Destined for Flames (One Piece Fanfic)

A Little Break from the Action

Sabaody

Third Person's POV

I wonder if I made the right choice, letting her go so easily on such an ill-fated mission...

The girl sighs, unsatisfied with the guilt currently gnawing at her psyche. She had been in a position to keep Raya from rushing headlong into the fray of what could end up being a massacre. The Straw Hats are formidable, yes, but not invincible. And they're going up against the world itself, in a sense.

The girl hasn't even got her sword to rely on. And just what is a Swordsman who is deprived of her sword? Another sigh. So troublesome, these damning thoughts of hers.

She narrows her eyes against the glaring sun, flicking her gaze around the cheery square she'd seated herself in. People bustle around her, completely ignorant of her identity, as well as uncaring. The only ones who would care to look past the vibrancy of the shops, at the girl bathed in shadows both physical and of the heart, are the slave-traders and none have yet to enter the vicinity.

Katana had made sure of that using her Haki. She would never drop herself into such a dangerous situation without a plan, unlike a certain redhead she can't stop herself from worrying over.

"Raya," she murmurs, her tone betraying her immense frustration only slightly, "how do those bumbling crew mates of yours put up with you. Especially that Pirate Hunter..."

Sitting stiffly in her chair, she busies herself with finishing the tea she'd ordered what felt like only moments ago. It's chilled now. Katana isn't one to dawdle unnecessarily; if the order she'd received didn't require it, she would never have stopped at such a colorful cafe such as this one.

The people - the tourists - around her test ever-thinning patience with every nasally laugh, every poor joke, every passing comment that lacks any sort of intelligence. No, it's safe to say that Katana is not a people person, nor is she meant for civilian life, where these kinds of people are the norm. If she'd had her way, she may have even found some people for whom her time was worth, like Raya seemed to have.

Her father had thought otherwise, though, and ordered her to meet him at Saboady, one of the most atrocious and unreasonable places she has ever been. Never mind the beauty on the surface - and in the air; the bubbles are really quite charming. It's the underground network that show the island's true colors.

Katana wrinkles her nose in disgust. This place is proof of the Government's ineptitude, allowing such crude behavior to take place right under the Navy's nose.

"You're late," she says calmly, directing the words to the figure fast-approaching behind her.

"You're prompt," the velvet voice replies. Katana closes her eyes to avoid the urge to roll them. Her father wouldn't find that as charming as the scenery. Mihawk settles himself in the chair opposite his daughter, giving him a fortunate view of both his surroundings and the raven-haired girl.

Placing her teacup on the table, careful not to let it rattle, Katana folds her hands in her lap and catches her father's piercing gaze with her own. "For what purpose was I called here, Father?" she asks.

He doesn't reply for a moment, but takes the chance to brush some nonexistent dust from his jacket and lift his hat from his head; he leaves it beside Katana's black hat, placed reverently on the table between them. "Curiosity overcame me," he says at last. He lifts a hand and gestures vaguely at his daughter. "How do you define yourself?"

"I am a Swordsman, obviously," is her instantaneous response. The confidence in her voice is unmistakeable and a small, prideful smirk flits across Mihawk's face, before dissolving into a stern frown.