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mamamittens · 26 days

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A Lone Melody (Pt. 9)

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This chapter was sponsored by @yanderefangirl as part of the "Oh Shit Sale", thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Warnings: Discussions of dental issues, child abandonment, abuse, racism, mourning, and poison.

Word Count: 3,183

As Jinbe expected, things got a lot harder.

Well over half the crew left with Arlong for their damn revenge and the sudden lack of so many hit hard. Especially for Melody, who’s small world just got even smaller than it had been before.

They set sail for Fishman Island in the hopes that familiar stomping grounds would soothe the loss they felt.

Melody hadn’t stopped crying for longer than an hour at a time, tears clinging to her lashes even when she had her favorite snack. Jelly crackers topped with chopped coral—poisonous of course, a real bitch to prepare safely but she loved it more than anything else they could make. It was about the only thing she could keep down and Jinbe was unsure if it was because she loved it so much or if the poisonous quality was so desperately needed.

What was worse were her hands… she kept gnawing on them in her anxiety. Covering her skin with a thin layer of poison and tiny puncture wounds. Anything they gave her to relieve the urge to self-soothe either didn’t last or just seemed to make it worse.

They were halfway to Fishman Island when Jinbe was awoken by a different kind of crying.

Not the soft, upset sobs in her sleep that he sometimes woke up with his hand rubbing her back to sooth her. But a sharp, gasping, pained cry. Jinbe’s chest tingled, drool soaking his yukata. Almost burning from prolonged exposure to the toxin.

Even in the dark, Jinbe could see it. A thick pool of venom in Melody’s mouth, small hand grasping a metal ring. Which she shouldn’t even have but still.

“Oh, pup.” Jinbe cooed softly, sitting up carefully as the poison penetrated his skin and made him dizzy. “What happened?”

As gently as he could, he pulled down her chin, mindful of the literally glowing venom laced drool. It was bright enough he could make out the sharp points of her teeth. And the several that were broken, bits of fragments on her tongue. He winced, certain this would not get better until her teeth came out. But with the amount of venom and the sharpness of her fangs, few could afford to risk it.

It had only been a few minutes of it sitting on his skin and Jinbe already knew he needed to wash it off now before more dramatic effects take place.

Faintly, Jinbe recalled that baby teeth could be stubborn. Adult teeth fall out all the time for shark-fishmen. Arlong did it as a party trick when he got drunk, new teeth popping into place almost instantly.

“P-Papah! H-Hurt!” Jinbe felt his heart sink.

Melody barely ate as it was. With her teeth in this state, it would only get worse.

“I know, I know, Melody.” Jinbe cooed, taking them to the washroom so she could rinse out her mouth with salt water. The last thing she needed was an infection on top of all of this. While she was tearfully gargling the water, Jinbe briskly cleaned himself off, removing his yukata and putting it with the wash. “We’ll see about taking you to the dentist when we reach Fishman Island. There has to be someone who can help there. In the meantime… liquid diet, I’m afraid. Hey, maybe we have one of those silly straws lying around?” Jinbe suggested with a frail smile, trying to cheer her up as she openly drooled the venom down the sink.

It was thinning out now, at least. No longer the thick, viscous, glowing liquid.

Melody needed more fluids anyway. Stock was easy enough to make… Jinbe frowned, wondering if they’d need to add poison to it or if a lack would help keep her production down until her teeth can be addressed. It can’t be good to swallow that all the time. But unfortunately this was a very unique biological problem none of them were sure of.

They still weren’t sure what kind of fishman she was. It was entirely possible that she didn’t need to produce venom and it’s just a byproduct. But it was equally possible that now that she has, she couldn’t stop.

For a moment, Jinbe resented Arlong so much it burned. If that stubborn bastard had just stayed put, this wouldn’t be an issue. Melody… she was too young to understand why she shouldn’t do certain things that made her feel better. Biting—such a common shark instinct—was in many ways, a language of it’s own. Jinbe himself had issues teething when he was young, though not nearly as much as his other shark-inclined brothers. Arlong could have walked her through teething in a more healthy way. Communicating her needs without accidentally killing someone with her venom.

