One Piece of Music: Chapter 2

One Piece of Music: Chapter 2 - All Your Base Are Belong to Us
Within the confines of West Blue, there was a sea stack in possession of the width of an islet and the height of mountain. Said sea stack has yet to be officially named by the World Government; however, the general population of West Blue refer to it as the Tora no Tomarigi (Tiger's Perch).

Under normal circumstances, the World Government would designate the popular name of a location as the location's official name. But for an undisclosed reason, the World Government has outright refused to do the same for the Tora no Tomarigi. Thus, to this very day, the Tora no Tomarigi remains unnamed on all accredited maps of the West Blue and the world as a whole.

Elongating from the nadir of the Tora no Tomarigi was a multitude of wooden piers which were widely believed to have been erected sometime during The Void Century. Because each of the piers were sizable enough to comfortably fit a herd of elephants, an anonymous entrepreneur of an unscrupulous nature decided to have a number of structures constructed along the piers' margins. Amongst those structures were bars, brothels, inns, restaurants, shops, theaters, and et cetera. The anonymous entrepreneur then preceded to both toil slaves within the structures and invite the dregs of society to shop at their leisure, essentially creating a commercial district for pirates and the like.

Unfortunately for the anonymous entrepreneur and as a result fortunately for those who had been labored within the structures lining the piers of the Tora no Tomarigi, a conflict took place at the zenith of the Tora no Tomarigi. The extremity of the conflict was to the extent where a tropical cyclone was wrought by its occurrence. Said tropical cyclone decimated the population of Tora no Tomarigi.

Those amongst the survivors who had always been free hastily abandoned the Tora no Tomarigi. While those amongst the survivors who had been enslaved remained. It is naught but two of the remainders and the descendants of the remainders as a whole who are currently the primarily inhabitants of the piers of the Tora no Tomarigi. One of the two remainders to still be living is Ruri Fujitani, the proprietor of L'Origine and the grandmother of Ruriko Fujitani.

“I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Oh my. I wonder what has gotten her all riled up this time?” muttered an irritated Ruri to herself while she was frying up a couple of sliced potatoes that had been grown at the zenith of the Tora no Tomarigi. “I swear it is one thing after another with that girl. First she goes and gobbles down a Devil Fruit of all things, then she somehow convinced everyone and their mother into believing that defeating her is some kind of rite of passage, and now she is publicly threatening to murder my employees!”

“Shuga...” sighed Ruri, prompting a light-hearted chuckle from one the two other cooks. Said cook was a middle-aged woman in possession of both waist-length hair that was as glaringly gray as silver itself and a pair of eyes that were as sanguine as freshly spilled blood.

“Yes Mrs. Fujitani?” asked Shuga, the silverette, with her lips curling into a knowing smile.

“...please take care of my granddaughter,”

“As you wish Mrs. Fujitani,” Shuga complied. The silverette gestured fro the third cook, a young and dark-haired woman named Kakuzatou, to attend to the beignets she'd been whipping up before exiting the kitchen and walking into the dining room. “Oh Ruriko-chan...”

“Mrs. Shuga? N-no! Wait! I'm sorry! Really! I didn't mean to-ahhhhh!”

“You probably should have left that to me Mrs. Fujitani,” murmured Kakuzatou whilst noticeably cringing Ruriko's screams for mercy. “I don't believe that all of that is called for,”

“No,” responded Ruri with a shake of her hand. “Shuga has been out of ever since the miscarriage. I think letting her kick my granddaughter's ass like she used to do when the both of them were younger might cheer her up,”

“T-that's an odd way to cheer someone up Mrs. Fujitani,” stammered Kakuzatou with a droplet of sweat trickling down the side of her head.

“Speaking of oddities, how are you feeling today love?” asked Ruri while depositing french fries into a basket stuffed with absorbent paper towels. “Uwasa! Your order is done!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Y-yes mam!” answered Uwasa before rushing into the kitchen. Uwasa took the basket of french fries and then rushed out, obviously spooked into efficiency by Ruriko's thrashing.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Uwasa working diligently? Hmm. Maybe we should have Shuga beat on Ruriko every day,” considered Kakuzatou, much to Ruri's chagrin. “And to answer your question, I'm not feeling good at all. I-I have a bad feeling about today,”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Is that so?” sighed Ruri. Ruri knew that Kakuzatou was an instinctive user of Kenbunshoku Haki, and it was for this reason that she always took Kakuzatou's feelings. Most of the time, they weren't just sensations. But rather prophecies. “That is unfortunate to say the least...”

Elsewhere...
<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Aharon-gochou! It's starting to get cold! Can't we just forget about her and return to base? Please?” pathetically whined Iroppoi – a sultry marine with a hefty bust, luscious ass, and a pair of captivating legs – to her superior officer.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Iroppoi-ittouhei...” begun Aharon – a stoical marine with ear-length hair that was as lustrously black as finely polished obsidian – in response to Iroppoi's demands. “...unless you'd like me to report you for an innumerable amount of violations of the dress code, I suggest you assist me rather than hinder me!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Y-yes! A-A-Aharon-g-g-gochou!” stuttered Iroppoi, horrified by the thought of being reported higher ups whom were placed into power by Sakazuki-gensui of all people!

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“I suggest you do as your adjutant asked of you. Aharon-gochou,” advised the “her” that Iroppoi had referred to in a desperate wheeze. This “her” being a woman endowed with chest-length hair that was both as disheveled as the wilderness was uncultivated and as darkly red as the surface of a ruby. Much to Aharon's displeasure, the woman was lying upon the pathway to the zenith of the Tora no Tomarigi with what looked to be claw-induced lacerations across her chest. “I-if not. Then direct your attention towards Mouko instead of me...”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Nonsense,” replied Aharon whilst bearing upon his face an expression that was as devoid of emotion as freshly bought printing paper was of color. Immediately Aharon commenced to tend to the wounds of the woman before him as if she hadn't spoken a word. “The tiger will survive its injury with ease, you most certainly will not. Obviously you're the higher priority,”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“N-no way Aharon-gochou!” stuttered Iroppoi, eying the tiger that was lying beside the woman as she did so. “That tiger is definitely the HIGHEST priority! We need to do something about it before that thing wakes!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Hmph,” huffed Aharon at the very idea that a tiger could pose a threat to him. Aharon then finished bandaging the woman's wounds. “There. That should keep you from bleeding out for now, but we still need to get you to a doctor. There is no need to worry. I'll pay the bill myself so just cooperate with me okay?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“P-p-please run,” suddenly pleaded the woman much to Aharon and Iroppoi's surprise. “D-don't die here. G-g-go. Run,”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“What are you talking about?” asked Iroppoi seriously. “What's about to happened?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“A-a-all your base...” begun the woman only fall unconscious before she could finish. “...is belong to him,”