"Just my luck." Aria adjusted her grip on the pirates' collars. "Marine outpost had to be uphill."
The two unconscious men dragged behind her, leaving twin furrows in the dirt. The path curved steeply through clusters of houses, and her shoulders burned with every step.
She set them down to catch her breath. "This would be easier if you'd just walked."
Neither responded. She grabbed their collars and kept going.
The small white-walled building finally emerged from behind a cluster of trees, the Marine flag hanging above the entrance. Aria slowed, taking it in properly.
She had seen the World Government's symbol on the ship at the docks, but that had been from a distance. Up close, the Marines were something else entirely. The flag was pristine despite everything else about the outpost looking slightly worn, like whoever was responsible for it took that one duty very seriously. The compound wall was modest, the kind built to mark authority rather than withstand anything, and through the entrance she could see the harbor spread out below, every ship in the bay visible from where the guards were supposed to be standing.
The guards were not, at this moment, monitoring anything. One snored with his head bobbing against his chest. The other had his cap pulled so far down it was doing the sleeping for him.
She cleared her throat. Nothing.
"Little help?"
The younger one startled awake with a snort, nearly knocking over his rifle. His eyes went from her face to the men she was dragging and back again, running through several expressions before settling on something approximating authority.
"What's all this?"
"Special delivery." She gestured with her chin. "Found them breaking into Gale's house."
The other guard lifted his cap. More Marines appeared from inside, looked at the situation, and began taking the prisoners off her hands with the efficient boredom of people who had seen stranger things.
The processing had the rhythm of routine. Restraints first, then a quick check for weapons, then a hand-off to someone more senior while the juniors went back to their posts. One of the pirates came around mid-transfer, thrashed, and was in cuffs before he finished working out where he was.
"You're under arrest for piracy and assault."
"She's the one who assaulted us! We were just talking to the old man—"
"Save it."
Aria followed them inside.
The interior was larger than the building's face suggested. Ceiling fans turned slowly overhead while Marines worked at their desks, moving through paperwork with the dedicated misery of people doing paperwork everywhere. The walls held a map of Syrup Village and the surrounding waters, marked with pins and notations in different colors. She studied it while the desk sergeant pulled out his forms, memorizing the harbor layout, the patrol routes marked along the coastline, the sea lanes leading out toward the Grand Line.
The station smelled of salt air and ink and whatever passed for floor polish in the East Blue. A wanted poster near the door showed a grinning pirate she didn't recognize, bounty reading five million berries. On the Grand Line that would barely register. In the East Blue it was enough to make the Marines take notice.
She was still looking at it when the desk sergeant cleared his throat.
"Name?"
"Aria."
"Family name?"
A beat. "Just Aria."
He looked up properly for the first time. "Place of residence?"
"Currently between homes."
He wrote something she couldn't read from her angle and pointed at the bench against the wall without further comment.
The bench held a snoring drunk who didn't acknowledge her arrival. After a moment he opened one bleary eye, considered her, and offered, "Y'look like trouble."
"I'm not the one in a Marine station."
He barked a laugh and dropped back into unconsciousness.
Across the room, she could see through the processing room doorway where the pirates were being catalogued, weapons lined up on a table while a Marine worked through them methodically. The curved blade she'd taken from Eye-patch had already been tagged and bagged. The leader was saying something loud and increasingly frustrated to a Marine who showed no sign of hearing him.
She wondered briefly what story they were telling, and whether anyone would believe it.
A lieutenant appeared at her elbow, stripes new enough that the edges were still crisp. He introduced himself as Hido and led her to a side room with the particular courtesy of someone who had been taught that courtesy and formality were close to the same thing.
The room held a desk, two chairs, and a wanted poster on the wall showing a different grinning pirate with a different bounty. She was starting to notice that pirates in wanted posters always seemed to be grinning.
Hido arranged his forms with care and asked her to walk him through what happened.
"Four armed pirates." His pen paused. "And you got lucky."
"Caught them by surprise. Probably drunk."
From the next room, the leader's voice rose above the others. "She's not natural! Stole my strength somehow—"
A thud. Then silence.
Hido looked at the wall, then back at her. "Interesting accusation."
"He hit his head when he fell." She kept her expression easy. "Confused, rambling."
He made a note. Scratched his pen across the paper for a moment. "Why come to Syrup Village?"
"Needed somewhere quiet. Looking for work."
"And Gale's house specifically?"
"Someone mentioned an old navigator. Figured he might point me in the right direction."
Hido studied her face with the practiced neutrality of someone trained to do it, then gathered his forms. "Don't leave the village until this is sorted."
"Wasn't planning to."
She stepped back out into the main room, past the desk sergeant still working through his forms, past the map with its color-coded pins, past the wanted posters with their grinning pirates. The younger guard she'd startled awake was back at his post now, standing a little straighter than before.
Outside, her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since the market. She stopped at a stall near the harbor and traded two berries for a skewer of grilled fish, eating while she walked.
'Two berries gone. At this rate I'll be broke inside a week.'
She needed income. Which meant she needed to go back to the one person in this village who had already seen what she could do and hadn't run from it.
Briggs looked up from his workbench when she pushed open the door. "You're back."
"Just dropped the pirates with the Marines." She tossed the fish skewer. "Gale alright?"
"Shaken. Kept muttering about the maps they were after." Briggs set down his tools. "You did quite a number on those four."
"They had it coming." She leaned against the counter, measuring her next words. "Actually, that's part of why I'm here. I'm looking for work. You need help around the shop?"
He didn't answer immediately, looking her over the way he'd looked at her papers earlier, taking stock.
"Could use an apprentice." He moved to the cluttered workbench. "Mornings are maintenance. Hull repairs, patch jobs, basic carpentry. Afternoons are for learning. Wood types, grain patterns, proper tool care."
"And pay?"
"Ten berries daily to start."
"Dock workers make fifteen minimum."
"Dock workers know what they're doing."
"I'm a fast learner." She pointed at the stacked timber in the corner. "And that pile is at least two days of work sitting there."
He ran his thumb along his jaw. "Twelve. Training included, lunch thrown in."
"Thirteen. And you teach me everything, not just the basics."
He considered her for a moment, then extended his hand. "Deal. But that means actual work."
They shook.
"Dawn to dusk, six days. Sundays off unless there's an emergency." He went back to organizing his workspace. "You'll handle deliveries too. Keeps you visible as a regular worker."
'And gives me a reason to move around the harbor without anyone asking questions.' She nodded. "Fair enough."
"One more thing." He called after her as she moved toward the door. "First mistake's free. Second costs you. Third gets you fired."
"Noted."
"Where are you staying?"
"Haven't sorted that yet."
He nodded toward a narrow staircase in the corner. "Room above the shop. Dry, nothing fancy. Five berries a night, comes out of your pay."
Aria looked at the staircase, then back at him.
'Shelter and proximity to the one person in town who might actually teach me something useful. I'd be an idiot to say no.'
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. Dawn means dawn."
The room was small and clean, with a narrow bed against one wall and a window looking out over the bay. Aria dropped her bag on the worn dresser and sat on the edge of the bed.
Through the window, fishing boats bobbed in the last of the evening light, their silhouettes going dark one by one as the sky deepened. The harbor sounds drifted up, creaking wood and distant water, and underneath it all the low hum of presences she was slowly learning to tune out.
She lay back and stared at the ceiling.
'Day one. Still alive. Still in one piece.' She flexed her fingers in the dark, feeling that faint pulse beneath her skin. 'Could be worse.'
She was asleep before she finished the thought.