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Whether this was a joke, bad luck, or just the entire universe conspiring to laugh at him, Helmeppo wouldn't play.
Nah. He wasn't nervous at all. Whoever was trying to pry a reaction out of him, well…, tonight, they'd have to sulk it up.
After this thought, taking a deep breath, he stepped on the worn wood of the Shells Town dock for the first time in— a year? Had it really been just a year? The new things he had learned, experienced, and done stretched the time behind him into forever.
The chatter from the other officers disembarking around him fell into the background like a curtain of rain. His hands spidered all around, unsure of where to settle: black gloves squeezed the forearms of his grey winter coat, then folded into each other, then sunk into his pockets. And there, there it was. Between his fingers, the envelope rustled. He didn’t need to re-read the invitation; he’d already memorized the text in blue, cursive calligraphy.
"To Lieutenant Commander Helmeppo. You Are Cordially Invited to the New Year’s Gathering…"
He clicked his tongue. In Shells Town! What a brilliant idea.
The night was full of shapes he knew, or at least had once known: the narrow streets and humble houses, all of them unchanged except for the decoration that speckled some colour into them. Hanging lamps, paper garlands, a multitude of lights in the indigo evening. And the air was thick with expectation, the ports more packed with vessels than they'd probably ever been.
It was good for a small Marine base to host this kind of event: it was not the Navy's official, massive, and bureaucratic party at Headquarters— they didn't want the humble Shells Town collapsing under the weight of the entire Navy, after all— but something more familial. It had started as little more than a personal tradition, or so Tashigi had said: there was no way that her, Smoker’s, and Hina’s schedules would line up all at once for the end-of-year festivities, and the possibility of shore leave was limited. So they’d had to create the possibility a couple of weeks before the actual holiday. It had stuck, become something their circle of acquaintances participated in and looked forward to.
Well well…, he thought dryly to himself, I wonder who I owe the pleasure of coming back here.
He could practically hear Coby's train of thought in the timid cadence of his voice. Well-meaning, if a little tone-deaf. It's… it's where it all started for us, right?
Maybe. Maybe he was right.
At least, Helmeppo hoped that had been the idea.
The two massive granite towers that shaped Shells Town became smaller and smaller in the distance behind the sky-high masts of Vice-Admiral Garp’s battleship. It looked no bigger than a toy city in the middle of that vast ocean. The sight was humbling, if not downright alarming.
And Coby? He didn’t seem to care! He gloeed, eyes set on the future, on the ‘Justice’ written at the back of this eccentrical Vice Admiral man’s coat. But Helmeppo had not quite left the town behind yet, nor had he shaken off the weakness that threatened to crumble him from inside every time he thought about his confrontation with Morgan. About the crushing weight of his boot on Helmeppo's face, ripping away the last on the last strings of affection that united them— the last roots.
Maybe, for that very reason, he peeled his glare off the island and crossed his arms. He wouldn't give into the wish to look back again. Instead, he sneaked behind Coby and whispered urgently.
"Hey, isn't this weird, Coby? Do we really… get snatched away to Headquarters like this, out of the goodness of his heart?"
Coby looked back at him, tiny arms outstretched in the air. The sheer hope in this dumb, insane guy was almost too big for him.
"Yeah, I think so!" he said, and then with a shrug and a headscratch that was almost an apology, "Yeah - I don't really think he's normal, but… it's our job to prove he made the right decision."
As if prompted, a pair of eyes flared at them from under the dog mask.
"I'm listening, you couple of bums!" and at the laughter erupting from his chest, both of them jumped in unison, "Come on! What are you waiting for?! Get to work!"
"Yes- Yes, Sir!"
It was a pain. Helmeppo felt like this was a few sizes too big for the both of them, already. But at once, when alone, he was surprised as his own relief that Garp had interrupted them.
Seeing Coby talk like that almost made him look a bit longer… just like a few days ago, at the rooftop…
He shook his head no, swatted the idea away.
