cluster of unfamiliar faces, her expression stiffened; she dropped her head and hurried off.
‘Portgas D.
Rouge.
She really is here,’ Gavin thought.
Crocus’s face had grown complicated.
Roger had once mentioned things to him about a future place of refuge — and among the islands he’d named was this very one.
What was more, Crocus could feel it: the woman was pregnant, yet her life force flickered like a candle flame in the wind.
Combined with how desperately she’d tried to hide her shape, an absurd guess surfaced in his mind.
“Shanks, Buggy — head back to the ship on your own in a bit.
I want to buy a few more traveling supplies.” “Gavin, come with me.
I don’t have any Berries on me, so I’ll leave the paying to you.” Catching the look in Crocus’s eyes, Gavin cottoned on fast and nodded.
“Understood.
Shanks, Mister Crocus and I are going to make a stop.” Shanks blinked, but didn’t suspect a thing.
“Got it.
You two watch yourselves.” The pair didn’t chase after the direction the woman had gone.
Instead they doubled back along the town’s side streets, and only once they’d shaken off everyone’s line of sight did they change course and head for the southern cliffs.
“You felt it too, didn’t you, Gavin?” Gavin answered under his breath.
“That woman — she’s pregnant, right?
And you’re guessing…?” Crocus gave a small nod, his voice dropping just as low.
“It’s only a guess.
That Buggy brat is different from Shanks — his luck’s been strange since he was a kid.
Apart from that last voyage where it turned sour, it’s always been ridiculously good.
Every time the Roger Pirates got into a scrap with another crew, Buggy came out either without a scratch or barely grazed.
Roger brought him up to me once — said the boy’s real oddity was probably that freakish luck of his.” They quickened their climb.
“Whether or not that woman’s the one we’re looking for, remember to play along with me in a bit.
Her life force is wrong.
If she really is that Roger bastard’s wife, then no matter what happens, we’re taking her with us today.
Going by the date Roger was executed, if she truly is pregnant, she’s long past her due date — unless…” At that, Crocus seemed to grasp something, and his face turned exceedingly grim.
“Let’s hope it’s not what I’m thinking.” …
The southern cliff.
At the far end of the hibiscus field stood a house, a few coconut palms, two benches, and an old wooden table.
The furnishings were plain and worn, but their owner had kept them in fine condition — especially that wooden table, on which sat a clear glass vase holding a single, dewy hibiscus in tender bloom.
It was dusk now, and perhaps because the owner was cooking, the aroma of seasonings coming alive in hot oil drifted out of a small window on one side.
Knock, knock— The knocking rang out.
Inside, the faint sound of stir-frying stopped at once.
It was a good while before slow footsteps approached the door.
“Who is it, please?” “Sorry to trouble you.
Are you Portgas D.
Rouge, by any chance?
I learned your name from the villagers.” The woman’s voice grew markedly more guarded.
“That’s right, it’s me.
Who are you looking for?” “Gol D.
Roger.
Do you know that man?” Behind the door, Portgas D.
Rouge went pale, a flash of sorrow crossing her eyes, the knuckles of the hand gripping her pistol whitening.
Roger, I’m sorry…
“…No.
I don’t know that pirate.” Pirate?
Crocus and Gavin exchanged a glance, more certain than ever that this woman was the one they’d come for.
“Haah…” Crocus sighed.
“Open the door, sister.
It’s Crocus — that Roger bastard’s ship doctor, a comrade who once sailed the same ship as him.” No answer came from the other side.
“Your condition’s not right.
That baby of yours should be past its due date by now.
Open up, sister — we’re not bad people.” The more he heard, the worse it sounded to Gavin, who hastily stepped in to cut Crocus off.
What was with these heavy shakedown-villain vibes?
He was half afraid the next thing out of Crocus’s mouth would be something like— ‘You wouldn’t want anything to happen to the baby in there now, would you, sister?’ —a line along those lines.
“Hold on a second.
Coaxing her like that won’t do the slightest bit of good.” Gavin pushed Crocus aside and rapped twice on the door himself.
“Miss Portgas, you must realize — if we were World Government agents or Marines, this wooden door wouldn’t stop us for a moment.
I don’t know whether Roger ever mentioned Shanks and Buggy to you, but they came too.
They just held back, afraid of intruding on you, which is why they didn’t come along.” Creeeak~~ The door opened a crack.
Gavin didn’t rush to enter.
Instead he pulled Crocus back a few steps and raised the Zanpakutō in his hand.
“See?
I’m armed — but I’ve no intention of using force.
Shanks and the others made this trip all the way from the East Blue for your sake, and for the sake of the child in your belly.
You can’t escape CP’s investigation or the Marines’ dragnet, and we took a huge risk just to come here.
If you truly can’t bring yourself to trust us…
then for the child’s sake, at least let us come inside and talk.” “…I’ve heard the names Buggy and Shanks.
From Roger’s mouth.” The door swung open, revealing the complicated, freckled face of Portgas D.
Rouge.
“Come in, then.
I was just making dinner.” Crocus shot Gavin a thumbs-up and stepped inside first.