One Piece: Bloody scrap metal

Kid rolled his neck, relishing the satisfying crack as he stepped through the wreckage of the Steel Hounds' mansion. Smoke curled into the sky, and the metallic scent of blood was thick in the air. Bodies, of members, who stayed in the mansion and got caught up in their fight, were scattered like discarded trash. The few Steel Hounds left standing had already abandoned the battlefield, running for their miserable lives.

He paid them no mind. If they were too weak to fight, they weren't worth his time.

As he walked, his boots crunching over debris and shattered stones, a familiar figure came into view.

Killer.

His first mate approached with a relaxed stride, scythe blades still slick with fresh blood. His breathing remained steady, his movements casual, almost as if he had been out for a casual walk rather than participating in a gang war.

Kid arched a brow. 'Now what the hell is he up to?'

Killer stopped a few feet away, rolling his shoulders before giving Kid a once-over. "Still in one piece? What took you so long, slowpoke?"

Kid snorted. "What? You worried?" A smirk tugged at his lips. "Didn't see you take down that scrap mutt so who's the slowpoke?"

"Already did 4 years ago, remember?" Killer shot back, tilting his head. "Besides I only didn't wanna have to drag your half-dead carcass back if you got your ass kicked. Wasn't worried about you at all."

Kid's grin widened. "Hah! As if that bastard could've even scratched me." He flexed his fingers, the lingering energy of his electromagnetic arm crackling briefly before fading. "That scrap mutt got what was coming to him."

A dangerous gleam flashed through both their eyes. Their hatred for Stahlhund and his gang ran deep, deeper than for anyone else on the world, including Shanks.

"After eating my damned punk, that bastard is being grilled in hell."

"Hope he gets to suffer every last bit it has to offer, then." Killer muttered.

Yet he didn't move. His gaze drifted towards the ruins of the mansion.

Kid narrowed his eyes. "What, forgot to slaughter someone?" His characteristic smirk was showing . "Can't have you losing your touch."

Killer exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Shut up, slowpoke captain. There's something I need to grab before we leave."

Kid sneered. "From here? Couldn't be some manners, could it?"

Killer didn't dignify that statement with an answer, prompting his captain to cross his arms as he further investigated: "Don't tell me it's something sentimental."

Silence stretched between them. Then, Killer turned, already striding towards the rubble. "It's just something I don't wanna lose a second time."

Kid scoffed. "So, you did get soft."

His childhood friend ignored him again and kept walking. Rolling his eyes, Kid fell into step beside him. "Oi, at least tell me what it is."

"Since when do you care so much?"

"I don't? I'm just being nosy?"

Killer's lips twitched slightly. "You'll see when I get it back,"

Kid gave him a snarky side eye but didn't press further. If it was important enough for Killer to bother, then he could waste a few minutes with him.

They reached what was left of the mansion, more wreckage than structure. Killer picked his way through without hesitation, stopping in front of a half-buried metal chest. With a sharp yank he pulled it free, before carefully dusting it off.

Leaning against a crumbling wall, Kid tapped his foot impatiently. "That's it?"

Killer nodded. A beat of silence went by before Kid scoffed: "You're telling me you came back for a small metal box after I wrecked this whole damn place?"

Instead of directly answering he just turned and began walking off again. It became obvious that at this point he was just playing with Kid's curiosity, and it worked. His captain's eye twitched in annoyance as he thought 'That bastard is messing with me!'

"Unbelievable!" He threw up his hands. "You're like an old man clinging to junk!"

"Pot, meet kettle."

Banter carried them towards the rendezvous point where Heat and Wire should be waiting.

"You know what? Fine," Kid grumbled. "Keep your secret! We got more important matters to discuss anyways!"

"Like what?" Killer asked over his shoulder, absently fiddling with his box when suddenly-

*Click*

The lock popped open. Killer halted mid-step, fingers brushing against the chest's contents. Carefully he lifted it out, eying the weirdly shaped pear with wavy patterns in his hands.

Kid, about to walk past him, froze. Shock painted his expression no sooner than he laid his eyes on this particular fruit.

"… Oi, Killer. Don't tell me that's-" There was no need to finish his sentence. Both of them knew this fruit.

Memories crashed over Kid like an Aqua Laguna. He remembered. Years ago, when he and Killer had been nothing but dirty street rats, there had been a young orphan girl who, as headstrong as she was, had scraped by in junkyards, together with them.

Victoria

Fierce, quick to throw a punch, loyal to a fault. A girl who had shared her warmth, her food and her trust.

One day, long after Kid ate his devil fruit, the Girl found a weirdly shaped pear, looking exactly like the one Killer was holding in his hands. Back then he tried to warn her that it was a devil fruit, that it would rob her of the joy of swimming but having suffered from a time of hunger she bit into it without hesitation.

The past's grip over him wavered as he shoved those memories back where they belonged.

"… Is that Victoria's devil fruit?" Kid finally finished his question after regaining some sense.

"Originally…" Killer murmured. There was no trace of their previous teasing and banter as this was no joking matter for either of these two.

"Originally, I didn't learn of this until a lot later. When we set sail, we needed a lot of money to build our ship as quickly as possible. Heat handled most of it. Sold some treasure formerly belonging to the steel hounds gang. Said there was an auction on one of the neighboring islands before boarding a small ship."

