Gutz

“Well, then… Are you guys ready?”

Sparkling flecks of vivid orange glitter along the surface of a calm, cool ocean. Alone, bearing a torch and standing firm aboard a dinghy, the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates holds steady in reverence. He resists the crippling twinge of misery that climbs from chest to throat. 

The Going Merry’s figure silently regards him with a latent smile. 

A few paces behind are his crew. The rowboat we share, alongside Luffy’s dinghy – offered by Galley-La Company – permitted us to stand with the Going Merry, sharing her waters in what was intended as the vessel's final moments. With the towering galleon at our backs, all onlookers would not be privy to whatever was said below. Our farewell would be as intimate as we could’ve hoped for. 

Cloud-bundles are tied with shining ribbons of sunset-hues. Slightly overcast, every passing minute renders the sky dimmer. It’s quiet, save for the mellowed rush of waves as they connect with ships. Perhaps the ocean was grieving, too.

The Merry’s head dips, body slanted after it split in two, lowered to the water. Her expression reflects there, almost pondering. 

Zoro and Sniper King parallel my figure, the whole line of Straw Hat’s stew in gloomy inevitability. Myself seated on the boat, Ivory props himself up onto my legs, tail limply dangling to the floor. He was quiet, too. 

There’s no major speech to give. All of us, as a unit, have already accepted that this is the right option… Facing her last day on the open seas, our friend was deserving of the best send-off we could offer. She was the one member on our crew that truly made us who we are; the glue that held us together. 

“Yeah.” Cigarette crumpled between his lips, Sanji murmurs the words, and blows a line of smoke.

“Yeah…” Chopper whimpers – the only other member who can find a response – tears dribbling down his face. 

One last time, Luffy scans across the Merry’s battered, scraped, and worn-out physique. Sights drop to the crevice at the very base of her frame, a sharp ‘v’ in place of where she’d split into halves. 

Torch lowered, the splintered remnants caught aflame in an instant. 

“Merry… I know the seabed is dark and lonesome, so we’ll watch you to the end.” A trail of flame lines the cracks of her paneling, spreading like wildfire. “Maybe it was good that Usopp wasn’t here. There’s no way… That he could bear this.”

Voice veiled by the popping, crackling fire, Zoro speaks softly; “What do you think?” 

Red-hot and searing, the fires wisp around the Going Merry’s old boards, a marr of sooty scarring in their wake. 

“I disagree.” The goggles on Sniper King’s mask flicker in the warm light, hoarsely maintaining the facade of his made-up character. “We must all say our farewells someday… This is a man’s parting. Not even a single tear must be shed.” 

An obtrusive sizzle – The torch is tossed aside, into the sea. 

“Luffy knows… What has to be done.” 

I only have the view of my soulmates back. There’s no fluidity in his form, forming a solid stance…. A structure for the responsibility that came with his station, one that’s exactly the same as the day he’d made his decision on leaving the Going Merry behind. It’s not an easy task to uphold, nonetheless, he’s the one doing it. 

“But… I just keep thinking… That most of us wouldn’t have been able to make the same choices that you did. I-I mean, you’re strong, Luffy. I don’t know if I could’ve done it in your place.” 

“You would’ve. You’re strong, too.” 

“N-Not that strong, no. Um… Not like a captain.”

Luffy may still be a boy… But, more than that, he was the captain of his crew. That was the reason why he was the one up there, and nobody else. 

Not much longer, then the Going Merry’s completely engulfed. Our Jolly Rogers writhes in the heat, withering away into speckled, dusty ash. 

“Thank you for carrying us for such a long time, Merry.” Indebted, Luffy’s words are as solemn as they are grateful. There would be no repaying all that the Going Merry had done for them. Without her, the Straw Hat pirates would never have existed. 

A hush falls over. We listen to the smoldering-destruction with aching hearts, a tranquility somehow born out of this doleful conclusion. Soon enough, the Going Merry would be resting at the bottom of the sea like an old relic.

Painted skies pour their last beams over already scorching embers, turning the ocean a vibrant, Caribbean green. 

Pure, ethereal white floats in the corner of my eye. A snowy spec, carried on the air in fluorescent puffs, lands on Ivory’s nose. He sneezes, blinking at the air as more of the fuzzy shapes appear overhead. 

Snow? Or, maybe ash… I lay my hand out, curious, only to witness one of the specs instantly hover my palms center. More sprinkle across my hair, and clothes. Blurred – emanating a sheer, golden haze – the sensation is so cold that it stings. 

Memories cross my vision like long-forgotten film. 

My arrival here… The day those first words appeared,

"Hey! I caught you!"

"Um... yeah, you did. You caught me, thanks."

The fiasco’s encountered in my first days on board.

"Um... guys?" 

"What's the matter?" 

"I think there's something on my--'' The bobber shoots beneath the surface so quickly that I don't have time to finish my sentence, nearly losing the rod from my hands as the line goes taut with a drawn-out twang.

"Lemme' help!" It's swift, but I can feel the warmth of his arms wrap around me, leaning so close I can feel the muscle of his chest pressed against my back.

…Struggling to get used to things.

I open my eyes, see the empty eye sockets of a skeleton in front of my face, and feel my stomach drop. It hits me that a literal dead person is laying on top of me, before I begin to screech so loud that I was sure every pirate and marine could hear me within fifty miles. The emittance hurt my throat, but I didn’t care. 

All of them look at me, but I'm too busy flailing and getting further tangled with the dead guy, trying to get him off and failing; still screaming.

"A skeleton dead guy!" Usopp hollers with me. 

Our adventure to Skypiea… 

SHWOOM!

The ocean bursts alive. 

The scream that rips from my throat hurts, high pitched and more than likely making Chopper's sensitive ears bleed. Though I can faintly hear the rest joining the sound soon after. 

I peek my eyes open against the steady-whipping of the wind against my skin. The jet of water that's sailing us into the sky is enormous. It’s taller and wider than anything I've ever seen.

A sky island. 

An actual island in the sky, and a city of gold.

Hanging out on the deck, all of us together.

–“Don’t you guys know anything?” The snark in the air is palpable as Usopp draws an audience for his show, ever the story-teller. Zoro seems like he’s getting ready to slice the look clean from Usopp’s face, as if Usopp had directly insulted the man. “It’s slang for ‘to be honest,’ and ‘oh my god.’” 

“How was I supposed to know that?!”

–Lo’ and behold, Usopp rises from beneath the deck with a toss of a sweatshirt in my direction and my phone held high over his head, Statue of Liberty vibes. Better yet, it seemed he had managed to figure out a couple things during the last time I let him use it. The steady, upbeat electric-strum of the song (Coast, by Hailee Steinfeld) catches everybody's attention instantly.

“Baby, all I wanna do is coast with you, energy, the body flows…” 

–“I can’t take you seriously with that stuff on your face– You look like you're a swamp monster, or something! It’s hilarious!” 

“Y-You’re so– I-I’ve been sneaking you snacks this whole time! You could’ve at least stepped in and–”

“Wait, you’ve been giving Luffy our food this whole time?!” Nami’s ear catches my words, turning to glower at me in distrust. “This whole time? You traitor!” 

–“Hey, guys! Are you playing tag? Ooh, is (Y/n) playing with us?!”

“Yeah, I am.” You answer sweetly. 

“Chopper!” Luffy calls The Doctor’s name in warning, and he already knows what you’re going to do before you even do it. 

“Wait, no Chopper!” Usopp realizes something is up… It’s too little, too late. 

You reach down, a single finger outstretched, and tap Chopper’s blue nose with a chuckle. 

“You’re it! No tagbacks.” 

Luffy, lifting the Merry’s anchor out of the ocean, removing her sails as ‘gifts’ for me – Late nights, waking up in tears, watching the stars under her looming mast – A treasure trove of trinkets, memories held in a dingy drawer, kept safe even in the roughest of seas – Finding Ivory safe and sound in the Merry’s keep, even when it shouldn’t have been feasible…  

My soulmate, shadowed by the raging inferno, obscures the blaze. Lips purse tight to withhold their trembling, and to smother the oncoming sobs. 

I’d said it before, yet it matters so much more to me now; The Going Merry was all I’d ever known to be home since coming here. All those memories, down to my very first hour spent in this world, and it’s already disappearing. 

What did that mean for us? …What did that mean for her? 

The mast collapses, thermal energy generating an intense blast. The fire culminates into an untameable beast, tearing away our skull-decorated flag that shivers in the deep orange, flipping and swooping through billowing smoke. 

“I’m sorry.” 

I stiffen, as do the others – the only confirmation that I haven’t abruptly lost my mind. 

It wasn’t any of my friends, or Luffy, and certainly not from the Galley-La Company. This was coming from directly ahead. As if half-attached to this realm of being, the unrecognizable voice emanates an oddly placed rush and recede; a mimicry of the tides that heed their moon’s call. 

“I wanted to carry everyone just a little bit further…”

Tears rolling down my cheeks, Merry's permanent smile doesn’t fluctuate. There's no change to her kind expression… Except, I swear she’s speaking–

“I’m sorry. I wish our adventures could go on forever.” 

Ivory’s ears flatten to his head. It’s absolutely gut-wrenching, listening to the disembodied words tremble with sorrow. 

“M… Merry!” Bursting with sobs, Chopper calls to the vessel with outstretched hooves, breath skipping and snot drooling. Nami stifles her cries with two hands clamped at her face, collapsing to the ground, knees giving. Simply based on their reactions, it has to be true. 

“But… I–”

“No, Merry!” Luffy cuts her off. “I-It’s us who should apologize, not you!” Wretched, regretful; The captain’s full-blown sobbing exceeds my own, prompting a flash-flood that expands the hollow columns of my chest. “I’m no good at steering… I ran you into icebergs and all kinds of stuff! I took bad care of you and ripped your sails, too. Zoro and Sanji are stupid too, so they broke all sorts of things… Usopp tried to fix you, but he wasn’t any good at it! We all know that.”

An abrupt double in emotion. A pool overflowing the deep-end, and I’m absolutely drowning in it; There’s nothing but pure anguish, with the world tinted in Navy… Vices that nearly had me caught before I felt the wet plop hitting my shoulder. 

Sniffling. Numb, impaired by the weight of our conjoined misery, I turn my sights slowly upwards. 

Gnawing at his bottom lip, the bunch of his cape soaks with rivers of tears pouring beneath the mask – Usopp. 

“If… If anyone’s sorry, it’s…” Luffy can’t finish the sentence all in one go. “It’s us!” 

A moment passes… Then another. 

“But… I’ve been happy.” Soothing our collective cries, if only for a few seconds, the Merry smiles on in her funeral pyre. “I know you always treated me with love. Thank you very much… For taking good care of me all this time.” 

I reach for Usopp’s clenched fist, quaking as nails dig deep, and hold tight. One limp squeeze is more than enough of a response. 

“Even if the time we spent together was short, I really have been happy…” 

Wistfully, Merry closes her parting words in immeasurable fondness, gazing upon the eight faces of those she’d never forget; Their skins’ wet with tears.

“Because I had you.” 

As Luffy promised we would, we wait, and we watch. 

We watch the last flames sputter out, hissing into darkened, sooty splotches. 

We watch the Merry’s shadow sink into obscurity, absorbed into the great blue. 

We watch until there’s nothing left but bubbles, petering out in number as they rejoin the air.

We watch, a disunited crew bobbing on the ocean's surface – bereaved of one less vessel to coast its waters…

And we watch some more.

—

“When does a man die? Is it when he is shot in the heart with a pistol? When he’s stricken with a deadly disease? When he eats soup made from a deadly mushroom? No. 

A man dies when he is forgotten.”

—

Tidbit today…

You may not remember, but during the adventure of Navarone (The Naval Fortress filler episodes), it was never revealed who tugged (Y/n) off the side of the boat when the floodlights came on, and the Straw Hats were first discovered as intruders. 

Since she surfaced the water alone, it’s been an unsolved mystery amongst the crew on who was at fault. Nobody’d admitted to it, and the only one who noticed anything was Zoro. When he’d turned to look for (Y/n), who’d been some distance apart from the others, she was already gone. 

The culprit? None other than The Going Merry itself.

Shrrk–

He would never forget that sound. 

Sticky, wet, and fleshy… The blade shearing through your back as you lost your breath. 

Fingers dig into your shoulder, the other hand gripping a handle that juts from your back. He doesn’t even look at the perpetrators face.

Wide-eyed, he’d refused to accept it at first. Yet, the way your expression slid from your face, how your body lurched forward from the impact… He remembers that, too. 

Exhaustion hinders, dulling all natural processes. Crimson bleeds into the fabric covering your hip, staining your shirt more than it already is, and the pain lags behind its coppery-counterpart. 

The spot isn’t small, though, not like the others. It’s growing, extending to the fabric around it, a centimeter added over each torturous second.

Luffy remembers everything. 

Your fingers reach for the slicked, glossy fabric, trembling enough to ensure that you’re not quite aware of what’s happened. Hesitantly, your eyes glide to meet his – locking for one pivotal moment – seeking help that he can’t give you. 

“If you really felt sorry for me…” Slurring, the words crowd from the blonde woman’s mouth in a low growl, jaw hung and heaving.

Through the fog around him, Luffy hears her speaking. Then there’s a sound akin to slicing meat. 

“Then why the fuck… Would you walk away like that?”

A sudden, searing agony finds home in place of where the knife once rested. Your eyes gloss over, and Luffy watches as lashes flutter, tense and boneless all at once.

“...Like him.”

Rachel shoves you to fall to the floor, and then Luffy’s screaming.

Rage, panic – everything in between – boils over to scald his flesh from the inside out. He doesn’t even register his own voice until his throat mimics carpet burn. Luffy calls your name, he curses, he berates the woman who stabbed you; in no particular order. Spit flies, wild as he is frantic.