All they could do, was their best, really.

And it burned Jinbe that he didn’t know if it would be enough.

But it would have to be. He could never face Arlong—or Fisher Tiger—if he failed to care for Melody when she needed him most.

--*--

Hody Jones was born into the filthy slums of Fishman Island and feared more than anything that he would die in it.

Die caked in the refuse created the misery humanity generated without thought elsewhere, cast over their shoulder into the shadows.

Unimportant.

Forgotten.

Ground to a pulp under the heel of a filthy human’s boot where they should consider themselves lucky to even see.

When he heard of Fisher Tiger, he felt inspired.

Now there was a man who knew what needed to be done. Had the balls to climb those lofty, gilded peaks and shake the filthy humans down from up high. And many rightfully joined his crew—though not Hody Jones, who was too young to be properly brought aboard. Arlong, a man of great strength and value, happened to step off the island onto that ship of opportunity. And Hody couldn’t wait to join him and the others.

But Hody Jones would never get the chance.

Killed.

Murdered.

Fisher Tiger was dead and the crew fell apart.

Hody never felt such resentment in his life to have missed such an opportunity.

Arlong, the man Hody so looked up to, took up that mantle in Fisher Tiger’s name. Leaving behind almost half the crew and Jinbe…

And that mutt of a daughter.

Hody’s lip curled in intrigue and disgust.

A half-breed? Really, Arlong?

If it wasn’t for Arlong pursuing those worthless humans in the name of justice, Hody would have thought he had gone soft. There must have been something to the mutt, for such a great man to see value in dirty blood. Hody had only seen her on occasion, Arlong’s brief visits never bringing her to the slums.

Hody felt… conflicted about that. On the one hand, he understood.

The slums were unkind to anyone. Let alone half-breeds, rare as they were.

But on the other… did Arlong view this mutt as better than this place?

How? With such filth in her blood, how could Arlong think such thoughts?

And here she was again, this time carried by Jinbe.

Even from a distance, Hody could see how the small girl’s lips were pressed into a wobbly line, eyes tearful.

Good. She knows something of the value they’d all lost at least.

Hody listened close to see why Jinbe had returned rather than raze the humans alongside Arlong—though he knew Jinbe had always been softer than his counterpart.

The mutt had taken Fisher Tiger’s passing hard, and the leave of her ‘father’ harder still. Her teeth were messed up and no one was willing to risk the venom to pull them out. Hody Jones frowned, rubbing his own jaw thoughtfully.

Must be those weak human genes. A proper shark would have shed them by now. She probably just needed a good knock across the face to loosen them. Of course, given Jinbe’s well known softness and his size, the man had neglected to do so already. He likely wouldn’t take the suggestion well either, not that Hody felt he was close enough to the man to advise such a thing.

Arlong, perhaps. If he hadn’t thought of it already. But Jinbe? No.

Even if it pissed Hody off to see the mutt weeping so incessantly, it was hardly his place to assist or advise. Some suffering would do the welp good anyway. Toughen up that weak, tainted blood. At least she didn’t look too human. Had that going for her at least. Muddy gray skin splotched with pink from her weeping about the best indication Hody could see without getting any closer what a mutt she was.

If Hody had to be around it for any real length of time though, he made no promises to not fix the issue himself. It wouldn’t even be hard—likely harder to not break that weak jaw than anything else.

--*--

It would be a stretch to say that Whitebeard’s crew was wholeheartedly welcome at Fishman Island. Their captain was good friends with King Neptune at this point, so they could dock with little issue. But they were to behave themselves. Any trouble would see them scrubbing toilets for a year using their own toothbrush. Or worse.

Thatch, having recently been promoted to sous-chef under the aging commander of the fourth division, was having a blast.

Fishman Island was a unique place with more fishman and mermaids than you could shake a stick at! He was behaving though! He barely even drooled at all the lovely mermaids he saw working and living their daily lives. Certain that, while used to human men ogling them, they’d not be terribly receptive to any attempt on his part to charm them. Marco ambling alongside him like it was nothing, the two of them looking for a place to sample the local cuisine.

