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Something Worth Dying For	By : slj812000 Category: +M to R > One Piece Views: 10730 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter Fifteen: Ussop
Ussop was, if nothing else, a realist.
He had pride, just like everyone else, but he could also admit that he was not the brightest crayon in the pack. But likewise, he was also not the dimmest. So when Nami had warned him off about mentioning Fishman Village in the ambulance after the showdown with the Black Cat gang, he had quickly realized two things: one, if he valued his aching, yet somehow still alive body, he would take her advice and not say those two words together again. Two, Nami was somehow connected to that mysterious entity.
Ussop did value his battered and bruised body. When Garp had questioned him in regards to the gang fight, Ussop had held his tongue on that subject. In fact, he’d never said those words aloud since.
But Ussop was also curious to a fault, and that fault lay this time in the fact that he had spent his time at home recuperating from his injuries researching Fishman Village on the internet. Google had been no help to him; it only showed him articles theorizing about a crime syndicate that was going by that name that had its roots in East Blue. So Ussop had done something that he really shouldn’t have and hacked into the database of the Special Police, headed by none other than Luffy’s grandfather, Garp.
There, he had found a plethora of information. Names of known members, mug shots, suspected members, crimes committed, suspected crimes committed, areas of the city that were ‘owned,’ and even more information that Ussop hardly had time to process as he read it. His head was spinning in information about the yakuza that had claimed more than half of the city. Nami had been right; he definitely needed to refrain from talking about Fishman Village in front of anyone ever again.
But all that information didn’t explain how Nami had known about it in the first place. Ussop had tried piecing together theories, and once had even convinced himself that one stuck. But Nami’s actions blew it right out of the water soon after.
When she had saved him from getting the hell beat out of him by seven guys, she had threatened the men to retreat using those words: stay off of Fishman Village. It was reasonable to think that Nami knew about Fishman Village and the area belonging to them because she had been approached by one of their members. She could have just been repeating what was told to her.
But then, why would she preempt the declaration with a threat: I’ll only say this once more. Next time, it will be war. She was threatening them like she belonged to the yakuza herself.
It couldn’t be true, though. Nami had taken himself and Kaya to the police station to file reports on the incident. Granted, she had also dragged them away, declaring the police as too scared to help them. But after she’d taken them to the prosecution attorney, Smoker. She couldn’t belong to a yakuza.
Her conversation with Kuro Cat gave plenty of evidence to the contrary though.
“What, no threats about this being Fishman Village? Shall I let you call your employer to tell him what is happening here? Or possibly you think it unwise to tell your employer about your involvement with Garp?”
Nami had remained silent. What did her employer have to do with anything? How was her boss involved? Kuro had mentioned him again, too.
“Perhaps I shall be the one to send a message today. Tell your employer that I do not intend to invade his so-called Village. That as soon as I have finished with my business with that brat Kaya, I will leave this town for good.”
His Village. As though Fishman Village belonged to Nami’s employer. If that were true, that would have to mean that Nami’s employer was none other than the head of the yakuza, Arlong.
Ussop had felt a chill go down his spine at that revelation. Arlong was one of the, if not the most, dangerous men in East Blue. He was renowned for his cruelty and particularly notorious for being especially violent in his paybacks. Nami couldn’t be working for him.
But there was also her response to Kuro that had to be considered:
“You’d better kill me so I don’t tell him. He finds out you did this, it won’t matter where you go. He’ll find you and pay you back in full. And then some.”
It definitely didn’t do anything in terms of evidence to the contrary. At this, Ussop had to seriously consider that Nami belonged to the Fishman Village yakuza. In the following days, the evidence that surmounted didn’t do any favors to prove the contrary either.
The day he’d come back to school was the day after Nami had gone back to ‘work’ after the gang fight. She’d been covered in fresh bruises but passed it off as a mugging. Had her ‘boss’ been angry at the altercation? A week after that, she’d almost an entire week off school because she was ‘sick.’ Was it coincidence that according to the records in the Special Police file (that he was still hacking into on occasion), Nami was absent the same week that Fishman Village was alleged to have taken over a new part of the city?
