Eustass Kidd for Pirate King

It's the morning of what Kidd assumed is his second day on the raft. There's not a cloud or bird in the sky, and the horizon remains unbroken. There's nothing magnetic close enough for Kidd to latch onto, island songs too faint to make heads or tales of. They're still directionless and drifting.

As it is, he's kneeling stiffly on the end of the raft, watching the fish swimming back and forth under the wood's shadow. His shadow skull ghost child squats next to him, doing what he can't, her head dipped under the water and looking at the school that's sheltering under them. She doesn't need to breath, and stares watching them far longer than Kidd could have even without his fruit trying to drown him.

She grabs them for them, but her hand passes through their little bodies uselessly. She surfaces, sitting back up with a frown, and show Kidd her failure; her hand passes through the water and fish like mist. "We'll figure something out," Kidd tells her, looking at the scraps she'd been collecting for him. It's mostly broken, burned boards at this point, the more useful pieces already worked into their raft in one way or another.

His stomach complains at him, his chest hurts when he lifts the canteen up, and he takes a sip of the recycled water he'd started to collect yesterday after he'd drip-feed the last of the clean water to Killer. The new water had a rough smell to it that Kidd did not care for, but it tasted clean enough. He sets the canteen back up under the roger-still rigged up across from the shelter Killer rested under.

The jagged pieces of Killer's helmet catch his attention, sun bouncing of the shard exposed edges. Kidd pulls the front piece from where its been kept safe with Killer. He turned the plate in his hand, before holding it between his knees so he could pick at the edges. Even the shards hold their shape when he applies force, and he chews on his cheek.

However, what couldn't be broken by force did bend under his magnetism, and he worked the piece back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until it broke free.

It was sharp and jagged and twisted. Some edges hooked and twisted. Perfect.

He shows it to his ghost girl, who's skull teeth twist up into a grin. "I can stab the fish with it for you!" she suggested. Kidd is surprised by her idea, and holds it out in his palm for her to take. He was thinking a fishing hook, but if she can use it...

She can hold it, but even as small as her hands are, it's still too small even for her to use it as a weapon. "Sorry," she says dejectedly, after a few failed attempts to wield it like a knife.

"Don't be," he reassures her, picking though their scraps for some thin rope or string or twine. No luck.

The rope she'd used to hold the raft in place would be too thick to begin with, and Kidd wasn't willing to risk the stability of the raft for a maybe shot at food.

She still held the ragged metal, sitting across from him next to Killer.

Killer.

Kidd's partner had yet to wake up; had yet to so much a moan or twitch. He stayed under the canopy right where Kidd had tucked him away. He was laying on his back right now, ragged bloody, salt stiffened hair haloed around him. Kidd scuffled over, his ghost companion watching curiously as Kidd ran his hand though Killer's hair.

"I need you to wake up and tell me off for even debating this, Kil'" He begged. He got no response.

Kidd sat himself down and pulled Killer's head into his lap, tilted to the side so he could card a hand though the longer parts of his hair.

He portioned out a small section of the longer bit, a good few feet of unbroken stands. Braiding hadn't been his strongest suit, more so after he lost his arm, but he was aware of how to do it, and he painstakingly divided this small section into three, carefully braiding as tight as he dared with one hand, until he had a bout two feet of thin braid.

He holds the tapered ends in his fingers, looking at the metal shining in his ghost's hands. She took the end from him, trying it expertly around the makeshift lure and hook combo she'd been holding. "Do you approve, Captain?" she asked when she was done, holding it up for him to inspect.

He smiled at her, before running his hand up to where the braid rest against Killer's scalp. He pinched in his fingers, before leaning down, carefully biting though the strands a few at a time, freeing the line from Killer. Once he'd chewed through the last strands, he sat back up, and she took that end from him to deftly tie it off before it could unravel.

"Well, Killer's gonna beat us black and blue for cutting his hair unless this works, so, here's hoping," he grunts at her, before easing the metal down into the water, twisting it to catch the light and draw the curious little fish to it.

For a few tense moments, none got close enough to inspect it, more wary that anything else. But Kidd always was a stubborn bastard, and he remained unmoving, just letting the waves turn it and push it just under the surface.

His legs cramped, his shoulder was starting to hurt, he could feel the sun burning his neck and back.

The sun was approaching it's zenith before the school accepted the little glinting metal, no longer afraid. And now a few swam closer. His ghost had cautiously edged forward to watch with bated breath. One tiny fish, no bigger than his forefinger, darted forward, but not enough to catch and Kidd resisted the urge to try and jerk the metal to catch it anyway. He forces himself to wait. Wait. Wait.

One nipped at the metal, and yes! Kidd jerked the metal up, the little fish catch on the edges and impaled on the metal.

Kidd grinned, holding the tiny prize up. It was a start, and it proved that this could work. Kidd can use this first fish to try and bait something bigger. There were bigger fish in the rafts shadow, at least bigger than his fist.

Skull ghost held the metal for him and he sacrifices the tiny catch as bait, letting the line back in the water, and letting it drift down the the end of the braid. It went faster than his first catch, and he was pulling up a second in no time.

He beamed down at his prize, before holding his fist up to his ghost. She grinned, taping it with her own undefined fist.

As the day wore on, the problem Kidd faced next was the half dozen of fish sitting out on the wood next to him. "Think Killer's helmet could get hot enough under the sun to cook them?" he asked his Ghost. Her face was gone again, barely a silhouette.

