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Crocodile had never been a man to feel jealousy; anger and envy, sure, anguish, suffering, and fear—he’d even experienced recently because of that Straw Hat brat. He even felt happiness and empathy now and then. But jealousy? That was a new emotion, and he didn’t like it at all.
All because of that damned red-haired bastard. Not in a thousand years would he understand why Hawkeye and the clown got so affected when the subject was Shanks. Both of them seemed like moths drawn to a flame at any mention of the Emperor—whether due to a rumor, a piece of news, or even his wanted poster, which had them inspecting every little detail. It was driving Crocodile insane.
He watched Buggy look at the wanted poster for the tenth time in under two minutes, the blue-haired man analyzing it as if his life depended on it, even scrutinizing the angle of the damned photo. That made the former Warlord clench his cigar between his teeth. When the clown took the poster back into the sunlight once again, the sand-man couldn’t hold back and exclaimed:
"If you're so worried about your precious redhead, why don't you call him? I bet he’d love a call from you."
"Huh?" muttered the "Emperor," without taking his eyes off the poster, irritating the older man even more. Crocodile strode over to the pirate and yanked the poster from his hands, making Buggy jump in surprise, falling apart entirely.
"I’m talking to you, you little idiot! Who do you think you are, ignoring me like that!?"
"Calm down, Crocodile. He didn’t mean any harm, right, Buggy?" Hawkeye said, reminding the sand-man that the swordsman was also in the room, sitting comfortably in his armchair, reading a news article on Shanks’ latest big feat. Crocodile’s rage only grew. Were the two of them ganging up on him? This wouldn’t stand—he’d kill that redhead with his bare hands and bring back his head as a trophy.
"Answer, clown, or I think he's going to explode," Mihawk said with a slight smile, which only served to irritate Crocodile even more, making him almost ready to change targets.
"I-I wasn’t ignoring you, dear Croc… I was just distracted," Buggy replied, sitting at the man's feet with his head down and his voice hesitant.
"What’s so interesting about that redhead, anyway? A drunkard with no basic hygiene who hits on anything that breathes—I bet he’s not even that skilled." Crocodile said, analyzing the poster where the redhead smiled as if mocking him: *"Look at me, the two men you desire only think about me. Hahaha!"*
"He’s not like that… he’s… gentle," Buggy replied, so low it was almost a whisper, but everyone in the room heard him.
"Yes, he’s gentle, charming, and handsome, and very skilled in everything he sets out to do. You must miss him a lot, don’t you, Emperor?" Mihawk spoke, walking over to the clown, who was still sitting on the floor.
"He reminds me of home… and happy times, I think," the blue-haired man said, lifting his head, with small tears at the corners of his eyes. Crocodile’s heart clenched. He’d seen the stupid clown cry before—it was what he did best. He cried when threatened, when praised, when someone from his crew was absent for too long, even when Crocodile killed one of his bananawani to eat. But it was the first time he’d seen the Emperor cry so deeply, as if life had slipped through his fingers, and it filled him with nausea and rage—intense rage.
"He abandoned you. He doesn’t care about you; he doesn’t care about either of you! You’re just a joke to him!" Crocodile yelled furiously, lifting the clown and tossing him toward the swordsman, who caught him. Both looked at the true leader of the Cross Guild, who was red with fury, his cigar broken in two. "I protect this island, I make sure you both live comfortably, and I fulfill your ridiculous requests. Forget that redhead! He doesn’t care about you! I’m here, so start showing that devotion to me!"
Seeing the clown’s confused look and the swordsman’s slight smile, the sand-man simply huffed, ripped the poster in half, and stormed out of the room, hearing the conversation between his two business partners:
"What got into him? I’ve never seen him so upset," Buggy exclaimed.
"I think our dear Crocodile is jealous," Mihawk’s voice was the last thing Crocodile heard. He hated feeling like this, hated losing control, and hated even more being found out. And, without a doubt, he hated Shanks, the redhead.