Mass x Acceleration

By Dixxy Mouri

Chapter Thirty-Two: Shattered Dreams

It was clear that Ria had been stunned into silence for so long it felt like years had passed.

". . . shit. She told you her name!? And you told her YOURS!?" Ria finally asked with wide eyes. She was on her feet, wildly gesturing as she tried to comprehend what Braeburn had just told the group. Nami and Sanji were in the middle of a silent "conversation" as they exchanged a few shocked expressions, but the seamstress took it . . . differently.

"Ria. . ." Braeburn said, looking exasperated.

"I mean . . . SHIT." She looked at Sanji and Nami in disbelief. "I don't know if you guys know this but sharing personal information like your name with someone was like one of the BIGGEST 'no-no's' in the entire organization. As much as she was second from the top I'm pretty sure if Mr. 0 found out about the name thing – never mind that they were doing the four legged frolic on a regular basis – he wouldn't have hesitated to have them both fired so fast all that would be left . . . I mean . . . shit."

". . . I take it Braeburn never shared this with you before," said Nami.

Braeburn's face was in his hands. He mumbled something that sounded like "I hate my life."

Sanji gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back.

Ria crossed her arms and sighed, seeming to calm down a little. "Well, I think a bunch of us suspected something was up with how often Miss All Sunday was hanging around and how often Braeburn was going on 'business trips.' And yeah once we got fired he told me what was what with him and our lady boss. But him telling her his name and the other way around, though? That's news to me, too. Because, you know, secrets, Baroque Works, it's kind of their thing," said Ria. "I mean, hell, how did you know it wasn't a fake name she gave you to bait you into it, like, testing you or something?"

The blacksmith crossed his arms and sighed. "Because we were already having an affair – if I was going to get busted for something, she would have gotten me for trying to sleep with her in the first place – which, by the way, she initiated the affair, not me. She wouldn't let it carry on for what ended up being an entire year if she was just testing me," said Braeburn.

"A year?" said Nami, her eyes wide. This affair with Robin was more serious than she thought. Late night discussions about personal things weren't unusual for the two female Straw Hats and sometimes those conversations got intimate (though never as close the ones she had with Sanji during That Time). The older woman confessed that, by and large, she used her body as a bargaining tool – sometimes a bounty hunter could be persuaded to leave her alone in exchange for a night in bed, or it kept a particularly unruly boss happy.

"Even Crocodile?"

"When you complain about sand in your swimsuit, I promise you it's not as bad as sand in-"

"-if you promise to never, ever finished that sentence I will do your laundry for a month."

But when Robin spoke about her affair with Mr. 6, she seemed happy about the experience and reflected on it fondly. But then she'd get quiet and sad, and Nami realized things didn't have a happy ending – they couldn't, not with who Robin was, and knowing that he wasn't in the picture anymore . . . she knew this man hadn't befallen a good fate. They would stop talking about it, and then it might come up again sometime later and they would go through the same motions as before. Nami hadn't given the story much thought in a long time, but now that she was face to face with Robin's lover and apparently had been for several months now, it was all coming back.

And Braeburn looked just as sad and upset as Robin did.

Oh, guys, why did you do this to yourselves?

"That was . . ." Braeburn paused a moment to do some quick mental math, "six months before we had to leave the company. Sometime after that, maybe about two, possibly three months later, we got assigned to the East Blue recruitment mission that, um, I'm assuming you guys know all about."

"Yeah, Zoro is the twins' father," said Nami. "I don't think Luffy ever officially assigned him the role but he's essentially our first mate. He's been with Luffy the longest and is one of our most skilled combatants." Sanji was about to protest before Nami elbowed him. "Sanji-kun, too. We started calling him, Zoro, and Luffy the 'monster trio' at some point because they were the best fighters we had."

"So then I'm assuming Zoro's got a bounty on his head," Ria said dryly, her arms crossed.

"Yeah. Last we saw it was 240 million," said Nami. Ria's eyes widened in surprise. "Most of our crew got a big increase after they broke into Impel Down trying to find us. I haven't heard about any other incidents or increases since then but you guys know how little news we get from the outside world."

"Eh . . . Shanks follows your crew and, ugh, one of the last visits he made here before you two showed up had him plastering the entire fucking town with Luffy's 300 million poster. They were everywhere. You couldn't spit without seeing one, and Shanks kept on going on and on and on about it like a proud parent. I think Benn finally slipped him some sleeping pills, apologized to Mac for the mess, made the rest of the crew clean it up, and then they all went back out to sea," said Braeburn. He shrugged. "We've seen him do worse, to be fair – nothing harmful, just . . . some days we all wonder exactly how he got the title of 'Emperor'."

"Remind us to tell you about the drunk naked conga line sometime," said Ria. "I still want to know where he got that many official posters of Luffy, though, because Braeburn is right – the whole town was just wallpapered in them."

"Well they aren't exactly hard to get," said Braeburn.

"In that quantity? When you're one of the Four Emperors?"

"You just said it yourself – he's an Emperor!"

"Yeah, the enemy of the guys making them, sugah. Why would they give him all those posters?"

While Ria and Braeburn had their argument about the wanted posters, Sanji got up and gestured for Nami to follow him into the seamstress' kitchenette. "I don't know about you, but I've got a bad feeling about whatever the rest of Braeburn's story is," the cook whispered. He was looking at the other man with worry, and Nami was a bit surprised.

"I figured you'd be jealous," said Nami.

Sanji was about to ask why, then thought better of. "Well, okay, old me would be jealous, sure. Current me is happily committed, thank you very much," he said, giving Nami a peck on the cheek. "But that's not the point. Think about it. Even if it was just supposed to be a casual 'friends with benefits' kind of thing, consider who was in that relationship. One of those people had no business getting involved with someone at that time."

Nami raised an eyebrow. "You think Braeburn wasn't done mourning his wife?"

Sanji frowned and shook his head. "He isn't the one I'm talking about, Nami-san."

It took her a moment to register what he'd just said, and her eyes widened in surprise. This really wasn't about Braeburn not being ready to have a relationship in the wake of Phoebe's death, this was about Robin not being the best romantic partner for anyone, let alone the then in-mourning blacksmith.

