Chapter Text
After King Wapol was launched out of his own ill-gotten castle by the Straw Hat Pirates, his eviction was felt across the land. It lingered in the villagers’ breaths—relieved and lighter knowing he was out of their lives. His hulking metal plated body’s landing had shaken the very lands the Drum citizens used to hunt game they relied upon for survival. Leaving the thick layer of snow in the forest outside the village vulnerable to future avalanches.
Dalton knew strong leadership was needed following the end of Wapol’s regime and no one was more qualified to guide the people of Drum Kingdom than him.
He had kept hope at arm’s length for the longest time. He had worn anguish openly for all to see and denied his heart that hope despite yearning for it, out of fear that it would be torn away from him.
“Come back and visit me if you want another drink. But if it’s for anything else, you’re on your own.”
Dr. Kureha, in her own way had been trying to teach him that she didn’t tolerate fools with unnecessary injuries.
In the not-so distant past, his first instinct to protect his peers had been to stumble in unprepared with gaping wounds. He was in better health and had learned from his mistakes since then.
The responsibility of unifying the kingdom was a heavy one, but Dalton had found the Ox-Ox Fruit for a reason. He was destined to become a leader like no other. Strong enough to shoulder the weight of ruling, resilient enough to see it through and selfless enough to give it his all.
All the virtues bestowed upon him by the Devil Fruit were about to be tested by an unexpected source: a small avalanche everyone had been dreading.
Dalton led the rescue party once the snow had settled, of course. He would have it no other way. But the only real consequences was the hunting party feeling a little colder after having to rummage around in the snow for their weapons and trudging through knee-deep snow to return home.
It wasn’t a disaster, everyone was unharmed and everything was fine. Dalton wasn’t used to things turning out well, so he decided to make it his problem. He personally interviewed every member of the hunting party to ensure their well-being, gave them each a blanket and escorted them to the town hall where they could warm themselves by the community fire pit.
Everyone was relieved when Dalton took charge of the situation. It wasn’t a dire undertaking since no one had been injured, but it also wasn’t so long ago since Dalton had gotten stitches and been cleared for duty. Leaving Dalton treading a fine line between getting things done and overexerting himself when someone else could have taken charge.
When news of the minor avalanche reached the mountains, Dr. Kureha had a feeling a certain bison might overdo it again. Stocked with blankets, her medicine bag, and her usual bottle of plum sake Kureha made the long trip down to the village before Dalton’s selfless instincts got the better of him.
“Great rescue effort, Dalton. I heard no one got hurt and everyone is cozy with a blanket. But what does that leave everyone else if you handled everything yourself?” Kureha chided Dalton outside the town hall.
“I had to ensure everyone was taken care of.” Dalton replied, defending what he believed were beyond reproach. Giving the villagers stability to spare them one upheaval after another was more important than anything. He hoped Kureha would see things his way. She expectedly didn’t.
“They are, but you know what else overplaying the hero gets you?” Kureha asked disapprovingly.
Dalton remained silent while she finished her lecture.
“The beginnings of a fever. You don’t look warm, but you could have gotten sick stressing your immune system with too much work.”
Dalton nodded quietly, without looking Kureha in the eye. She wasn’t wrong, but she saw right through him, when he couldn’t see it himself. He was more disappointed in himself, than he could ever be mad at Kureha for scolding him.
“Honestly Dalton, you put so much of yourself into your work, learn to delegate. People trust you more when you entrust them with something important, instead of doing it yourself.” Kureha gave Dalton some useful leadership advice, which he misconstrued as being criticized.
“Is that why you’re here? To see how I’m handling everything?” Dalton asked with a hint of sarcasm. He knew Kureha was there to check on the villagers, but if she was going to give him a hard time then so would he.
“I’m not your keeper. I came to see how everyone was doing, but this time nothing terrible happened and you didn’t get hurt or sick. So, I’d say that’s an improvement.” Kureha gave Dalton her equivalent of praise while simultaneously making it sound like she expected Dalton to get hurt all the time. Not at all flattering, but Dalton felt comforted that someone recognized personal growth in him.
Kureha threw a blanket at Dalton’s face, he caught it before it smothered him.
“I thought you’d get a blanket for everyone, but yourself. I was right.” She said with a wry smile.
“Are you going to share your sake with me like last time?” Dalton asked scathingly, referring to her previous underhanded methods to knock him unconscious, he’d rather forget.
“No! This bottle’s for me. Warm yourself with tea and let someone else handle it.” Kureha answered, getting the last laugh.