"She drank almost half a gallon of milk. Half a gallon."
"Kids probably eat a lot, yoi."
"It was still half a gallon."
"Shut up, you damn hypocrite."
"Quiet, brats!"
Whitebeard's booming voice cut through the argument and woke the girl that Jozu had just managed to put to sleep. Edward still had not made a decision about the child, although Marco seemed to have a good idea of what his father was thinking.
The little one whimpered, clearly unhappy about being pulled from her sleep and ready to cry again, but after a moment she waved her tiny hands and closed her eyes once more, allowing herself to sway in the pirate's powerful arms. The atmosphere on deck was tense, and Thatch could feel it in the way everyone seemed to hold their breath whenever the child moved.
"So you're saying she was alone," Whitebeard said slowly, speaking with the heavy North Blue accent that sharpened every consonant. His yellow eyes fixed on Marco, who was still glaring angrily at Thatch.
"Yeah. Completely alone, yoi," Marco answered, then raised his eyes toward his father and scratched his shaved head. "I mean, what would be the point of taking her from her parents or something? I'm not playing babysitter, old man."
"I could have you try to find her family, because the child is certainly from Bethesda," Newgate said thoughtfully, tapping a finger against the armrest of his chair, "but I am afraid they would simply abandon her again. Nevertheless, a pirate ship is no place for a child. We need to find her a home on this island. Someone will take care of her."
"If someone wanted to take care of her, she wouldn't have been lying on the beach, old man."
Fossa, who had been sitting quietly until now, glanced at his captain from above his cigar and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"Besides, Bethesda is not exactly a wealthy island. Who would want another mouth to feed, especially one that can drink half a gallon of milk?"
The pirate glanced toward the sullen Thatch, who was already preparing a reply, but Edward did not allow him to speak.
"In other words, you want to take this little crumb with us."
"Are you fucking insane, Fossa?!"
"Sit down before you lose your mind!"
"A kid on the Emperor's ship? Congratulations!"
"Shut your mouth, she's crying because of your yelling!" Jozu snapped, although the reprimand had only one effect: the girl began crying even louder, as if she wanted to demonstrate the impressive strength of her tiny lungs.
"Take her to the First Division's quarters."
"What? Why there, yoi?!" Marco stared at his father with wide eyes, but after a moment he surrendered and muttered something under his breath.
Jozu stood up, but the baby did not stop crying for even a moment, which drove Thatch almost to madness.
"Give me that little monster."
He took the screaming child and snorted angrily about the whole of humanity while carrying her toward the cabin that had been indicated.
"You're all the same: if you don't get what you want, you start crying immediately. One day you'll probably blow up the whole world and somehow it will still be our fault! I'll throw you overboard! And if you grow up and I meet you somewhere, I'll give you such a beating—"
Strangely enough, the child calmed down, as if she understood that he was speaking directly to her.
Thatch stopped uncertainly on the stairs leading below deck and glanced over his shoulder.
"What's the kid's name anyway?"
Seeing the confused expressions on everyone's faces, he simply shrugged and disappeared below deck as if he had never asked the question.
Marco woke up later in the morning in his hammock with the strange feeling that someone was watching him, and only after a few moments did he notice the large blue eyes of the girl he had found the night before.
"What's wrong, little cuttlefish? Are you hungry?"
He smiled to himself when the child gurgled happily and squealed loudly the moment he lifted her into his arms.
"Thatch will give you some milk, but don't drink too much. And if he starts barking, just tell me… however you want."
Ever since he had gone to sleep, Thatch's question about the girl's name had been echoing in his head, something Marco tried not to think about too much. But he had already spent several years at sea, and he knew that only things that truly mattered received names, and there were very few things in this world that did not matter.
Feeding the child was not a problem.
The problem appeared when the baby needed to be changed, and suddenly no one on board seemed eager to take responsibility for that task.
Eventually Izou solved the issue and wrapped the girl in a quickly improvised diaper and an oversized shirt. The baby seemed quite satisfied with this arrangement and announced it with a loud, triumphant burp after breakfast.
Fossa set aside his cigar for a few minutes—already the fourth that morning—and rocked the baby in his arms. The pirate laughed quietly to himself as the girl stretched her tiny hands toward him with obvious enthusiasm.
But it was only when she was placed in Whitebeard's hands that she truly erupted with joy, and her bright laughter rang across the entire deck.
Edward looked at the cheerful child with a strange warmth in his yellow eyes, and he seemed quietly pleased to notice that the baby immediately began protesting whenever he tried to pass her to someone else.
"She will stay here," he finally decided, while the baby's tiny hands tugged stubbornly at his long white moustache, "and you will find someone who knows something about her."
Marco had the distinct impression that his father would first make absolutely certain that the child would be safe before handing her over to anyone.
Especially after the two divisions had just heard his final words.
"Her name will be Lerena."