Luffy’d used up everything he had in order to defeat Lucci. 

He’d admitted that himself… It’s what he’d had to do.  

He doesn’t know what to do other than scream. 

Nerves scorched, a persistent yanking from deep within his body threatens his heart to seize. Each breath is erratic, pathetically wheezing from the dried column of Luffy’s throat. 

He can’t move.

Entire body shot, the most Luffy can manage is the popping of his joints as they stretch. The muscles won’t respond to his demands, despite the unbridled urgency to get up, up, up–

Elbows knock the concrete beneath, shuddering his bones. Arms go slack. Luffy just screams harder. 

Infuriated, the pieces that compose Luffy – compose you – are sheer torment. He needs to move, right now. All he had to do was roll over… He’d drag himself over to you by his teeth, if he could. 

That woman stands in the same place, off-center and shaking, white-kuckling the bloody knife. Dripping Ruby rivulets race down her tanned skin, and as each drop leaves the sharpened edge, they flee; as if the substance is still consciously part of you. 

It’s slow to come to him. He recognizes this woman. 

“You’re not sorry at all… You’re just like him!” 

“Leave her alone!”

Any means of intimidation had been futile. 

The helplessness, the intent in Rache’ls eyes… Luffy thought back on it, and grit his teeth. 

“Stop–” 

His voice breaks, genuine panic breaking his ferocity. 

“Stop it!”

It’s the first time she actually looks at him; Sinister, and sickeningly gleeful. There’s no mercy, or understanding… What shines in her absurd blue eyes is the promise of death, for both of you. 

All he wants is to obey the ballistic compulsion clenched in his veins. It’s smashing at the walls of its cage, headfirst and caving his ribs. A loaded gun that’s clocked back, the second he got himself to move, he would follow in on his urges: To beat the shit out of this lady until he couldn’t feel his knuckles anymore.

Still, he knows better… And Luffy knows he won’t be able to do anything against what was about to happen. 

The woman knows it, too. 

A grin curls at her lips, sneering. “‘Better pair…’ That’s what you said, right?” 

Snarling, the tight contortions of his face weaken as the blonde raises the blade. Waggling it between fore-finger and thumb, cruelty bared with a sharp-toothed smile, she flaunts the weapon before his eyes. Fear freezes sharp, a cold flash diminishing the flames of his aggression. 

It’s starting to hit him, now. All focus removes from the woman, returning to you. You’re barely conscious. 

“(Y/n), you gotta get up.” 

No response. 

“C’mon… Get up! Run!”

You can’t move anymore. The blonde limps toward your lifeless form.

“Damn it,” He’s scrambling for a solution. Neither of you could combat this, in your current condition. You’d already lost so much blood, and if you were already passing out, that meant it was only a matter of time before– “W-Wait, don’t… (Y/n)–”

Eyeing the red pooling around you, dread plummets into his stomach, and his throat constricts.

Rachel’s limping forward, and by god, every cell in Luffy’s body is vibrating– 

Do something.

“Ch… Chopper!” – His crew. 

And it’s the first name he thinks of. Soon after, sights catch the empty space on the bridge up above. 

“Usopp!”

She’s hovering over you, now. The knife is poised, ready to finish the job. All it would take is one swing. 

The boy’s fingers claw at the ground, fingertips trailing blood, tearing skin on popcorned stone. 

“Usopp!” Again, so loud it hurts – he doesn’t have a command to support the call – he bellows his friend's name. 

Rachel’s arm goes to swing. Luffy feels himself choke– 

“Fire-bird star!” A wave of heat slaps his skin, the world glowing with a bright, blinding orange. 

Luffy squints. When the blaring sensations fade, the woman’s figure reveals to be flailing before him; Her upper half completely doused in flame. She shrieks hellishly, trying and failing to put out her own body whilst stumbling back into the open room. 

Your eyes are still closed.

“(Y/n)...?”

…Nothing. 

In the background, the woman’s screams are reverberating ominously in the massive space, echoing deeper the further she trails inward. 

“Wh-What… What happened? What’s going on?!” Usopp yelps in the distance, having not witnessed your attack. “Is (Y/n) okay?!” 

You’re not… You’re slipping. Luffy can feel it. 

“Quick, Luffy– Use your gum-gum powers and get over here, or else we’re all gonna be killed! Chopper’s up here, he can–”

The captain isn’t listening.

“(Y/n)?!” Eyes wide, they burn with hysteria. He tries to get closer. To shift– to do literally anything–

Luffy’s scared. 

“Look at me– (Y/n), you gotta–” Rambling, displaced, the captain feels out of his mind. “You gotta look at me, okay? You…” 

There’s a shift. 

Your face twitches… Then, a deep breath, and your eyes blink open; You’re still here. You are, although he isn’t sure how much of you.

“(Y/n)...”  

But the relief is only momentary, as the next time you try to blink, they don’t open again.

“No, no–” Armed with only his voice, he can’t so much as outstretch his hand to you. “Don’t close your eyes!” 

You release a long exhale, and whatever tension leftover in your body is released.

“(Y/n)!” 

After that, a lot of it’s a blur. 

“All canons, take aim. Eliminate Straw Hat Luffy.” 

“Luffy!”

Usopp. 

“Get a hold of yourself, kid!” 

“Pirate guy!”

Monster Granny, and that little girl who liked you so much. 

“Luffy– Stand up! Please!” 

Nami. 

“Damn it! You’ve gotta do something right now, Luffy!” 

Sanji. 

“Straw hat!” 

“Straw hat, you can do it!” 

Franky. His friends.

All these voices, calling out to him… None of it matters;

You’re dying. 

“Don’t– Just, hang on–”

The bond is weakening. 

His throats hoarse, barred by an excruciating metallic-lining, coating his windpipe. There’s no more moisture to give, dry-eyed even as the globes sting from just behind. With a gagging wail, the captain feels his back prodding the stone, flexing, only to give out after a few moments. Vision shakes and spasms, centered on your pallid face. 

“...elow.” 

…What the hell? 

“...k below.” 

It repeats itself, phantom in its utterance, yet the words feel as if they’re being whispered into his ear… Who is that?

“Look below.” 

Its voice carries an undertone of noise; distant, yet familiar sounds… The ocean waves… Whales calling low… Howling, forlorn winds… Creaky old boards… Fluttering sails…

“Look below!” 

“Into the sea!” Usopp is the first to corroborate the mysterious speaker, holding a determined fist into the air as tears pour down his face in rivers. 

The marines have started their countdown. It starts from five, and all the way down to one, his other crewmates and friends have joined Usopp in his cheers–

“Into the sea!” 

Sprouting in parallel lines, Robin’s hands appear over the length of the floor. You’re the first to go. 

Ragdolling, unresponsive, trailing blood up until your body is twirling midair; Luffy watches with you travel with a conflicted alleviation, unsettled by your deathlike stillness. 

“Let’s go back, everyone!” 

Luffy’s turn comes to pass, plummeting aimlessly towards his most life-threatening weakness. Finally, he catches a glimpse of the group's collective savior. 

Tears prick, and a gratified, relieved half-smile spreads over his face. 

“Back to the seas of adventure!” 

The building explodes behind him. Amongst the spattering of rock, and the tower's crumbling stature, a friend coasts amongst choppy waves with a smile of its own. 

“Merry!” 

“I came to get you!” 

Luffy’d been fighting tooth and nail the instant you both hit the water, eyes scanning the treacherous waters, doing the utmost to hold his breath until someone came to the rescue. Of course, he found no sign of you, where a grueling amount of time passed prior to Monster Granny scooping him up and tossing him onto the ships deck. Floor to spine, the boy rammed the back of his neck upon landing, barely any wits about. There, the solidity of an unconscious body is lobbed directly onto his chest, a head of (h/c) hair cracking his jaw. Warmth had spread over his front startlingly quick, the red vest darkening as if stained by spilled-wine. 

Chopper was the first to notice. You’d been hurried away not long after that, with Luffy given a full view of your head lolling over Franky’s bicep, hair draped into a tangled mess – watching, paralyzed as they disappeared into the main cabin with you. 

Spineless in his impaired state, Luffy’d endured an inordinate amount of time without a word on your condition. He lay on the deck in a cool puddle, feeling your blood as it thickened, the briny seawater aiding its coagulation. The door left slightly ajar, he could hear Chopper in a scrambling like a lunatic to treat your wounds, drilling various medical devices for the others to fetch in his frenzy. Franky eventually returned to help fight, though hadn’t stayed with you long enough to answer the captain’s questions. The same occurred with Robin, as she’d only left Chopper after confirming the doctor would be capable of caring for you on his own. If they still wanted to get out of Enies Lobby alive, everyone had to be at the ready.

On deck with the others, both right and left hands of the crew snatched the captain up, forcibly stretching his body apart, morphing him into a flattened ejection site for incoming cannon fire. It was a clever means of reflecting the attacks back towards their senders, somewhat aiding in the resounding aggravation towards his immobility… Painful as all hell, though.

Immobile still, eventually, clear skies appeared with allies in tow… Allies: Meaning the entirety of Galley-La aboard an enormous galleon. Yet another circumstance that should’ve been celebrated, unfortunately catalyzing the opposite. 

The Going Merry, on its last legs, ruptured in half. Her forehead hit the galleon's stem, and the straw hat crew stood in stunned silence. Amidst the foreboding tune of groaning plywood, Ice-Pops reinforced the harsh reality; The Merry could not be fixed. Having been the one to discover and repair the boat for her last voyage, the mayor asserted this himself… ‘I want to sail one last time,’ is what she’d told him. 

It’d been decided since the beginning, when their arrival to Water 7 started to unravel at the seams. The captain had made the choice himself, though he regretted his decision back then to simply abandon her… It was time to say goodbye, yes, but they should give their friend a proper goodbye. After all she’d done for the crew, keeping them safe, repairing herself for everyone to continue their adventures; She deserved better. 

Nevertheless, Luffy wasn’t going to do that without you, and you’re still not awake. 

Sat on a stool beside your cot, much like a gargoyle in his eerie stillness, the boy watches over you. This is where he’d stayed… Silent, recalling all these events in his head – the specific memories, the broad imagery – Luffy’d gone through the motions enough where the beginnings of a headache were taking form. Although, it might’ve been there the whole time, going ignored in the face of the present. Every part of his body was hurting, and a migraine sure as hell wouldn’t be stopping him now.

He could move, of course, though there’d been some assistance in order to make it here; the medical ward of Galley-La’s ship. He’d since asked Chopper every question in the book about what was going on. 

According to the expert, you were ‘stabilized.’ That was good. Against all odds, you’d been stabbed in a non-lethal area of the torso (a practically impossible feat), and the doctor only had to perform minor surgery. On the downside, the primary issue was the amount of blood you’d lost. Luffy assumed you’d bled enough to cause concern, he’d felt it himself, yet Chopper explained to him the genuine severity of losing such a large volume at once. Safe to say, it was a miracle that you hadn’t encountered a seizure, or a coma, or most especially organ failure. 

Granted, those were no longer prominent issues. With an abundance of medical supplies at his disposal on the Galley La company’s ship, Chopper was quick to survey their group and determine who-had-what blood type. Robin was type S, as was Sniper King, and both jumped to volunteer for a blood transfusion. Strapping you with a needle attached to an IV bag, all they had left to do was wait. 

Luffy’s tired. No less than how he’d felt once the fight with Lucci was over. The captain hadn’t let himself be treated until he was completely sure that Chopper couldn’t use any of the supplies on you. Worn rubber limbs are screaming for respite, but he had to keep watch. If you moved too fast, strained too hard, then you risked reopening the stitches… Which, obviously meant more bleeding. 

You’re so pale, Luffy thinks to himself in the dim-lit atmosphere. Lifeless, but alive nonetheless… All he needed was to see your eyes open, if only to reassure that you were definitely alive, even when the bond confirmed it as fact. He was still here, staring at you, wasn’t he? 

Acrid, the rusted scent of crimson wafts over his pallet, and the scene replays. The boy had gone over it too many times to keep count. 

Rachel. He assumed it was her, anyway. You’d mentioned fighting her after the two of you separated. Thinking back on it, though, he recognized her from the red city; The blonde woman, pummeled into the dirt whilst trying to find you. If Luffy’d hit her a little harder, none of this would’ve happened. How was he supposed to know that she was a CP9 agent? 

He should’ve been there… He’d wanted to be there for your first fight out of the sheer excitement that it was you who’d be fighting – better yet, to serve as back up and fight with you – except, Luffy’s grandiose imagination hadn’t accounted for the worst case scenario. 

It burns him up from the inside that he’d let this happen, no matter how unwillingly. He’s supposed to be strong. 

Luffy isn’t certain of the last time he’d felt that helpless… The last time he’d felt that scared. One thing was for certain; If blondie ever crossed paths with them in the future, it would be on sight. 

Alone at this point, there were a few hours where the crew had spent the downtime waiting alongside him. Whilst everyone got patched up, there was a morose retelling of the series of events – most markedly Sanji’s deed of enabling their escape at the very end of the ordeal, having closed the Gates of Justice and causing a change in tide – Franky, too, had made quite the team member, having blasted away the Going Merry for a grand escape.

Beneath the surface of their storytelling, the tension is unmistakable. The crew was on edge, trapped between a rock and a hard place. There was you to worry about, yes, though there were also the marines. Nami posed a valid concern, putting up a fuss about giving the Merry her send off and then high-tailing it someplace safe. The marines could still be on their tail, a full-blown fleet with a vice-admiral to top it off, and there wasn’t a chance of the group beating them as they were now. Luffy told her they were staying put. Saying goodbye to the Going Merry wouldn’t be fair to you, nor the Merry herself. 

Nonetheless, the crowd wound up slimming over time. It was just you and him in the room–

Mrrreow…

Right. Not just him. 

