"That's rude... who are you?" she asked.
Renji just stared at her. "What's up with those clothes you're wearing, huh?" he asked, annoyed.
Robin looked down at her breasts and then at Renji. Robin raised an eyebrow. "I dress for comfort and practicality, not to impress anyone."
"Though I'm more interested in how you managed to bypass our security."
"Why?" he asked.
...
"What do you mean by 'why?'?"
"I mean, 'why?'"
"It's not common to bypass our security; it's one of Alabasta's best," she said. "Who must you be to bypass a security like that?" she asked.
"What is this place?" he asked, completely ignoring her question.
Robin analyzed the young man before her. His messy appearance, the sword at his hip, the way he'd simply walked through their security as if it didn't exist, didn't add up to an ordinary intruder.
But more importantly, there were maps and documents on the table behind her. Sensitive ones.
The moment he'd opened that door, she'd already acted.
"Tres Fleur."
Three arms had bloomed silently on the table behind her back, quickly rolling up documents and sliding them into the cabinet. By the time Renji's eyes scanned the room, the table was nearly empty except for a few shipping manifests.
"This is a private office," she said evenly, positioning herself between him and the table. "For conducting legitimate casino business."
Renji walked further in, his eyes scanning what little remained visible. Basic stuff. Nothing incriminating.
"You work for Crocodile," he stated.
"I work for Rain Dinners," Robin corrected smoothly. "Mr. Crocodile owns this establishment. I manage operations. And you're trespassing."
"Tell me what he's really doing here."
"Running a casino. Maintaining his reputation as a Warlord. The same thing he does everywhere else." Robin's expression remained perfectly neutral. "Now, I'll ask again. Who are you, and how did you get past security?"
Renji didn't answer. He looked around the room and spotted the mostly empty huge table.
"You hid something," he said flatly. "When I walked in. You hid documents."
Robin's smile didn't waver. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Show me what you hid."
"I didn't hide anything."
"I said, show me."
"And I said no." Robin adjusted her glasses calmly. "You break into a private office, make demands, and expect cooperation? That's not how this works."
Renji stared at her for a long moment.
"You're just a secretary," he said quietly, convincing himself. "A woman who reads books and shuffles papers. You're not a threat."
Robin's instincts screamed danger, but she kept her composure. "Excuse me?"
"Sleep."
She collapsed, unconscious, before she hit the floor.
Renji stood over her for a moment, breathing slightly harder than before. That had taken more conviction than the guards. She'd almost resisted. Almost.
He turned to the filing cabinets.
"Open."
The locks clicked. Drawers slid out on their own.
Renji began pulling out documents. Maps of Alabasta with rebellion movements marked. Shipping manifests for weapons. Communications in code. References to "Baroque Works" and numbered agents.
And one document with one word written on its cover. Pluton.
Renji stared at the document with 'Pluton' written on the cover for a moment, then tossed it aside carelessly.
"None of my business," he muttered, rifling through more papers.
More maps. More coded communications. Agent rosters with numbers instead of names.
"So it is real," he said quietly, holding up a document listing agent assignments. "Baroque Works actually exists. Not just rumors."
Renji dropped the papers back on the table, uninterested in the details.
He'd confirmed what he came for. The organization existed. Crocodile was running it. That was enough.
He glanced at the woman's unconscious form on the floor.
"How long until you wake up?" he wondered aloud. "Five minutes? Ten?"
He should leave. He'd gotten what he needed.
He walked over to the filing cabinet he had commanded open.
"Lock," he said flatly.
The drawers slid shut simultaneously, and the internal mechanisms clicked, sealing the hidden documents inside.
He walked to the main table, gathered the few papers he'd pulled out, and simply dropped them back onto the surface, leaving the evidence for Robin to deal with upon waking.
As soon as he turned around, a group of hands grabbed his legs and tried to pull him down. He looked at Robin, who was sitting on the ground, sweating with her hands crossed above her chest.
"Is this a joke?" he asked. "What are you trying to do?"
"What did you do?!" she demanded.
