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A knock at his door would have gone ignored had it not been immediately followed by a voice calling out for him.
"Uh, special delivery for Donquixote Doflamingo?"
Peering toward the door from his perch in the window seat, the Shichibukai narrowed his eyes with a thoughtful frown. He hadn't ordered anything recently, had he? No, he never forgot sending out for things...not unless he was exceedingly drunk. Which he had been on several of the past nights, chasing thoughts and feelings into the shadows for a while when they became a bit too troublesome. Painful. Yeah, painful was a better word for it after he read about--
Another round of knocks pulled Mingo from his thoughts and he roused himself from the seat, stretching and cracking his stiff back as he waddled over to the door.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here, quit with the noise already," he muttered, yanking it open and glancing down at the delivery man. "Yes? What ya got for me that's so damn important you came all the way up to my room for?"
"Er, well, I would've left it out front but it's rainin' and I have specific instructions that I gotta give the crate to you--Donquixote Doflamingo, I'm assumin'?--directly."
"Huh. Pretty dedicated to your job," Mingo commented, glancing at the crate situated on the floor behind the man.
" 's'what I get paid for," the delivery man shrugged, pulling out a clipboard and pen, scribbling something down.
"And who exactly paid you to deliver this, whatever it is?"
"Well, that'd be Sir Crocodile of Alabasta, Mister Donquixote."
The blond froze at the name, curious grin faltering slightly before becoming an empty shell of its former self. Crocodile. The older man had sent him something? It must have been sent some time ago, because it had only been a few days since the man had been shipped off to--
"Can I get a signature on this?" the delivery man interrupted again, holding out the clipboard and pen. "I gotta get back to the port before the ship leaves for the next island."
"No, I don't want it, take whatever it is back with you," Mingo refused sourly, shoving the clipboard back toward the other man. "Return it to Alabasta."
"That's the thing, though, I can't. I got paid to bring it here, and besides, there's nowhere for it to go if I did return it. It'd be orphaned."
"Wait...what? Orphaned? I don't get it," Mingo blinked with a perplexed expression, brows knitting together. "It's just a crate, right?"
"Live cargo," the delivery man corrected, gesturing to a label on the crate marking it as holding something alive, holes bored into the wood to allow air inside. "Got paid real nice to keep it fed, too. Can't take it back to Alabasta, though. The casino got shut down when Sir Crocodile was taken into custody. From what I hear, there was a pit of these guys--big ones--and no one could get them under control to have them removed, so they had to be put down. Far as I know, this one's the only one left."
One of Mingo's hands twitched violently at that, distracting from the movement by snatching the clipboard away from the other man. The cold coil in his chest returned, constricting his heart and making it difficult to breathe. The bananawani. Crocodile's precious pets, some of the few things in this world he showed any sign of affection toward, raising them and earning their loyalty...they were dead. Beautiful, deadly creatures demanding respect and a measure of fear...they deserved a much better end than to be cut down by cowards.
Signature hurriedly scrawled onto the paperwork, he dumped the clipboard into the delivery man's fumbling hands and approached the crate, ignoring the haste in which the other departed down the hall. Mingo crouched down, a hand running over the worn surface and he listened for a moment before a faint, broken little smile tugged at his lips. Claws scraped at the walls and he heard the distinct sound of scales brushing over wood. Standing again, he went to pry the lid from the crate before stopping abruptly, eyes falling on a letter that had been nailed onto it.
Hesitant fingers plucked it free and ripped the seam open, the blond swallowing thickly as he tugged the single sheet of parchment from the envelope. Steadying himself with a deep breath, he flipped the letter open and began to read:
Doflamingo,On your previous visit you expressed interest in owning a bananawani of your own. It is with the hope that you will leave me and mine alone in peace that I send you this hatchling to raise yourself. She is a rare specimen I believe you will appreciate and I trust you will take proper care of her. Should I hear otherwise, expect to find yourself in the pit beneath my casino. I am sure they would be happy for a bit of junk food, after all.
Signed,
Crocodile
Staring at the note for a moment, Mingo burst into laughter--true laughter--for the first time in days. That sentimental bastard. Shaking his head, he tucked the letter into his pocket and returned to the task of opening the crate. The lid came loose with a groan and he set it aside, peering down into the open container. Laying in a comfortable bed of hay and cushions was a white-scaled albino bananawani hatchling the size of a house cat. Lifting her head to blink bright pink eyes at the blond man looming over the crate, she gave a tiny growling noise of uncertainty.
Mingo stared at her and all at once realized exactly why she had been chosen for him, smile falling just slightly under the weight of the current circumstances. Crocodile had been shipped off to Impel Down--a death sentence, if he was being honest with himself--and all the hatchling's family had been slain. So that left the blond alone with the orphaned reptile and a letter demanding he do right by her.
"Well, I suppose you need a name, then," he chuckled hollowly, reaching down to gently pet her head.
She snapped her jaws at his fingers with a warning hiss and he loved her instantly.