No, he told himself. For sure the brain thoight weird things when it got shaken and thrown around like that .
Helmeppo followed the steep trail, or maybe only the smell of food, toward the nearby square. Groups of townspeople had gathered there, outside the gates of the Marine station, now open and riddled with lights. Charms and flower arrangements cleansed the negatives from the year past, at least in theory.
When he caught one of the glances his way… he frowned, and stood firm. From the way some of the townsfolk tapped their lips, leant into their hands to whisper, it seemed that he was far from the only one for whom the past wasnot forgotten.
Oh… look who's back.
Poor Coby… do you think he believes in Helmeppo, or is he just too nice to tell him off.
Everyone knows the apple doesn't fall away from the tree.
He didn't hear their voices— of course, his haki was not active like some others’— but he'd expected them. He shook them away like a horse shakes off mayflies, and twice as dignified, threw his hair over his shoulders and stomped off toward the main gates.
He was no hero, for sure. He had certainly not been dubbed one by the papers after spending an inordinate amount of time on some secret training. But he was not a villain, either, not the tyrant that Morgan's contradictory discipline had bred.
Garp had said it himself, everybody had their own pace, their role. And if there was something that this town had left in him, a part of Morgan in him that was too stuck, too deeply ingrained to forgive, that would follow him like his shadow… there was an use to it, too.
His mixed feelings were a void deep in his stomach, one that blocked any appetite the wonderful smell of boiled rice and spices could give.
Rice and spices… he paused on his tracks. That smell was just the same as…
He flinched at the unexpected attack, like a ball thrown against him!
What, it can't be! Are they seriously going to make it physical?!, he thought. But, before his instinct to pivot and elbow the attacker kicked in, he'd already realised that they… were tiny. Too tiny for the job.
And clinging to his arm with full force.
"Ri… Rika!"
"Helmeppo, is that you?!" turning around, he shook his arm. Seeing the attacker cling to him made his annoyance flip into a warm, deep ache in his throat, "You idiot! Why didn't you say goodbye?! I had to wait so long just reading about you two on the papers…"
"W-what?!" he said, the pleased surprise apparent in his voice. Ririka stepped up from behind her, dark eyes smiling. Each small punch was like hail plunging down on him. "We- well, how are you?"
“You’re so grown,” Ririka ignored his question as if it were insubstantial in comparison to what she was seeing in him. The way only mothers see. Her eyes narrowed fondly, and Helmeppo gulped and darted his own around. Their stand sat in the middle of the square. Framing their small, steaming kitchen, two columns of mochi interchanged with tangerines served as decoration.
"Ah! I almost forgot," Rika beamed up, her grievance forgotten, "There's a lady there, waiting for you!"
He scanned the surroundings, settled his eyes on the tall, thin girl with the pink coat, red rimmed glasses unmistakable at her forehead. She looked so different with a dress on - when one knew, the scars and the rigid way she walked were unmistakably a soldier's, the dress and high heels the disguise.
"Tashigi," he called, and his smile picked up.
"Hello, Meppo-san!" she smiled.
"Is she your girlfriend…?" Rika asked under her breath, her cadence laughing.
Helmeppo clicked his tongue and shooed her away. Tashigi hadn't heard the exchange; she patted the little girl's head patiently.
"You're a good girl! You've helped me a lot," she said, "Thanks for getting him!"
"Did the rice taste good? You've still got some here," Helmeppo said, pointing to the corner of his lips, and watched Tashigi turn a bright shade of red.
She swatted at his shoulder, only half joking. "You!! Well you wanted me to wait for you didn't you?!" she shouted, and the friendly linking of their arms became dragging, "Come on let's go in!"
"Ow...fine…"
At least, Tashigi's presence was a distraction; grounding, like a warm cup of tea in the cold. They'd met at New Marineford before her transfer; in that headquarters building that still smelled of paint and didn't feel quite permanent, like new places often do, they'd started talking almost every day in absence of Coby and Smoker.