"Think about it for a second, Nami-san. The first what, two, three months Robin-chan was with us? She wouldn't open up because she didn't value herself." Sanji crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "You know what it was like trying to chase her down when we were visiting Water 7. She kept pushing us away. I tried to cross a flooded canal, stowed away on a sea train, and fought my way through every single car to try and save her . . . but I couldn't. Damn it, she was practically rescued at one point but ran right back into the arms of the people trying to kill her."

Nami bit her bottom lip. This was making a sad sort of sense.

Sanji shook his head. "It's not good to be in a relationship if you don't like yourself. I don't think Robin-chan thought very highly of herself until the moment she started begging for us to take her out to sea. She wasn't trying to play a martyr – she didn't think her life had any value so sacrificing it for ours was a no brainer for her."

Nami's eyes widened. Sanji had a point. The last time Nami had spoken with Robin she'd been adjusting and getting used to having friends and being able to open up. She'd even started calling people by their names and not their jobs, which might have been the least personal way to refer to anyone on the ship. Even with Sanji and Zoro's constant fighting, it was still, in a bizarre way, interpersonal. Robin, on the other hand, had mostly kept her distance with the crew. Even her stories about Mr. 6 hadn't started to come out until after Enies Lobby.

Braeburn would have known her before all of that, and was out of her life long before Luffy came along. "So you're saying that while Braeburn might have been okay to be in a relationship, Robin wasn't?" Sanji nodded solemnly, and Nami bit her bottom lip. "I get what you're saying now. I get it. You're probably right, too."

". . . aaannd when were you two planning on telling us that Miss All Sunday was on your crew?"

Sanji and Nami paused – Ria and Braeburn had ceased arguing and had overheard their discussion. "We weren't going to not tell you," said Sanji. He folded his arms. "Baroque Works, as I believe we've already told you, was dissolved some time ago – long before we came here. With the organization gone, Robin had nowhere else to go and invited herself onto our crew – we didn't even know until we were several hours out to sea and she came out from below deck. When she asked to join, Luffy said yes and that was the end of it."

"We weren't exactly thrilled with it at first, but she proved to be a valuable asset."

Sanji coughed. "She bought you off with a bag of gems."

Nami gave him the stink eye. "She didn't even need to try with you."

Braeburn took a seat. "So she's all right then," he said. He closed his eyes and smiled.

"I think we just wanted to hear your side of the story before we told you ours," Nami said. "Robin had it really rough for a while – she wouldn't even call us by our names for a long time. I mean, she and I shared a room and spent a lot of our time together, being the only girls on the ship, and she would only call me 'Navigator-san'. I was shocked the first time she used my name."

"What happened to her?" Braeburn asked.

"Finish your story first – it feels like this has been dragging on way too long," said Sanji.

Braeburn sighed. "Long story short? I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and found out something . . . terrible, that Baroque Works was planning to do. Way more awful than I was willing to get myself involved in, even if it meant getting Chloe back." He looked at his hands and clenched his fist. "I didn't want to hold her again if my hands were covered in blood."

"You found out about their involvement with the Arabasta Civil War," Nami said.

". . . yeah," said Braeburn. "But . . . I wasn't cleared to know about that yet – that information was for the Officer Agents and their underlings only. And since I was, well, not allowed to know that and horrified by what was going on . . . I got 'fired'. And getting 'fired' from Baroque Works wasn't just a termination of employment – it's a termination of your life. They meant to kill me."

"He wasn't the only one that got fired. Around the same time, someone found out about my pregnancy and ratted me out. Apparently Mr. 0 didn't want to deal with me anymore."

Braeburn sighed. "I noticed a couple of our guys were acting strange, so I pressed them for information-"

". . . you interrogated them," Sanji said wrly.

Braeburn cleared his throat. "I pressed them for information, and they told me the two of us were getting canned. Once I made sure they were . . . dealt with-"

"You killed them!?" Nami asked in shocked.

"What? NO! I left them tied up in a closet!" He sighed. "Anyways . . . after they were properly detained and definitely not murdered . . ."

"Uh huh," said Sanji.

". . . shut up. Anyways . . ."

Four years ago . . .

"What do you mean they're making a giant bomb!?"

"What do you mean you're pregnant!?"

"Oh, what do you care, the baby isn't yours!"

Mr. 6 and Miss Mother's Day were staring at each other in disbelief and shock in the wake of their brief shouting match. They were both being fired from Baroque Works, and they both knew that it was a lot worse than just having to go job hunting again. Their lives were in danger, and if they didn't do something about it soon, they were both going to die. And for stupid reasons.

It had been a few weeks earlier than Mr. 6 had stumbled upon a Baroque Works warehouse that was storing an alarming number of explosives. Horrified, but too curious to back out, he'd investigated further and found the blueprints for a massive bomb. Although he was no demolitions expert by any stretch of the imagination, he could only imagine that the amount of gun powder and shrapnel present would be more than enough to kill hundreds, if not thousands of people.

Worse, the bomb was to be transported to, of all places, Alubarna, upon completion. It wasn't a place he'd ever been, but Mr. 6 knew it was the capitol of the kingdom of Arabasta, which was currently in the middle of a civil war. The Arabasta Civil War had been dominating the newspaper headlines for the past several months – citizens were stockpiling weapons and soldiers for a rebel army, Princess Vivi disappeared without a trace, and the outcry grew more and more extreme over the dance powder incident. Mr. 6 had previously assumed King Cobra was simply being greedy or selfish, but now he wasn't so sure – his investigation also informed him that there were Baroque Works agents enlisted on both sides of the conflict, which seemed like a huge conflict of interest. Why have agents on both sides of the war? Wouldn't it make more sense to pick a side?

And that was when he realized that, somehow, Baroque Works had started the war.

Of course he wasn't stupid, Mr. 6 was well aware that Baroque Works had some . . . unsavory people within the ranks and some of the things they did were . . . equally unsavory. But he'd thought it was mostly non-violent things, like smuggling and dealing in black market trades. Those kinds of stains on his record he could live with if it meant getting his daughter back. But whatever this was? This was bad, and the blood being spilled would belong to innocent people, not just scoundrels and pirates like he'd originally thought.

And then Miss Mother's Day . . . Mr. 0 wanted her dead because she was pregnant? He was still trying to wrap his head around that. Then again, she must have been around the same age he and Phoebe were when they found out Chloe was on the way – young, but she was probably sharp enough to take care of a baby. But Miss Mother's Day was unmarried, and based on what she'd told him the father was all the way back in the East Blue.

