Chapter Text
The view from the balcony was always beautiful. The sun hitting the sky from behind the clouds, the birds soaring along the blue above, and the soft sway of the leaves against the breeze, it all soothed the migraine in your head from the loud machinery you worked with down in the shop. The project was another "request" from your father: a bigger, upgraded model of a motorcycle that you had created years ago for a private, but very important client.
Syrup Village wasn't huge in any capacity, though the social diversity was more than apparent.
You belonged to the high end of the population- blessed, or perhaps cursed by your wealth. Your parents taught you from the young age of two what machinery parts were, where they went, what they were used for, all before you could even talk. But that was a long time ago. This is now.
Your hands rested along the balcony railing, fingers interlocked as they rested from the tireless work. Surprisingly, they weren't as calloused as others would expect; the rough skin just toughened from work, gloves sparing them as you worked. The dark curls along your shoulders blew like the leaves of the tree near your window and your eyes closed to enjoy the tranquility for a moment.
"Hey, Taru!" Oh, it was him. A small smile twitched on your lips, your eyes opening softly to your strange little friend, Usopp. "Working on another fancy machine? I saw the smoke coming from the workshop earlier!" The lanky teen waved from below, his opposite arm hooked over your estate's gate as he climbed over. You had to suppress a laugh when he nearly faceplanted in the garden.
"Hey, weirdo," you peer down, watching the quick recovery Usopp had. He was quite the character around here. Much more fun than your house staff.
In a few minutes, he'd climbed up the tree beside the balcony, much like how the boy would with the other girl nearby, Miss Kaya. She was a sweet girl, just a bit quiet from what you knew.
As you look up to the branch he sat upon, you loosely point with two grease-coated fingers at it. "Aren't you a bit high up?"
"I'm not high up at all. This is just-" the dark skin boy grunts, adjusting along the branch to sit comfortably. You always picked up on how worn out his brown overalls were, a nasty habit from the teachings your parents gave. "-advanced tree-sitting. Besides, I had to see what my favorite mechanic was doing today." Your eyes rolled, but still, you leaned closer to him against the railing.
"I brought something cool to show you!" Usopp reached into his pocket, pulling out a small.. something from inside. You couldn't tell what it was from how he held it. It lost your attention to the low creak of the branch below him anyway. An eyebrow rose on your face as he tried to play it off by adjusting again.
"Favorite, huh? Aren't I the only mechanic you know on this side of the village?" The smile on your lips turns into a smirk, your hands moving to grab a cloth from your back pocket. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" The cloudy white cloth slowly turns greyer from the grease it cleans away.
"Well, I know of other mechanics," he tried to divert the questions, his cheeks slightly heating up for being called out on his lie. "But none are as talented as you! And there's no lie in that- I swear on my honor as a pirate!" Oh, there it was, that fib he told everyone in the village. He was the captain of the "Usopp Pirates"- a little gang of children that looked up to him, if you remembered right.
Another creak of the branch pulls you both away from the conversation, dark hands holding onto it tighter as hazel eyes meet your worried ones.
"Hey, don't worry about me falling. I've been climbing trees since I was a kid." He tried to sound reassuring, but a flash of concern crossed his eyes as yet another creak left the branch. With a quick glance higher, you shift to lean your back against the railing while pulling a rag from your pocket to clean your hands with.
"There's a sturdier branch right above you," you murmur, freeing your skin of the sticky grease. "Just a thought."
The wannabe pirate took the advice, his lanky arms reaching up to the branch higher. He climbs up onto it and gives an appreciative nod. "Thanks for looking out for me. You always watch out for me, even when you act like you don't care." He wrung his hands together a bit nervously, though it was masked by the question he shot off next.
"So.. about that project," long-nose started, your eyes focused on the dirt and grease beneath your nails. "Is it another motorcycle? Or maybe something more exciting this time?"
"No," your head lightly shook, "it's another motorcycle. A bigger one this time." The rag in your hands had mostly done the job it was meant for, returning to your pocket to be tossed into the dirty hamper later.
"Bigger?" Usopp beamed with excited curiosity, his legs firm against the branch as he gestured with his hands. "That's amazing! You're going to make it go super fast, aren't you? I bet I could help!" As he continued to speak, your eyes and ears stayed discreetly alert on whether or not the house staff were around to see the boy in the tree. You slightly tune out his rambling as you thought you heard one of the butlers' shined shoes against the floor. Surely you misheard..
"-though I almost burned off my eyebrows last time.." You heard him chuckle nervously, then hummed a bit as your arms loosely crossed under your chest.
"Hey, weirdo," your head lowers as you start to warn him. Your curls felt like a curtain to the outside world as you sighed. "You'll get caught out here if you stick around."
"That poor boy."
"Are you fraternizing with that poor boy again?" Your father grumbled out from over his teacup, his eyes on the newspaper in his opposite hand. He hadn't seen the village liar with his own eyes, but his reputation was much bigger than what you'd expect anyway.
"No, sir," you swallow down fear, the dread of the lie being worse than any burn you had received down in your workshop. "I would never go behind your authority."
Of course, this was what the old man wanted to hear, the truth being that the scrawny boy had stopped by to tell you a harmless story about a goldfish or other.
