introspective

Sengoku was generally a patient and calm man. At least he'd like to think so. And considering his reputation it was not all that far-fetched.

But since he was also only just a man, his patience had its limits. Contrary to what some of his subordinates may actually believe and the image he portrayed whenever he used his devil fruit powers to turn himself into a buddha, he was actually acutely aware of the fact that he was far from being even slightly as patient as the actual buddha was said to have been.

Still, he still considered himself rather patient, all things considered. And only very few things managed to crack the calm veneer he displayed these days, with most of them of such epic proportions that he had never been called out on losing his cool when confronted with said situations instead of retaining his persona as 'the buddha' as he was sometimes called.

Unfortunately for those around him, most of which were his subordinates, today was a day on which Sengoku's patience had been tried again and again, slowly chipping away at his calm persona until all that remained of it was a very thin mask he wore for nothing else but his own ego's satisfaction of not yet having cracked under all those accursed news that flew in through the windows seemingly every second as if in accord to some unwritten rule he was unfortunately unaware of.

With that calm mask plastered on his face, with a smile that never reached his eyes displayed proudly on his aging face, glad at that moment that his friend Garp wasn't around right now as he would have been able to spot his lie in only the fraction of a second, he strode purposefully through the wide corridors on the upper floors of the marine headquarters, reserved for only those of the highest positions and most authority inside the marine base, already dreading on the inside what news would await him next once he would enter the slowly approaching conference room.

Still, the turmoil warring on his inside was something that could not be completely hidden, even though he was still sporting that calm mask of his, betrayed by his flickering and irritated spirit that yearned for release so badly he struggled persistently to not just give in and vent that temper of his.

Luckily though, his subordinates seemed to have sensed his boiling temper immediately and quickly left him alone to his musings, as he was normally updated on current happenings whenever he was on his way to one of the countless meetings held each day within the marine headquarters like clockwork.

And he was glad that none of his subordinates were there at the moment, as his spirit, despite being held under an iron tight leash, still flickered occasionally onto the outside and cracked the occasional wall or lamp that was unfortunate enough to cross his path, which only annoyed him further as he was old and experienced enough that he should have a better control over himself right then and there. Still, it happened and he was too bothered anyway to really care about some object or another randomly destroyed or damaged for his carelessness.

With a tightly controlled breath, Sengoku finally reached the conference room and swiftly pushed open the double oaken doors before he could think on it differently and instead go and have a nice cup of tea somewhere where he would not be bothered by all the shit that was flung constantly all over the oceans.

At his entry all personal stood at attention immediately, but was just as quickly signalled to sit back down by Sengoku who didn't really care much anymore for all the military ceremony when it came to people he had worked alongside for years by now, many of which he even considered friends for that matter.

In the past he would not have been as easy going but considering he was getting on in his age and calmer in general, not this day though really, his stickling for rules and adherence to authority had dimmed quite a bit. A point that reminded him every time that maybe he really was ready for retirement. But first he would have to keep on going, considering it was still a hot debate who would become his successor, even though he knew deep down whom he would chose personally.

"Alright, lay it on me. What happened this time." Sengoku began, after taking his place at the head of the large conference table, looking eerily calm to the outside but he knew that he was fooling nobody in the room with his display of outwards calmness. After all, those gathered on this level of the marine headquarters had reached a level in strength where they could easily bypass an outwards façade such as the one displayed by him right then and there, no matter if it was Sengoku or the lowest of the lowest grunts stationed in the marine headquarters. It mattered not.

"Well" began vice-admiral Momonga, a collected and strategic man in Sengoku's opinion, "I think it is safe to say by now that we will be at war soon." Stopping shortly after dropping that bomb on them all, who had estimated as much already, but hearing their thoughts confirmed still did something to them all. Nothing good at that.

Shortly after, Momonga continued, and Sengoku wished the man hadn't, as his façade finally crumbled completely.

"Our contacts in the new world have relayed to us that Whitebeard is by now amassing his armada and clearly preparing for an all-out war against us. To prepare ourselves, we have begun to issue orders to all the Marine outposts not requiring absolutely necessary troops to send back to our headquarters, alongside the best equipment they can spare.

Besides our ground troops, we have also begun to muster our elite troops, which unfortunately also involve the Shichibukai. And considering the mass of news some of our 'employees' would receive, alongside their summons to gather at the headquarters, we saw fit to send Bartolomeo Kuma out in order to relay our message to Gecko Moria, who has been very reclusive in recent times. None of the two has returned by now. And considering Kuma is able to travel wherever he wants with little effort in no time at all, I think it is safe to assume that he will not return to us. We still will have to confirm this theory of ours, obviously, but our tacticians and field commanders are pretty sure of themselves concerning this matter."