Part of him wanted to believe it was all a ploy to get her to trust him so she could assassinate him later, but the look in her eyes and knowing that she'd been acting rather strangely for the past few weeks . . . she was just as scared as he was. And soon enough she wouldn't be able to defend herself or her unborn child. No, this wasn't a ploy – she was in the same boat he was, except maybe a little worse.

He decided to take a gamble. "Okay . . . let's figure this out."

"Excuse me?"

"As soon as the rest of our base finds out we've been fired they're going to hunt us down and kill us," said Mr. 6. "If we're truly being fired . . . if we're truly being targeted by the company . . . then you and I are the only people we can trust right now. Like it or not, we're stuck together."

"I . . . damn it, you're right," she said. "Okay. Let's stick together at least until we're away from these assholes, then we'll go from there. Okay?" She held out her hand for Mr. 6, expecting him to shake on it. He nodded and took her hand. Her hands were a little shaky, but firm. "Okay. We need to get the hell out of here. Like now."

Most likely because word hadn't spread around their base yet, they were largely uninterrupted en route to an escape boat. A few of the Millions agents greeted them in passing, but it didn't seem like anyone was acting strangely. A few asked why they were in such a rush, and they explained it was company business they needed to attend to immediately.

That wasn't a total lie.

Mostly.

Maybe.

Still, Mr. 6 realized they were going to need some supplies. While Miss Mother's Day prepared the boat, he went to gather supplies. Food, basic medicine, extra rope, as much as he could carry in one trip. He packed it up as well as he could, took a deep breath, and headed back to the docks. This would probably be the last trip. There likely wouldn't be time for another one.

"Mr. 6!"

Mr. 6 nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his partner behind him. He spun around and, more due to the tension of their situation than any actual anger at her, snapped. "What are you doing here!?" he hissed at her. Miss Mother's Day looked taken aback for a moment, but the worry in her eyes told another story.

"The Mr. 4 pair's ship – I saw it," she said.

FUCKING HELL!

Mr. 6 had seen what happened to the last individual that the Mr. 4 had fired, and it was a fate he did not want to suffer himself. They liked to toy with their victims, playing a cruel game of baseball in which Miss Merry Christmas dragged their prey along the ground while her partner and his beloved dog commenced a fatal beating with baseballs and baseball bats. He turned to Miss Mother's Day. "How far away are they?"

"Maybe a half-hour, but they're coming from the north, right by where the boat's docked – we won't be able to move the boat without them seeing us," said Miss Mother's Day. She looked fidgety, afraid for what they both knew was coming and they were no longer sure they could avoid. "What are we supposed to do now?"

I don't know.

"There's a cabin on the south side of the island – maybe if we hide there they won't find us."

"Then how do we get off the island after that?"

". . . still working on that part. Maybe steal a boat late tonight?"

". . . you know what, if we don't even try we're fucked – south side of the island it is."

Taking only a handful of minutes to quickly stock Miss Mother's Day with additional supplies, the pair quickly made their exit and headed for the south side of the island, all the while unaware that they were already being very closely watched.

The old cabin clearly hadn't seen use in years – the wood was rickety and old, and there was a thick layer of dust and cobwebs on every surface. Miss Mother's Day started to cough upon entry, and Mr. 6 quickly embraced her to his chest to try and muffle the sound, patting her back and gently trying to soothe her.

It didn't work, because she started to cry.

"I'm scared," she whispered through her tears.

Taking a deep breath, Mr. 6 led her to the corner behind an old desk and pulled them both down to floor, trying to keep them out of sight. He did his best to soothe her, partially out of real concern and partially because they needed to be as quiet as possible. She understood that much, trying to softly sob and keep herself away from uncontrollable wailing.

They heard footsteps outside. Miss Mother's Day tensed, and Mr. 6 held her tighter.

The door to the cabin opened, and they could hear the clicking of heels against the wood floor. Mr. 6 furrowed his brow – they definitely didn't belong to Miss Merry Christmas, who never wore heels (he was reasonably certain she'd clawed someone in the face who'd made a joke about it once, thinking they were making a rude remark about her age or her weight or both), so then who did they belong to?

The visage of Miss Wednesday came into view before them. Mr. 6's stomach dropped.

"So, you obviously know that Mr. 0 has given the Numbers Agents orders to kill you, right?"

It was an odd sight to be sure. For one, Miss Wednesday was very young – she couldn't have been older than sixteen, maybe even younger – and had acquired her rank very shortly after enlisting. They'd only seen her on a few occasions for Frontier Agent meetings, neither of them getting much of a chance to get to know her very well. The only thing they really knew about her was that she had a spotted bill duck she was rather fond of named Carue and she fought with peacock string slashers. Other than that, she was an enigma, and seeing her here with their lives virtually in her hands was off-putting.

Mr. 6 calculated his chances of being able to overpower her so they could escape, but he decided against it. Mr. 9 was probably around somewhere and even if he thought he could take Mr. 9 (which, to be fair, he probably could) there was still the Mr. 4 pair to contend with, and he definitely didn't think he could take them on.

"Listen closely – my duck is currently 'lost' in town and Mr. 9 is helping me 'look for him'. Our ship is located to the east, about a ten-minute walk from here – faster at running speeds, obviously. We came alone, and if someone were to steal it from us we'd be out about a month's worth of food and fresh water," she explained calmly.

Miss Mother's Day broke out of his grasp and got to her feet. "Are you insane?!"

Miss Wednesday looked at his partner with an air of seriousness in her eyes . . . and he realized that something about her was different. Normally she tried to put on an air of arrogance and snobbish-ness, but now she seemed somewhat . . . eloquent, refined . . . almost regal, really. She wasn't mincing words – she was telling them exactly where they could find a ship to escape from the island, and a fully stocked one at that. A month wasn't enough to be sure, but it would buy them valuable time to acquire more.

"What are you up to?" Mr. 6 asked, eyeing Miss Wednesday suspiciously.

She gave him a serious look. "Nothing. I simply let a pair of fellow agents know that my duck is missing, and I felt like talking about the ship Mr. 9 and I took to get here. Lovely little thing – rugged, stands up to the weather on the Grand Line pretty well, comfortable for a pair of agents on the go," she said calmly.

"Why haven't you killed us yet?" asked Mr. 6.