His grip tightened around the fruit. "Turns out this was part of that treasure."

Kid's jaw clenched. "I remember." He cut him short, as he could pretty much imagine the rest of the story. He walked past Killer, as his first mate lingered, hesitating to do it.

"Killer… Victoria's fruit, the Soku Soku no Mi, suits you perfectly, doesn't it?" He didn't turn around, but his voice left no room for argument. "Eat it. Or I'll throw the damn thing into the ocean myself."

The message was clear: No one else gets to have it.

Silence stretched between them again before Killer let out a quiet breath. "Thank you, Kid."

A sharp click of the tongue was his response. "Don't thank me, asshole. Just eat it."

So, he did. Despite knowing what it meant, losing their funds, delaying their voyage, Killer bit into the fruit. It tasted like absolute shit, but he didn't flinch. He bit again. And again.

And then, just as Victoria had done all those years ago, he whispered a quiet prayer before swallowing the last piece.

"Thank you for the food."

-A short while later-

Arriving back to where they broke through the outer wall, the captain and his right-hand man found the chaotic situation from before already under control and about to be cleared up.

Atop a pile of corpses, Wire sat with one knee drawn up, casually flipping his red trident in one hand. His other hand rested on the hilt of a stolen sword, looted from one of the Steel Hounds' supposed elites. He didn't look particularly impressed.

A few feet away, Heat leaned against a shattered barricade, idly rolling a flickering flame across his knuckles. The dim firelight cast eerie shadows over his face, making his ever-present grin look sharper than usual.

The remnants of their gang, those who had fought and survived, stood scattered around the battlefield, catching their breath or picking through what little salvage remained. Among them, Heat's old goons proved to be especially efficient when it came to looting.

Kid cracked his knuckles as he and Killer approached, while looking stern and serious.

Wire glanced up. "Took you long enough. Thought you got lost in the rubble."

"Yeah, yeah," Kid waved him off. "Had some unfinished business."

Killer, for once, didn't add a remark. He was still carrying the empty metal chest, which draw a surprised and worried gaze from Heat, who probably recognized it already.

The crew's musician exhaled, letting his flame die out. "That chest wouldn't possibly be- No, never mind. Are, we done here?" For some reason He decided against bringing up the devil fruit.

Kid rolled his shoulders. "Almost. Clean up whatever mess is left and regroup at my old base tonight. We've got some things to discuss while we let the guys celebrate our victory."

Wire arched a brow. "Sounds serious."

Kid shot him a stern eye. "It might be."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving no room for argument. The others exchanged glances before following suit, the remnants of the battlefield fading behind them.

-Later that night, at Kid's base-

The dimly lit interior of Kid's base was as suffocating as ever, the air thick with the scent of rust and oil. The flickering light of a single lantern cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the faces of the crew as they gathered around the crude wooden table.

Kid sat at the head of a crude wooden table, arms folded, expression blank. Across from him, Wire leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of the table, while Heat sat cross-legged on a stack of crates, absently flicking a match between his fingers. Killer stood off to the side, not doing anything in particular.

The silence stretched, until Kid finally broke it.

"We're doing this again." He said matter of factly. "We're setting sail, rebuild the Kid Pirates from the ground up and conquer the damned Grand Line."

Wire scoffed, letting a smirk settle on his face. "That was obvious the second we crawled out of our graves."

Heat nodded, flicking the match into the air. "The real question is, how?"

Kid leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Let's get our members back first. They might not have regressed but if they are willing to join my ship a second time I'll gladly take them all in again."

Killer finally spoke. "And if they do remember but refuse to join a second time?"

Kid shrugged. "Honestly if they do remember I wouldn't be mad at them for not joining us again. After all I did lead us to death once, already."

The room fell deadly silent as Kid's words settled. It was an uncomfortable kind of silence, as none of them missed the rarely shown vulnerability of their captain.

Wire dropped his feet from the table, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. "Alright. That's still no plan but at least we got our first objective… kinda."

Heat flicked the match into the air, watching it spin before catching it again. "Tch. Never thought I'd have to go through this twice, but I can't say I hate the idea."

Killer said nothing, but his nod was all the confirmation Kid needed.

"Good," Kid said. "Because there's something else."

His gaze flicked to Killer, who returned the look.

"I told Killer to eat a devil fruit."

That got their attention. Wire straightened, Heat's flame flared just a little brighter, and Killer let out a slow breath.

Kid continued, "Originally, Heat sold it to fund our ship. Now? That's not happening." He leaned back. "That means our departure's getting pushed back by at least a year."

Wire ran a hand through his hair. "That's a hell of a setback."

Heat grinned. "Could be worse. At least we don't have to worry about the ship getting wrecked in battle this time."

Their captain smirked. "Exactly."

Killer, who had been mostly listening further inquired: "So, what's the plan for the next year then? I mean besides getting money."

Kid's grin returned, wider than before. "Simple. We train while we can. Our physical conditions are nowhere near what is was before the regression. And you especially will need the time to get familiar with your devil fruit powers."

His voice left no room for argument. Not that it was needed since all three of them had to admit that Kid was right. While their haki became a whole lot stronger, their physical condition worsened.

"One year-" Kid continued. "It might sound like a fairly long time but ultimately it's up to us to make good use of it." His 'evil' grin showed itself. "And when the right time comes we will set fire to the sea once more."