"I would hate to find out that the only child of mine has directly disobeyed a simple request from me." The man spoke and took a sip of tea in between. "It is for your own good, girl. That boy will only drag you down in this life. Don't forget how fortunate our family name is for us- for you. How fortunate your future husband will be."
"Yes, father."
"You know," the teacup was set on the coffee table between you both, the porcelain lightly tnk-ing against the saucer. It was calm only in appearance as the newspaper crinkled in the man's grip. "I heard that boy wakes up at the crack of dawn- every day, it seems- and screams about pirates arriving at the village until the sun comes up." A dark chuckle, "Isn't that the most preposterous thing you've ever heard? A boy wasting his life to cry wolf."
Sure, you knew he did that, but it wasn't hurting anyone in the village...
"Honestly. He's a fool and will learn the place of a fool in this world." Your father shook his head, a disapproving and expectant look in his eyes when they met yours. "Beneath the boots of the wealthy."
"A fool."
"I know, I know..." Usopp softened up, hazel eyes lighter against the afternoon sun. "I just want to spend some time with you. It's been days since I've seen you." The boy admitted, his pride and performing gave way to gentle sincerity. "Besides, your parents are at a fancy party downtown. I checked."
"Usopp," your ankles cross, your position against the railing a mix of comfortable and on edge. "You really should go." Your gaze shifts to your offset knuckles, the dull ache a reminder of what Father had warned you about.
"The wrench.."
The workshop was sweltering as a hammer was brought to metal over and over. The steel took shape beneath skilled hands- yours, to be exact- as sweat beaded along your brow. It was only a few more well-placed smacks, and you'd have the sheet formed to the shape you desired. You had heard the news about Miss Kaya across the way being ill suddenly, your father being one of the benefactors to the girl's recovery of health.
"I need you to make something. Something delicate and womanly. A statue, perhaps." Father instructed you earlier that week. "For the young lady a few homes down. She's come down with something tragic, and I want to gift her something from our family. You'll think of something, won't you?" Who were you to tell the man no?
So here you were, the man-made material being formed into the imitation of life. A flower, delicate and dainty despite the steel it was made from. That is, until Father came down on the day it was nearly finished, all the petals and internal pieces made nearby. It was close to done, just needing assembly.
"Taru," you recognized that tone. Something upset your father. Something very bad, as he had discarded his suit jacket and gloves somewhere outside the workshop.
"Yes, sir?" You reply lowly, your hammer put down nearby as you discard the leather gloves protecting your hands. The man- that man had come closer, his eyes full of ire as he reached you.
"That brat, Kaya," he started, polished dress shoes clicking along the stone floor as he paced, "she was talking to the town fool today. They were laughing and carrying on as if they were friends." The word dripped with venom, and your heart sank. So this was about Usopp-
"I don't want to give her anything if that is the company she keeps."
But all of your hard work.. The days and nights you spent in this boiling room.. wasted?
"Excuse me?" He stopped pacing, the anger directed somewhere you never wished for. Toward you. "I don't care if you worked your fingers to the bone. Speak back to me again, and you will understand what wasted potential truly is." You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes glued to the stone below.
"He..." you start, unable to meet your father's fiery gaze. "he isn't bad. He's quite funny, actually. Maybe if you gave him a chance-"
Your ears ring as your head forcibly turned to the right, your cheek tingling with fuzzy pain. You could have sworn the joint in your jaw popped if not for how you clenched it.
"How dare you speak of that trash in such high regard?" Father spat as tears welled up in your eyes. The metallic taste of blood filled your cheek as he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him once more. "Do you think someone like him sees you as anything more than a bank to withdraw berry from? As someone he cares about?" The man above you shook his head, his eyes darkening against the lanterns in your workshop. His broad hand moved from your uncomfortable jaw to your wrist, dragging your smaller form to a workbench.
"I warned you, girl," grumbled out and venomous like before, your father's voice nearly echoed across the workshop. You didn't dare look up at what he was doing, the truth too scary compared to the bittersweet obliviousness.
First, you heard the ear-piercing screech of metal being cut through, torn apart. The formed petals of your creation were haphazardly tossed around as Father destroyed the days of work. Then you heard him come near. He had brought one of the wrenches you often work with to the bench you didn't care to move away from, raising it high. "This is what that fool has caused you."
You only recall fixing up your hands that night, the pain in your knuckles soaring up your forearm as they were undoubtedly out of place. You had to pop them back in, though they never healed straight after that.
That was four weeks ago.
"Someone he cares about?"
"Alright, alright," the playful demeanor falters as the boy notices how anxious you'd become. He shifted to start his climb down from the branch, not before he studied your form along the railing. "I'll go, but only if you promise to come visit the hideout later." You stiffened up along the rail, a bad sign as he sighed out quietly. "..I found some books you might like. Some are about bikes."
The cold silence you gave him was enough of an answer, Usopp taking the hint as he climbed to a lower branch. "Okay. I'm going."
Your feet carried you to the mansion door, the door heavy compared to how small you felt. You wished to spend more time with your friend, but the looming presence of your father was too great to bear. The gold-trimmed door shut behind you, and you disappeared further into the house as Usopp watched.
"..I'll wait for you." Long nose spoke against the quiet, a light frown on his lips, before he climbed down the tree. At the base of the trunk, he stopped to glance up to the balcony, his hands moving along his bandana to fix it against his curls. "I always do."