Miss Wednesday turned her back on them. "You two outrank me. I would need to go and get backup first. I suppose it'll take me some time to get that backup – probably ten, fifteen minutes if I had to guess," she said. With that, she started to walk out of the cabin, waving her hand as she exited the cabin.

"Why are you helping us?" asked Miss Mother's Day. "Is this a trap or something?"

Miss Wednesday stopped and turned her head over her shoulder. "I don't want to kill a mother-to-be." She looked at Mr. 6. "I don't know what you did, other than acquiring one of the boss' many secrets, but now isn't the time to discuss that, now is it?" There was a twinge of disappointment on her face when she addressed him, and it got Mr. 6 wondering what her real motives were. She sighed. "But, a job's a job."

The Mr. 6 pair exchanged a confused look. Something was clearly very "up" with Miss Wednesday, but they couldn't tell what. At the very least, it seemed she was being in-direct with her offer of help to keep herself out of trouble (a necessity considering their current predicament) and there was a certain level of uncertainty and fear in her posture.

Unfortunately, they didn't have the time or the luxury to discuss it any further. If she was truly offering them an escape, a discreet way off the island, then this was as far as she could go. Using the Mr. 9 pair's boat would give them a clean get-away. The Mr. 4 pair, if they saw it, would assume it was the Mr. 9 pair until it was too late to go after them. They would still need to lay low for a while after making their escape, but their chances could only get better if they got off this island.

Miss Wednesday opened the door to the cabin. "I'll be back with reinforcements," she said. She chuckled in her usual demeanor, which Mr. 6 was now convinced had to be a façade, and threw them a wink over her shoulder. "See you later, baby."

Present Day

"That was the last we saw of Miss Wednesday," said Ria, crossing her legs and looking thoughtful. She sighed, reaching for her tea cup. "I mean, yes, she said she didn't want to kill me over getting pregnant, but . . . I don't know, it still seemed odd. That's why I think she had some kind of other agenda, you know?"

Sanji bit the inside of his mouth. Oh, you have no idea . . .

"Truth be told, we don't even know if she got away with it okay," said Braeburn. "That always bugged me."

Nami cleared her throat. "I can tell you she's fine and that she had an agenda, but . . ."

"Is she a member of your crew, too?" asked Ria.

"No, but Luffy extended the offer to her and I'm pretty sure it's still standing if she ever changes her mind," said Sanji. He looked to Nami, who had an indecisive look on her face. On the one hand they felt they could trust Braeburn and Ria with Vivi's identity, but on the other hand her situation was . . . "delicate" to say the least. Sanji turned back to their friends, who were now eyeing them skeptically, and it occurred to him that they were spilling the beans on their situation . . .

"Well, it's good to know she's doing all right now," Braeburn said. He laughed. "Wish there was a way to thank her but . . . I guess not right now." Ria shot him a look and he sighed. "That doesn't count and you know it."

The cook and the navigator exchanged a quick look of confusion. What was that about?

Braeburn turned back to Sanji and Nami. "Anyways, thanks to her help we were able to make a clean getaway from the island, but we weren't out of the woods yet. We made landfall about a week later, but weren't even close to outside of Baroque Works territory. In fact, we'd landed on a favorite hunting ground of Mr. 3 and Miss Goldenweek. . . and he decided to try and toy with us . . ."

Four Years Ago

"Oh come on, he wants to kill us with a fucking birthday cake!?" Miss Mother's Day complained as the two ran from the artistically inclined Officer Agents through the woods. "I am not dying on top of a fucking birthday cake! What does he expect us to do, strike really cool poses before he turns us into wax statues for his sick little collection!? I mean COME ON!"

Mr. 6 was too busy running and trying to find a way to outrun or outmaneuver the Mr. 3 pair. It had been a frightening encounter to see the two of them there, and they'd wasted no time in running away. While they ran, he told Miss Mother's Day about the handiwork he'd seen the Mr. 3 pair partake in before, and it was not how he wanted to die. Corpses frozen in fear for all eternity . . . the idea that he and Miss Mother's Day might end up like that terrified.

Images of their wax white corpses haunted his thoughts.

There was a sound of stomping behind him, as if something much larger than either Mr. 3 or Miss Goldenweek was behind them. Turning his head, he was shocked to see they were being chased by a giant (and oddly colorful) suit of armor worn by none other than their hunter. "HOLY SHIT!" he yelled, causing Miss Mother's Day to look back and scream as well.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?"

We're running out of time . . . what are we supposed to do!?

Determined not to die and desperate to try something, Mr. 6 started looking around for idea. He wasn't sure Rosalie could break through whatever that armor was made of out, but maybe he could stall for time. Up ahead he saw a few boulders and decided those would have to do. "Go on ahead!" he yelled. "I'll catch up!"

Miss Mother's Day didn't argue and darted ahead of him. Mr. 6 made a beeline towards the boulders and leapt up and over one of them, twisting his body in midair as he took his shot. "Valkyrie!" Rosalie's head smashed into the top of the boulder, sending several chunks of rock flying off and in Mr. 3's general direction.

SMACK!

One of the larger pieces hit Mr. 3 square in the chest, and while it wasn't enough to take him out, it did knock him down. Standing on top of the boulder, Mr. 6 watched as Mr. 3 struggled to get to his feet before racing after Miss Mother's Day. That bought us a little time, but not enough to get back to the boat and get away! That won't keep him down forever and I don't know what else I can do to-

"EYAHHHHH!"

"Miss Mother's Day!" Mr. 6 cried out, making a beeline for the sound of her voice.

"Veinte Fleur: Restrict."

Before Mr. 6 had time to react, he felt numerous hands grab him from behind and lift him into the air, suspending him in midair with his arms and legs spread, Rosalie lying on the ground a few feet away. Miss Mother's Day was similarly suspended, shaking in fear as her eyes were locked on their assailant, and Mr. 6 felt his heart sink.

Robin.

Miss All Sunday had her arms crossed, her eyes darting between the pair. Mr. 6 was a mess of emotions. This woman he'd spent the last year with . . . was she really going to kill him now? After all of the time they'd spent together laughing and talking and making love . . . it was going to end here and now, by her hands? It seemed too cruel to be true, but it seemed there was no escaping that fate now.

Chloe . . . I'm sorry . . . I was a fool . . .

Mr. 6 felt Miss All Sunday's eyes lock with his, and she gave him a brief, knowing smile. He felt something wet and cold on his back and shuddered. "What are you going to do to us?" he asked. He was afraid to bring up their affair – he wasn't sure she would be loyal to him over the organization, and he wasn't sure he could take the pain of that additional betrayal.