"Have you seen Coby yet?" she asked, distracting him from the tall station's gates, now kindled with strings of red paper lamps. Flower arrangements and patterned garlands popped on the granite, fading the militaristic, grey shapes to the background.
“No, he came directly here from that new additional training thing he’s doing,” Helmeppo said. Something in his tone must’ve been obvious, disheartened, because she furrowed her brow at him, “Yeah, he - even when he writes, he doesn't… really… talk a lot about what he does.”
Behind her red-rimmed glasses, her eyes were round, attentive. She was one of the people that could imagine there was more to the story.
Everybody knew Coby and Helmeppo as a pair— a pair of colleagues, of freaks— they had come to HQ together, and ever since they’d joined, they didn’t often spend time away from each other.
But not everybody knew about the— well. The other things.
“Is it… fine between you?,” Tashigi asked, then hesitated, “Did you argue?”
"No," he replied, too fast for the whole truth.
Almost continued the thought with: I may have said something…
But instead, he opened a palm toward the yard, diverting Tashigi's attention.
"Oh, look, this is the place where I tried to kill Roronoa Zoro," he explained, and she let out a discreet oh — to hide her approval, for sure, she had no love lost for the swordsman. Soon, he was taking in all at once what his higher-ranked colleagues and the men of Shells Town Navy had done to change the place.
There was music inside, and they both stepped into the much-welcomed warmth.
"Hey you! Yes, you, kid! Bwa ha ha ha!”
The unmistakable voice struck him like thunder. Former Vice Admiral Garp, his grin bracketed by deep lines, was surrounded by the comparatively tiny officers of Shells Town; Helmeppo grimaced and waved toward them, approached not without leaving his coat and picking up a glass of sparkling wine.
At a first glance, he did a double-take: was that… Captain Ripper? In a suit? From his bewildered look he must’ve had a similar thought, looking back at Helmeppo and saluting with an awkward kind of firmness.
“Hello, Lieutenant Commander,” he smiled under his beard, and saluted, “...the chore boys have come a long way. I almost didn’t believe it.”
“I can imagine,” Helmeppo said.
“Hah! They’re the same boys you handed over, folks," Garp cackled, "and I’ll tell you what I believe - I believe every word you've told me about the way they were!”
The ensuing roar of laughter had heat rushing to Helmeppo's face. He wanted to quip something back, but his pre-packaged sarcastic line slipped away when he saw who was approaching behind Garp.
Coby.
Seeing him there, the changes he'd gone through were bigger than ever. His shoulders were held up high, his smile unchanged…, but almost too tall for his name. 'Coby' was boyish in a way that didn't quite match that titan anymore. The sight of him froze Helmeppo in his tracks.
"He- Helmeppo!" Coby strode toward him in big steps, and before he knew it, he was close enough for a hug. "That's- it's been a long time, now!"
The contact was wooden— or perhaps he was, arms straight against his own body like planks as Coby's wrapped around him.
"At least you still recognised me," Helmeppo said, short of breath.
Tashigi was up next. She, too, threw her arms around Coby. An illogical envy shivered across Helmeppo's gut, but he blinked it away, frowned at himself.
"Where have you been hiding?," she asked amicably, half-muffled by Coby's shoulder, and Helmeppo's smile felt tight at the corners when they separated again. Coby laughed the way he always did, all the way to his kind blue eyes.
"But… wow, Helmeppo, you're looking…!"
Helmeppo looked down at his grey suit jacket and open shirt. Coby didn't end the sentence, he didn't need to; the tone was familiar to him. It bore the bashfulness of the first times they'd held hands, or caressed each other on a tangle of sheets under the pale moonlight. That thought, too, seemed like it didn't quite belong back here in Shells Town.
Helmeppo chuckled, absurdly realising that just so happened to be the last place he'd worn a suit.
