Thatch guides you out to the garden, but once you stepped out into the backyard you had a much better sense of how rich Edward Newgate really was. The house had been large and impressive, the amenities and decor a balance of functional modern and a cozy traditional feel, so you already had some sense of things.

The backyard, if it was even proper to call it that, highlighted that the estate had two wings that came off the front section of the house, and created a courtyard feel for the area just off the back patio. There were a few places set up for people to sit around and eat, a barbecue pit, and a stone oven which had function, certainly, but also played the part of center piece with a mini bar and seating around it.

It was easy to picture most of the family outside enjoying a meal from the grill more often than not.

The garden stretched out even beyond the penned in courtyard. The patio you were on was elevated slightly compared to the rest of it, and you could see the paths leading out into distinct areas.

"Aside from just grilling food, we use this area for social events and other parties." Thatch says, after giving you a moment to take it all in. "I think Pops wrote a third of the house and the entire courtyard off as a business expense when he expanded the place a couple of decades ago."

Taking a few steps forward, he steps down from the back porch and looks up at you with a smile. "There's a few different sections, but we don't have to walk all of them today. There's even a green house off the south wing. It has some vegetables in it, herbs, spices - things that are just harder to find fresh on this island.

"Is there something you like?" He prompts and your gaze shifts from everything else back to him.

"Pardon?"

"You were excited last night when I mentioned we had a garden."

You can feel the blood rush to your face and you just hope it's not visible. "I was - am - interested." You correct and Thatch smiles. "I've seen plenty of flowers, but I've never really seen them just... growing." You admit somberly. "They were already always cut and arranged."

His smile falters a little, brows creasing, but it doesn't last long before the smile is renewed. "I know what to show you then, shall we?" He questions, offering an elbow.

You accept it, placing your hand as you had just like last night. You lift your arm up a little higher than before, so Thatch doesn't have to lean down as far. He explains some of the reasonings behind the layout and design, how things had changed over the years.

It's interesting, but you recognize nervous chatter when you hear it, and you realize quickly that he's just talking to distract himself. It certainly makes it easier to be around him with no one else around, the way he gets flustered being near you. It's endearing, and your only fear is that it will turn out to be a falsehood.

Things didn't look up and then continue to look up. Not like this. Something was going to break. Thatch was either going to turn mean once you moved into his apartment, or Mr. Edward was going to demand a rematch because you were just a fake, some doll hardly worth his kind and valued son. Something was going to break.

As long as it wasn't you, you wouldn't be blamed.

"Everything okay?" Thatch prompts and you look up, and then around, and realize that you can't see the estate anymore.

"Yeah, I'm just... nervous." You say honestly, before realizing that you're saying that while isolated and alone with him, and continue speaking so you can clarify. "About this afternoon. I'm not nervous right now, I'm just," you look around again. "Unsure where we are."

The space itself is beautiful. The hedges are well-kept and there's flowers lining the space in front of them. They're tall though, maybe to create a sense of privacy or to help keep each section visually separate from the others, or maybe just because they grow best that way.

All thoughts of the estate and its location leave you, however, when you finally start to take your immediate surroundings in. The flowers lining the hedges are just a preview to the glory of the flowers around you right now.

Stepping away from Thatch, you reach out and brush your fingers over the petals of flowers you could name by heart, from what they meant to how they needed to be arranged. They all looked so different right now, so vibrant. Laid out with intent, you're sure, but then left to fill in the gaps on their own.

Flower types were taken into account well, including shape and color, to create an aesthetically pleasing space. It also smelled amazing, softer scents lifting up sweeter ones. In the open garden it wasn't so powerful as to be overwhelming, but you imagined there were some days where one didn't walk the gardens - they left them to the bees.

"It's beautiful." You say quietly and Thatch smiles.

"Yeah... it is." He clears his throat before motioning to a nearby stone bench. "If you want to sit and enjoy the sights for a while before we go back, we have time."

"That would be nice." You agree, going over and sitting down on the bench, your back to the hedges so you can look out over the majority of the space. "Did you and your family design these?"

"Hm? The different gardens?"

"Yeah."

"It ended up being a kind of coming of age thing," Thatch explains, standing a few paces away from you. "Not just to give something to the estate, but to have a place that was ours in a sense. Prove we could oversee a smaller project like this, how well we would or wouldn't rely on others, that sort of stuff."

"Growing up when your father owns a business is certainly unique."

"Heh, it can be a little stressful, but it's not like we're in competition with ourselves, and it's not like you have to do any of it either. A couple of my brothers hired other brothers to design their gardens, and aside from myself, Marco and Izou, only two others own their own businesses. But it's not like we tease Haruta or Vista for their choices." He explains.

"Family is not a source of any of the stress, then?"

"Exactly!" He beams. "Aside from the occasional brotherly aggravation." He admits with fake grumble.

You smile, but even in the garden it fades. There's a few moments of silence, and you let yourself enjoy the sun - you should've put sunblock on, Doll - and the soft breeze - don't let your hair smudge your make up, Doll - and the sweet scents - ugh I hate these outdoor venues, the flowers stink.

It wasn't often you got to enjoy the outdoors in peace, and Thatch seemed content to let you do just that. Looking over at him you catch his eyes shifting away from you, pink on his cheeks. Usually you could tell when someone was looking at you, but it didn't seem to be the case with him.