"Yeah, probably not.." he muttered, poking the first one; it's skin dry already, but far from anything remotely cooked.

"You'll get parasites." she whispered. Her voice was weaker as the day went one, like the sun burning the morning dew away.

"Well, that wont kill me today, so that's future me's problem."

"Famous last words," she teased.

He gave her a weak smile, but held up the first fish. "Fuck it" he decided, and swallowed the thing whole. A lesser man might have hurled it back up, but it was far from the worst thing he'd eaten over his life, and forced the second one down the same way.

"Killer, you want some?"

Unsurprisingly, he got no answer.

He sighed, before eating three, saving the smallest for bait later. He's laid back out on the raft, head pillowed on Killer's thigh under the canopy, the rest out of him stretched out under the blazing sun, easing the stress on his busted ribs.

"Victoria?" he whispered to the sky. His ghost hovered at left his side, before he felt her move down to lay next to him. She was quiet, looking up to Killer's resting features, before Kidd felt her tiny hand curl against his stump absentmindedly. He turned to look at her, following her gaze to Killer. "I.." his voice was small, wondering if he was just out here talking to himself. Living with ghosts he's not ready to let go of.

"What am I suppose to do?"

"We keep moving forward. Just like always."

His head was pounding and he felt like he was going to vomit. The sun beat down on his face, the sea salt thick in the air, the waves uneasy under him. They were not violent, however, they were pitching much more than they should, and Eustass Kidd jerked awake in a panic.

Nothing but the ocean met his gaze.

He was laying on his back on wet wooden boards, head turned as he stared out into the open water. He was weighted down by a heavy pressure on his chest, and could feel warm water lapping around his bared legs, hanging listless into the water. He struggled to pull his feet up and out of the water to try and clear his head but he seemed pinned in place, body refusing to follow the most basic of orders he gave it. Each breath fought him on every inhale, and the blue ocean swam in and out of focus before him.

He lay there, numb, floating, left at mercy of the sea. He could do little more than just be. Just exist until at last the thumping in his head quieted until he could only hear his heart beat in time with the waves. Until the world stopped spinning hazily when he opened his eyes. It hurt to breath, he felt like he was burning, overheating, being smothered. He tried again to move, grunting in pain, finally rolling his shoulders and forcing his head to turn, neck feeling like it was made of broken glass. He couldn't move much more than that, but finally got his head working enough to look around.

A moribund Killer was pressed against his chest, Kidd's own water logged coat over them in turn. Killer's lower body was still in the water, one harsh wave away from being swept away to the depths. The only thing keeping them both above surface as it was were a couple few boards lashed between three barrels, bobbing along. The makeshift raft was perilous, held together only through it's inexplicably meticulous rope work.

The ocean still drained not just his strength, but his mental clarity, it took more effort than Kidd would of liked to get him and Killer out of the water, gasping for breath as he managed to get a footing on one barrel and push himself further along the boards. If he had the strength he may have screamed in pain and aggravation as he did, a fist full of Killer's jeans and belt dragging the man up with him as he pulled them out of the ocean. Instead he was left choking off whimpers as his ribs complained and his vision dimmed. His head fell back against the warped broken boards once again, and Kidd stared up at the blue, blue sky.

He thought he heard someone calling for him, a faint childlike "Captain?" whispered on the breeze before he dropped off into darkness once more.

*

It was much hotter when he drifted back awake. Between the sun, Killer and his coat, Kidd was sweating and panting when he woke up again. He was careful not to fling his coat into the water as he drug it off them, before propping himself up on his one arm. There was a scrape of pain across his chest when he did, something new from the deep burning pain within that came with each breath. Killer slumped against him.

"Hey, Partner?" Kidd grumbled, but his second remained unmoving. Burning more energy then he had to spare, Kidd manage to drag himself over until he was propped up against one of the barrels, used his thighs to drag Killer with him. His ribs screamed with the movement, lungs burning. Once settled, certain his weight wouldn't displace the boards and drown them both, Kidd pulled Killer close, rolling his oldest friend into his arm so he check on him. "Killer?"

Killer's mask had been shattered - far worse then Hawkin's had left it - half of his bruised and bloody face exposed to the air. The edges had been digging into Kidd chest, a collection of ragged gouges across his sternum. The faux-fruit Killer'd eaten at Wano left his lax face smiling softly, and Kidd bit back an ugly feeling at what had once been one of his favourite sights. Killer did not respond to Kidd's prodding, and sitting under the brutal sun, Kidd carefully rolled Killer back in place, hiding his exposed face between them once again.

They'd been rescued from the water, but to what end. They were drifting, at the mercy of the current, burning under an unrelenting sun. They had no water, no food, and no way to steer. Maybe when Killer woke up, they could use Kidd's coat as a sail... no. They were as good as dead, just bidding their time until they, too, ineluctably joined the rest of their crew.

Kidd let his head fall back against the barrel, eyes closed into the sun. His hand toyed with the ragged locks of Killer's tangled hair. No. They survived this long, Kidd was not going to just throw in the towel. First step was to get as out of the sun as they could, and wait out the hottest part of the day. He just needed to clear his head - he'd figure something out. He'd get them out of this. This wouldn't be the end to their story.

Catching one corner of his coat between the far barrel and his bare heel, Kidd fastened a cover with it as best as he could, propping his elbow up on the barrel behind him to catch the shoulder of the coat in his fist above his head. It was not going to be a pleasant position to be in for any given amount of time, but the shade was already a marked improvement.

As the sun beat down on them, Kidd ineludibly drifted off again.