And what about the whole incident at the Baratie? After the fact, the four of them had been told by Smoker that it was Don Krieg, former owner of that part of the city, and one of his men that had come into the Baratie. But long before the Don was brought into the Baratie, Nami had recognized the beaten man who had invaded the shudoku and warned Sanji about him. Had she known because she had been one of the persons dutied with eradicating the Don’s mafia?
Why had it been reported in the Special Police database that Nami had been taken without a fight by four men matching descriptions of known members of Fishman Village?
Because Nami belonged to the yakuza, that’s why. It was the only explanation, reasonable or otherwise. And yet, even with all the evidence pointing towards that conclusion, Ussop could not bring himself to tell his friends about it. Especially Sanji. Ussop was sure to get an ass whooping from the insinuation, regardless of how much evidence he came up in support of his claim.
But still, for Nami to disappear without a trace like that was more than a little odd. It tugged at his brain day and night, telling him that something was very wrong. He couldn’t help but worry over his friend that something bad had happened to her. He also knew he wasn’t the only one.
Sanji was definitely the most verbose in his concern for Nami. It got to the point sometimes where Ussop wanted to find Nami solely for the purpose of shutting Sanji up. But beyond his declarations of love and devotion to the ‘angel’ he had met and known for only a few short hours, there was true concern. Sanji had been the one to push her out of the shudoku, and therefore blamed himself for her disappearance.
In comparison, Zoro was a man of few words on the subject. In fact, the most words he had ventured on Nami’s disappearance were directed at Sanji. On occasion, Sanji had muttered to himself laments about not pushing Nami out that door, about having kept her in the shudoku with them, to which Zoro had always scathingly replied that worrying about things done to Nami in the past was irrelevant to what was actually important: her future.
But even as Zoro was reticent on the matter, he was still not the person who said the least on the matter. Luffy was completely silent. It was odd, and they all recognized it. Beyond helping out with a city search for Nami a few days after her disappearance, Luffy had neither said nor done anything regarding Nami since. Whenever the subject came up, he did not utter a single word. Even when directly questioned about it. He simply remained silent until distraction took him and he changed the subject, usually in the direction of food.
It had begun to irritate all of them. Ussop had a hard time putting up with Luffy’s aloof nature on the subject, and it had already been at least a week or so since Sanji had bellowed at him on the matter. Zoro seemed to be the only one who still had patience for the boy, but then again, Zoro had known him the longest. Maybe patience for Luffy’s quirks was something acquired over time.
That still didn’t put Ussop in a mood to deal with him, though.
So today, when Luffy had come banging on his door at six o’clock in the morning and demanded that Ussop get ready to go, Ussop had a very hard time mustering up patience for the boy. Ussop had complained about the time of day, stating that Luffy could have at least waited until a decent hour to come collect him. Luffy had listened in silence while Ussop had gone on that little tirade, rubbing sleep from his eyes and raising a hand to block the onslaught of the morning sun’s rays.
He was cracking a big yawn when it occurred to him: Luffy never remained silent unless the topic of conversation was Nami. Ussop blinked blearily against the morning sun, trying to get a good look at Luffy. What he saw made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Luffy was changed somehow. Gone was the carefree boy that loved to lounge around all day and eat food until he was ready to burst, laughing at anything and nothing. In his place was a determined, furious, quarrel-bound man that made Ussop pity the person who was to be his opponent.
Struck by the gravity of the mood, Ussop took a moment to think before asking the only important question there was.
“Luffy, where are we going?”
“We’re going to get Nami,” Luffy answered firmly. “We’re going to take her back.”
.o0o.
Since Ussop was a realist, he could also readily admit that he was a coward.
It wasn’t just fights or the threat of pain that made him cringe, Ussop disliked discord in general. He felt life was better served in a pleasant mood, such as hanging out with friends on a Friday afternoon watching television and bullshitting stories. Not storming a yakuza headquarters with a dismal four against a legion of hundreds.
