Chapter Text
The fight with Kuma Bartholomew had been going on for minutes, perhaps even longer, but the blows were so rapid that time had become meaningless. There was certainly a reason why that man had earned the title of "Tyrant" in the days before he became a member of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. The pads on his palms were capable of blocking and repelling almost every blow thrown at him, yet the fight seemed extremely even. In fact, his opponent hardly seemed fatigued, although perhaps unnerved by his inability to land a single effective blow.
Kuma towered over her by far more than a few meters, yet this seemed no cause for fear. The young woman had wavy, raven-black hair, cut at the shoulders and plastered to her forehead from the sweat generated by the effort of the fight, and dark, focused eyes attentively following her opponent's moves, particularly the compressed air projectiles that continued to be hurled at her. She wore a worn leather jacket, loose enough to allow her to easily use her katanas, whose sheaths were crossed on her back: a dark scabbard, embroidered with purple details, concealed a black blade with flames adorning its iron; the one who had given it to her, almost two years ago, had named it "Tartarus"; the other katana, with a white scabbard adorned with celestial clouds, contained a white blade, with light details on the edge, whose name was "Paradisus." Her chest was covered in white bandages, sticky with sweat, which bound and compressed her breasts. Beneath them, at the level of her abdomen, was a long scar that stopped at the top of a pair of black military-style trousers. On her feet, she wore dark boots.
Overall, she was an attractive woman, although muscles had replaced most of her feminine curves, and her frowning expression and intense gaze irreparably compromised the sweetness that a sprinkling of freckles gave her face.
To be honest, the fight with Kuma had been accidental and completely unintentional. She was simply walking from Grove to Grove in the Sabaody Archipelago, among the enormous Yarukiman mangroves, and somehow she'd stumbled upon a marine garrison. She'd realized this when a rather large group of marines asked her to identify themselves. The woman's response must not have been particularly pleasing to them: "If not, what happens? Will you force me?" Unfortunately, irony doesn't seem to be particularly effective, especially when you're walking around armed with swords.
In reality, the situation had been resolved rather quickly; with all the marines down and not a drop of sweat on the swordswoman's part, she'd been ready to leave without causing further trouble, had it not been for one of the marines who had managed to request support troops in time with a Den Den Mushi.
So, less than a minute later, she found herself surrounded by far more marine officers than she would have expected during her simple stroll through the Sabaody Archipelago. Once again, however, she had managed to gain the upper hand, and was finally about to leave the area before further reinforcements arrived, when the member of the Seven Warlords of the Sea appeared in front of her. She had recognized him almost immediately; being a pirate, learning who the most lethal members of the World Government were, or, in the case of the Seven Warlords, its allies, was an extremely essential necessity. Escape, faced with someone like him, didn't seem like a viable option, so she decided to confront him head-on.
She began to lunge at him with her sword drawn, while his opponent absorbed the blows with his palms and pushed her back with the same intensity as the attacks. This had been their dance for minutes now, occasionally interrupted by slashes that struck their target effectively, to which the corsair responded with lightning-fast compressed air bolts, which she managed to dodge with some difficulty. She had come to one certainty, however: there was something strangely inhuman about Kuma Bartholomew, an unnatural coldness that veered into impassive apathy.
“Hey! Government Flunky! Why don't you let me go and get this over with?” she'd yelled at him at one point when one of his particularly large air blasts forced her back.
He didn't respond, so she continued her attempt to instill a reaction beyond his laconic silence.
“What? Have the circuits fucked up your brain?” she tried again, attempting to refute her hypothesis about her enemy's fate.
And it was precisely in that one moment of distraction that Kuma Bartholomew managed to catch her by surprise. He moved so quickly that he vanished from the space he occupied in front of her, until the next second she sensed a presence behind her. She spun, sword raised, ready to attack, wrapping the blade in her armor's haki to enhance her blow.
"This time I won't—" she was interrupted by the man, who for the first time addressed her verbally.
"If you were to go on vacation...where would you like to go?" he asked casually, but, struggling with a habit that not even the circuits that had now taken over her brain had been able to quell, she froze.
"What the fuck is this question—?" She didn't have time to answer, the man's hand rested on her shoulder, after that gesture, it was emptiness.
Not exactly empty, but not entirely self-aware either. She felt half-asleep, in a dreamless sleep that left her with a sense of being in a limbo of helplessness.
In the flashes of consciousness that occasionally interrupted that strange torpor, she realized she was flying. Not her usual flight; this was wingless and without her will, as if she had been encapsulated and sent far from the Grove where she had been only a short time before toward an unknown destination. The journey continued for an unquantifiable length of time, then she finally touched down—if you can call it touching.
The collision with the ground pulverized part of the soil beneath her, creating a chasm about a meter deep and two meters wide. Her first inspiration was the air saturated with dust, which, in addition to the flight, made her dizzy. She touched her forehead and groaned, feeling as if a tank had run over her. And put the car in reverse. Over and over again.
“Fucking bastard, where the fuck did he send me now?!” she snorted, rubbing her eyes.
“Fuck, it’s a good thing I can fly back, that bastard doesn’t know what’s in store for him,” she thought, already savoring, with sadistic joy, her return to the Sabaody Archipelago. “I took it too slow, I should have started getting serious with that fucking bear right away.”
Just as she was sitting up, she sensed the arrival of a decidedly large crowd, and before she knew it, she looked up and realized she was surrounded. Arrows, dozens and dozens of arrows, were aimed in her direction and nocked into strange, snake-like bows. She immediately noticed, with mild surprise but also mild satisfaction, that all the warriors in front of her were women. Exclusively women.
“Raise your hands, intruder! And don’t play any dirty tricks!” a woman with black hair tied in a very high ponytail shouted at her.
Well, there's no peace here either. Thanks, bear.