Twitching pink nose, flicking ears, and a tail laid limply over one of Luffy’s arms – the other reason for which Luffy wants you to wake up is sprawled across his lap – Bones’ little head popping up from its dejected position. He cries at your unusual stillness, claws extending and fur spiking in a stretching stand, before tentatively prodding at the thin mattress. 

Sneaky, Luffy thinks. He’s had to stop the animal from jumping on top of you twice already. Bones didn’t really understand the whole ‘can’t rip the stitches’ part. 

“You can’t. I already told you.” Calloused hands come to scoop the kitten up by his belly, placing him back into the empty space of the captain’s lap. “You might hurt her more.” 

The pink in Bones’ ears vanishes as they lay flat along his skull, emitting a whining nose that rumbles the captain's palm. 

“Yeah, I get it…” Sitting here, you’re cast in the dim light as if you’ve already departed from this world. His heart squeezes in his chest, and he averts his gaze to the crown of the cat's head. “You had her all worried, y’know.” If only to fill the silence, Luffy continues to speak to Bones. At times the kitten would call back to him. “She thought you were…” 

Trailing off, his stomach curdles. 

Bones doesn’t pipe up, thus, the room descends back into desolate silence. Somber, regretful, the fact that you still aren’t awake plagues his soul… Literally. The stagnancy that flows between you, a total absence of emotion – of the slightest warble, without an inkling of how you’re feeling or dreaming – prompts an emptiness that Luffy doesn’t feel often. A vacancy, not unlike during Foxy Pirates. Not ‘removed,’ as it had been back then; attached, yet he couldn’t feel a thing. That was almost worse. 

Luffy’s jaw aches, unclenched for the umpteenth time, upset with the situation as a whole, not to mention himself… It wasn’t in his power to do anything, that much was clear. He gave it his all, that’s why he couldn’t move. 

(Rationalizing doesn't stop it from feeling more like an excuse than a reason.)

“Gotta get stronger still…” 

And he would. But, right now, Luffy just wants you to wake up. 

A sliver of light splices into the gloom like a beacon, the windows curtained to keep out any bright lights that might overstimulate or overwhelm when you awoke. The walls brighten for a moment, then the door creaks shut, and the shadows swallow him up.

“Any improvement?” 

Turning nothing but his head, Luffy discovers Robin, smiling kindly. She approaches with a gentle persona. 

“Hey, Robin.” The boy shakes his head, sharing a slight smile in return. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Not yet.” 

“I offered to check-in.” Stepping around the captain, treading softly, Robin’s smooth voice is a welcome break from the overbearing quiet. “Chopper mentioned her bandages may need changing.” 

Luffy hums, a signal for ‘go ahead,’ leaning forward to grab his hat from your lower torso, positioned over the wound. Finding the action endearing, Robin comes up beside him to do as she foretold. 

There’s no conversation, only shuffling sheets, joined thereafter by scraping bandages. Robin has to lift your shirt slightly in order to see them. 

Luffy can’t see any skin, just white, wrapped primarily around the spot of significance. Good – that it’s still white, he means, ‘cus the bleeding has stopped. You’d bled through bandage after bandage, enough to drive his limited adrenaline sky-high. 

Robin finishes, tucking you back into the thin covers. Luffy stretches to restore his hat to its place, expecting the archeologist to be on her way… Rather, she pulls up a stool of her own. 

There’s no necessity in looking at each other, a mutual understanding that they were there for you, therefore the focus would remain on you. Her joining of the solemn session isn’t awkward, nor does it change much on Luffy’s side of things. He simply settles back into the nothingness around him, not ignorant of Robin’s presence, yet not altogether aware of her. 

The silence draws on, seemingly endless. Luffy wonders if Robin misses your presence just as much as he does… Part of him doubts it. It had to be different. 

He hadn’t anticipated saying anything until that very thought popped into his brain. 

“I think I get it now.” 

Searching your face for a signal, there’s none. Again. 

“What you guys were telling me before, about (Y/n).” Continuing, his sights don’t stray. “You said… She’s more to me, than the others. I get that now.” 

Robin shifts, listening intently. It wasn’t typical for Luffy to be so downcast, mumbling in such a way that his words aren’t clear. Him being distraught was expected; and yet, judging by the admittance, perhaps it was in a greater significance than she’d presumed. 

“...How do I tell her?” Laying it all out on the table, Luffy feels like a weight is being lifted off his shoulders – an option made available to cope with – something to chase after. 

A handful of seconds come and go as Robin thinks it over. Silence rings. 

“...I can’t answer that for you, Luffy.” The archeologist encourages her captain with emphasis. “If that’s how you truly feel, then you should do what you feel is right.” 

That’s something you would say. It’s something you have said, not long ago; That these things shouldn’t be forced, they should be natural. 

Shifting through the comment like it’s a pile of finely-grained sand, Luffy deliberates. When you did wake up, you wouldn’t be aware of any of this. The boy would definitely have to explain, and if he gave himself free-reign, you’d open your eyes to him instantly telling you everything. That probably wouldn’t end well on your end, but he had to tell you, especially now given that he’d nearly lost you – and not for the first time, either. Every close-call up until this point had been brushed under the rug. In hindsight, those near-death experiences would’ve cost everything, and the captain wouldn’t have felt as he did now. He liked this feeling, loved this feeling. You would love it, too, so… Why didn’t that feel like the right choice? 

That would be his typical reaction for anyone else. That was natural. No grace to it, just a Luffy-like outburst of affection for those who’d gotten hurt – The best method, he’d found, to boost the mood of those recovering. All the same, you weren’t everyone else. While the thought of doing that with you was nice, it didn’t sit right with the captain. 

Proximity, conversation… He wanted those things, and what else? 

Withdrawing a breath, there’s a dull pang by his temple. He exhales with a hefty sigh, irritated. 

You needed to wake up soon so he could figure this out. 

—

Less than an hour later, Luffy and Robin remain on their stools, the former restless with indecision. The worn out muscles in his body disagree with sitting so still for too long, locking up over the extended period of disuse. On the other hand, should he move, the joints creaking like the decrepit spines of old books; muscle fibers akin to loose pages undone from their bindings. 

Sheets scrape – subtle, chalky – Luffy perks up, spying the hump of your arm gliding sluggishly beneath the thin fabric, back straightening. You stop, and he wonders if his senses are playing tricks on him. 

A breathy groan makes way through your throat, confirming his suspicions. Your legs shift, head lagging sideways, nose scrunching in discomfort. 

Revelling in the head rush, Luffy trails the moment with veiled elation, slow to accept the revelation. To his delight, there’s a lulled tempo – finally – thumping like a heartbeat, invisible, and in-time with his own. A panging slinks, weaving along the undercurrent for his awareness… You’re in pain, but alive. 

“I’ll get Chopper.” Up and out of her seat, Robin laid a hand to the captain’s shoulder. Luffy snaps out of it. 

He heaves from the spot, hurried movements unapologetically dumping Bones from his lap. Yowling its aggravation, the cat goes disheveled and unheard, similar to the stool clattering the floor. Knees slam hard, and the captain clambers to perch on his elbows beside your head.

“Hey,” Gruff, it’s more air than voice, an almost inconceivable huff of laughter breaking the syllable in two. Luffy reaches to swipe away the pieces of hair that tickle your face to cringe, where another resonating ache comes when you try moving your legs. “Stay still. Chopper said it’s probably gonna hurt for a while.” 

Twisting your neck, burying your face halfway into the plush of the pillow, a muffled groan emits. In spite of his advice, there's an instinct to writhe when you first wake up. Everything ached. 

“Can you hear me?” Luffy’s impatient, pushing for an answer. 

You can’t respond, only able to piece together some of his words. 

The door is left open by an inch. To his indiscretion, Luffy eagerly shouts at it’s opening; “Chopper!” 

Wincing, the obtrusion prompts your eyes to snap open, eyes watering. Your head throbs, arms stiff, ribs pinching… The entirety of your body is sore in ways you can’t describe, much less comprehend. Extremely lethargic, blinking fast enough to interpret as morse code, your first waking moment is the disorientating sight of your soulmate bathed in a halo of light. They flutter shut, blinded, not in full control of your actions. 

“...Luffy?” 

That breathy murmur of his name washes instant relief across his senses, and the first signs of a smile start to show. “Yea’, I’m here.” 

A shiver rakes down your skin, breath catching. 

“What…” You puff, your eyes sealed with a drawn-out frown, brain reduced to mush.

Crack!

The door slams open, wailing upon the wall so sharp that you startle. It’s Chopper, breathing hard in the middle of the doorway, flanked by the others. “Wh-What’s wrong? What happened?! I heard you call my name, and Robin–”

“She’s awake!” Luffy blithely relays, hand reaching to clasp yours when it rises from under the sheets, waving blindly, searching for him. It’s too difficult to keep your eyes open. 

“Wait…” Chopper blanks, mouth dropping into an ‘o’ as he registers it for himself. Tears bubble soon after, waving his little hooved hands around in relieved-happiness. The doctor sobs, momentarily forgetting his important, extremely relevant position as the ship's doctor; “R-Really?! (Y/n)’s awake? Thank goodness– I-I was so worried!” 

Therein entails a tearful reunion, and when Chopper takes the stand (after fussing over you for a solid ten minutes), he steps in beside Luffy to assess your health. The captain backs off slightly, letting the doctor do what he needs to do, wishing he’d held your hand a little while longer. 

A few initial tests are run – shining a flashlight in your eyes, having you repeat words, self-recalling acquired injuries, double-checking that there wasn’t anything amiss – all the while, the rest of the crew crowd the room. Even a few members from the Franky Family and Galley La appear to contribute well-wishes and congratulations. 

The mood is significantly uplifted, each crew member (or friend) sharing similar sentiments with Chopper;

“We thought you were a goner for sure! I almost wrung Luffy’s neck when we saw what happened to you–”

“My darling angel is finally awake!”

“Glad to see you alive and well, (Y/n)! Even I, the bravest of heroes, was rattled by such grave circumstances.”

“‘Least you made it out in one piece.”

“It’s super awesome to have you back, Shrimp!”

“I agree, you had all of us worried for quite some time.”

Within the next half hour or so, you’re sitting up, joining in on the conversation with sparse comments, nursing a glass of water. Everyone takes turns filling you in, loosely going through the chain of events that you’d missed, occasionally getting off topic. You’re deathly tired, Luffy can tell. You nod and smile along to their stories, yet your hands quake each time you go to raise the cup to your lips. Despite the ramifications of being bombarded so soon after waking, you’re gratified – at ease – especially so with Ivory purring, jovially headbutting any part of you that the kitten can reach when you aren’t actively petting him. As soon as you laid eyes on the animal, you started bawling. That was about twenty minutes ago. The sniffles refused to go away, stubborn to stay put as your eyes occasionally well-up at Bones persistence for affection.

Luffy is avidly aware of the side-effects from the medicine Chopper administered, gradually buzzing across your nerves with an alleviating, dizzying numbness. He’s held constant, acute focus over you throughout the ordeal… Moreover, he’s not speaking. Everyone notices, too. They don’t bother to point it out. 

Every once in a while you’ll meet his eyes, any attempts to keep focused on the conversation inevitably failing once you adhere to that natural pull; a silent gravitation that draws you to each other. There’s something unspoken, a need. For what, you aren’t sure, but you’re catching-on that there will be a resulting discussion because of it. 

As the only person in the room with extensive knowledge over the general wellness of a patient, Chopper also happens to be the only person who can get a good read on you (other than Luffy). The doctor gets effectively fed up, interrupted for the third time due to someone else's excitement, erupting into a shouting fit about how you needed rest, and that everyone being in the room wasn’t helping. 

Some of them grumble, others complain. In the end, all of them listen, trickling out the door as the doctor insists that you shouldn’t overexert yourself. There’s an abundance of rules and instructions in order to maintain the healing process; what to do, what not to do, when to change the bandages, how often the doctor will be monitoring you, highlighting the need for sleep (as you hadn’t genuinely slept, more-so had been forced to pass out), and a bunch of other crap that Luffy barely pays attention to. 

With the last warning given, the doctor clip-clops out of the room with mentions of your wound reopening if you were to stress it too much. The door swings, hinges squealing softly. Luffy’s on his feet before it’s fully closed. 

Reaching the cot in three long steps, the captain plops down, draws close, and you’re pulled into him without a say. Arms envelope. Smothering, though delicate, he doesn’t want to risk breaking you. 

Over the many, many hours spent apart – adding those few spent together – doubtless, a longing has been stacked to the heavens. Both of you all but melt into each other, yearning for this exact moment to pass, burdened by pent up emotion and spent energy. Anchored in his hold like it’s the last action Luffy will ever take, the nudge of his head against yours prompts contented sighs. Your eyes drift to a close. 

Ivory, caught in the middle, was thoroughly squished. Grumbling, not exactly in the mood to share, he ultimately falls quiet.

Luffy’s warm. Always warm. 

My fingers press into the skin of his chest, sliding like velvet along the curve of his neck to return the hug. They catch on cottony, sporadically wrapped bandages, plucking at the frayed edges. 

Another shiver, adjusting to the altered temperature of his body heat, your arms buckle, frigid fingertips tapping gently. Unaffected, Luffy gazes down at the wrinkled sheets over your shoulder as the reaction runs its course. His sights trail to his straw hat, situated by your side, tipped from your torso earlier when you sat up. 

A bitter whiff interrupts his peace. This close, the metallic scent of copper clogs his nose. Sickly-sweet, and permanently dried to your shirt. 

The horrible memories flash – you, laying in a pool of your own blood on the marble. 

“You almost died again.” Monotonous, he squeezes closer, stopping midway once he remembers you can’t twist or tense. “Could feel it… Was like last time, in the fortress place.” 