"Sell it like your lives depend on it."

Not sure what it was he was getting at, all chaos broke loose as Mr. 3 entered the clearing they were in, ready to strike. "Diez Fleur." Mr. 6 watched as several of Miss All Sunday's arms shot out of her palms, gently resting on the center of his and Miss Mother's Day's chest . . . and then more arms shot out of their backs. Watching Miss Mother's Day, he saw the arm behind her was holding something wet and red that oozed a sickly red liquid as it was crushed in Miss All Sunday's hand.

She's . . . she's . . . she's making it look like she's . . .

Understanding Miss All Sunday's plan, the two former Baroque Agents hung limply from their positions, trying hard not to breathe. This was what she meant by following her lead . . . she needed a witness to watch us . . . die . . . but . . . she can't be . . . is she . . .? Mr. 6 desperately wanted to ask her why, but he didn't dare say a word until he was sure Mr. 3 was gone.

"Wha, wha, what!? But they were going to be my beautiful statues! I can't turn them into beautiful statues if you kill them first!" Mr. 3 complained to the boss' partner. "This isn't the kind of art I want to make! Why do you go and kill them like that!?"

"Our orders were to kill them on sight, not turn them into artwork. They've been on the run for too long, Mr. 3 – try to remember that next time you decide to toy with your prey," she said in that deep, sultry voice of hers. "Now, go back to Miss Goldenweek and send word to Mr. 0 that I've taken care of the Mr. 6 pair."

"But-"

"Did I stutter, Mr. 3?"

Mr. 6 bit his bottom lip as he heard Mr. 3 give his boss an indignant "harrumph" before stomping away, knocking down several trees in frustration. Several minutes later, he heard Miss All Sunday sigh with relief and slowly lower him and his partner to the ground. Finally able to move, Mr. 6 looked up at his lover with confusion.

"Miss All Sunday . . . why?" he asked.

Miss All Sunday shook her head. "Find a hiding place and stay there until nightfall – I will make sure nothing happens to your ship, but I won't be able to help you any further after this," she said. She closed her eyes. "If the company finds out what I've done, it won't be good for any of us. So make sure you stay out of sight."

"Why?" asked Miss Mother's Day. "Why spare us when you're building that giant bomb!?"

Miss All Sunday turned to Mr. 6. "So you told her about your discovery?"

Mr. 6 glared at her as he got to his feet. "We're screwed anyways – what's the point now?"

"Fair enough."

"So then what are you doing with that bomb?" asked Miss Mother's Day.

"Don't worry about the bomb – I have no intention of letting Mr. 0 detonate it," she said. She turned to Mr. 6, her arms crossed and a sad look in her eyes. "That's why you need to disappear. Because if he finds out I've let the two of you live . . . my plan to stop him is going to fail." She sighed, looking upwards. "I have a goal I need to accomplish, and involving myself with these men is only a means to an end. But I'd rather not see them get their way – such needless slaughter is unbecoming of even a demon child like me."

Mr. 6 felt his stomach sink. She couldn't be . . . the monster of West Blue, Nico Robin? Mr. 6 tried to piece together what he knew about her, trying desperately to determine if his Robin was THAT Robin. No, no, it . . . it can't be . . . can it?

"Wait, wait, you're planning on backstabbing Mr. 0?! Why the hell did you tell us that!?" Miss Mother's Day interrupted his train of thought. "Hell, never mind that – shouldn't we try going to the Marines or something? I mean if there's a giant bomb involved shouldn't they-"

"-the Marines won't be of any help, and I told you so you'd understand the seriousness of your situation. Playing dead isn't just for the safety of yourselves and the child Miss Mother's Day is carrying in her womb," she explained. She pushed up her hat with her index finger. "Do you understand? Countless lives rest on your shoulders."

"Then why let us live?" asked Miss Mother's Day.

Miss All Sunday gave him a knocking, mournful look. "I trust you."

Mr. 6 closed his eyes. She's telling me she loves me for the last time. "I trust you, too."

"Now go hide – it wouldn't be good if Mr. 3 came back here unexpectedly."

Silently, Mr. 6 and Miss Mother's Day headed deeper into the woods as Miss All Sunday headed in the direction from which they'd come. Sparing only a few minutes to look over his shoulder, Marcus Braeburn watched as his beloved Nico Robin walked out of his life, disappearing into the brush, going on a mission from which she might never return.

Two Days Later

It seemed as if the coast was clear, and the former Mr. 6 pair boarded their boat and prepared to continue their perilous journey into nothingness. Not one of them had spoken a word during that time. Mr. 6 had been a gentleman and held back Miss Mother's Day hair one morning as she got sick over the side of the boat, but that was about it. Meals were eaten in silence, and he'd taken charge of sailing duties. Thus far they'd been lucky with the weather and sea currents, but he wondered how long that luck would last.

"Thank you, sugah," Miss Mother's Day said quietly, her torso still leaning over the side of the boat.

Mr. 6 paused, a little surprised to hear a voice after so many days of silence. "Any time – morning sickness is rough."

"I didn't meant that – I mean, yes, thank you for being so understanding but . . . everything else, too," she said. She pulled herself up and sighed, looking at the sky wistfully. "You could have just started running on your own and left me alone – might have been smarter to do that. I'm only going to get more and more useless until this baby pops."

"Nonsense – we were partners, I'm not going to just abandon you now," he said.

Miss Mother's Day chuckled. "You're too soft for this line of work, you know that, sugah? What did you do before joining us anyways?" Mr. 6 paused and stared at her, and she shook her head. "I don't think the secret identities thing matters much anymore – they've probably picked our replacements by now and even our Millions agents wouldn't think twice about killing us anymore. So at this point what have we got to lose?"

Now where have I heard that before? Mr. 6 thought to himself before extending his hand. "Marcus Braeburn – most people call me 'Braeburn'." Miss Mother's Day had a blank expression on her face for a few moments before she started to laugh, to which he crossed his arms and gave her a stern look. "What's so funny?"

"Elstar," she said. "My name is Ria Elstar. We have similar family names, no?"

Braeburn understood and gave her a knowing smirk. "Could be someone in the organization's idea of an in-joke, maybe. But it's probably just a coincidence, I think." Now that their laugh was over, Ria extended her hand back to Braeburn and he shook it, happier than he would have expected to be now that he and his partner had been properly introduced.