"Huh… back to the roots, I guess," he said, "I guess that was the idea?"
Tashigi nudged at Coby. It was a confirmation that there was a meaning, a question, behind Helmeppo's words.
“Bwah hah hah hah! And what an idea it was!” Garp, crossing his arms, flashed a generous grin toward that room full of his ducklings and spoke for everybody and nobody in particular, the way he always did, “In times like these, it’s never bad to remember where we come from, what we stand for!”
A mumble of agreement, with some cheering, waved through the crowd before the groups of people dissolved into their chatter again. Helmeppo sighed, nodded to himself. It was something Garp said often.
Never bad to remember where we come from, and family! Family is everything.
Though that last bit, he’d left out this time. It didn’t need to be spoken, or maybe Garp didn't want to dab too close to his own wounds. What had happened at Marineford, well. It had changed him, as well as all of them.
Looking around, away from an outside of shadow spiels and gossip, the Marines around him were akin to family. Smoker, though Helmeppo hardly remembered the alleged babysitting anymore; Garp, and Coby, and Tashigi, all of them always present…
The latter two were chatting now. Coby kept nodding bashfully in the way he always did when he wanted to deflect attention from himself.
“Y-yeah, the additional training I have been doing for the promotion… it's a good change of air, but also hard work," he said. Trailed off then, as he waved over at Ripper, and at all the other officers who still hadn't gotten to their turn in the long line of people who wanted to catch up with Coby, "I thought, well, one quick look back couldn't hurt, either. Uh- Oh, Captain Ripper!"
“Well… I guess we can talk about it later,” Helmeppo said, just the slightest bit more relieved now they’d seen each other and the world hadn't imploded.
Over his drink, Coby caught Helmeppo’s eye.
"There's something else," he said, a shadow flickering over his dark blue eyes, "But let's meet afterward. I want to see you somewhere else."
Coby raised a finger, pointed it upward.
When the news of Admiral Akainu’s victory at Punk Hazard came, Coby and Helmeppo had been sitting in a common room at Marineford, at the squalid skeleton that was left of it.
It had been a bright day, the kind you'd say was full of hope. But as soon as the news broke, the damned iridision of the sun became glaring, abusive, the sounds of work around them too overbearing for a conversation.
And Coby… Helmeppo had never seen him so silent, so serious. Anybody who knew Coby saw that he put on that uniform like he put on an extra layer of skin: making him thicker, seem impenetrable. He smiled in the face of adversity and everyone believed him when he said he was fine.
But what had happened at Marineford was not gone… hell, it still came to Helmeppo in waves: the instinct that a threat was around the corner, pulse pitching in defense, breath seized inside him even though nothing was wrong. A sudden lump of fear caught between his throat and lungs at the the smell of gunpowder on sea. The doubt coming back from their escape, in the back of his mind— were his colleagues the real foes in disguise?
Helmeppo's lips had been dry when he spoke. The idea had been clawing at him from inside for long. But once, this once, it surfaced.
“Coby,” he had muttered, his lips dry, “Can we even… stay here anymore?”
He had shaken his head and continued, “The Fleet Admiral… that's, well, I don't have to remind you. Maybe it's the time to try…" but the feeble words died in his throat.
The difficult part had been that Coby did not immediately reject the idea. Helmeppo’s suggestion didn’t come back at him like a ball thrown against the rigid shell of Coby’s optimism.
No, there was something different in him. Something changed, or— for a moment, he was afraid— gone.
But finally, Coby had spoken up.
“No… don’t say that.”
That had been it, hadn’t it? What had sent Helmeppo’s alarm bells ringing.
Because the thing that defined Coby was not his will to be a Navy officer. That was only one of the things. But what really made him Coby was his unrelenting, unyielding, goodness. You couldn’t pit the two things against each other. It was not fair.