Naturally, they stopped at a mermaid café, but it was clearly popular so it totally wasn’t because the waitresses were all mermaids!

Thatch would deny it until his dying day that his heart stuttered at the lovely, smiling faces that greeted them. So sue him! He loves his family, but they’re not beautiful mermaid women, now are they? Half of them can’t seem to master washing their own ass, it’s no wonder they needed an hour long lecture from Marco to behave.

Thatch also kindly ignored the implication of Marco specifically going with him over anyone else.

The café was bustling though, quickly drawing Thatch’s attention away from the beautiful women. Nearly every table was occupied, the waitresses shuffling back and forth with food and drinks to keep up with demand. The hostess smiled, dark eyes only just betraying what a long day it had been and Thatch felt a little ashamed at his momentary gawking. At least he didn’t make a complete ass of himself.

“Table for two, please.” Marco smiled brightly, holding up his hand in greeting. Thatch reflexively smiled as well, taking in the delicious smell of what seemed to be soup. Perhaps the special of the day? He couldn’t wait to try it!

The woman, glanced down at her podium and frowned, marker hovering over what must have been the seating chart. Crescent shaped shark tail swaying with a hint of anxiety before she looked up at them.

“I can seat you two now but… perhaps you’d prefer to wait another fifteen minutes for a different table?” She asked softly, her voice sad as she glanced over her shoulder to what appeared to be the only open area.

There was a corner booth and the surrounding two booths and table were empty. In the corner booth was a small child in a booster seat, head buried in their arms with fluffy white hair jerking. Clearly, they were crying. Paper and crayons scattered in front of them with a neglected cup near their elbow. Thatch frowned, heart aching for the poor kid.

He understood why the tables were empty, though not why the kid was crying for so long the busy café effectively bubbled them in isolation.

“Aw, are they okay?” Thatch came closer to the hostess and asked with concern, keeping his voice down. The mermaid sighed.

“That’s Melody. My niece. She’s… having a hard time right now.” She looked at them, gaze lingering on Marco’s tattoo openly displayed before she relaxed. “Fisher Tiger was her uncle… my foolish brother went to take revenge and left Melody with Jinbe. There’s something wrong with her teeth but no dentist will see her so he’s out trying to find someone that will.” Thatch felt his face fall.

Oh, the poor kid. Thatch could remember having a toothache when he was young and couldn’t understand how his whole face hurt that much from just a little bit of bone.

“Why won’t they see her?” Marco asked, ever the doctor even when he was out of the med bay. The hostess squirmed, uncomfortable and upset.

“Mostly, it’s because she’s… half. But it’s also dangerous… look, do you want to wait or not?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject while they reeled that the kid was half human. “It’ll be about fifteen minutes before another table is empty.”

“Can we sit with her?” Thatch asked gently. “Maybe we can’t do anything about her teeth, but some company might be nice while you’re busy.”

Sure, they weren’t really that skilled in taking care of kids, but there was no way they could wait around while one was crying her eyes out. They weren’t monsters, like apparently all the dentists on the island were.

The hostess though, narrowed her eyes at them. Weighing them individually until she looked back one last time to the poor kid. She snatched up two menus and jerked her head for them to follow.

When she got to the table, she leaned over and brushed aside the girl’s hair, nearly whispering.

“Hey, pup. Would you like company while I work? These two are Whitebeard Pirates, they’re friends of King Neptune.” Thatch looked over at the half finished drawings. Vaguely recognizing the waitress by her crescent tail. There was a few of what may be a man with a jagged nose he also faintly recognized, accompanied by a caricature of the kid in question and a big, blue ball in a robe.

There was a red man with black hair scribbled over harshly, paper scrunched up into nearly a ball that, given the context, may very well be the poor girl’s uncle.