But, as cowardly as he was, Ussop would not abandon a friend. Especially not one who had done the same for him.
He was not good at coming up with plans. In the Black Cat incident, it had been Nami who had directed everyone as he ended up as a helpless hostage. But Ussop was also not one to rush headlong into things, so as he changed out of his pajamas into some clothes that he didn’t particularly care for (somehow he knew his clothes were probably not going to survive the day) he scoured his mind for possible ways to retrieve Nami and somehow come out of this situation with his life intact.
First of all, he wanted some sort of protection. If someone was planning on using him as a punching bag, Ussop was going to be prepared for it. Somewhat crudely, he used a roll of duct tape to adhere a couple text books to his stomach. After some forethought, he added (albeit awkwardly) some books to his back as well to protect his kidneys. He also wanted something to protect his face (mainly his newly healed nose) but without more notice than a morning rousing to get ready to go, Ussop was without that sort of protection.
Secondly, he was not about to storm any sort of stronghold, yakuza or otherwise, without doing some research on it first. He grabbed his laptop and put it in a back pack, hefting that onto his shoulder. It wouldn’t be much, but after they picked up Zoro (which Ussop believed to be next on Luffy’s list of retrievals) they would have at least a thirty minute train ride to occupy before arriving at Sanji’s.
Third, and perhaps most importantly, Ussop wanted a way to defend himself. He was not so foolish as to believe that he was going to be on the offense part of this team, but as soon as his bushy-haired head was seen in cohorts with the other three (who would no doubt cause a disturbance), Ussop was going to be labeled a target. The text books on his stomach would help him if someone got close enough to beat him to a bloody pulp, but Ussop didn’t want anyone to get that close without a fight.
Emptying a drawer in the kitchen, Ussop put every knife he had into the back pack. Zoro had praised him for his knife throwing skill at the Baratie and Ussop did not take the praise lightly. At that time, he had merely been aiming to dislodge the gun from Krieg’s hand, but a knife in the forearm had done the trick just as nicely. Since that day four weeks ago, Ussop had been honing that skill a little each day. He wasn’t necessarily throwing knives, but he had gotten into the habit of setting up tin cans in a row in his back hard and throwing rocks to dislodge them. He’d gotten pretty fair at it, if he had to say so himself.
Lastly, as an errant thought, he grabbed both the duct tape and a can of WD-40. There was an old saying of his Pop’s that he could never really get away from: if it don’t stick and it should, use duct tape. If it sticks and it shouldn’t, use WD-40. Such an odd thing to think of at that moment, especially since his Pop hadn’t been around in years, but somehow, having those two things with him made Ussop feel more at ease about what he was about to do.
It had taken less than ten minutes for Ussop to get ready, book taping and all. Luffy didn’t seem to be in a mood to wait, though, which was why Ussop had hurried in his preparations. With the sun barely up, the two of them took off at a jog (much to Ussop’s distaste; he was carrying some heavy stuff) towards Zoro’s place.
Zoro lived in a tiny, two room apartment by himself. Ussop didn’t yet know why Zoro lived on his own or who took care of the rent for him since he knew it wasn’t Zoro himself. The lazy bastard spent most of the time he wasn’t eating or fighting stretched out sleeping and clearly didn’t have a job. It didn’t matter though, and it was probably a good thing that he did live on his own, since before they had reached the end of the block, Ussop heard the shrill ring of a telephone that was most definitely coming from his house. Luffy picked up his pace at the sound of it.
Zoro was, much to Ussop’s surprise, already awake when they made it to his apartment about ten minutes later. Ussop had doubled over and panted to catch his breath while Luffy banged on the door to get Zoro’s attention. Much faster than expected, Zoro appeared, already dressed for the day and wearing a suspicious look at the sight of the two of them.
No words were said. Luffy and Zoro simply shared an intense look for a few moments before Zoro turned away, walking further into the apartment. He returned less than a minute later with something Ussop recognized: the sword from the Clown incident he’d spied on. Zoro locked the door behind them, and sooner than Ussop really wanted (he had still not caught his breath) they were jogging towards the train station.