"So . . . what now?" asked Ria.

"We keep running, I guess – running until we think we're outside of the organization's reach."

"And then probably keep on running," she said. "Right now I think we're the only people on the planet we can trust, huh?" Braeburn sighed, realizing that for all intents and purposes, she was right. But Chloe would be . . . Chloe . . . oh no . . . Chloe . . . Braeburn couldn't muster a smile. It occurred to him that, even though they had escaped Baroque Works (for now), it wouldn't be safe for him to try and find his daughter, or else they might go after her to hurt him.

Worse still . . . how could he explain to her what he'd done?

Maybe she is better off without me . . .

"Braeburn?"

The weight of his situation came crashing down around him, and let out a cry of despair.

Many months later . . .

"There's an island there!" Ria said, pointing excitedly at the horizon.

Braeburn looked out and, sure enough, it was an island. It looked inhabited, but a little remote. That would be good – it would be less likely they'd run into any of their former "coworkers", so if they needed more supplies it might be good to stop there for a day or two to restock before going on their way. "You want to check it out?"

"I can smell apples from here. I haven't had any apples in months!" Ria whined, looking at her swollen stomach. "The fruit's probably good for me. I don't know how big this kid is but I'm going to have a hell of a time losing all this extra baby weight."

"You haven't been eating that badly," said Braeburn, chuckling as he changed course to head for the island. That was true – he made sure she had the best food that came into their possession and kept it as healthy as possible. Even so, he'd noticed she was abnormally large for a mother only about eight months along, probably about twice as big as Phoebe had been. I'm curious to see this baby, too. Was this Roronoa Zoro guy half giant or something?

As they got closer, Braeburn started to get a funny feeling about the island. Something was off, but he couldn't figure out what right off the top of his head. He kept looking at the island – he was registering something, probably something his subconscious has seen that the rest of his brain hadn't focused on yet. He looked at Ria – she looked tired, though he guessed that was normal for a woman that far along.

He saw a flickering black flag flying on the island. That flag belongs to the Red Hair Pirates. "Uh oh," he said.

"Uh oh wha- ooo!" Ria sat up straight, clutching her stomach. She paused for a moment before looking at Braeburn with nervous eyes. "The baby just did – AH!" She looked like she was in pain. "Braeburn, sugah, I think we need to get to that island. Like, right now."

"Ria!?" Braeburn's eyes widened in horror. Not now! NOT NOW!

"I think it's time!"

Braeburn looked at the black flag again and swore. They'd need to risk it.

Two hours later . . .

The inhabitants of the island were a lot nicer than Braeburn had imagined they'd be. The mayor was a bit forward when they first arrived, questioning what they were doing there, but immediately called for the island's doctor once he realized Ria's water had broken during their conversation, understanding their situation enough to know they meant no ill will towards Shanks or the island's inhabitants.

The delivery was taking place at the doctor's home, with Ria in the doctor's personal bedroom and Braeburn waiting with the mayor in the living room. He instructed them to make themselves at home and to help themselves to the fridge (Braeburn happily obliged – he made sure Ria was well fed but had skipped more than a few meals to protect his former partner).

"She's in excellent hands, you know – our doctor is one of the best."

"He seems like it, yeah," said Braeburn.

"Not many people come to this island anymore," said the mayor.

"I'm not surprised," said Braeburn. "Most folks steer clear of the Four Emperors."

The mayor grinned. "Shanks is a lot of things. Cruel is not one of them."

"Did someone say my name?"

Braeburn felt chills run up his spine as he and the mayor turned their attention to the front door. That's. . . that's him . . . Red Hair Shanks . . . one of the Four Emperors is . . . he felt lightheaded, but managed to keep himself from fainting at the sight of the man. The mayor, however, wasn't perturbed by the emperor and got up to greet him, hobbling over on his cane.

"Shanks, it's been-"

"Hey, hey, hey, if your knee is acting up sit down," Shanks said firmly but kindly, sweeping in towards the mayor and guiding him back to his seat. Once the mayor was seated, the pirate captain turned his attention back to Braeburn. "Ah, I was told we had a couple of visitors in town – and maybe another one in little bit."

Braeburn nodded dumbly. "Um, y, yeah," he said. "I, um, I'm sorry we-"

"Hey, hey, there's a woman in labor in the other room, it's fine," he said. "I can't say I'm not curious about why you were sailing around with a woman in that condition, though, and if you don't mind I'd like to know what's going on . . . guy?"

"Marcus Braeburn . . . Braeburn, please," he said.

The mayor bowered his head. "McIntosh Smith. I'm the mayor of the village here."

Shanks chuckled. "And is Sally Red Delicious the one giving birth?"

Braeburn coughed. "Yes, my friend is giving birth, but her name's Ria Elstar."

Shanks chuckled, slapping his knee with what Braeburn quickly realized was his only hand. Strange. I would think one of the Four Emperors would have managed to keep all of their limbs attached. Now's probably not the time to ask about that, though. "Mr. Shanks, sir, uh, your highness . . . thank you for understanding."

Shanks shook his head and chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about it – stay as long as you need."

Braeburn looked at him seriously. Living in the territory of an emperor, from what he understood, came with a heavy price – tributes, servitude, there was no telling what he'd want out of himself, Ria, and the baby. "And if we refuse your price?" He closed his eyes. "If we refuse, please let me shoulder the blame. Not my friend or her child."

"Uh . . . Mac, what's he talking about?"

Braeburn opened his eyes to see Shanks staring at the mayor with genuine confusion. "I think he assumes you require personal tributes," he said. He shook his head. "Don't worry about that – the only thing Shanks is interested in is a share of our alcohol production and a place to safely dock for a few days. He hasn't brought me or anyone else on this island harm."

"What? But I've heard horrible things about-"

"Not my thing. 'Oh look at me I'm an emperor and I'm ringing every last berry out of a bunch of farmers, look at how big and tough I am.' Please." He sighed. "But I can't fault you for thinking that – my peers and I have a . . . reputation. Some of it's founded, some of it's unfounded, but what Whitebeard and the other two do is none of my business as long as they don't try to make it my business."

