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It's not like Perona needs people to tell her they love her and care for her. She's not a child; more importantly, she is a hardened pirate who can bring every man she's ever met to his knees except for a certain long-nose that shall not be discussed.
But ever since Hawk-Eye has taken over the spooky castle that was supposed to be Perona's come home, Roronoa has taken to training like a man possessed, and Hawk-Eye fluctuates between training and lounging around the castle drinking wine.
Perona will grant that it's a lot less aggressively combative than the environment was at Thriller Bark, where she had to stake out her own territory and zombie type. She is loathe to admit that out loud, however, because Roronoa and Hawk-Eye spend most of their time doing aggressive things with swords and ignoring Perona—and Perona thinks she preferred having to fight for her territory over being ignored.
That said, she isn't one to accept a substandard situation lying down.
She needs cute things and company. There isn't much she can do about the former now that Roronoa is recovered enough that he is never off-guard enough for Perona to stick him in a cute costume, but the latter is just a matter of finesse.
Just because Hawk-Eye and Roronoa aren't the most ideal company doesn't mean they're worse than no company at all. (Asking them to spend time with her is, of course, out of the question. They aren't likely to agree, and even if they did, Perona doesn't know how long they would continue to agree. She needs something more reliable—something that will secure for her ongoing company for however long they're all castlemates, which is apparently at least two years, going by Roronoa's tattoo-in-the-newspaper schedule.) Perona comes up with a plan, and carries it out.
*
"The fuck?!" snaps Roronoa.
"Which of you stole my wine?" Hawk-Eye asks with a world-weary sigh.
"Since we're basically a family—"
"We are not." Their objections are perfectly in sync from opposite sides of the room. Perona shifts strategy—it's not as if she knows what family is other than a word, anyway.
"Since we all are trapped here together—"
"This is my house, you invited yourselves to live here while I was away."
"I am not trapped," says Roronoa, an objection so laughable that even Hawk-Eye's eyebrow twitches.
"Aren't you? If I told you where I hid the alcohol right now, you wouldn't be able to find it if I gave you a week."
"I could too." There's a lack of confidence in his voice that tells Perona he knows as well as she and Hawk-Eye do that she's right. She decides to let his lie stand and get back to the point.
"Anyway, we ought to eat together once a day."
"Absolutely not," Roronoa and Hawk-Eye chorus.
"It's ridiculous to keep making separate meals. Hawk-Eye, you and I are almost always using the kitchen one immediately after the other, and Roronoa keeps getting lost and eating baboons, and you're the one who complains about how much that makes them harder to train with."
"It's not a bad point," says Hawk-Eye. "As long as you understand this is only when convenient for me."
Perona doesn't push her luck with Hawk-Eye.
"Great! I've already set dinner out on the dining room table. The wine is in Roronoa's room."
Hawk-Eye heads for the staircase with a weary sigh. "I should have guessed."
"My room?" Roronoa repeats. "I'd have found it as soon as I went to bed!"
"Can you find your way to your room without me or my ghosts guiding you?"
"I can," he lies.
Perona rolls her eyes and leads him to the dining room.
*
The next day, by the time Perona enters the kitchen planning to start dinner, Hawk-Eye is already cooking.
"You're cooking for all of us?"
"I thought that was your plan."
"It is!" Perona opens her mouth to express surprise that Hawk-Eye is willing to cook for them all—but she closes it again a moment later, lest Hawk-Eye change his mind about the favor. Food that Perona doesn't have to cook is absolutely not something she'll turn her nose up at.
(Well, unless it's food prepared by Roronoa, who seems to take any animal or vegetation, roast it over an open fire, and call that a meal.)
*
Hawk-Eye is an excellent cook, it turns out, and Perona takes to being habitually "late" starting dinner to try to maximize the chances that Hawk-Eye will cook.
She expects to have to dissuade Roronoa from trying to enter his brand of dubious "cooking" into the rotation, but the idea doesn't even seem to occur to him.
It makes sense when on pressing him she learns that he will soon be twenty. Menace with a sword he may be, but he's still a teenage. He's the baby of the household, for all intents and purposes.
Perona wishes he were cuter, but she'll take what she can get.
This isn't what Perona had in mind when she dreamed out loud to Kuma of a spooky castle. She'd never admit it to either of her castlemates, but in a lot of ways, she thinks this might be just as nice, though in a different sort of way.
*
On the day that Hawk-Eye returns from one of his trips with a parcel he tosses at Perona, she's mostly resigned to make do with what she gets, here.
She opens the parcel anyway and pulls out an adorable teddy bear.
"For me?" she gapes at Hawk-Eye.
"You're very vocal about your wish that there were more cute things. Don't lose it—I won't bring you a replacement."
Perona waits for him to leave the room before she hugs the teddy bear to her chest and silently thanks Bartholomew Kuma. This isn't exactly what she'd wanted—it's better.
She tucks the teddy bear under her arm and skips to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Maybe she'll even make dessert.