On the train, since it was not even six-thirty in the morning, they were able to find seats, much to Ussop’s delight. He took the laptop out of the back pack and started it up even as he still panted, spent from jogging.
“You should train your body more,” Zoro told him, unfazed by the jog. Ussop glared at him.
“I ran twice as far as you,” he shot back. Zoro pointed to Luffy, who was also unaffected by the exercise. “He’s abnormal!”
Zoro smirked. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Alright, Luffy,” Ussop began, getting to the task at hand, “I need to know exactly where we are going. Where is Nami being kept?”
If Zoro was at all surprised at what their mission was, he didn’t betray it. He simply looked at Luffy too, waiting for his answer. Luffy, who still wore a dangerous look that quite frankly, was freaking the shit out of Ussop, spared him an agitated glance. “Downtown.”
“Where, downtown?” Ussop asked, needing clarification. “Sabaody Street? Red Line District? Where?”
Luffy grabbed his head with both hands and shook it in frustration. He appeared to be too disconcerted to answer the question. Zoro sighed.
“Is it by Udon Emporium?” Zoro asked, listing off a restaurant that was downtown in the area of Sabaody Street. Luffy shook his head a little less frantically, which Zoro took as a no. “Yakitori Palace?”
Luffy shook his head again, seeming to concentrate. “Across the street from the ryoutei with the orange and purple sign.”
Of course, Luffy knew where Nami was not based on street names, but by what restaurants were near her. It figured. Ussop had to hand it to Zoro; he had known how to ask the questions needed when Ussop could not.
“There’s nothing across the street from there but some office buildings,” Ussop recalled, knowing exactly which ryoutei he was talking about. Luffy nodded in agreement.
That…certainly didn’t sound like a crime boss headquarters. Kinda made sense now why Garp and his men hadn’t found it yet. Ussop Googled a street view of the area and showed the image to Luffy. He pointed to a simple, non-descript building immediately.
“That one,” he declared. Ussop looked at the number on the building and searched for a building layout on the internet. It was listed as an office building, like Ussop had previously thought, though the top two floors were deemed adequate for living space according to schematics. That, Ussop guessed, was probably where Nami was. And therefore, by process of elimination, where Arlong and his subordinates were too. But still, fifteen floors of office workers…
“We’re going to need to get people out of that building before we go in there,” Ussop stated, thinking about the sheer amount of potential hostages that were available to the yakuza.
“Easy,” Luffy dismissed. Ussop and Zoro shared a bewildered look.
“Care to explain?” Zoro prompted. Luffy gave Zoro a mischievous look, at least for a moment looking like the care-free boy they were used to.
“Remember in middle school when we were in science class and spilled the white powder into the blue stuff?” Luffy asked. Zoro groaned.
“Luffy, we can’t start a fire,” Zoro disagreed.
“The school was empty in five minutes,” Luffy reminded him.
“I really don’t want to get arrested for arson,” Ussop complained, but in truth, it was a sound plan. It really would get all of the bystanders out of the building without much trouble. Somehow, Ussop knew the inhabitants of Arlong Park would not evacuate with the normal office folk.
“How are we going to get in there in the first place?” Zoro asked. “Can’t set a fire if we’re stuck outside.”
“That won’t be a problem, either,” Ussop told them. It was Zoro and Luffy’s turn to look at him incredulously. “It’s an office building. They get packages all the time.”
“That may be true,” Zoro pointed out, “but that doesn’t guarantee you getting past the front desk.”
Ussop had to concede that point. He was at a loss.
“Maybe Sanji will have an idea,” Ussop mused. Zoro snorted.
“That shitty cook,” he muttered. “He’s not going to be able to concentrate when we tell him where we’re going. He’s been blaming himself since this whole thing started. Giving him the chance to help save her is going to put that fairy-brain of his in overload. Might be better if he didn’t come with us.”