Heavy-laid in our midst, every emotion is raw; cycling through long-lasting impressions of reluctance, sorrow, guilt, regret… It’s suffocating, contrary to his flat affect. 

Doped up on meds with a heart that aches, spurts of forlorn compressions clash with the imperceptions of my own ailments. It’s confounding, to say the least. Worried, groggy, I’m unsure of what to say for a long while, tongue-tied. 

“I’m okay…” Reassurance is best. “Promise.”

“Yeah, I know.” Luffy grumbles, delving to push his nose under your jaw. You can make out the shape of his words as they hit your neck. “But you almost weren’t.”

Right… I’d almost died. How odd that this was only hitting me, now. 

Apparently, Luffy must get the gist of what I’m thinking. He sighs, the gentle tickle coercing a shuddering fit, providing ample distraction. My heart jets into my throat. He’s incredibly touchy; More than I’m used to, and not nearly in typical fashion. 

Prodding at my pulse point with his nose, Luffy doesn’t pipe up with anything else.  

“Um… Are… Are you okay?” Everything between us is all twisted, too much at once and nothing to hook onto. 

Quiet. Nothing. That, too, wasn’t like him. 

“Luffy?” Worried, the utterance tilts sideways. Had something else happened while I was out?

“Yeah, m’okay, too.” Sighing forcefully, it’s as if he’s expelling trapped air. The captain retreats, sobered eyes meeting mine. “This isn't about me, though.” 

Right. I’d almost died.

Not smiling, or frowning, Luffy’s just… Watching. I’m lost on what he might be waiting for. An apology? But, he hated it when I apologized… 

Lack of conversation draws on long enough that self-consciousness inundates my brain in spirals. The unspoken tension makes it almost awkward, another unusual attribute while in my soulmate's presence. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

Out of nowhere, he changes the subject. I blink up at him, utterly bewildered, an overimagined pressure preventing any sort of reply. Naturally, I assume the worst, and set out to lift away from his hold– 

Luffy isn’t a fan. Rough fingers shoot out to wrap at your forearm, putting a stop to your actions, scarcely started. 

Only once he figures you won’t try moving again does his grip slacken. “When you were gone, I figured somethin’ out… Was gonna tell you when the fight was over.” 

“Man– I can’t believe I forgot! I gotta tell you somethin’, too! Can I go first?” 

“After she stabbed you, I was really scared… That’s why I’m sure of it, now.” All thinned lips and bent eyebrows, his honesty is both brutal and touching; a struggle to digest. “You're different.” 

“I’m…” Lagging in understanding, I pause, ensuring I’m not interrupting anything else while scanning all over his face. I’d hoped that what he said would relieve me of my anxieties… To my dismay, all he’s done is make things more confusing. ‘Different’ how? ‘Different’ as in physically? As in forever changed by being stabbed? Was me being ‘different’ a bad thing? “I’m… Different? I-I don’t…” 

At your shaking head, eyes pleading for extra information, Luffy’s face lifts with an obscure smile. He can’t help but laugh at you a little – of all the times to be clueless, now was when you were completely oblivious? You normally picked up on this stuff right away… Maybe he should’ve waited a little longer? 

Nah. He never backed out of anything he said, no point in starting now. 

“I’m saying you’re different than everyone else.” 

Reinforcing himself, the amused captain searches for some form of understanding to show itself on your face. Instead, you shake your head once more; a jerky motion that conveys a fretful mind. 

“A good different.” He adds quickly in assurance. “Being with the crew isn’t the same as being with you.” 

“Luffy…” Stuttering, gaping like a fish, this is all becoming very overwhelming. His words are doing gymnastics in my head, ducking and diving over each other, nonsensical. Why was he suddenly speaking in riddles? “N-No, I don’t…”

“I get why you’re mine.” 

At once, the foot stamped over the gas pedal of my brain slams both heels on the brakes. Whatever I planned to do or say next – forgotten in an instant. 

Mine.

He’d never said it like that before.

The vessels of my heart give out, finding myself detrimentally breathless. Has the world stopped revolving? Gravity seems to have lost its hold. 

Recollecting myself takes eons, and careful steps. 

It comes first in scattered glances. I must appear as if I’m playing connect the dots across his face, scrutinizing for the finer details, despite an uncooperative mind. No changes, no faltering – Until Luffy smiles that big, charming grin. 

Flummoxed, the ba-bump, ba-bump, returns at the pace of a jackrabbit. Armed with a heart restarted, there’s no tell on Luffy’s expression that gives away an answer to the incomprehensible paradox at hand. 

There was no way that Luffy was implying what I thought he was implying. I was misinterpreting. This had to be the result of my frazzled, lovestruck, hopeful mind; jumping the gun, selfishly pushing my ideals onto his claims–

Mine.

Y’know what they say about denial…

But… Luffy’d never once acknowledged us as more than friends! Soulmates? Sure. Anything past that? Nada. Zilch. Perhaps he acted in ways akin to ‘more’ than friends, though it was always without a label. 

If this was true… If it was real, then I had to be sure – one-hundred percent sure – one-thousand percent – that I wasn’t deluding myself right now. 

Sensing the unfurling perplexity, simultaneously witnessing the dilemma spread across your dazed expression, Luffy never breaks sight from your prying eyes. Just as Robin had mentioned in the past, taking things too fast with you wouldn’t be optimal, speaking on your behalf… And yet, explaining things like this wasn’t quite scratching the itch. He wants to do something else, something better than just talking, in order to prove his point. 

Your lips part slightly, as if to speak. He tracks the movement like a hawk. 

My heart sputters – no fucking way. 

Lips clamp shut, though Luffy hasn’t looked away, eyes widening a fraction at the lightning-strike of an idea. The thought spurs his pulse to a degree that he questions the activation of Second Gear against his will. 

Laughing openly, antsy with anticipation, his smile broadens. “I didn’t know how to tell you for a while, but I just got an awesome idea!” 

Scooting closer, one arm loops behind you, the other’s palm pressing into the mattress beside your thigh, caging. You’re flicking circles over his face – eyes first, then lips, then back to eyes – unsure of what to do with yourself, although you clearly have some cognizance over what’s about to happen. 

Neurons running laps at the speed of light, unaware, my body instinctively leans further back; Defying the warmth rising to my face, excitement flipping in my stomach.

“It’ll be fun, promise.” Chuckling, Luffy doesn’t relent, chasing after you. He can feel it, too – a thrill hurriedly bounding through his chest. “C’mere.” 

The words touch your parted lips. One, final moment to process what’s happening, with a heart beating so fast it could burst–

Rocking forward to close the gap, the inch-or-so between you is covered in half a second. 

All function is lost. 

Our lips touch, and all systems go down; the internet's lost; the record stops playing; However the saying goes, my entire body shuts off. Eyes blown wide, inches away from Luffy’s own for those eternal seconds, there’s a string of wtf wtf wtf, mixed in with a cluster of omg omg omg–

He pushes closer, fervent once there’s no sign of pulling away. Clumsy, inexperienced, both of us sway into the movement as I careen backwards against the unexpected force. Shock strips away, the surge bringing all focus to the soft press of his lips on mine… And it’s here where my eyes finally close. 

Your limbs are noodle-like, hands shakily landing at Luffy’s shoulders, seeking stability. At this, the captain grins. You feel it – him. You feel everything. 

Almost addictive, the composition of your mind, your body – the essence making up everything beyond physical means – irrevocably surrenders to his. A kite, taken by the wind on a sunny beach… A rose’s petals, falling from the stem, brushing against another’s skin… Unlocked, unburdened, and achingly together. Manifested energies hum, melding together like warm clay. The very air itself shimmers, oscillating with the coalescence of souls. 

Markedly, it’s a connection that can never be undone… That, alone, is devastatingly exhilarating. 

As the headrush dwindles, the world returns to normalcy, settling back into a calm. What was only a handful of seconds have extended into minutes – maybe more than that – nevertheless, neither of you can resist regaining consciousness, parting lips with a subtle, sticky smack. 

If magic existed in this world, or the one before it, then it existed purely within the bonds of soulmates.

Luffy’s faster on the uptake, laughing under his breath, the smile on his face widening as the sensation parts his psyche, and the realization of a new experience kicks in. His lazy gaze never parts from yours; half-lidded, dreamlike, and heart-eyed. 

Staring at each other, corresponding on a level previously unknown, I find my resolution. No amount of research, no amount of investigation, dreams or desires, could align with this moment. Those were pitiful acts of mimicry, impossible to replicate; inquire; expect; imagine. 

I’d never once found solace in anything other than Luffy… Now, it was irrefutable. 

This was where I belonged… That’s all I’d ever wanted. 

Moisture builds up on my waterline, stinging the swollen skin. Lips trembling, Luffy’s face blurs, and the trance disperses. 

As you battle yourself, rapidly blinking to hold the tears at bay, the captain senses the tirade of you pouring into his psyche, and he laughs. Things were definitely different, now; anticipating your tears from a mile away, he simply knew that it was going to happen, nothing else to it. 

When the first one drips free, Luffy’s already snatching up your face in his palms and leaning back into you, thumbs messily smearing away the wetness. It’s as uncoordinated as the first time, an unnecessarily mind-boggling second kiss that has you grasping at his arms for purchase. Tears cease, deliberate, returning with a vengeance once it clicks that you’re kissing once again, decidedly pouring down your face in a steady stream. A quick press – a ‘peck,’ though the meaning would be unknown to him – and Luffy departs once more. 

I hiccup, head swirling. Having been strung in and out of a drug-like state, I’m almost expecting to be drawn into another kiss… Scratch that, I want him to, overwrought with emotion as I may be. If he chose to kiss me over and over right now, I think I’d quite literally self-destruct. God, one could only hope. 

Nonetheless, when Luffy moves this time I’m dragged into his arms – smushed to the bandaged section of his chest. With a rumbling chuckle into my palms, dry skin snags on the fine fibers holding him together. They dampen quickly, fat water droplets slipping to drip from my nose and chin, breath hitching as sobs catch between the gaps of my ribs. 

Unfortunate as it may be, remaining in that position isn’t viable – A pulse of agony rips through my torso, and Luffy detaches the moment I jerk backwards to correct the sensation. 

“Oh, shit– They didn’t open, did they?” The captain promptly follows after you, hands at your sides as he eyes your lower torso, the slightest bit worried to find a newly-made patch of blood. “I kinda forgot about ‘em for a second… Sorry” 

Stiffly shaking my head, sniffling, the feeling dissipates. I ease my shoulders on the wall. There is some moisture, some heat… I wait, and it doesn’t spread, so I suppose it’s fine. “N-No, I… I don’t think so.” 

“You sure?” 

I nod, wiping a palm across my splotchy cheeks, collecting the dripping liquid at my jawline; not ashamed… Flustered, more-like. On a positive note, the tears had all but evaporated at the frightening strike of pain, my nervous system turmoiled by such a fleetingly altered emotional state. 

“Good.” Long fingers make their way back to the previous mission, replacing mine to finish up the job. “Hey… You gonna cry every time I do that, or what?”

Hands return to their owner. Luffy maneuvers to the space beside you, opting to sit as close as possible so that he might avoid making the same mistake twice (no promises, though). 

“No…” I defend weakly, though it’s blatantly clear that I’m not confident in the answer. To be fair, he had essentially just dropped an atomic bomb on me out of absolutely nowhere. “I-I’m just… Um…” 

“A crybaby?” 

“Luffy! M’not–” 

“Yeah, yeah,” The boy laughs, grabbing up his hat to place it into its rightful spot. “Just didn’t want you to get stuck or something.” 

Mustering up the meagerest of glares, I can’t look at his face for too long. Heat rises, avoiding him as I stare across the room. All he does is giggle. 

“So, you liked it?” Luffy prods, leaning closer into my personal bubble, even though he already knows the answer. 

“Mhm…” Rosy cheeked, I force my sight to stay averted. “Yea… I did.” 

“Sweet! So that means we’re dating now, right?” 

You perk up, enticed by the mention, convincing enough to return your attention. Sheepish, your voice is quiet, face tinted pink. “...Do you wanna?” 

“Well, duh. That’s why I asked!” Snickering, Luffy uses the opportunity to crowd closer, still – hovering dangerously close. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

“I mean, I do… But…” Shooting him a curious eye, I furrow my brow, hesitant to ask. Luffy tended to jump first, think later – what if he still misunderstood that this was something of a game-changer? “Do you actually get what that means, now?” 

“Yup! I told you already, it means you’re mine, and I’m yours.” Rolling my arm to reveal the soulmate mark, he displays his as well, pointing to our respective names. “See? That’s why we’re soulmates.”

Mine. Yours. 

Good lord. 

Impossibly twitchy, I’m near catatonic, nodding along as if tranquilized. Head swimming, the calligraphic, inky patterns swirl in the dim. For some reason, it dawns on me that the scrawled words have been fulfilled, in a sense – a destiny set from the beginning, now conquered – and my mind drifts off to relive our first kiss, and the one after that. 

“Can we…” Do it again? 

My tongue betrays me, revealing my internal thoughts without authorization. I bite down hard, floundering for another option to finalize my question, though nothing comes to mind… Playing it off cool is not my forte. 

“U-Um, I, uh… I was just–” 

A bout of laughter intrudes, cutting off whatever poor excuse I was about to create. Luffy is positively cracking up, nearing full-on belly laughter. Baffled by such an uproar, his amusement filters through the drugs in my system, as does the meaning behind it; With a thoroughly reddened complexion, I realize why he’s laughing so damn hard. 

Luffy knows exactly what you want. Luckily for you, no matter how silly your hesitation might be, he’s keen to deliver. 

Dialing back, the captain resorts to the occasional giggle. Maneuvering into a position that’s facing you isn’t too arduous a task for him, aiming for an even mixture of comfortability and ease of access; curving around to place his hand on the opposite side of you, just as he’d done prior. After some shuffling around, he’s satisfied with the placement. 