"Me? I did nothing; you just slept on your own for some reason. I was here to keep you company," he replied.
...
"What?! Bullshit!" she shouted as more hands formed at Renji's throat, trying to strangle him to death.
"Ah, I see that you're outraged, but violence isn't the answer to everything. I think you should just let go," he suggested.
Robin's grip loosened suddenly; her will to hold was weakened.
"Thank you," he bowed, "Now, I'll leave."
Renji walked toward the door, but Robin's voice stopped him.
"Wait."
He paused, hand on the doorframe, not turning around.
"You saw the documents," Robin said, standing now, her composure returning despite the sweat on her brow. "You know about Baroque Works. About what we're doing here."
"So?"
"So you can't just leave." Her tone was matter-of-fact, not threatening. "You're a witness. A loose end."
Renji turned slightly, enough to see her from the corner of his eye. "Are you going to stop me?"
Robin studied him carefully. His ability had bypassed their security, forced her unconscious despite her resistance, and made her release her grip against her will. All with simple verbal commands.
A Devil Fruit user. Obviously. But the mechanics were unclear.
"I should," she said slowly. "But I'm not sure I could."
"You couldn't."
"Confident." Robin crossed her arms. "Tell me something. If you know about Baroque Works, about Mr. Crocodile's plans, what do you intend to do with that information?"
"Nothing."
Robin's eyebrow raised. "Nothing?"
"It's none of my business what happens to this country," Renji said flatly. "I just needed to confirm the organization existed. That's all."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to know if the rumors were true." He turned to face her fully now. He was lying; he was definitely going to kill Crocodile.
Robin tilted her head slightly. "Then you're just... leaving? With all that knowledge?"
"Yes."
"That seems unwise. For you, I mean." Robin adjusted her glasses. "Mr. Crocodile doesn't tolerate loose ends. When he finds out about this breach-"
"He won't."
"Won't what?"
"Find out." Renji looked at her directly. "You're not going to tell him."
Robin felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "And why wouldn't I?"
"Because I'm telling you not to."
"That's not how authority works," Robin said carefully, testing. "You can't just tell me what to do and expect-"
"Can't I?" Renji interrupted. "You already decided not to tell him. You just don't realize it yet."
Robin opened her mouth to argue, then stopped.
She thought back through the last few seconds. The calculation that reporting this would invite questions about why she couldn't stop him. The risk is that Crocodile would see this as a failure on her part.
She had been leaning toward not reporting it.
"You're playing mind games," Robin said quietly.
"Maybe." Renji shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You won't tell him."
He turned back to the door.
"Wait," Robin said again. "At least tell me your name. I should know who broke into our most secure location."
Renji paused in the doorway.
"Renji," he said without looking back. "Just Renji."
"No epithet? No crew? No bounty?"
"Well, no one remembers the shit that I did do, and there's no evidence of it, so yeah, no bounty."
"How convenient for you," Robin said dryly. "A ghost who leaves no trace."
"Something like that." Renji glanced back at her one more time. "You're smart enough to survive this long. Stay smart. Don't mention me."
"Or what? You'll command me to forget?"
Renji was quiet for a moment, considering. "Could I do that?" he wondered aloud, more to himself than to her. "Command someone to forget... I've never tried."
"Don't," she said sharply.
"Why not? It would be easier for both of us."
Renji stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable crossing his face. He was thinking about something.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess you're right about that."
He turned to leave again.
"Goodbye, Robin," he said, using her name despite her never having given it. He must have seen it on one of the documents.
Then he walked through the door and disappeared.
Robin stood alone in the office for several minutes, processing what had just happened.
Then she began putting everything back in perfect order, erasing any evidence of the intrusion.
When Crocodile asked her tomorrow about anything unusual, she would tell him the night had been quiet.
Not because Renji had commanded her to.
But because instinct told her that getting Crocodile involved with whatever that young man was would create complications they didn't need.
Some loose ends were better left untied.
Renji walked through the casino floor without incident.
The street outside was quieter now, most of the evening crowd having dispersed. A few drunks stumbled between taverns. A merchant closed up his stall for the night.