One of Ria's labor screams carried into the living room and Braeburn got to his feet, a worried look in his eyes. She's already been through too much . . . is it really safe for her here? He turned back to Shanks, who was looking at the door to the doctor's room in mild interest. "She'll be fine – Dr. Gala's an excellent doctor with excellent training. He's from Drum Kingdom, and for a while they were training the best doctors in the whole world."

"What's he doing here?" asked Braeburn. He'd heard that the king of Drum Kingdom had gone mad and kicked most of the doctors out of his country, but most of them, provided they could survive the journey to another island, should have been able to resettle wherever they wanted. Why did this guy choose this place?

"Same thing as you, I imagine – he got himself in a bad situation and he's safe here," said Shanks. "If you want to know my, well, 'price', I would say just bring something to the table. That's what Gala's doing – a few years ago this island was hit with an epidemic that killed all of the doctors, so I brought him here to help."

That was a more than fair offer for their stay on the island, but he still felt uneasy. "And we'll be safe here?"

Shanks crossed his legs and nodded. "You're running from something, aren't you?"

Braeburn tried to hide the worried expression on his face, but he couldn't keep his composure in the presence of this man.

"I see – I won't press, but rest assured that you're not going to see a lot of outsiders coming and going. Whatever you're running from won't find you here," he said. Braeburn bit his bottom lip – he still wasn't sure about this, but it was the best offer they had. He extended his hand to Shanks, which the pirate redirected towards the mayor.

"Hey, I'm just the guy with the fancy flag and the free booze – this guy's the one you want to talk to about settling down," Shanks said with a laugh and a smile. Braeburn turned to the mayor and saw a genuine warmth radiating from the other man, and he knew that he could trust him, and by proxy, he could trust Shanks.

"Thank you," he said gently. He was about to ask more about the arrangement when a terrible scream erupted from the doctor's bedroom, and all three men received what was easily going to be the shock of the day.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S ANOTHER BABY YOU FUCKWIT!?"

One hour later . . .

Well. That explains everything.

The doctor had told Braeburn he could see Ria, at which point Braeburn apologized on her behalf for calling him a "fuckwit" (and a few other choice words). The doctor laughed it off, saying that he'd been called worse and he assumed she didn't actually mean it.

Ria was sitting up in the doctor's bed, a newborn baby girl in each arm. She was exhausted, she was worried, and she was glowing. "Hey," she said as he walked into the room, cracking a grin and chuckling to herself. "Check this out. Turns out I make really freaking adorable babies, huh? Look at them – I did AWESOME."

Braeburn smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, looking the twin girls over. The babies were sleeping, seemingly oblivious to the perilous journey their mother had carried them on for the last eight months. "Yeah, you did," he said. "You're lucky the three of you are all right after everything we went through." He sighed.

"We should stay here, sugah," said Ria.

"Actually . . . I was talking about that with the mayor and Shanks . . ."

Ria held up her head. "Wait, Red Haired Shanks is here?"

"Well, actually, I think he went to go get a drink . . . or three . . . but yeah . . . he did say he wanted to come back and see the babies-"

"WHAT DOES HE WANT WITH MY BABIES!?"

"What? No, no, he's a really nice guy! He's giving us a chance to live here!"

". . . what?"
"Well, think about it – however strong the company is . . . I'm going to go ahead and assume that one of the Four Emperors is stronger. We probably could stay here and . . . be safe, you know? Especially with the babies."

Ria looked at her newborns and sighed. ". . . it was going to be impossible to run with one baby. Right now I have two. If you ever wanted to keep running that would be fine, I guess, but my time running is done," said Ria. One of the babies started to stir, as did her sister. "If I run, I'd have to leave these two behind . . . and I don't want to do that."

"I think that might be the for the best . . ."

"You need some time to recover, too, sugah," said Ria. "Besides, I could use the help with Wendy and Sundae."

"Wendy and Sundae?" asked Braeburn.

"Yeah. After Miss Wednesday and Miss All Sunday. I mean I'm not going to spell 'Sunday' like the day, it'll be like the ice cream, but I think it's cute, you know?" Ria smiled. "We're alive because of them. These two are alive because of them. So . . . I think, even if we never see them again . . . it's my way of thanking them, you now?"

"That's a lovely gesture, Ria."

"Thanks, sugah."

Back to the present . . .

". . . and you pretty much know the rest," said Braeburn. "We haven't left the island since."

Sanji smiled. "So the girls are named after Robin and Miss Wednesday?" he said.

Ria grinned. "Yeah. Think Robin will be upset over that?"

"Nah, I think she'll be touched," said Nami. "Robin's had it pretty rough, but I think that's a story for another day." She sighed. "Braeburn's right about her being the Nico Robin but . . . she's not the monster the World Government makes her out to be. At all." She closed her eyes. "She used to talk to me about you, Braeburn."

Braeburn's eyes widened. "She did?"

Sanji was also eyeing Nami. "She did?"

Nami gave her boyfriend the stink eye. "Not in a lot of details, and she never told me your real name, but, well, sometimes when we had girl talk she'd mention you fondly. She never went into too much detail, but . . . I could tell she cared about you. She got quiet sometimes, though, like she was upset that you went away."

Braeburn lowered his eyes. "I . . . didn't think she still thought about me . . ." He sighed and laughed. "You know, up until today I thought Baroque Works was still out there – if we were spotted, we would have been killed and Robin's plan would have been up in smoke. It's why I didn't go looking for Chloe after we got away – I couldn't risk her getting involved in that mess. It would be her life and the lives of countless others if we did." He closed his eyes. "We heard the Arabasta Civil War had ended but we didn't get any of the details. We didn't know if Baroque Works was still out there but . . . it sounds like they aren't."

"Yeah. Luffy took out Crocodile and that was that," said Sanji.

"Sir Crocodile? That Warlord of the Sea who likes to hang out in Arabasta?" asked Ria. "If anything I figured he would have stopped Baroque Works before they got too far along in their plan. I'm actually kind of surprised they chose that kingdom considering it was the desert kingdom with the guy who controls sand. Always seemed like a dumb plan to me."

Nami and Sanji stared at Ria and Braeburn, realizing that they hadn't yet figured out Mr. 0's true identity. "You . . . didn't read about that part of the Arabasta Civil War ending, did you? I mean, there was a cover up because the World Government didn't want anyone to know that Luffy was the one who ended it but . . ."