Your heart is ramming against your sternum, just as it had the first time around. Holding your breath, Luffy descends, and–

“Hey, I came to check up on–” The door swivels, Chopper re-entering the room, only to freeze at the sight of you two on the cot together. Luffy’s blank-faced, you’re near to passing out of embarrassment, and Ivory sits in the open doorway with a smug swish of his long tail. 

Shit.

“Luffy! What the heck are you doing?!” Dismissing the scene as a whole, the doctor is more focused on Luffy’s disregard for the careful rules he’d set in place. The position means nothing to him – he is an animal, after all. “I told you– You can’t strain (Y/n), if you do, her condition might worsen!” 

“But, (Y/n) and I were kissing! Just a couple more minutes–” 

“You weren’t supposed to… W-Wait– What?!” 

“Luffy!”

“What? You wanted to do it again, didn’t you?” 

“Whatever, that doesn’t matter! What matters is (Y/n)’s health, so shut up and get off the cot, Luffy!” 

—

This chapter was heavily, heavily inspired by the song Look After You by The Fray. When I first imagined this chapter, it was while listening to this song, and I spent hours and hours listening to it afterwards going over every detail lol.

<33

Leaning my full body weight against the door, dealing with the knob turns out to be no easy feat. For a moment, I consider that it may be stuck, metal corroded by the salty air. In reality I was simply lacking strength. Aches and pains made my joints creaky, especially when supporting muscles thin as paper. 

I’d teetered my way down the stairs like a puppet on faulty strings, a solid few minutes surely wasted in the process. Wasted time or not – forced to either take it slow, or throw myself down the stairs as Rachel did – the choice was obvious. No need to gain more injuries in some catastrophic rush. 

Still, I’ve managed to get here… And Luffy was on the other side of this door. 

Rocks knock at the solid wood. Wrapped tight around my arm is one of the bolas, awkward and pinching as rough fibers rub wrongly against skin. Weapon-turned-tourniquet in an attempt to stop the bleeding of my gouged arm, learning the skill from Chopper had really come in handy; It was working, lessening blood flow enough where the wound could clot, although here and there I felt the occasional lines of sticky crimson dribbling to my fingertips… Better than nothing.

Gripping hard, hands weak, I wrench my trembling wrist to the side. The doorknob squeaks, the wood creaks. There’s an added pressure behind, blocking the way, making the door a-thousand times heavier. Without a shadow, or any other tell, I couldn’t discern what might’ve been blocking it. I know Luffy is in there now, but who knows what’d happened since I left. Was it obstructed with debris? Was the door just broken? 

I guess there’s only one way to find out. 

A huff – a deep breath – bracing for whatever might be on the other side – I lift my rested shoulder, turn the handle, and then drop myself back onto the wooden surface – a humanized-battering-ram. 

The bottom of the door scrapes against the granite…

Splash!

I fell right through the opening, the door opened a little easier than predicted. 

Water. The room is flooded with it. Lapping at my wrists, enveloping my hands in a chill, the blood washes from my skin. A delicate current smooths around my figure, racing from the room, flowing towards the newly established exit. 

It’s cold. I raise my hands and dripping seawater slides down my arms, into the gashes. The resulting shock is swift, striking like a lightning bolt over my nerves, all the way up to my shoulder blades. 

Frozen to stone for a moment, the pain catches up to my brain, registering with a hitched gasp. Then the arm is retrieved, drawn in as it seizes and I fight to breathe through the burning sensation of my wounds being brined. 

“(Y/n)?” 

Luffy has to do a double take when he turns towards the sudden splash, stunned to find you crumpled there in a heap. 

Name blurted with the expectation of an immediate response, the expectation isn’t met. Once you finally do look at him, there’s a sluggishness representing your poor constitution, bleary-eyed and grimacing. 

Sights scan once, twice– The boy's breathing stutters, throat flimsy and grated. You’d gone out that door with only a few wounds, only to come out of it as if you’d been mauled.

For the first time, Pigeon Guy would have to be put on the backburner. The CP9 agent had already made a big show of leaving, smashing a hole through the wall to cause the flood and fleeing higher up into the tower. Such an attempt was made in order to rattle the captain in the midst of battle, casting a foreboding sense over him with the possibility of his crew currently making their way through the underwater tunnels, now at the risk of drowning.

Water steadily pooling to the captain's ankles, he couldn’t afford to worry about any of that. He would have to trust the others to take care of themselves; Pigeon Guy had to be handled, or else there was no chance of everyone getting out of here. That was up to Luffy to handle. 

He scans a third time, trapped in a stupor. Luffy’s never seen you covered in this much blood before.

This wasn’t nearly the same. You were here, right in front of him. Eyes rubbed raw, half-lidded – blinking at him as if he’s some kind of mirage. There was no way the captain was gonna leave you here on your own to continue his fight. 

Swaying gently, you begin shivering in the freezing water. Luffy’s heart skips, lurching with late-urgency, the rush purging him of shock and pushing his legs to move forward. “(Y/– (Y/n)–” 

Water splashes over you as he gets nearer, causing you to flinch back. Stumbling to his knees, the boy raises his hands to embrace you, only to pause. He isn’t sure where to put them. You’re so battered, bruised and bleeding that his fingers hover uselessly, twitching in the air. 

Hesitating, Luffy traces the outline of your body in search of a proper landing space – discovering none that he’s comfortable pursuing – eyes popped wide as they take in the state of you. Your arms, your legs… There’s way more to notice up-close like this, and every new detail makes his stomach sink further into his legs. 

Cradling your arm, favoring one side… You tilt your sagging gaze, pupils wide and wavering as they meet the pin-pricks within his own. Somehow, blood has found itself splattered over one of your cheeks, and Luffy senses the worry manifest itself into anger.

“What the hell happened?!” Luffy gruffs, seething, searching the open hallway behind you for whoever might’ve caused this. There’s no one. 

Focusing on Pigeon Guy meant that Luffy hadn’t had the time or ability to keep tabs on you. During particularly intense moments, he was aware of your struggles shining through his thoughts, which is the whole reason why he’d sent Franky after you. Yet, the captain could never have imagined any of that amounting to this. He had to focus – he had to, or he’d lose – still, seeing you like this really sucks. 

Guaranteed, Luffy was in no better condition than you, right now. Using Second Gear had him significantly worse for wear, not to mention everything else that Pigeon Guy had thrown at him. His muscles are screaming at him to stop pushing as hard as he is, body on the verge of giving out, resolution serving as his sole motivator. 

“It’s foolish to believe that only one guard has been employed for such an important prisoner. Not to mention, (L/n) is a wanted criminal herself.” 

The agent had said that not long after Franky’d gone after you on the captain's word. So, there was another agent waiting up there for you this whole time? Was that who beat the crap out of you? 

As crimson swirls in the water around you, Luffy’s pulse spikes. He’s pissed, and his opponent is still waiting for him upstairs – looming, watching, waiting, and impatient.

The exact moment where Luffy’s hand finds a suitable home at your side, you fall into him like a ragdoll. He’s quick to gather you closer, and never once do you let go of your arm. 

Right there, plus a spot on one side of your ribs. Those hurt the most.

Carefully grabbing your fingers, he peels back the limb… Macerated flesh gapes up at him; A glimpse of mangled shreds, soon hidden from him again as you choke, yanking away with a guttural-whine. 

Gaze flying to your face, he feels the hot flashes – a searing pain which flies up his arm in tandem with yours. Tears bubble over your waterline, other hand clasping at the wrist in a desperate act to ground yourself in order to make the pain stop.

“Damn it,” Mumbling, the captain drags you forward, pulling to where you sit more over his thighs than in the water. He surrounds you for a second, holding still, arms wound all around… The contact doesn’t soothe you very effectively despite its success in the past, and he has no idea why. 

He’s absorbing your very being to find a reason, like a sponge. The exhaustion is staggering. Just how much blood had you lost?

Boom! Boom!!

Water dampens his shorts, the level steadily rising. Luffy stays in his position until he feels you going lax. The timer was getting close. 

Curving an arm around your back, hooking under your knees, Luffy lifts off the ground with a strained grunt, body arguing the added weight. You still haven’t responded to him. You haven’t said anything. 

“Why didn’t you go with Franky?” Luffy has to ask, oddly calm. Trudging through seawater that’s climbed to his knees, he makes his way to the middle of the room. You’re pressed to his front as if he’s the only source of warmth in the midst of a winter storm.

“I just… Couldn’t…” Is all you respond with, shifting – uncomfortable even in his arms. “Rachel was up there, n’ I had to fight her, or…”

Rachel. He remembers you saying that name. 

“You won, though… Right?” That was the one good thing about this scenario. Luffy stares up into the top of the building, irritation as palpable as the tiredness in his figure. “And I don’t get why you didn’t stay with Franky. It’d be safer for you with him.” 

“Mhm.” A soft nod. You peer up beneath Luffy’s chin, wondering where his attention has taken him, conveying your intent like admitting a sin. “The bridge got destroyed… He was already with Robin, and… I-I didn’t know where else to go.”  

“It’s fine.” Final in tone, he responds to your solemn response with cautious, squeezing fingers. “Makes sense.”

Sure, you’d interrupted the battle, but it’s not like it was your fault. You didn’t have a choice, even if coming to him was as smart of a plan as it was a stupid one. For you, Luffy was the safest person; It just so happened that he was currently engaged in the most dangerous situation. 

“Okay… But if you’re coming with me, you gotta stay outta the way, cus’ I’m not done with this guy yet.”

Nodding a second time, you turn into the cloth of his vest – soaking up whatever solace you can, while you can. “I can try.” 

“Good. Cus’ Pigeon Guy will probably kill you if you don’t.”

Well, that’s uplifting. 

Shuffled into an odd, one-armed hold, I have to close my eyes against the dizzying motion of Luffy reeling us up the tower's expanse. The stabilization I’d anticipated from the reconnection with my soulmate is incredibly faint… Basically nonexistent. Were we both so far past the limit that there wasn’t any energy left to borrow? Was that how it worked? It’s a worrisome fact that I can’t waste dwelling over. 

“What a surprise.” Jeering, Lucci’s voice smooths through the air – a mocking coo – in spite of the heavy breathing between each sentence. “(L/n) (Y/n), in the flesh.” 

Enduring his presence causes my skin to freeze over. Gaze drawn by the broad, hunching figure of a man – Lucci – who’s activated his devil fruit. A long, feline tail flicks with amusement behind his back, dark eyes piercing through my skin.

His form is different from Rachels, as the bottom half of his face still appears human… This didn’t make him any less scary, of course.

“She’s not part of this.” Luffy glares, tone risen with warning. “This is between us, not her.” 

“Then she shouldn’t be here.” Lucci rebuttals whilst locking gazes with me, Luffy sidestepping to the farther reaches of the room. “Though I assume your appearance means you must’ve beaten her, correct?” 

I say nothing, stomach tying itself into knots. 

“Why the hell does he always look at me like that?!”

“Of course she lost against such a weak opponent. I expected nothing less from such a useless woman.” 

The word-choice strikes a nerve, Rachel’s twisted expression still fresh in my mind. 

Luffy, clueless, pipes up; “What woman?” 

“...He’s talking about Rachel.” Without my frustration I wouldn’t have been able to respond – words small, yet dripping with sentiment – a hatred born from disgust. “She’s his soulmate.”

The pointed emphasis seems to land as I’d hoped. Lucci sneers at me, lips twitching downward, clearly not amused by the unwanted moniker. 

Jaw dropping, Luffy gapes at Lucci as if the man’s grown another head. “This guy has a soulmate, too?” 

In full agreement, I hope my soulmate can feel the resonating dissatisfaction as he sets me down near a pile of crates. They cluster around the outer edges of the room; objects that held potential for a makeshift shield, though I had my doubts about them defending against someone such as Lucci. 

“She requires more discipline.” Reaffirming his previous statement, Lucci’s voice pronounces more than mine. “If she cannot live up to the expectations of being a part of this established group, then she is not fit to be by my side.” 

“That’s all she wants– To be by your side!” Surprising even myself, I find myself defending Rachel without hesitation. She was crazy, yes… But, Lucci couldn’t even bring himself to say her name. “Is it that terrible to expect from your own soulmate…?”

And he merely scoffs, “Soulmates are nothing but parasites. There is no other purpose for them in this world than to leech off of their destined partners. You will see it for yourself when Straw Hat fails, and then you will be the reason behind his inevitable demise.”

There’s nothing veiled about the threat. After everything, he could prove worthy of being the one to make my nightmares come true.

I swallow thick, restless on the tile where I kneel, an inexplicable urge to hide behind the boxes beside me–  

“You’re wrong.” 

Reinforced, Luffy’s words are like steel. I can’t see his expression at all. The captain steps forward, fully blocking my view of Lucci’s daunting shape. 

He’s not your opponent. 

“Soulmates aren’t like that at all.” Like a reprimand, Luffy never falters once in earnestness. “I could care less about what you think of yours, but (Y/n)’s mine, and I’ve never considered her as any of those things.” 

My heart flips over itself, a lurching sensation that sparks across my insides. The want to swoon clashes with the urge to cry, and before I know it I’m staring at his blurry figure in a dumbed-out haze.

As for Luffy, defending you was second nature. More importantly, it was only a matter of time before the marines outside completely destroyed this place. With all other matters cast aside, the captain makes his way to the center of the room. 

“Now, I’m not taking my focus off you. We’re not finished yet.” 

The snide grin on Lucci’s face vanishes for a moment… Then, it returns, widened with a sinister aura. 

Fingers curl into fists, cracking in the tense silence, and Luffy lowers his gait. He would see this through. 

No matter what it takes. 