“He’s coming,” Luffy stated firmly, back again to the dangerous look. Even Zoro could see that argument was pointless.
They were off the train by seven and making their way to Sanji’s place, which was only a few blocks from Smoker’s office. They didn’t get far before they encountered a problem. The area was crawling with police men.
“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say your grandfather is looking for us,” Zoro hazarded. He got no denial in return. “We’re not gonna be able to get anywhere near that ero-cook’s place.”
“Who you calling an ero-cook, snot-hair?”
The three of them turned to see Sanji walking up behind them, not dressed in the usual host suit they were accustomed to seeing him in, but rather very casually adorned in jeans and a tee shirt. He took in their stunned silence and smirked.
“I got a call about forty-five minutes ago from your brother, Luffy,” Sanji told them. “He was very adamant about finding you. Conversely, told me not to leave the restaurant to find you under any circumstances. Naturally, I ignored him, since if I didn’t, in all likelihood, I would have ended up trapped there all day being baby-sat by East Blue’s most incompetent. Going with you and doubtlessly getting into trouble later sounded like the more appealing option.”
Zoro rolled his eyes, Luffy smirked, and Ussop shook his head in resignation. Oh well. At least they were together now. Sanji gave each of them a scrutinizing look in return before asking the important question.
“So, where are we going?”
.o0o.
In the end, Sanji did have a pretty good idea of how to get into the building and past the front desk, though it would cost them a few hours of waiting time.
Sanji, who had taken the explanation of where they were going with much more composure than either Zoro or Ussop could have imagined, had immediately asked them how they were getting into the building that held his ‘beloved swan.’ That corny pet-name was the only slip in Sanji’s composure that any of them saw as they rode the train towards downtown.
After admitting that the best idea they’d had was to deliver a package, and also pointing out the problem with that plan, Sanji had simply altered one aspect of it.
“Food delivery,” he calmly put forth. “You’ll have to deliver it to one of the floors personally.”
The idea was perfectly sound, although they wouldn’t be able to get into the building until around noon. The next problem lay in determining who should take the food in and start the fire. Luffy was not an option, since the people at the front desk were already familiar with him. Not to mention he had the memory and attention span of a goldfish at times. Sanji insisted he would be best, since it was already his forte, but Zoro rejected the idea, stating that he didn’t trust the cook to not be overcome by his feelings and ditch out on his duty to go off and fight alone.
“Oh, so you think you’d be better, is that it, droopy-eyes?” Sanji retaliated. “I doubt that front desk is going to let you deliver shit with a sword on your hip. You going to give that up in light of creating a distraction?”
As usual, the two of them were on the verge of a full-blown fight. Ussop sighed in exasperation, knowing they didn’t have time for that bullshit.
“I’ll do it,” he volunteered.
Sanji, who was starting to show more cracks in his composure, turned on him instead.
“They’re not going to let you in with a back pack either,” he snapped right away. “How do you plan on even starting a fire? A coward like you? You’re too weak to do anything but hide—”
Sanji stopped mid-rant when a hand clamped down onto his shoulder. It must have been a rigid grip, because Ussop watched as Sanji nearly bit through the end of his cigarette as his jaw tightened.
“Ussop will do it,” Luffy told him. He didn’t release his grip on Sanji’s shoulder until he relented.
“Fine,” he agreed, regaining his composure at the sight of Luffy’s countenance. “How are the rest of us getting in, by the way?”
“In the event of a fire,” Ussop told them, “the building’s locking mechanisms will automatically disengage. Every door in that building will unlock as soon as the fire alarm goes off.”
Sanji nodded in understanding.
“The problem is going to be getting past the security cameras,” Ussop lamented. “They’ll know we’re coming if we don’t disable them somehow.”
“I kind of want them to know we’re coming,” Zoro admitted, smiling darkly. “I want those bastards to look at me, judge me as weak and easily dealt with. And then, I want to beat the ever-living shit out of them.”
“Agreed,” Sanji said, crossing his arms.
“If they see Luffy, they’ll know we’re there for Nami,” Ussop pointed out. “They might do something to her.”
