Warnings: This story is dark. It isn't a story for people to look for if they want real romance/fluff. There will be rape, and torture. There will be Yaoi, (Guy on Guy Sex) and there will be deep depression, and attempts of suicide. There will also be the use of drugs. There will also be a murder in the story (I haven't decided if it will be one of the main chars or not.) If you do not like heavy Drama, Angst, and Tragedy then I suggest not reading this fic. One miner thing some chars will be slightly OOC (for certain reasons.)

Authors Note: (1)(People when they are talking in native tongue. (2)People's thoughts. (3) Regular text. ~ I just wanted to make that clear in case anyone got confused.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or its charters.

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Pliable Metal (Is the strongest of all)

Prologue

(The molding)

Rain fell hard, and thunder roared through the sky as lighting flashed. The town seemed quiet that night: even the animals weren't making a sound. It was like time had stopped for everyone, but one boy.

An eleven year old boy ran through the streets as fast as he could, the rain splashing from under his feet with each step. Hot tears leaked from his eyes, and ran down his cheeks. He had to get away, he had to get as far away as he could and couldn't look back. In one single day his life had been turned upside down. He had lost everyone he loved and cared for in a blink of an eye. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't even be alive right now. His mother had saved his life and died, while telling him to run. To run as far as he could, and to get to America to look for a man called Smoker. Officer Smoker….

Detective Smoker threw two teenage boys into chairs, and pointed at them. "Call these two's parents and have them pick them up," he commanded. His voice was calm, but it was clear on his face he was angry, and not in the mood for arguments.

"Yes, sir," said one of the other officers, quickly doing as he was told.

Detective Smoker paid no more attention to the other officers in the room as he passed them, making his way down the hall and towards his office. He ignored the woman officer who was running after him, trying to get his attention.

The woman officer, known as Tashigi, had just started working as a police officer, and was assigned to be Detective Smoker's partner. The Detective, however, paid very little attention to her, and often had her do his paperwork. This time Tashigi wasn't going to let herself be ignored. There was something very important she needed to speak to her boss about, and she had to do it before Smoker went into his office.

"Detective Smoker, sir. Please listen to me, there is something very important I need to talk to you about. It's Chief Garp's orders, sir," she said, grabbing Smoker by the arm, and stopping him from opening his office door.

Smoker sighed in annoyance. He closed his eyes to try to calm himself before answering her. "Tashigi, what is it? Can't you see I am very busy? And if the Chef wants to talk to me, he can very well do it himself."

Tashigi continued to stay calm, knowing very well Detective Smoker was already working overtime on the Kuro case, but she couldn't help but feel this was more important. "It's about a boy, sir. He came into the police station from the airport a little over an hour ago. He wouldn't tell any of us his name, only asked for you, saying it was important. Chief Garp tried to talk to him, but didn't understand a word the young boy was saying."

Smoker rubbed at his temples with frustration. He continued to ask himself why and how, that old man became a police officer, and how he had lasted this long. Sighing heavily Smoker nodded. "Why couldn't Garp understand the boy?"

"Because he was speaking in Japanese, sir, we were only able to make out your name. Chief Garp said the boy was probably asking for you to have red tea with him," Tashigi explained, knowing this was going to upset her boss even more.

Smoker closed his eyes. He didn't know anyone who spoke Japanese. He wondered if this was some type of joke, and the boy was just trying to get out of trouble. The question was: why was he at the airport? "Where is the boy, and how do you know he came from the airport?"

"Because that's what the cab driver said. I had to pay the fee since the boy had no American money. He is sitting in your office right now, we told him to wait there," she said with a deep frown and a look of worry planted on her pretty face. Smoker could tell she was worried about the boy, but he could have cared less.

Smoker had thought it was strange for a boy to come from the airport and speak Japanese, but he could only assume that it was some teenager, asking for attention because he was in a lot of trouble. "All right, all right I'll go and talk to him. See what this little bastard is up to."

"All right, sir. I'll let the Chef know," Tashigi said and walked away, leaving Smoker to deal with the boy on his own.

Taking another deep breath Smoker tried to calm himself. He knew to try to stay, calm in case the boy was dangerous. After gathering his bearings, Smoker opened the door to his office and peaked inside.

As soon as he got a good glimpse of the boy inside he was surprised to say the least to see how young the boy looked. The boy couldn't be older than ten or eleven years old, sitting at his desk fast asleep. He frowned, and closed the door behind him, making his way over to his desk. He nudged the boy gently on the shoulder, prodding him awake. "Wake up. Hey, boy, wake up."

The boy jumped when he felt the touch on his shoulder, and quickly looked around. When he noticed Smoker, standing next to him he quickly stood up. "Sm-Smoker-san?" he asked in a soft, tired voice.

Smoker nodded. "Yes, I am Detective Smoker. Can you speak any English?"

The boy nodded. "A little, mother started to teach me."

Smoker frowned, and knew it wouldn't be any help if the boy couldn't understand all of his questions. "Well, if it helps, I can speak Japanese."

The boy nodded. "Okay."

"All right, can you tell me your name?" Smoker asked in a soft voice, as he spoke to the boy in his native tongue he had thought he forgotten.

"Roronoa Zoro," Zoro said, staring at his hands as he spoke; the boy was still very scared and looked very tired and worn out.