—

It was like sitting on the other side of the fence as the butcher reigned in his cattle for slaughter – forced to stay-put, all the while my soulmate was getting his ass absolutely handed to him. 

Nervewracking enough, the fight had reached the extent where I’d genuinely considered that Luffy might lose. That feeling hadn’t surfaced since the start… Since Skypiea, when the boy defeated Eneru. I’d always thought, in terms of fighting, Luffy would be undefeated. Yet, with Lucci punting the captain off the walls, bashing and batting the boy like a cat playing with its favorite toy, the rising doubt was irrefutable. 

Experiencing the repercussions as they echoed from his body to mine, I was afraid. Even though Luffy was avoidant of his ailments, there was no denying that he’d been steadily approaching a breaking point – I could feel it – the boy fighting with everything he had because it was the only way he could continue to bounce back. Any time he retaliated, it was pure agony. 

The turnaround, or the start of it, came from Luffy’s elaborate use of Third Gear: smashing through half the building with a fist twenty times the size of what he'd originally used in the tunnels. Lucci was sent flying from the tower, launched across the ocean to land on a marine warship. Luffy gave chase, and I was left to my own devices, losing sight of him for a while after that. 

I’d been caught in an anxious spiral, then – unable to decide if I should take a course of action, or settle for none at all – ever conscious of my inability to move, I’d never felt more out of place for this sort of experience. 

Luffy and Lucci returned, setting off alarm bells at the recognition that the former had shrunk down to the size of a small child (the side-effect of using his abilities, which I’d forgotten until that critical moment). I’d clawed at one of the boxes beside me, dithering over a fierce conflict of getting up to help, held captive by Luffy’s past instructions insisting I don’t interfere. 

Within moments I was being shouted at with stern reprimands for me to “stay down!” It didn’t make sense how he’d noticed, but he did. 

All torn up about it, I wanted to ignore the command – In the end, my aching legs made the decision for me. So, there I sat, staying slumped to the floor, gritting my teeth. There was zero chance of being a contender in this fight, anyway… Trusting Luffy was my only reasonable responsibility. 

Back to usual size, never before had I ever felt my soulmate so tired and hurting. One last activation of Second Gear had to be enough to win this. 

The boy pulled out all the stops, and Lucci returned the effort tenfold, calling forth an all-out attack; the ‘six king pistol.’ It put Luffy’s already debilitated body through further hell, similar to an impact dial, only amplified a hundred times over. 

Now, imagine that kind of pain, but if someone had used it on you without a moment of respite. Over and over, the agent neverending onslaught of agony brought blood to Luffy’s lips… No end in sight, humiliatingly at Lucci’s mercy. 

The boys – our crew – had appeared shortly after this point to rally their captain, uplifting his spirits with the promise that they were all up on the bridge and ready to leave when he was. It was the guaranteed outcome which we’d all hoped for. All he had to do was beat Lucci, and it would be over. 

They’d step away; Luffy, reinvigorated, would fight with all the resounding might from within… 

But, it’s not enough. After a failed attempt at knocking Lucci down with a jet-gatling, another six king gun is fired straight into Luffy’s torso. 

He falters, rolling forward. A hand touches the ground, weakly propping him upright… He sways, unsteady on his feet…

And Luffy falls. 

Steam pouring from his skin, the pink glow on Luffy’s skin disperses. Lucci, stock-still, looms over the captain's body without a word. The leopard man is breathing too heavy to speak. 

Flat on the ground, his cheek pressed against the dusty, cool surface of the floor, the exhaustion finally catches up to Luffy. He’s out of juice, body wrecked to such an extreme degree – it’s as if he’d had a building dropped on top of him. Eyelids hang low, those dark coals glazed over and staring at the floor.

Horrified, I mouth his name without a proper voice, hands sliding from their perch. My soulmate’s orders be damned, I’m setting out to crawl towards him. At least, my body is trying to… Meanwhile, my mind struggles to accept the scene, my limbs locking up in bizarred stress. 

Futilely about to throw myself into harm's way, a voice calls out– 

“Luffy! Get up!”

–not mine. 

“Do you hear me?!”

It’s Usopp. 

The real Usopp, this time. Not Sniper King. 

Luffy’s head shifts to the figure that stands on the bridge, hazy and uncoordinated. “Usopp… I didn’t know… You were here, too,” the captain wheezes. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea– I just came here to rescue Robin! That’s it, all right? I didn’t come here to see you, or your stupid face!” 

Bitterness laces his tone, like a child sucking on a sour lemon. The criticism splits the solemn air, ripping everyone into a new atmosphere… Everyone in the room resets, in a way. 

Eyes trailing to the red cape billowing in the wind, Usopp lays his new green-slingshot across his shoulders, puffing his chest. 

“Hey, you! Boss cat of CP9!” 

Lucci barely turns his head at the summons. 

“Yeah, I’m talking to you! From here on out, I’m your opponent! Bring it on!” 

Bewildered, my jaw drops, closes, and drops again. I want to shout at him – for bringing up him and Luffy’s beef at such an imprudent moment, for putting himself in harm's way out of spite– 

“That’s right! If you mess with Robin, then you mess with me!”

Still, words won’t work. What the hell was he doing? 

“Now don’t be surprised when I say this– I’m the great Captain Usopp, a pirate among pirates, the great warrior of the sea who has 8,000 men under his command! I’ve destroyed island over island, wreaking havoc everywhere I go! Anyone who falls into my hands… Even you guys– The World Government, will be crushed by the tip of my little finger! Now come up here and fight me if you’ve got the guts– Or are you just a scaredy cat?!” 

He’s bluffing. That was Usopp’s specialty. This time, he had to have known he was signing his own death certificate. 

I watch Lucci’s eyelids twitch, and terror stacks; The ragebait is efficient… Hook, line and sinker. Tail swishing behind him, Lucci turns to Usopp, and advances at a leisurely pace. 

“No… No, wait– Hey– Hey don’t!” One eye closed, even speaking steals the breath from Luffy’s lungs. “You leave him alone! This is between you and me!”  

“You’ve already lost.” The man doesn’t turn around. “I have no business with you. They’re all gonna be killed anyway, you just stay there and watch.” 

“All right, come on, boss cat! I’m gonna take you out!” 

The captain shifts – a cough, and blood coats his tongue. “Are you stupid? Stop it, Usopp! He’ll kill you!” 

“You shut up! What the hell are you gonna do about it, huh? You’re almost dead!” 

“He’s mine! I’m gonna kick his ass all over the place!” 

“Then get up already! Show ‘em what you’re made of!” 

I get it, now. 

Sputtering breaths – stuttering limbs– 

An unbearable heat spreads under his skin – and Luffy starts to get up. 

“Stop lying around talking and bleeding like you’re about to die!”

Quivering lips and trembling tones, Usopp stands proud, choking on the fear of his friend– His friends, being lost forever. 

To hell with the fighting, and the past mistakes…

“That is not the Luffy I know at all!” 

Usopp, with all the right motivators, is giving Luffy a final push; Practically acting like a crewmate, even though he himself had made the decision to leave… Maybe that’s why his words leave such an impact on the captain. 

“Even though it’s filled with smoke… We can still see the sky! We can still see the ocean!” 

A knuckle stamps against the tile. 

Awed, Usopp’s voice emanates from above like a god-send, highlighting the vision of Luffy – dragging himself onto hands and knees – with a surreal light. 

He’s getting back up. 

“This place isn’t hell! So… So stop looking like you’re about to die, you stupid bastard! What’s wrong with you?!” A sob hiccups through the disdain, “Why are you trying to make us worry?! Get up, and fight!” 

The leopard man stalks to the edge of the ‘arena,’ approaching the destruction with blood seeping from his temple, matting his fur. “Are you finished with your little speech yet? I suggest you get ready to show me what you’ve got!”

Though, I’m not looking at the CP9 agent at all. 

His fist hasn’t moved from its place – Rubble scrapes the floor. Glued to my soulmate's shuddering figure, Luffy’s sole slides out into a sumo-like stance. 

“You’re right, Usopp…” His thighs are screaming at him to stop moving, yet the knuckles planted are keeping him centered. Pores fried, skin flaky, dried out while any remaining moisture evaporates; Luffy can’t lose concentration. He’d pass out if he lost his grip. “...this place isn’t hell, it’s not even close.” 

Lucci doesn’t move, eyes popping open… In time, he turns, one bulging eye peeking over shoulder. 

“Finish him!” Like a rally, Usopp calls, “Then we can all leave this place together!” 

Luffy lifts his head, 

“I’ll win, no matter what!” 

I swear I could feel the room quake, Luffy’s voice booming like a shockwave. Bearing a numbness elicited from my other half, to say I’m amazed wouldn’t be the right word for it – It’s more akin to a high. 

Luffy had surpassed himself… Abilities overshot, running on nothing but pure determination as adrenaline fizzles like acid in his veins. How the hell does somebody even do that? To refuse your own body as it gives out on you, that’s…

“So you can still move…” Ears pinned, Lucci wobbles to face the boy again.

The captain says nothing, iris shaking in the whites of his eyes. He’s totally locked in. Nothing else exists in this room for him right now aside from Pigeon-Guy. 

“...I’m never gonna give up. I never said… I gave in.” Voice not much but a dull roll in his throat, Luffy’s eventual response drones through the room, raising goosebumps across my skin. “You hear me? Until I defeat you… I won’t drop to the ground ever again…” 

A breath, then two–

“I’m terminating Life Return.” Announcing the change, Lucci’s scrawny build (changed sometime mid-battle), returns to his usual, broad-shouldered frame. “This annoying farce has gone on long enough. I’ll crush you with a single blow, and end this once and for all.” 

The man smirks, creepy as all hell with the sinister, snide gleam in his eye. 

“Oh, and don’t worry about your friends, Straw Hat. Just as you all wished, you’ll be reunited once again very soon… And I’ll send you all to the same hell!” 

A smidge of movement – Lucci vanishes. 

He reappears before Luffy with both fists outstretched, and the captain meets him in the middle. Steam explodes from the impact, invoking a temporary humidity where the dried column of my throat thickens, saliva like a paste. 

With stiffened, shaky limbs, the enemies stay rooted in place, barred by the other. Muscles flex – they push off from the connected point at the same time – and launch themselves across the room. 

“Spots attack!” Clawed hand ready and reared back, Lucci jets forward. 

Luffy lands, leaning back, bracing. Hellbent and raging, roaring at the leopard man, the captain is somehow more animalistic than the other. 

What follows is a flurry of attacks, of which I can’t hope to keep track of. I know Luffy’s using a gatling, and that Lucci is combating with a series of pointed jabs which soon turn to fists. Fed up, sharing his frustration with a lingering shout, Lucci backs off, only to send a kick Luffy’s way. The boy dodges the slashing winds by planting one foot on the ground and raising the other in the air, legs straightened into a vertical split. Lucci hops from the ground, bouncing around the room with ‘moon walk.’

“Gum-Gum Jet Pistol!”

It lands, crunching into the leopard man’s torso without remorse; Lucci chokes up blood, as does Luffy. 

When Lucci tries to correct himself midair he’s half-blind. His eyelids shutter for a moment, and moving his legs appears strenuous – my heart leaps into my throat – Luffy was wearing him down thin. 

“Gum-Gum Jet Pistol!”

Again, Luffy attacks, 

Lucci evades. When the man appears by the boy's side, he places two fists together for another six king gun. Jumping away, Luffy thinks he’s avoided another rib-shattering attack – Lucci’s tail whips out, wrapping taut around the other's torso. 

“Ultimate radius…”

The fists pose over Luffy’s chest, his eyes widen–

“Six King Gun!”

I can visibly make out the sheer force of the attack as it billows from Luffy’s spine like a heat wave. 

So much blood – Luffy’s excruciating screams are drowned out by the bubbling of it pouring from his mouth – and I’d be lying if I didn’t taste it for myself. The impact is so intense it’s impossible to do anything but stay still and wait for it to be over.

Silence…

There’s a crater in the wall, I notice it once I can finally lift my head. Luffy’s drifting, barely on his feet. His footsteps aren’t calculated, relying on his body's affinity for resilience, pushing his body upright whenever his spine curves forward… And he’s headed in the opposite direction of Lucci, who seems to believe that the fight is over. 

The captain stands, breath caught. Stumbling in place, on the verge of collapse, he falls back – then jolts, righting himself once again. Crouched, chest hunched over knee, more blood smacks the floor. 

I can’t see him, can’t see his face, or anything but his back… Yet, I know it’s taking everything to keep himself standing at this very moment. He stands, wilting, and quiet, and it goes on for an anxiously long period. 

It’s strange, hearing my voice rasp so harshly in the dead air;

“Luffy…?” 

The captain stiffens, fingers digging into his palms–

Luffy reels back, and bellows at the ceiling – as if the sound, the sensation, and the taste of coppery-grit in his throat, are the sole factors keeping him standing. It’s neither, though. He has a promise to keep, to himself, to the crew… To Lucci. 

Luffy would beat him; he wouldn’t stop fighting, and he wouldn’t fall back down until that happened. 

When Lucci hears it, I think his brain short circuits. Breathing so heavy I can hear the blood clogging his nose, the man stares fish-eyed into the emptiness. How many times could one kid get up? 

They turn to face each other. Rage clashes with determination like an electromagnetic storm. 

“Gum-Gum…”

Memories pop up in Luffy’s thoughts. Vivid pictures of the hardships they’d had to go through in order to get here… Of Robin, telling them she would never see them again… Of Lucci, telling him they would never be able to surpass the world government… Nami, tearfully relaying the truth about Robin’s actions… And then, just… You, for a second. 

Arms drawing back, Luffy bites down until it feels like his teeth are about to push into his jaw–

Throwing himself forward, the captain doesn’t bother finishing the announcement of his attack yet – The gatling is unleashed – smacking the very particles in the air, a practical machine gun made of stretchy flesh and bone. 