The girl sniffled, lifting her head to look at them curiously. Gray skin a ruddy red with the brightest ruby eyes he’d ever seen between thick clumps of bangs tipped black like her fingers. Her face was a mess of snot and tears, lips seeming to glow blue as the hostess sighed, pulling out a rag and tenderly wiping her face.

Thatch crouched down, resting his chin on his arms.

“Hey, sweetie. You don’t mind a few pirates joining your table, do you?” Thatch asked softly. She sniffled, looking at his hair curiously.

“…does it grow like that?” she asked hoarsely and Thatch grinned, hearing Marco snort.

“Nah! I—”

“He spends a whole hour fixing his hair like that. Preens all day to make sure it stays in place.” Marco cut him off in amusement. Thatch squawked in protest but the kid giggled, voice watery.

“They’re funny. Like Hat-cha, can they stay, Auntie Shar?” she asked quietly. The woman in question sighed, brushing a hand through the kid’s hair.

“You sure?” she nodded.

“Eating alone isn’t as fun.”

Now that was a sentiment Thatch could get behind.

The hostess gave them a stern look but slid the menus on the opposite side of the booth.

“You’re waitress will be here shortly.” It sounded like a threat.

Probably was.

Thatch could feel eyes on his back as he slid against the wall and picked up the menu.

“I’m Thatch, and this goof is Marco… got any recommendations?” Thatch asked with a charming smile, the kid still crying softly despite her mood clearly lifting with the company.

“The soup is good but ah have ta have clear. Can’t chew right now with my teeth broke. It hurts but auntie lets me drink it with a silly straw.” She informed them with a crooked smile. Thatch nearly winced when he saw several teeth clearly broken. Strangely, bead of blue liquid pooling down the pearly whites. “’M sick too. It sucks.” She pouted.

Thatch’s heart really went out to the poor kid. Sick, dental problems, and mourning? Yikes.

Marco nodded though.

“Soup sounds good. Clear soup is good for you too. I’m sure you’ll get better in no time.” Marco affirmed gently, though he was definitely curious about why she was in a café rather than resting in bed somewhere. Or conked out on medicine until they resolved her teeth. Maybe she was too young to take anything?

Regardless, they mostly minded their business and ordered their food under the watchful eye of an eel-mermaid waitress. Thatch asking if he can draw with the kid while they waited. Thoughtfully, she agreed and offered to share her favorite colors with him if he wanted, which Thatch accepted with the gravitas of being offered kingship. For a toddler, it was about the same anyway.

Marco spent his time picking on Thatch for having worse coloring skills than a toddler—it was a good time.

Even if the food was shit, Thatch would have to say this was his favorite café meal so far.

Until they brought their food and Thatch nearly had a heart attack. The waitress sliding a bowl of nearly clear liquid in front of the kid. Bits of vegetables floating in the mixture, including mushrooms that were incredibly deadly. Deep red with a yellow stem sliced into thin strips, innocently twirling around the silly straw.

Before Thatch could toss the bowl away from the still crying little girl, a hand was shoved in front of his face. Bowl of soup offered to him—poisonous mushroom free.

“Her dietary requirements are a little… different.” The eel-mermaid explained with a look of understanding. “We don’t know what kind of shark she is, but whatever it is, they apparently eat poisonous things regularly. And produce venom—Shyarly spoke of issues getting a dentist? Well, one nick and they’d be risking their lives. Alongside her… heritage, well… it’s no wonder none are jumping to assist.”

“Ah, is that what that blue liquid is? Fascinating?” Marco commented blithely, easily accepting the wild information with intrigue. He looked thoughtful though. Perhaps wondering if his own devil fruit would be helpful.

But Marco was hardly a dentist and intervening without asking the kid’s guardians would go poorly.

Thatch could only imagine how well it would be taken if a grown man just stuck his hand into a toddler’s mouth and started plucking teeth. Thatch grimaced at the mental image and just ate his soup.

It was good. Savory and clearly well made.

He’d need to ask after the recipe! His family would love it!

#one piece #platonic yandere #a lone melody #one piece oc #one piece thatch #one piece marco #one piece hody jones #one piece jinbe

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