Piles of loose papers, covered with poneglyphs scrawled across in her messy handwriting, that had been so much of Robin’s childhood. She learned on her own, sneaking into the library whenever Clover had finally left for the day. By that time of night, it was already too late for a child to be staying out, but it wasn’t as if Robin had anywhere else to be. She had no friends to have sleepovers with, and all of her other needs were taken care of by the librarians. So it was no issue taking long afternoon naps to justify this time alone with the books.
It was magical the time she could first look at the letters and understand them, understand without second-guessing or questioning her interpretation. Those papers had grown into the very fiber of her being.
And then they were lost, as was everything else Robin held dear.
The memory of the poneglyphs stayed, and she kept up her practice if only in defiance of the marines that still hunted the young girl for her knowledge. As she grew, she wrote in the glyphs as often as she could, always etched into the dirt, and easy enough to wipe away.
It was not until Alabasta that Robin once again saw the language in a handwriting that was not her own. It took her breath away and she longed to stare at it until her eyes dried out. Unfortunately, Crocodile’s smoke was wafting too close—she only had time to memorize and lie. Maybe the next time she could appreciate it, honor those that had risked their lives to write it, preserve it.
The hook in her back was the only sign she needed that it would not be possible. Only a miracle would save her now, let her live to see those saved ruins, treasured letters, again.
“Oy!” Robin’s head turned to where her new captain had thrown his head backwards off the front of the Merry. So far, the Straw Hats had been kind—more than kind, given how she had treated their friend before. And while this was not a home, not yet, it was the first place Robin felt that one might flourish.
The rest of the crew seemed to be focused on Luffy as he pointed over at the newest member, “If you see those big stone things—let Robin look at it!” He laughed in the bubbly, bright way that only he could, “You like those right?”
Like was an understatement, certainly, but all Robin did was nod and smile appreciatively, “Any poneglyphs, please tell me.”
The crew didn’t press any further questions on it—why she cared for them, what that meant—and Robin was at peace. She didn’t want to unearth her past quite yet with them. In time, she would—she could not run from it forever, but for now she would keep her friendships and her love of those large stone tablets to herself.