And the iron body, which Lucci prepares for his defense, isn’t enough. 

“...Jet Gatling!” 

Worn down by Luffy’s relentless spirit, he no longer maintained his abilities to their fullest potential– He can’t keep up anymore. Where one fist lands, another comes to ricochet the impact, delivering whiplash, only for another fist to appear and repeat the process. Flailing like a ragdoll, the man slides backwards by his feet, inevitably hitting the wall on the other side of the room. Plaster molds around his figure; then the concrete reinforcing it; then the frames come loose to splinter around him, too. 

Hot air rushes through the building, kicking up dust, blasting my hair back and away from my face. I shield myself as best I can, never taking my eyes off Luffy. The captain doesn’t let up, doesn’t relent. Eyes shut tight, he can’t even see that his opponent has already been beaten, not willing to take the risk. 

Only when the wall completely shatters, and he’s back to punching empty air, does he allow himself to cease firing – Lucci, thrust from the side of the building, is finally defeated. 

The pink glow Luffy’s body disappears… With a wheeze, he allows himself to fall back to the floor. 

“It’s over…” Gasping on the floor, Luffy struggles to get the words out. “We should… Be okay now…” 

“This is a report to all ships! Mr. Rob Lucci of CP9 has just… Has just been defeated by pirate Straw Hat Luffy!” 

“We’re all going back together, Robin!”

Louder than ever, despite being so utterly spent, when he calls out to the sky I’m certain that Robin is able to hear him. Currently, it’s as if my world is shattering. 

I can’t believe he’s still awake, after all that. The willpower that this boy holds is beyond anything I can comprehend. 

I sit, and I stare at him, with no words to find or speak. Brain fried, practically liquidated at this point, the revelry of my soulmate's victory provides another intoxicating head-high. Perfectly content in his position, Luffy’s smiling so big it nearly takes up the latter half of his face, eyes closed in pure satisfaction. 

Warmth drips between the crevices of my joints, slipping through muscle fibers and swathing the surface of my bones. Oil to an old hinge as I admire his handsome, pounded-in face, beaming with all the happiness in the world. I huff – it’s almost comical – disbelieving the recognition of how relieved I am. All those tense muscles and sore spots deflate at the instinct that whatever danger existed has been eliminated… Thankful that we’re not dead.

It was all over. 

Luffy’d won.

I don’t know if the assurance stems from Luffy, or if I was just so beyond the point of tiredness that my nervous system had burnt out; Probably both. 

My forehead falls to the splintered wood, breathing deeply. The salty, frigid air is sharp as it filters through my nostrils and into my lungs, refreshing. 

“(Y/n)?” The hoarseness of my soulmate's voice draws me back to awareness. “You still there?”

Raising my head, Luffy hasn’t risen from the floor yet… Actually, I don’t think he could get up, even if he wanted to. 

“Yea…” Calling back, my voice scratches against the dryness of my throat. I sound like an old lady who’s smoked too many cigarettes in her lifetime. “I’m here.” 

“Okay, good.” A short bout of laughter happily chuffs from his bloodied lips. “I got distracted for a while there, wasn’t sure if you might’ve passed out or not.” 

Says you. I shake my head, the knowledge that we’d been thinking similarly of one another keeps me feeling airy. 

Seeking out to grip the edge of my wooden-shield, a beat of breathless strain passes by. “No, I’m…” Laggardly hauling myself to my feet, the soft response is withheld for another pinching inhale. “M’ still here.” 

Legs pricking from having sat for so long, I catch and hold at the wall to avoid toppling back to the floor, my hands audibly slapping as they land. Steady, given the solid surface, feet shuffle to kick at the rogue pebbles and bits of debris randomly scattered through the room. Minus those small details, it reminds me of the first time I’d learned to skate in an ice rink, hugging the wall as I found my balance. 

“W-Wait, you don’t have to get up yet! I can just–” Fingertips claw at the ground, and Luffy grunts, rigid as a plank. As his first attempt fails, frustration overtakes his expression. “I can… Get up still– Just… Just gimme a sec—”

Slightly snickering, I deem my spot on the wall as the closest point I have for an easy departure – overly aware of how my legs had given out before – but, pushing off the wall is strenuous. 

Tottering forward with arms wrapped around my chest, holding everything together, a handful of misguided steps lead me straight to my soulmate… Only to trip over nothing at the last moment. Knees ramming into the solid ground, withholding a rumbling groan behind my sternum, I await the summoned strikes of pain to stop. 

“Yeah…” A heavy exhale. Luffy, panting, lazily lolls his head to look at me. “That works, too.” 

A thin veil of rogue hair strands curtains my view, piteously observing him.

Hair flattened and greasy, scuffed – covered in blood and grime – the two of us remain in the stillness, merely existing. Gentle minds aren’t burdened by adrenaline, giving a better sense of how the other might be feeling. Prodding at the bond, running it along my fingers like braille paper, it’s all muddled. There’s too many injuries to account for, overlapping mine and intermingling as the same sensation. 

Out of nowhere, my arm throbs. I break eye contact and cater to the wound for the millionth time. Red colors all over the front of my shirt from using it as constant cradling-space, copper singeing my sinuses. The sight, sense, and smell combined make me incredibly nauseous. 

“I… Don’t think I’ve ever hurt this bad before.” Taking a breath – an inhale that’s the teeniest bit too fast – my ribs disagree with the motion. Perfect timing. “...Like, ever.” 

“Me neither.” The giggle whistles through his teeth, finding the situation funny as per usual. I honestly wondered if that was just his way of coping. “But, hey! I beat Pigeon Guy, just like how you beat his soulmate– Guess we must be better soulmates than them, huh?” 

“Way better… You have no idea.” My soulmate's intoxicating giddiness must be starting to rub-off, I find myself giggling back. “You did really good. Scared me for a second, but…”

“Yep! I did everything I could to beat him.” Luffy glows with praise. “I’m sure you did, too.” 

Memories distant, pushed to someplace where I wouldn’t dwell over them, each injury pops into mind like a collage; Glittering blades, jagged teeth, a fiery explosion… I close my eyes, dashing away my relived-trauma with a resolved sigh. “Yeah… Yea, I did. Not as much as you, though.” 

Luffy blinks, briefly holding off on his curiosity. There’s a peacefulness that falls across your expression with your eyes closed like that, and he doesn’t want to interrupt too soon. 

“That doesn’t matter. You still beat her.” Eyebrows furrow, flattening the line of his lips. “What happened up there, anyway?” 

Your eyes flutter open, caught off-guard. 

God, where do I even start?

Boom! Boom– Boom!!

The building quakes – My heart rate picks up speed.

“Uh… Let’s just… Talk about it later.” I land on my answer, the reminder of our timer more apparent than ever. Not long now and this building would be reduced to a pile of stone and ash. “There’s a lot that I have to tell you, tbh…” 

Your knees pop, rising from the floor, and you just barely manage success. 

“Fine…” Luffy pouts a bit, really wanting to know about your fight… It was your first time, and he wasn’t even there to see it! On the other hand, he also really wishes he could move right now. Holding you would be nice, yet he can’t even act on the desire. The captain's arms aren’t exactly in working order (alongside the rest of him). 

Nonetheless, you look to be on the verge of the same thing, legs trembling as they straighten. You ignore it as best as you can, and give his body a once over, likely determining the best way to get both of you out of the about-to-collapse building. Reluctant to let go of the topic, the captain runs through your denial again and again… ‘A lot to tell him?’ What could possibly be so important–

You’re more than a lot of things.

It bursts into his head, the words triggering a memory of his own epiphany; The smile returns to his face. “Man– I can’t believe I forgot! I gotta tell you somethin’, too! Can I go first?” 

“Um… I really think we should get to the ship first…?” Half paying attention, half scheming, my suggestion comes off as an uneasy inquisition. 

How the hell was I going to drag his limp body around? I couldn’t even carry myself, much less another human. Plus, I’m not actually certain that there’s an exit to leave from, as where we’d come in – the room’s central ladder – had flooded from ceiling to floor. There’s no doors, just an opened-up wall, plus a couple of windows… The task ahead of me was proving to be more and more difficult. If Usopp and the others were up there, maybe they could–

Shrrk–

Something punches into my lower back.

It forces a shallow gasp from my throat, enough to nudge my body forward. 

There’s a pressure near my shoulder… A hand, holding me still from behind. Ambience fades – the flow of the ocean waves, the far off blasts of destruction – lost to the buzzing in my ears. Some awareness remains, even as the world around me turns to clouded glass. 

What’s… Happening?

My chest hurts. Warmth collects, localized around the alien-object… It’s in my body. 

The long-drawn seconds are speeding up. Hollow in mind, still holding my breath, my sights trail from empty air to Luffy’s face… Desperate for an answer, too frightened to face it on my own. 

Pallid, wordless, he gapes at the afflicted area – eyes flickering up to mine in an absolute panic.

“If you really felt sorry for me…” 

Shk–

“Then why the fuck… Would you walk away like that?”

The pressure lifts – my palm places itself against the spot, finding a warm, thick liquid instead. The warmth, I register through the fog, lifting the same hand to my face. A deep red coats its face. 

The temperature accelerates; Rapid, insistent, a searing heat splits me apart from the inside-out. 

“...Like him.”

Rachel’s hand shoves. I fall, not understanding this, until my face smacks the cold stone. There’s pain, yes… But, it’s dulled. 

Screaming, throaty and unhinged, startles me once it filters in. Frenzied, feral… Luffy. 

Muscles within my torso jitter with separated tension, physically rejecting the scorch of where the knife once rested. 

“You’re not sorry at all… You’re just like him!” 

I can’t make out what Luffy’s saying behind her insane rambling. 

My head spins, woozy. Tunnel vision centers at the soaking patch of my shirt, edges spreading fast… Blood pools at my side. There’s so much of it, more than I’ve ever seen…

Too much. 

You’re losing too much blood. 

Vision blurring, dread and terror sets over my clammy skin, curling into myself as if it might delay the inevitable. My heart skips, I don’t know what to do. 

The dark rim around my vision circles Luffy’s face. He opens his mouth, and I can’t make out what he’s saying – spit flying, expression twisting from frantic to fearful – but, he never lets up. It scares me… To see him like this. Reacting like this. 

I’m scared. Except I can’t open my mouth to tell him that, anymore. 

Everything is muffled. Fading fast, I lose track of my soulmate. 

Heat is seeping out, not blood; Body heat. The air is cold. 

A shadow casts – A scramble – Luffy’s still trying to get up, hellbent, with a voice that thunders nonsense – Blonde, in the corner of my vision – A burst of warmth overhead… Shrieking. 

A bloodcurdling howl. It reverberates around my head. I don’t know where it’s coming from, although it’s gone soon enough.  

“.../n)? (Y/n)?!” 

Luffy. Right, he’s here. Fully lax, I can barely see him–  

“Look at me– (Y/n), you gotta–” 

He sounds scared. 

Sluggish blinks blur together, until there’s nothing but the grey behind my eyelids. 

“Dont close your eyes! Don’t– Just hang on–” 

My heartbeat slows, pumping in my ears in a hypnotizing lull. 

“...obin… Chopper–”

All at once, everything disappears. 

Silent, and dark. 

—

Tidbit Today… Or, maybe more of a small authors note. 

So… Yeah. 

This has been a long time coming. It was planned out since the very start of the arc, actually! 

Before you curse both sides of my pillow to be warm (though some of you might’ve done so already), just know I did try to give everyone a hint during the last chapter – a small bit of foreshadowing, as I sometimes like to hide teeny-tiny details in my chapters – which was ‘hidden’ amongst the tidbits: 

‘Only one of Rachel’s weapons remains. It’s broken, though much better off than the one that fell off the bridge.’ 

Unfortunately, no one picked up on it… Maybe it was too minor amongst such a long list? It was a struggle deciding on how to sneak something in without giving away too much information.

(And, honestly, I’m pretty happy no one mentioned it lol. ‘Shock-value,’ and all that. Stories / Fanfiction aren’t very fun if it doesn’t have you staring at your phone at 3am like your whole world just broke apart)

Anyway… Now that I’ve all broken your trust, have faith! I’m very much ready for some fluff and good-feels after the craziness of Water 7. Love this arc, but damn is it gloomy.

Can’t wait! See you next chapter <333

Black and white.

How it’d always been. 

She speaks with her mother, walking out the door. A basket’s in-hand, swinging in a steady rhythm – back and forth, back and forth – Mentally repeating the list of all the things needed for that night's supper. 

The island is small, the village no different; close-knit. 

Find the local fisherman first, then the farmer’s wife… Share a long chat with the old crow, who somehow keeps her spices stocked to the brim… 

Barely paying attention, she’s headed home. The sun is low. 

A bump– A collision, more like – into her shoulder. 

There’s nothing gentle about it. Feet scuff, balance is lost–  

And something’s changed. 

Why were the colors different? 

Friendly, familiar faces aren’t stuck in that dull, muted gray. Not anymore. Rather, they’re flush with something warm, something she hasn’t seen before…

A head of black hair, walking in the opposite direction. 

Him. Innately, she knows it. Had been waiting for it – For him. 

Entranced, she watches. He would look back. If it was him, he would look back. 

Waiting… Waiting…

Why wasn’t he turning around? 

Foolish. 

The dirt road is thin. Ornery passerby’s call, and still, she stares; Distraught. 

Was it a mistake? A fluke? 

The sky is growing dark. 

It’s okay – she thinks – to wait just a moment longer. 

The moment passes. She waits more. 

He turns. Finally turns, 

The world explodes with saturated tones. Blooming, magnificent. 

It’s the color of life, of warmth and love… Supposed to be. This felt nothing like that, not to her. 