"All right, Zoro, can you tell me what happened, and who sent you here?"

Zoro nodded and stared up at Smoker, tears threatening to escape his eyes. "My mother… my mother told me to look for you before she…" Zoro shook his head; he didn't want to think about the things that happened in Japan. He didn't want to talk about it. He knew he had to, but it hurt, and he couldn't help the tears that leaked down his cheeks.

Smoker slapped his forehead and sighed heavily. Whatever had happened to the boy must have really been bad. Getting information out of him was going to be harder than he thought. "Boy, sit down and man up. Tell me word from word what happened. Take it slow if you have to."

Zoro glanced up at the officer and nodded. He sat back down and took in a deep breath. Then, as if he was on auto pilot, he told Smoker everything that had happened only a day before in Japan.

Smoker sat back in his chair half shocked at what the boy was telling him. He knew it was the truth just by the look in the young boy's eyes. He sighed, and leaned forward in his chair, handing the child a tissue. "What was your mother's name?"

"Smoker Kishiko," he said, large, bright, green eyes looking right up at him, pleading for help.

Smoker sighed hearing the name. He knew the name well and now understood why the boy was sent to look for him. "She was my sister," he said, sitting back into his chair staring at the ceiling as if he was thinking of something. "Tell you what, because you are my sister's child, you will come and stay with me."

The boy's eyes widened and tears started to leak from them once again. He leaped up, and out of his chair, hugging Smoker. "Thank you so much! Thank you!"

Detective Smoker sighed, shaking his head, and patted the boy's back. He let the young boy have his small moment then carefully pushed him away. "All right, all right, enough. Let's get out of this dump and get you home. Tomorrow we will work everything out."

Zoro nodded and moved away from Smoker, rubbing at his eyes and smiled up at the larger man. He hoped that this man would help him to understand what had happened in Japan, and why it did. And for some reason he knew that Smoker would.

-.-.-.-.-

Further away, across town, another small boy was having his own problems; though his problems were just beginning. He had just gotten home from visiting his friend, chef Zeff. The boy had grown to like the older man after he found out he was a cook. Always wanting to be a cook himself, Sanji had asked if he could help out after school, to try and learn how to cook himself. Zeff had agreed, needing a dish washer.

The boy's father, however, disliked Zeff, and had forbidden him to even see the cook. Saying he was crazy, and eleven year old boys shouldn't hang out with crazy men. Sanji, however, did not listen and his father had found out. So that night when Sanji came home, he came home to his mother, bleeding from the head and crying.

"Mom, what is the matter?" the small boy asked, dropping his book bag by the door, and walking over to his weeping mother.

"S-Sanji, go, get out of here, you should not be here, he-"

"SANJI!" Sanji's father called out from the main bedroom.

Sanji jumped, hearing his dad yell, and slowly turned to see his father standing in the doorway, no shirt on and belt in hand. He gulped. "Y-yes, father?"

The tall man grinned and motioned towards the bedroom behind him. "Get in there."

"No, no, Frank, don't-!" Sanji's mother begged, slowly getting to her feet.

"You shut up! Stay out of this," he said and pointed to the room. "Now, boy, get in there."

Sanji, shaking with fear, nodded; slowly making his way into his parent's bedroom. He wasn't sure what was going to happen. For the longest time his mother had been able to stop his father from beating him, but now he was not so sure. He turned slowly when he heard the door close, then lock. "Y-yes, father?"

Frank turned, and stared at his son, staring at him with a large, evil grin. "I heard you were at Zeff's again today."

Sanji shook his head, but he shouldn't have done that because his father had whipped him across the face with his belt.

"Don't lie to me! Now you are in even more trouble for lying to me!" he shouted and pointed to the bed. "Drop your damn pants and get on the bed," he said, watching as Sanji did as he was told, and nodded in approval. "Good, get on your knees and bend over."

Once again, Sanji did as he was told, getting onto his knees and bent over. He could feel the beginning of hot tears leak from his eyes, and his body was shaking from fear. What was his father going to do to him?

Then it happened. Sanji screamed in pain as the belt smacked his butt hard. He screamed again and again; until it stopped. He took out a deep breath, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He turned his head slightly to look at his father, watching as the older man took out a pair of scissors; his eyes widened in horror.

He calmed a bit when only his shirt was cut off from his back, but stiffened when he noticed his father step back again. He held his breath and more smacks can be heard this time on his back. Once again Sanji was screaming in pain.

"No! Please stop! Father, please stop!" he begged, shivering from pain. He could feel his blood dripping down his spine and over his bare bottom. It scared him. Why was his father doing this?

"Stop? I don't think so. I am not even done yet. You got a lot more to come. I am sick of your lies, and doing things behind my back, Sanji. Your mother can't save you anymore. Now shut up and take what's next like a man," he said, laughing and unzipping his jeans.

Sanji stared in horror when he realized what his father was about to do. It happened fast and Sanji let out a piercing scream. "NO!" he cried out, and knew that after this his life would never be the same, and the pain only just begun.

-.-.-.-

Smoker sighed as he watched the small boy sleep in the spare bedroom. He had no idea how to raise a kid, and never thought he would at the age of 27. Shaking his head he shut off the light and walked out. There was so much to be done tomorrow, and so much stuff to look into. If anything he knew he was going to need help.

And lots of it….

TBC.