Natural Enemy 2-6

Steam.

Thick white clouds of the stuff rolled off Kai’s body in waves, so much fog filling the room as he stepped out of the shower. Mmmm.

The whole bathroom was dripping with the aftereffects of his show, water clinging to the tile like it didn’t want him to leave. The air had plenty evidence of his presence too, the steam heavy with the scent of cheap lavender soap that probably cost the inn maybe fifty beri a bar.

It might have been even cheaper but Kai didn’t care as long as it smelled like a five-star hotel to him. Kai stepped towards the tiny sink, a white towel — fluffy, actually fluffy for once — wrapped around his waist as he looked up at the foggy mirror. A smile on his face, the teenager swiped a hand across the glass, surface squeaking wetly under his palm.

Condensation dripped down, but it didn’t do much to hide the familiar face that stared right back in the single smear of near-clear glass.

Same messy twists almost all the way to loc’ing up, damp and heavy from his first proper shower in years, same too-big cheeks that Auntie Loa loved to pinch, same set of teeth that stayed white even without proper toothpaste in four years. Which was… weird.

Very weird, actually, but… 

Kai shook his head from side to side. Yeah, I’ll worry about that later.

He dressed up slow; one sock, two socks. He pulled on his shorts, the cut-off denim stiff and clean. Last was the clean white tee sliding over his head, the fabric smelling like soap instead of salt spray and the Grime Brothers freaky funk. His clothes had been taken care of by the innkeeper (for a small fee, of course), and for the first time in forever, he didn’t smell like sea salt, sweat, or blood. 

He picked up his backpack, the solid brick of weight in the bottom pocket that threw off the balance just enough to be noticeable. Three million Beri.

His haul from the Grime Brothers’ price tag. Secure the bag.

He patted the pocket with the pouch in it, the fresh bills crinkling inside like dried leaves. I’m so rich. Not that rich, but it was rich enough to pay for however much food he wanted.

Food… A gurgle filled the inn room, Kai blinking down at his stomach. Food.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Downstairs, the inn’s common room was empty as it was quiet, with the only thing filling up the place the dust motes cutting through the smoky air. The innkeeper, a short dense woman who looked like she grew up bent over, didn’t even look up as he stomped down the stairs.

Kai ordered eggs — three whole plates of the scrambled stuff — and sat his butt in the far corner, back to the wall. In no time at all, all three plates were brought over to his table and he was shoveling forkfuls of gold fluff into his mouth; the greasy, salty, buttery warmth perfect as it passed his lips and settled in his stomach.

As he gulped down his breakfast, he dug into his back pocket and pulled something free. The bounty poster was wrinkled and half-smeared from the water wildness of yesterday, but Kai didn’t even blink as he simply smoothed it out on the table.

Patch and Stench. 

The ugly, sketched faces of the Grime Brothers sneered up at him, faces frozen that way and not with the broken jaws he’d given at least one of them. All in black and white ink that didn’t show the grease coating Stench’s hair or the fear in Patch’s eye before the last punch that sent him to dreamland.

Kai reached down in his bag, a cheap scratch pen pulled free as he popped off the cap with his thumb. Ink bled a little onto the paper, spreading like a bruise as he drew a thick, black X over both brother’s faces. 

He stared at it for a moment, another bite of egg finding its way into his mouth. “One down.”

He swallowed.

“A whole lot more to go.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The water was high as the sun started to drift down past the peak, the hard crust of Port Town just baked dust packed tight underfoot. Dust was less of a problem for him as Kai sat on the edge of the pier, wood warm and rough under his butt as the waves splashed on the tip of his toes.

The orange gloss of the Naruto rippled in the reflection of the water just below him as it bobbed gently on the waves, the boat tugging at its rope like a dog ready for a walk. Soon, buddy, soon.

The stench of salt off the sea in front of him and smoke off the stacks of the town behind him filled his nose, but it was nothing compared to the funk of yesterday. 