That point, the guys could not argue against. No one had any good answers and Ussop sighed in dismay, knowing he was going to regret what he was about to say. Well, maybe not regret, but certainly feel a lot of pain in the near future for it.
“I can probably disable the cameras,” he admitted. “I can do it after I’ve set the fire. No one is going to be able to get a good look at anything with people haphazardly running out of the building. I’ll just have to get to their security room, which I’m guessing is probably going to be on the sixteenth floor somewhere.”
“You said that’s where Arlong and his men are most likely to be,” Zoro pointed out. Ussop nodded.
“I didn’t say it would be easy,” he cajoled, trying to convey more confidence than he felt. Sanji put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him seriously.
“I’m sorry I called you weak and a coward earlier,” Sanji apologized. “No coward would ever volunteer for that.”
Ussop nodded, accepting the apology. Honestly, he hadn’t taken much offense to the comment, since he’d already known that Sanji had been lashing out at him due to his own feelings on the matter. Besides, he wasn’t wrong, really.
“You’re right, though,” Ussop told him as he shucked his shirt. The others gave him an odd look to see the text books taped to his abdomen. “I am a coward. Not very strong either. But that doesn’t mean I’m planning on going down without a fight. And since you’re right, and I can’t take in the back pack…”
Ussop took the laptop out of the bag and set it on a seat before dumping the back pack upside down and emptying its contents on the floor of the train. He picked up three knives and the duct tape, ripping off a strip before taping the knives to his left forearm. He did the same with four knives to his upper arm.
“The text books and the tape kind of take away from it, but I have to admit,” Zoro commented, “the whole knives thing is a little bad ass.”
Ussop smiled, his pride swelling a little as he taped more knives to his right arm. “I didn’t exactly have a whole lot of time to prepare for this.”
They all shared a chuckle, even Luffy. Done plastering himself with knives, Ussop put the smaller, leftover knives in his jeans pockets and redonned his shirt, putting the laptop and the other items, the remaining duct tape and WD-40, back in the back pack.
“So what are we going to do for the next—” Zoro checked his watch, “—four and a half hours?”
“Eat a lot of meat,” Luffy declared. Ironically, that wasn’t a terrible idea. None of them had managed to have breakfast that morning. So when the train stopped near downtown, they went to the ryoutei that was across the street from their target.
It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing at the ryoutei at first. Promptly after sitting down, Luffy had tried to order two of everything on the menu. They were told to show their money first. They all looked blankly at each other.
“I gave all my money to you yesterday,” Ussop told Luffy, shrugging. Zoro and Sanji nodded in agreement. Luffy looked like his usual, stupefied self.
“I already spent it,” he admitted. The others grumbled while they were promptly told to leave; the restaurant only served paying customers.
“I’ll pay for whatever they want,” offered a man in the corner who was sitting by himself at a table with a cup of tea. The waiter looked from the boys to the man in the corner and asked him if he could do the same and show his money. A fat stack of berries appeared on the table, and Ussop could see that the denomination on the top bill was ten thousand berries.
The waiter stood stupefied for a moment before scuttling off to the kitchen to place the desired order.
“Thanks, mister,” Luffy called jovially, somehow back to his former self. If Ussop had to guess, he’d have pegged the change in attitude on the forthcoming food.
“Not a problem,” the man assured them, taking a sip of his tea and resuming his people watching out the window of the ryoutei.
Ussop shared a look at Sanji and Zoro, seeing that they held the same attitude as himself; there was something wrong about the man in the corner. Despite being indoors and it being the dead of summer, the man wore a thick sweatshirt and had the hood up, obscuring most of his face. Something about it didn’t seem right. Still, they were hungry enough that none of them were willing to turn down the man’s offer to pay for their food.
Over the course of the morning, food came to their table in waves. Everyone ate until they were satisfied. Well, except Luffy. He simply ate until Sanji told him he was cut off; they didn’t need him puking food everywhere when they got down to business because he hadn’t let his stomach settle. At that comment, Ussop thought he heard a chuckle from the man in the corner.