"This... isn't your garden though, is it?" You question, hesitantly. You don't know him as well as you'd like in order to make such an assumption, but you do know flowers, and dealing with people's associations to them. While these are beautiful, they don't strike you as flowers Thatch would choose.

He scratches the back of his head idly. "Nah, this one is Izou's. I can decorate pastries, but all this?" He waves his hand over the impressive collection of blossoms. "I might've been able to commission Izou, but yeah, this one isn't mine." He grins, looking down at you. "How'd you know?"

You look away, pressing your lips together. How strange was it for such a conversation to feel so intimate? It wasn't like you'd never talked about flowers to someone before now. You'd critiqued arrangements and had gotten into flower arranging to such a degree you had been able to spot famous, and local, arrangers easily.

This shouldn't be any different than any other explanation.

"This garden is well-designed and beautiful. The scents of the flowers are complex, but not off-putting, and the colors are exacting." You're not looking at him to see the concern on his face, and so you continue. "But it's very harsh, in a way. Unforgiving. There's no softness, and it's not very in... inviting." You manage to finish, feeling your heart speed up a little as you're pointedly avoiding looking at him now.

"Plus the flowers all mean rude things." You mutter after a moment and Thatch bursts out laughing.

"They do?" He asks, still laughing, and you nod.

"Meadowsweet implies uselessness." You explain, pointing as you move from one flower to the next. "Orange lilies are signs of hatred, and the foxglove is insincerity."

It takes Thatch a moment to stop laughing long enough to explain. "Izou wasn't - haaa - wasn't happy about the garden project." He breathes in deep, turning away and nearly wheezing. "Told Pops he'd still put his - his - hahaha - his heart into it."

You smile at the implication. Malicious compliance was something you could certainly understand. You'd only spoken with him a little this morning, and mostly about his business, but you could see him enjoying this space. Especially since no one else seemed to know just what it was built around.

A shrill short whistle cuts through the air and Thatch holds out a hand.

"That would be my dad letting the entire neighborhood know his sons need to come inside." He explains. "Shall we?"

You take his hand as you stand, and leave it in his loose grip as you walk back to the house. Thatch walks much slower with your hand in his, you aren't entirely sure if he's being considerate, or if he's just prolonging the return to the house. Maybe, honestly, a bit of both.

"There you are," Izou says, greeting you both as you make it to the back patio. "Pops was - oh? Holding hands already, Thatch you sly dog." He teases.

You don't withdraw your hand and Thatch doesn't let go, instead sighing at Izou as he holds your hand until you're at the top of the patio. Finally letting go he looks at his brother.

"Everything's settled then?"

"Yup, we're not leaving for a little while still. The bird's nesting in the living room, and Pops wanted to talk to the both of you before we left." He says, and then gives you a much kinder smile. "Just to make sure we're all on the same page, it's nothing bad."

"Certainly. I'm honestly surprised my parents agreed."

"I don't think Haruta left them much of a choice." Izou admits with a mischievous smile.

Edward Newgate was waiting in the dining room, sitting where you'd sat earlier while Izou had talked about his business. He was dressed differently than you'd seen before, his clothing more casual, but there was something intimidating about him. Intimidating in a mafia sense and less in an international CEO kind of way.

Your parents were certainly grifters, and you thought maybe their tendencies would give them a leg up when it came to being dubious, but now you felt you may have been wrong. You were suddenly curious how Whitebeard Shipping and Trade had been initially financed.

You sat across from Newgate, and Thatch sat beside you. The old man's stern face softened a bit as he regarded you.

"I apologize that you have to come with us, Miss Kakusho." He says gently, and you shake your head.

"No, it's okay. I understand why." You agree. It was very possible that you'd arrive at your parents house and they'd have marines there, trying to convince them that you'd been kidnapped by Edward Newgate and were being held against your will. Or they'd simply bar them entry and screech about trespassing, or lie about what room was yours.

"Alright. The plan is to have Marco, Thatch, and Izou pack your room and empty it. Haruta will be driving, and I'll be staying with you." He says.

"They're... going to pack my room up?" You question tilting your head.

"It's not gonna be pretty." Izou says. "We have some forty-two inch duffel bags, we're just going to toss everything in those."

"One room, the three of us, nothing of sentimental value to you," Thatch looks up at the ceiling, calculating something in his head. "I can't imagine it'll take more than twenty minutes."

"We can give Marco some coffee before we leave and he'll pack it all in ten." Izou muses.

"We want things to make it into the bags." Thatch admonishes, a grin on his face.

"Concerns?" Pops asks you.

You look at the table, pressing your lips together. "Some, but I will do my best."

"Such as?" He prods, and you shake your head.

"It'll be okay then." Thatch says after a moment of silence. "If you can't put it to words we'll still figure out how to make it work." He assures you, putting one of his hands over yours and giving you a smile.

"Before we go though, I just want to make sure we're in the same boat." Pops says, but his voice seems warmer than before, like he's trying to be as gentle as he can. "You do not want to stay with your parents, correct?"

"Correct." You answer.

"You want us to gather your things and come back here, correct?"

"Correct."

"Alright. That's good enough for now. We'll worry about when you'll move into Thatch's apartment tomorrow." He says. "But now I know what lines to hold your parents to while we're there."

Edward Newgate stands up and you're reminded of how large he is. Wider across than Thatch and a little taller, his physical dimensions were nothing compared to his presence. This was a man who could shoulder the world with one arm as far as you were concerned.

"Wake Marco. No pleasantries for this trip, my sons, we'll get this unpleasant business handled quickly."