And near the entrance, a small group of children crowded together, playing some game with pebbles and sticks.
Renji started walking toward the docks, but stopped.
One of the children, a little girl with messy dark hair, was laughing at something one of the others said.
Genuine, sweet-sounding laughter.
Renji stood there, watching them for a moment longer than he should have.
The girl looked up, noticed him staring, and waved.
Something twisted in his chest.
He should keep walking.
Instead, he found his feet carrying him toward them.
"You hungry?" he asked.
The children exchanged glances, suddenly wary. They'd learned to be suspicious of adults offering things. Smart.
"We're okay," the girl said carefully.
"I didn't ask if you were okay. I asked if you were hungry."
Silence.
Then, quietly, another child, a smaller boy, nodded.
Renji looked down the street toward where he'd seen a food vendor earlier. Still open, somehow, despite the late hour.
"Come on," he said, walking in that direction.
The children hesitated, then followed at a distance, whispering among themselves.
Renji stopped at the vendor's cart. An old man looked up, tired eyes registering another customer.
"How much for everything?" Renji asked.
"Everything?"
"Everything you have left. All of it."
The vendor blinked. "That's... that would be about three thousand berries worth-"
"Here." Renji pulled out a small pouch and dropped it on the counter. Far more than three thousand berries. "Give them whatever they want. The rest is yours."
The old man's eyes widened. "Sir, this is too much-"
"Keep it," Renji said flatly. Then, to the children who had crept closer: "Eat."
They didn't need to be told twice.
The children swarmed the cart, pointing at skewered meats, fried dough, and rice balls. The vendor, still stunned, began handing out food with shaking hands.
Renji watched them eat with the desperate enthusiasm of people who didn't know when their next meal would come. The little girl with messy hair bit into a rice ball like it were the most precious thing in the world.
She looked up at him, mouth full, and smiled.
Something twisted in Renji's chest.
"Mister?" The girl swallowed her bite. "Aren't you gonna eat?"
"I'm not hungry," Renji lied.
"You should eat anyway," she insisted. "Food is important."
"She's right, you know," the toothless boy added, holding up a skewer. "You look skinny."
Renji's mouth twitched slightly.
"I'll eat later."
The girl studied him for a moment, then carefully broke her rice ball in half. She held out one piece toward him.
"Here. We can share."
Renji stared at the offered half of a rice ball. This child, who probably didn't know where her next meal would come from, who slept in an alley behind a market, was trying to share her food with him.
"Keep it," he said quietly. "It's yours."
"But sharing is nice," she said simply. "Mama used to say sharing makes food taste better."
Used to.
Past tense.
"Your mother was right," Renji said. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. "But I'm fine. You eat it."
The girl considered this, then shrugged and popped the rest of the rice ball in her mouth.
The children ate until they couldn't eat anymore, then sat in a satisfied cluster, talking and laughing among themselves. The vendor had packed up the remaining food in a bundle, which the kids would take with them for tomorrow.
"Thank you, mister!" the toothless boy called out.
"Yeah, thank you!" the others chorused.
Renji just nodded.
He should leave. He'd wasted enough time. He had a boat to catch, places to be, delusions to maintain.
But he found himself still standing there, watching them.
"Mister?" The dark-haired girl approached him again. "What's your name?"
"Renji."
"I'm Mina," she said. Then, with the absolute confidence of childhood: "You're nice."
"I'm not."
"You gave us food. That's nice."
"That's just food. Doesn't make me nice."
"Why did you give it to us then?"
Renji didn't have an answer for that. Or rather, he had an answer he didn't want to say out loud.
Because you reminded me of someone dead.
"Because I had extra money," he said instead.
Mina didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out something small. A flower, slightly wilted, that she must have found somewhere.
"Here," she said, holding it out. "For you."
"I don't need-"
"It's a present," Mina insisted. "Mama said when someone does something nice, you give them a present back. I don't have much, but you can have this."
Renji looked at the wilted flower in her small, dirty hand.
He could command her to keep it.
Instead, he reached out and took the flower.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
--------------------------------------------