Ussop sent him a fleeting glance and managed to catch a wide grin visible from beneath the hood of the sweatshirt, and on one of his upturned cheeks, the markings of a tattoo. He turned his attention back to Luffy, though, when he burped so forcefully that the glasses on their table shook.
“Disgusting,” Sanji muttered. “Such appalling manners.”
“I’ve seen worse,” Zoro admitted. “You’re lucky he’s using chopsticks. Usually, he just uses his hands.”
“Pig,” Sanji declared, checking his watch. He looked up and signaled to the waiter. “We need an order wrapped up to go.”
While Sanji put in the order necessary for their distraction, Ussop heard a cell phone go off. Since the four of them had turned theirs off as soon as they’d all met up (not wanting their movements to be tracked down by Garp), Ussop knew it had to belong to the man in the corner. He was the only person in the establishment besides themselves. Ussop tried to discreetly eavesdrop.
“What is it, Koala?” the man asked in way of greeting. He listened silently for a few moments.
“I am enjoying some tea at a ryoutei in the Red Line District,” the man spoke, obviously informing his conversation-mate of his location. He was again silent for a time.
“I am not at all interested in that,” he informed the caller. “And you have your instructions.”
Luffy let out another bellowing burp, so Ussop missed part of the man’s next words.
“—a nice place to sit and watch the show,” he said. “I want no more calls unless there is a real problem. Am I understood?”
Apparently he was, because the phone was disconnected after that and placed back in the man’s pocket.
“You ready?” Sanji asked Ussop, grabbing his full attention. On the table was a wrapped up order in a brown paper bag, ready to go. Ussop felt a twinge of panic hit him.
“Ye-Yeah,” he stuttered. A little numbly, he stood from the table and picked up the to-go order.
“Wait,” Sanji stopped him. He turned to the waiter. “Can we borrow a dish towel and an apron?”
The waiter looked incredulous, but then glanced at the fat stack of bills on the table of the man in the corner. The waiter shrugged and went to retrieve the items in question. Sanji stood and yanked on Ussop’s hair, pulling the wild, afro-like locks into a bun on the back of his head and securing it with a tie.
“You can’t look nervous,” Sanji instructed him, putting his cigarette lighter into the front pocket of Ussop’s shirt. “You’ll give yourself away immediately. The best thing you can do is look impatient. No errand boy ever wants to do his job. Got it?”
Ussop nodded as Sanji affixed the dish towel over his hair like a bandana and tied him into the apron.
“You look the part,” Sanji assured him. “You just have to act it now. Can you do it?”
“When I was getting the shit beat out of me a few blocks away from school,” Ussop said, adding the duct tape and WD-40 to the brown paper bag that housed the food, “Nami rushed into that foray and took a knife through the hand for me without blinking and eye. This is nothing in comparison. So yes. I can do this.”
He hadn’t told Sanji that story to assure him, he’d told it to assure himself. With that memory fresh in his brain, Ussop took the food delivery and turned, walking out the door of the ryoutei. When he was crossing the street, he immediately knew there was a hiccup in their plan. A car rolled by in front of him, driven by none other than Smoker.
It was obvious that the man was looking for them.
Ussop considered himself lucky that Smoker didn’t stop in the middle of the street and drag him by the ear into the car and take off with him. He attributed it to not wanting to cause a scene, because just as easily as Ussop recognized him, Smoker recognized Ussop. The man who was never without a cigar went white with anger as he kept on driving, only to turn on the next block. Ussop moved his ass across the street to get into the building that housed Arlong Park before Smoker could possibly get out of the car and stop him.
Inside the building, Ussop went straight to the front desk, which was manned by a single person, a man in a business suit. He huffed heavily as he reached the desk.
“Delivery for Saito, third floor,” Ussop rattled off, picking the most common last name he could think of. The man behind the desk gave him a squint of distrust.
“Saito works on the fourth floor,” he replied, looking suspicious. Ussop tsked in irritation.