Realization quickly dawned on the former Miss Mother's Day and her jaw dropped. "Are you telling me we were working for fucking Sir Crocodile that whole time!?" Braeburn also had a panicked look on his face, but he'd evidently been stunned into silence. "SIR CROCODILE WAS THE ONE PULLING THE STRINGS OF BAROQUE WORKS!? WE WERE WORKING FOR SOMEONE THAT SCARY!?"

"Well . . . yeah, you're not exactly wrong," said Sanji, frowning at his friend's reaction. "He was Mr. 0 all right." He leaned forward, a mischievous grin on his face as he turned to Nami for support – he had an idea about how to set their minds at ease. "So, let's tell you two the story of how our captain and the rest of our crewed kicked Baroque Works' fucking asses."

". . . you just want to talk about Mr. Prince," Nami said dryly.

Sanji smirked. ". . . there is always time to talk about Mr. Prince."

Author's Notes

. . . it's done. After two and a half years of trying to finish Braeburn's fucking backstory and hitting so many brick walls it's FINALLY DONE!

*cue the Hallelujah chorus and cherubs flying around Dixxy's head*

*posts fic, finds mob with torches and pitchforks*

. . . well then.

All right, let's do a little FAQ – first on the elephant(s) in the room, and then I'll address a few chapter related things as well.

Q: OVER TWO YEARS!? DIXXY WHAT THE FUCK!?

A: The biggest issue was probably good old fashioned "burn out", but around the time the last chapter was posted I was at the beginning of what ended up being a nasty breakup with my best friend of 14 years. Kids, you know how people say you should never live with your best friend? I found that out the hard way, and after discussing it with my mom we're reasonably certain that what I went through was the emotional equivalent of a divorce. 2014 and 2015 were not terribly kind to me and this is considering that 2013 involved me fighting cancer.

And while this next point is being SUPER remedied in the manga right now, having both Sanji and Nami exit the manga for so long likely didn't help. Needless to say the current arc has me intrigued and scared for Sanji and look I know Oda needs the frequent breaks now but DAMN IT I WANT ANSWERS T_T Seriously though how FANTASTIC has Whole Cake Island been for Sanji x Nami shippers? Go get your man, Nami!

Q: Was there anything in particular you struggled with?

A: Details. I knew that Vivi and Robin were going to aid in the escape, I just couldn't piece together HOW. Some stuff was written sporadically if I could wrap my head around it (such as a lot of what happened after Ria and Braeburn arrive on Apple Island) but a lot of that middle section was just difficult. The Mr. 3 stuff just kind of came to me and I was like "okay, sure, let's pit him against Mr. 3 a bit, okay, whatever".

By the way, as a pair to his dream being related to a Norse mythology figure pertaining to blacksmiths, Braeburn's attack names will be based on Norse mythology. Ria's will be based on Roman mythology per the names of her swords (Romulus and Remus) once I get around to them.

Q: You mentioned the cancer – it didn't come back, did it?
A: Nope! While I wouldn't say my health is GREAT it's got more to do with my weight (which I've struggled with for most of my life) than the cancer. I've been in remission for three years now – huzzah!

Q: Okay so you were burned out on fanfiction but where did that Danganronpa fanfic come from?
A: Well, like I said, burnout on this fic and One Piece, but right around the time the fallout with the break up was starting, I started to really get into Danganronpa, possibly as a coping mechanism . . . but yeah, I still really like it. The characters are entertaining (even if ALL OF MY FAVORITES ARE DEAD) and if you have Steam (so most of you) or if you have a PS Vita (so like maybe three of you) I recommend picking up the games, but definitely play them in the order of release (1, 2, and Ultra Despair Girls).

If you're already a fan of the series, please be sure to check out my fanfic, Haunted, as well as the works of my betas, Never Say Never by hunterofcomedy (who helped with the beta for this chapter!) and Give a Little Luck by ifyouhaveghosts. I've put a LOT of work into beta-ing Never Say Never as well so while hunterofcomedy has done the vast, vast majority of the writing every so often there's a joke or idea in there that was my brain child ^_^

Q: Okay, you updated again but will you continue to update?
A: God I hope so! While I still want to work on Haunted, I do have some plans for this series now that my interest has been renewed.

First of all, there will be some structural changes that are different from what I had planned two years ago – long story short, my original plans for Equal But Opposite were probably going to be massively unmanageable and I think I have a better plan of attack to get some of this stuff actually wrapped up. This means you should take my last author's note as being kind of null in void at this point as what I originally wanted for the next arc won't be happening as originally planned.

Secondly, I'm PROBABLY going to be doing some changes to "Sought". While I think "Vanished" is more or less fine (minus a few grammar and spelling spots that could use some smoothing out) in retrospect I think Luffy's group gave up too easily and they spent too much time moping, so there's probably going to be some new scenes and a date change in that last section. You will all be notified when this happens, but I think people will agree with some of the changes I'm making.

Thirdly, legwork has been started on the third one shot. I'm not going to say what the title is because I'm afraid it would be misleading at this time, but I need to figure out a) when I want to release it and b) at what point I'm going to close the book on Mass x Acceleration and start Equal But Opposite – namely there's an arc I want to happen, I just don't know if it's going to be the last arc of this story or the first arc of the next story.

Lastly, there might need to be a fourth multi-parter either taking the place of or in addition to the third short story. Some of the stuff I've decided I want Luffy and the Straw Hats to do is going to take way more than a short story to tell, and while I'm waffling on the title a bit, yeah, there might be something else coming in tandem with the rest of Mass x Acceleration.

Q: Are you going to incorporate any of the current manga happenings into this story? As in Chapter 812 and beyond? We image it's going to be a royal pain in the ass.
A: First, I see what you did there, Theoretical Reader.

Originally I wasn't sure what to do because I'd established a different pre-Baratie backstory for Sanji, since I was CONVINCED I had tightly woven in a story about Sanji being raised by his grandmother for a few years in North Blue before being ferried off by relatives after she passed. And while it DID come up it come up a grand total of . . . one time, like, just a few chapters ago, and it was Nami who said it.

There's a few ways I could go with this, but I haven't formally decided yet. You guys will find out what I decide to do eventually.

Also I trust Pudding about as far as Spandam with two broken arms can throw her. Just saying, I think Pedro had the right idea. Also Carrot for Straw Hat, please and thank you.

Thank you to both summerotaku and hunterofcomedy for beta-help with this chapter

Please be sure to leave a review

Dixxy