Immediately after Momonga had finished speaking, Sengoku finally snapped and a practical onslaught of Sengoku's spirit crashed upon the walls of the conference room like waves upon a stony shore, not sparring its occupants in the slightest, who all stiffened in practised ease to weather the storm as they say.

With a slight snarl to his lips, Sengoku took a steadying breath before he reigned in his temper once again, slightly embarrassed at his slip in temper but also glad that he had finally been able to let loose a little bit, while dead silence reigned in the room for a couple of seconds, before his old time friend Tsuru took a rather audible bite out of one of her rice crackers, splintering the tense silence in only a moment through it.

"Relay to one of the ships returning from water 7 to make a stop at Moria's last known location, so that we can get confirmation of those theories. Luckily, we have a new Shichibukai already, stepping up for Crocodile, but should those theories proof to be accurate, we will be down one if not two of our heavy hitters. A hard blow to our defences no doubt. I'll think of something to remedy that, but I have little hopes of finding a replacement all that quickly." Sengoku finished, and it was clear from his tone of voice that he was done with that topic for now.

Thus, the other occupants began to build a general outlay for the future war they would soon have to deal with.

////

A couple of days had passed by now since the large fight upon the Thriller Bark between the various parties, and all those involved were by now treating either their wounds, their fallen or their bruised egos in some cases, while others were still unconscious from straining their bodies too much.

Even so, the different parties had quickly parted ways, after celebrating a slightly muted party amongst themselves, forging bonds between former strangers now slightly closer friends, now setting sail once again to reach their next destination on their journey.

Amongst them all was Daz, who had spent much of the time the last few days finishing the bloody sculpture for Nami and Robin, while also enjoying some relaxation with the munchkin, who he had to his shame, left behind on the ship in order to explore the Thriller Bark.

In his defence, Daz had been restless and eager to find something to find, but he still couldn't help himself but feel a little ashamed of his hypocrisy.

After all, he had found in the munchkin somebody who made him feel a little bit more like a human being, just like he had felt right before he had entered the Cipher Pol ranks, and not like the callous blade he practically embodied most of the time.

Which was somewhat ironic, considering he had never been much of a children's person, not even in his former life, a time which was nothing but a blur to him by now after all the shit he had been through in this life. But he found that he didn't really care honestly. After all, it did nothing for him remembering those days, as he was here now and would never return after all.

He had thought much on why he cared so much for the munchkin, if he could even still consider his muted emotions caring mind you, and he had come to the conclusion that the munchkin reminded him a lot of how he had been when he was still very young.

She was kind, considerate and retained her positive disposition despite all the shit she had experienced in her short life until now, and at time when Daz was watching her go about her day an image of his younger self seemingly converged over the munchkin's, but disappeared as soon as he would blink.

It had unsettled him at first, a new experience for a man such as Daz, who had more or less assumed the physical and spiritual shape of a blade over the years, ruthless, uncaring and impartial to whom he would kill, simply following his nature. A nature he wasn't sure was complimented by his devil fruit or was just of his own making. After all, it became hard to differentiate between a blade and the hand wielding the blade if the hand was actually becoming the blade.

He had often mused over the question on whether or not his devil fruit was influencing the way he was thinking and acting but could never really confirm his actions, as he was kind of biased on the whole matter. It was too personal for him, and it bothered him quite a bit occasionally.

Now though, when he saw his image overlaid over the munchkin's he realised that he truly and utterly was becoming a blade. Unfeeling and uncaring for anything in the world. And the last shreds of his formerly kind and gentle nature fought fiercely inside of him to retain their shape with every passing second of the day.

And that, Daz had realised, was pretty much the biggest reason of why he had helped the munchkin back than in Marie Geoise and taken her with him, caring for her well-being all those days since their escape and even went so far as to try and reunite her with her family back on the Archipelago.

She, in all her innocent and gentle nature, helped those fragmented pieces of his former self to stay alive and regain some of their vigour. And when he introspected a little, sinking into a state of self-reflective meditation, like he had done in the past, he realised that he actually yearned for that dredge of humanity still buried and fighting in the recesses of his soul.

A last struggle to stay alive perhaps, when it came to his humanity. And who knows? Maybe he could really throw of all the deadening conditioning his tutelage had installed inside of him, only strengthened by his devil fruit powers no doubt, and return to being more of a human being in the future?

At least he could try to do so. After all, despite all the shit humans caused all over the world, he was now sure, surer than he had been before, while watching the munchkin clumsily finger paint a rather horrific picture of a fat demon with horns, that being more human like would not be so bad. In fact, he would probably enjoy it quite a lot.