“Third floor, fourth floor, whatever,” he complained. “Not my problem Pop can’t hear a damn thing anymore, but I’m the one stuck delivering for the deaf bastard.”
The man behind the desk raised an eyebrow in dismay but jerked his head to the side towards the elevators. Ussop headed towards them and the man from the desk followed. He pushed the button for Ussop to let him in the elevator and scanned a card before pushing the button for the fourth floor. Mercifully, the man returned to the desk and Ussop was left alone for the journey to the fourth floor.
On the fourth floor, there was another reception desk, though this time worked by a woman. Ussop went to the desk and asked for Saito. The woman gave him a look of irritation before pointing down a hallway to the left. Ussop went as directed turning into a room marked maintenance when his eyes fell upon it.
The maintenance room was, blessedly, empty, but Ussop had counted on that. It housed several items belonging to the janitorial staff and Ussop doubted anyone would venture into this room to disturb him anytime soon. Discarding the food to the side, he looked around to see what would be good in starting a fire. Admittedly, there wasn’t much. A mop with a wooden handle, some dust rags, and a half a dozen rolls of toilet paper.
Damn it, he had to think fast! Smoker would have no doubt called Garp as soon as he spotted Ussop, and that meant that they were probably already looking in the area for the rest of the guys. He figured it had probably been only two or three minutes since he’d seen Smoker, but if he was in the area, others probably were too.
“Think!” Ussop urged himself. Only one idea came to him, and it involved an explosion. Well, if he was going to do something, he might as well go big or go home.
Ussop went to the bag of food and pulled out the duct tape and WD-40. He put the duct tape around his wrist like a bracelet and set the WD-40 on the floor. He then pulled the six rolls of toilet paper to the center of the tiny room and stacked them in a pyramid of sorts. He sprayed the toilet paper liberally with WD-40 before putting the can on top of the stack of toilet paper. Then, taking the lighter from his pocket, he deftly lit the toilet paper on fire, watching it instantly engulf in flames.
Ussop bolted from the maintenance room and headed for the stairway, which was just a bit farther down the hall. He didn’t stop once he was in the stairwell, but groaned as he began to climb flights of stairs. Damn it, why couldn’t this guy Saito have worked closer to the sixteenth floor? Twelve floors were going to be torture to climb.
About two floors up, Ussop heard what he’d been waiting for: a loud bang that indicated that the WD-40 can had exploded in the maintenance room. The slippery liquid would have likely saturated the walls and would, with any luck, have lit the entire room on fire. Ussop hoped no one was clever enough to try to put it out with an extinguisher.
Two more flights up, the fire alarm sounded. Perfect! As he passed by a door on his way past the ninth floor, he heard the click of the lock disengaging and knew that was happening throughout the building. Ussop kept ascending the stairs, though his legs were starting to rebel against the exercise.
When he reached the twelfth floor, people started showing up in the stairwell with him, though they were descending , not ascending. He got a few weird looks as he skirted by them, still making his way up. He was panting as he passed the fourteenth floor, his pace slowing to a crawl not only due to fatigue, but the general amount of people going down the stairs.
At the fifteenth floor, he stopped to catch his breath. He needed to be able to move about without problems when he entered the sixteenth floor. For reassurance, he patted his jeans pockets, feeling the stiff metal of the knives there. He could grab one at a moment’s notice if need be.
Was he ready to do this?
Fuck no. He wouldn’t be ready if he had a year to prepare for this. Still the image of Nami standing over him, a knife embedded in her hand as she defended him against others after knowing him for less than two days burned in the back of his mind.
Ready or not, here he goes.
Ussop climbed the last ten steps of the stairwell slowly, half expecting there to be a thug guarding the door when he arrived. It kind of surprised him that there wasn’t. Maybe they didn’t realize that the doors had unlocked and were accessible by anyone now.
Ussop put his hand on the handle and steeled himself for a moment. He turned the handle and stepped through the door to the sixteenth floor.
- 14
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- 16
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Something Worth Dying For