“But Coby, after all that happened,” he gulped, “Is it because of Garp that you want to stay? So that he doesn’t have to think he…” it was difficult to even think about it. So Garp didn’t have to think he’d failed, once and once more, that he’d only been capable of raising pirates and extremists. So that he didn’t lose another grandson, on top of it all. “It’s our lives. We gotta think of ourselves, too. This has always… been more your Navy than mine. But is it anymore?”
Coby had looked through him. Helmeppo's hand had ached to grab his, but he
None of his usual thinking aloud, no long explanations and debates with himself.
He said simply, “It is.”
There was no snow, but the night temperature was low enough for the wooden timbers of the rooftop to be covered in frost.
Helmeppo scratched some of it off with the kukri before setting his foot, heel-first, onto the railing. He put a boot on the nearest chip of the wall, his ridged sole gripping it, and waited for his weight to collect on it before shifting his balance. Two quick movements and he was pushing himself toward the rooftop.
He turned around and stretched a hand out to Coby.
After pulling him back with fuill force, they tumbled together for a second before gathering themselves and sitting. Hugging their knees, like they used to do. Helmeppo’s legs were chilling, his lungs already filled with the dry cold. He huddled into himself, opened and closed the gloves. Then… they huddled a bit closer. Coby's forearm against his, the light from beneath casting a soft glow on his side.
“Won’t they miss-” Helmeppo started, but the first firework thundered over his words. Coby watched the sparks rise and vanish, casting a green glow on his face. On his big, genuine grin. Helmeppo watched him, more than the lights.
A deja-vu washed over him, of another day long ago; everything had looked bigger then, and the determined way that Coby had punched the air and spoken about his dream had kindled the spark of something better in Helmeppo. Something he’d wanted to fight, at first. Because fighting it was the easiest option.
“Back here again,” he said, every exhalation a little cloud of steam.
“Yup,” Coby poked the side of his head against Helmeppo's shoulder. The sky sparkled pink, then red. “I thought about what you said back at…” Coby gulped, “... Marineford. After, you know.”
Helmeppo raised an eyebrow, his lips pressed.
“Is this where you plan to give me a lecture?”
“What?” Coby laughed, pulling back and scratching the back of his head, “No, I was just… I wanted to be here, again. With you,” adding the last part even though it was obvious. A bit of the cold thawed.
“I'm…" Helmeppo looked away, at the fireworks bringing that same smell of burning, his nostrils flaring, "I miss poke. I wouldn’t have-”
“I’ve been really pushing myself, you know," Coby cut in, "so that I can play a part on making this… all of this… better. I know it’s hard,” he gulped, “The distance did me good, too. And I, thought about it."
"About…?"
“... About many things, really. Including what you said. But if we’re going to fix this mess, it’s going to have to be us. And I mean us."
Down at the yard, people were gathering to see the show. Colours exploded over them all.
"We need, you know. Tashigi’s determination, and Smoker's seriousness, and Garp’s… well. I guess Garp is out," Coby continued. "We need people like me, but we need people like you, too. Like Bogart used to be Garp’s man in the shadows. I need you.” He gestured toward the town, toward the newly built building they’d accidentally blown up together, “Baggage and all.”
Helmeppo felt something thaw in his chest, a warm buzz creeping up his face.
“Guess I needed some time to think about it all. And to not… blow it.”
The next fireworks erupted, two sets of sparkles red and green. Their colours meshed in the great sky.
Coby’s gloved hand lay on Helmeppo’s knee now, and he lay back… although they moved slow, the world around him blurred a bit.
“Okay,” came Helmeppo’s dumb reply. His bottom lip quivered, cold…until it wasn't cold anymore.
The kiss was short, soft, their lips pressed against each other's. Coby smelled of the same body wash he’d been using for years, a known scent, of home.
When seconds went by and none of the two pulled away, he stopped thinking about past and future.
He let Coby’s soft gestures wrap him, hold him close. Coby’s warmth grounded him, guided him in the dark.