Easy stuff to live with, in comparison. Alriiiight.

A sigh spilled out of his lips as he reached into the black leather backpack beside him. Fingers slid past the heavy pouch, easing past a couple still-full water bottles, until they finally brushed against the folded sheet of paper he was looking for.

The wind tried to snatch it from his fingers as he pulled it free and unfolded it, salty breeze snapping the corners, but Ken held on tight.

Barnacle Bill. 

There was no photo of the guy, just like the Grimes. For some reason, like a lot of these guys, it was just a sketch that stared back at him. And not a good sketch, even.

Or… well, it could be. I mean… Kai tilted his head to the side, tongue sticking out as he remembered the Grime Brothers poster. Could have sworn those were caricatures, but no…

His eyes slid back down to the poster in his hands. Still, it was hard to believe Barnacle Bill actually looked like an angry potato with a beard, a hat, a hook for a hand and a big ol’ scar over one eye.

Wow, a real cliché pirate, even down to the name. Kai snorted loud. Like a cartoon bad guy or something, brah.

But the number below the sketch wasn’t a cartoon number.

6,000,000 Beri.

Not at all.

If three million was enough to have him living the good life for at least a year with almost whatever he wanted, then six? 

Six would pretty much let him live like a king for half that time. And when you added three and six together, well… that was “don’t worry about anything” money for at least a year. Kai’s eyes slid up from the paper, a loose and easy grin on his face as he looked out at the open sea.

The horizon at the edge of the world stared back at him, the spot where the blue sea turned into a flat, endless line.

Somewhere out there, he clicked his tongue, a guy with a hook hand is doing something real messed up. Probably stealing candy from babies or burning down orphanages or kicking puppies.

He looked back at the potato-sketch. “Barnacle Bill.”

Just testing the name made it feel silly in his mouth.

But the money felt serious enough to make up for it.

“Sure,” Kai snorted out loud, folding the poster and shoving it back in the bag. “Why not? Let’s go find a potato.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The bar — the dull old place with the faded ‘Remy’s’ over the door — was still waiting for him as he walked in, the bell above the door dinging with a sound that made him feel like something was broken on the inside. What isn’t broken in this town, man?

His nose wrinkled at the exact same smell of yesterday, just as much stale beer, sawdust, and vomit slapping him in the face.

The old squinty bartender was wiping a glass — the same glass from last time, probably — as he looked up. That one good eye narrowed, then widened again, as he made eye contact with a smiling Kai. 

“You.” The rag squeaked to a stop as the barkeep grunted, thick streaks of grime on the inside of the glass that would probably never come off. The old man didn’t seem to care about that as he slammed the cup on the counter, both eyes firmly turned Kai’s way now. “Thought you’d be halfway to the next island by now. You’d be smart to take the money and run before the Marines make trouble for your kind.”

… your kind, huh? Whether the old man meant bounty hunters or people with powers, Kai didn’t know and didn’t feel like asking as he walked up to the bar still wearing a smile. He leaned up against the wood, hands still in the pockets of his shorts. “Yeahhhh.” Kai clicked his tongue, head tilted a little bit. “See, that was kinda the plan. Still is, honest. Don’t really want to stick around this place longer than I gotta. My skin’s already getting dry.”

“So go.” Old Remy — is he Remy? — jerked a thumb out the door. “Tide’s going out. Wind is good.”

“Can’t.” Kai’s answer came just as quick as Remy’s advice.

“Why? That toy boat of yours broken?”

Kai grinned, all bright-white thirty-twos on display as one hand came free from his pocket and five gold Beri coins landed on the counter. Each one of them spun, a blur of light in the dim room with ‘500’ stamped onto their faces, before slapping flat under his palm. “Because I need something.”

The bartender eyed the hand hiding the coins, tongue flicking out to wet his thin lips. “And what’s that?”

“I need information.” Kai slid the coins forward. “About a guy named Bill.”