He’s glaring. 

And the bricks are laid red.

“Well, look who finally showed up.” Altogether unpleasant, her familiar tone rakes my skin with serrated claws of displeasure. 

Rachel. 

Who else had I expected but the one person I least wanted to see? 

The wind howls past like wailing ghosts, tussling my hair and momentarily obstructing my view of the smug-looking blonde. She’s blocking off my route with intention, taking great pleasure as I’m forced to watch Robin and the greasy-leader-guy make their way down the bridge at a brisk pace, reveling in the clarity that I couldn’t do a thing to get past her. The archeologist was intensely fighting back, though could only do so much regarding the sea-stone constricting her wrists.

“Weiser; Your orders are to retrieve (L/n) at any cost!” ‘Spandam’ (greasy-leader-guy) yowls like a strangled cat, yanking at the leg of an unmoving Robin. She’d dropped herself to the ground in a desperate act to delay the future of a living hell. “Take care of it quickly, or else–” 

“Shut up and run before I break your legs.” 

With a terrified yelp, Spandam rushes away… Or tries to, anyway. Again, I’m stuck watching; The man positively berating Robin as she clings to the rock by her teeth. 

My skin prickles, a hair-raising malice in her tone. The abrupt switch – from smug to lacking all emotion – keeps me fearfully-aware of how loud my breathing is, amplified under her scrutiny. 

Terrified as I am to admit, I’m at a loss. Anxieties twist, panic spikes. Marines are one thing… CP9 was a whole different level. Luffy had dutifully served as my main defense against both (and so much more) throughout our journey. Brash as she was, Rachel was still a trained military-agent, and I was just some girl who used to scroll through tik-tok in bed 24/7. 

“Been waiting for a while,” Rachel sneers, drawing my attention with arms crossed and hip jutted (A casual ‘I’m better than you’ stance). “Heard you hitched a ride on your soulmate the whole way here. Is that why it took you so long? You… Using him as a free ride… Slowing him down… Am I right?” 

My temple throbs, the pinching irritation difficult to ignore. Ba-bump, ba-bump – my heart hammers against my sternum. 

Luffy and Lucci had been left behind, fighting… Hence why we were standing here, staring daggers at one another. In that respect, it would only make sense that she and I do the same as the men, though I would’ve much preferred a sincere discussion if the option was available. 

This encounter was going to end one-way. The only way. We could both feel it; the way the air flexed with unanswered ferocity. Denying it was pointless. Even so, the dread is pitifully, physically draining. 

A slight silver lining existed, however. Her posture was noteworthy. Enfeebled, strength reduced as she favored one side, and significantly worse for wear. Would that be enough? Could I get the upper-hand with just that small difference? I had my own injuries to consider… That didn’t bode very well for me, did it?

Unsmiling, the woman is so jarringly serious. The times before this Rachel was always flooded by rage. Here, there’s just… Nothing. No reaction at all. It reminds me of Kaku. Of Lucci, even (watered-down). 

I’m panting like a dog, sweating like a pig – can’t get my head straight. Discomfort makes it tough to think. The shirt on my back is clinging to my skin, briny and itching. There’s uncomfortable knots tangling my hair, a twinge in my jaw every time I clench my teeth… 

But, forget about that right now. Cus’ guess what?

It’s recap time.  

Picking up from the last chapter… The drawbridge did end up lowering, and the Franky Family upheld their end of the bargain. Problem was the marines, who stopped it halfway through. Go figure. 

Franky enacted the inspiring scene of burning a stack of blueprints right before CP9’s eyes (the same ones that could create the ‘ultimate super weapon’ which we spoke about on the train). The cyborg waved their one goal like dangling a treat before a dog, taking the many years spent on their mission in Water 7 and wasting them in a single, fiery breath. That action alone had sealed any leftover cracks of doubt regarding his persona, and I had a sense of renewed respect for him… I lowkey cried a little. 

Spandam, outraged, took the opportunity that arose with the distraction of Franky’s peers showing up to lower the bridge, slinking behind the cyborg to deliver a hard shove. Franky fell, screaming all the way; thankfully, this was where Kokoro spoke up on Nami’s portable transponder snail. With the oncoming shrill of a sea-train’s whistle, she commanded us to jump. 

“If your friends told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?” 

“Duh.”

– Luffy, probably. 

Not that I can really say anything. When he grinned, directing me to ‘hold on,’ I faithfully threw my arms around his neck and pressed as close as possible, obeying without a word. The crew didn’t go along so willingly, the captain snaring them in his arms prior to leaping straight off the building head-first.

Needless to say, the landing was not gentle. All of us were pasted flat against the train – Franky included – so, combine that with said-train colliding full speed into a building, and you can imagine the rest. The only reason I could possibly guess as to how I’d acquired zero broken bones (or how I hadn’t died) was due to Luffy’s impossible ability to survive anything. He was like an unsquishable beetle, or something. Anyways… Often employing himself as a makeshift cushion, I could only assume he’d done the same here. My eyes had been shut tight the entire time. 

Who else would be responsible for driving the train into a building aside from the train conductor herself? Granny Kokoro. How she’d been sober enough to do that? Can’t give you an answer. I’m still convinced she and Zoro are distantly related somehow. 

She tells us to move our asses; Luffy lifts the crumbling concrete off the both of us, the others following suit; We deliver a swift greeting, thanking the old woman and her two young associates, before setting off on our mission; 

Or we would’ve, had a CP9 agent not unzipped their lips (quite literally) and spilled the beans on what we were in for; Fukurou told us about the ordeal ahead, how all members of the secret-agent group had to be defeated since each one held a key. Only one of those keys would be able to unlock Robin’s sea-prism-stone cuffs. Thus, we would need to defeat all of them if we wanted her back. 

Once a short plan has been formed, Luffy and I are first to set off, myself riding piggyback whilst he navigates the maze-like corridors. We would be heading straight to Robin, the others tasked with seeking out all the keys. We didn’t have much time to waste. If we were trying to reach Robin, we’d have to ensure ourselves as the ones to reach the Gates of Justice first… So long as my soulmate didn’t drown himself in the process. 

I say this because I had to physically withhold him from crossing a vast, thrashing waterway, implemented to block anyone from accessing the Gates of Justice. Easier said than done. Attempting any means of crossing, though we had access to a poor-excuse for a dingy (the only ‘boat’ provided to those who dared to try), was a total pipe-dream. Yet, convincing him of the existence of another route wasn’t feasible, and talking him down from a watery death was meaningless given his principles…

My saviors did eventually show up; A bubbly package of cheerful giggles, wild green hair, and blue fur. They told us of a secret passage, one that supposedly led to our desired destination. I’d been in the middle of fishing my (obnoxious) soulmate from the depths by the time the kiddos showed up. 

That’s how I wound up soaking wet, racing down a flight of steps in the frigid air of a hidden passage, carrying a small rabbit rather than being carried myself. Luffy was carrying Chimney. You can call me childish, still, I couldn’t help but mope. 

“So these are the ones, huh?” The captain hums in thought, hands splayed flat against cold steel; a pair of metal doors branded by the World Government. 

Bang– Bang, bang!

The intruding sound causes me to flinch at first, Luffy slamming his fists against our blockade. 

According to Chimney and Gonbe, this was the door, or ‘secret tunnel,’ that they’d serendipitously discovered. It was where Lucci, ‘Lucci’s servants’ (Spandam & whoever else), and Robin had entered, oblivious to their audience. Problem was, the doors had been sealed shut since. 

“Man, this door is pretty thick. Do you know how to open it?” 

“Well,” Responds a slightly congested Chimney, reaching for the supposed control panel. “One of Lucci’s servants was messing around with something here! I bet you can operate it with this keyhole… Though, I don’t see a key.” 

Staring over the girls protruding braids, I gently brush one aside, scanning all about the panel in hopes I might find something she hadn’t. Nevertheless, she was right. There was a keypad, a couple levers, and a large keyhole that served as the panel’s centerpiece. I tentatively flip a few switches and press a few buttons for good measure, chewing away at the dead skin of my dry lips. As expected, nothing changes. 

Looking up at Luffy, I find him already staring. I wasn’t sure if he was just watching, or if he truly believed that I would be able to solve the problem. Either way, I shrug back uselessly; A wordless exchange of ‘that’s all I got.’

A short sigh. Luffy clasps fist in hand. His knuckles pop, sounding off the thickened walls of the hollow chamber. 

“Alright…” Resolute, Luffy must have a plan in mind. “You guys, stand back.” 

“Why? What’re you gonna do?” Chimney pries, curious. 

“Nyeah?” Asks the Rabbit. 

I’m also curious about what he’s thinking, scanning up and down his posture, though not outwardly voicing the inquiries. Was he going to do that thing from before? That fast thing, with the Bull-Guy… ‘Second Gear.’ I think that’s what he called it…

“We can go to the Gates of Justice through here, right?” Gaze never straying from place, Luffy’s earlier determination – that we would get to Robin, no matter what we had to do – is conveyed vaguely through his stiffened body language. 

Head bobbing, uneasy, Chimney hums a confirmation, inadvertently backing into my legs. I bend to take her hand, pulling her towards the opposite end of the room. The unusually humorless attitude from the boy must’ve deterred the little girl. On our way here, the captain hadn’t acted like his usual, goofy self… That subtle, solemn aura had shifted to an acute focus, and it had caught us all off-guard. 

“C’mon, let’s go over here and outta the way…” Regardless of whatever Luffy had in mind, it was sure to be messy or destructive. I’m sure that’s the reason behind his warning. “Luffy will get us through.” 

“Okay! If you say so.” Pepping up, quite literally bouncing, her smaller fingers squeeze around mine. “Wow, your hands are really cold!”

Laughing awkwardly, I usher her and Gonbe to hunker down behind a wide iron pipe. This was probably far enough to avoid any kind of catastrophe. “Yeah, I’m sorry… I get really cold, sometimes. We don’t have to hold hands if you don’t want to.” 

I end up sitting wedged in between the two – and now the rabbit is clutching my hand in its paws, mimicking his owner.

“Nope! This is great!” Dark, wide-eyed peepers look up at me. “Besides, if we keep holding hands, maybe you’ll get warm again!” 

I blink, stunned, soon recovering with a huff. “Sure. I’d like that.” 

My soulmate moves. Our attention is recollected. 

All three of us watch, silent with anticipation, as the boy raises a hand to his mouth. The seconds pass, I register that I've seen him do it before. That wasn’t Second Gear… Was it? No– Err, well… I hadn’t exactly seen him activate Second Gear, so maybe–? 

“Third Gear!” 

With the words slightly garbled, thumb hooked between teeth, it clicks. I remember… This was what he’d planned to do after Second Gear, thinking Bull-Guy wasn’t done fighting and getting interrupted when the man keeled over. 

Luffy’s shoulders jerk, head tilting forward. The sound of rushing air tears through the dense silence of the room; A hollow tone that progressively sharpens to something higher pitched, like a balloon being filled. A glimpse of tanned skin peeks over the boys shoulders… A widening mass that grows, and grows, and–

It’s his arm… Bulbous and extended at the shoulder, though most of the weight (air??) is clustered, swelling at the fist. 

It is air, I recognize. The boy is filling his body with air. 

Too inhuman to fathom, I’m sure Chimney and Gonbe are equally as awestruck. My brain is too overburdened to process, unable to ponder any question that isn’t surface-level;

Why? How? 

And most importantly (say it with me now)… WTF? 

Only once Luffy’s fist has grown to concerning size does he set out to start swinging. As such, the two kids send themselves toppling back, the situation deemed too scary. I’m in full agreement, the walls around us shuddering with each devastating, earth-shattering punch. Beneath our knees, the floor rumbles as if it might cave inward. 

Although I knew that Luffy would never intentionally place the kids or I in harm's way, there was such a thing as accidental harm. This meant that, when everything was said and done, we’d take careful steps towards the lingering dust clouds. There’s no noise aside from the crumbling debris settling into its resting place. 

“It’s opened…” Chimney (and Gonbe) are braver, faster-moving with their increasing visibility. It was hard to miss the gaping hole where the otherwise impenetrable steel doors should’ve been. 

Tip-toeing around the fallen rock, I feel a part of me seize. There’s a lack of something else, something important. 

“...Luffy?” 

“Yup. I’m here.” 

The squeaky response leaves me in a stupor, at first. 

While the murky dust settles, a small yellow circle is first to appear. It’s no further than a few feet, not a circle at all– Or, I suppose it was, in a sense. 

It’s a straw hat, and it’s comically large on the figure who wears it.

“No fucking way.” The curse slips from my lips in a hush, completely forgetting about the younger audience. 

The tiny shadow beneath the straw hats brim sighs, stubbornly marching forward precisely when the exhaustion comes flooding in. It’s all the confirmation I could possibly need, despite the fact I couldn’t believe my eyes. 

At a size smaller than Chimney herself – roughly about Gonbe’s height – is Luffy.

“All right…” The sternness of his tone was misplaced. With such a childish voice it’s difficult to take him seriously. “Time to head out!” 

“N-No way!” Squealing, Chimney flails her arms. Her and Gonbe’s expressions match, jaw dropped and eyes popped, utterly flabbergasted. “How’d you make yourself all tiny?!” 

…No, but seriously. How did he make himself tiny? 

There’s no answer, only an internal sense of urgency that’s prodding at me to keep moving. An impatient, silent message of ‘I’m not waiting up.’ 

“Uh…” I waver, shaking my head, bending at the knee to address the kids. If we had to go, I wasn’t certain I wanted to leave them behind to fend for themselves… Then again, taking them wouldn’t be much better. We were doubtlessly going to run into Lucci. Would he put an innocent child in danger for the sake of his mission? Did he have those kinds of morals? “Alright, so… We, um… We have to go, okay? Do you think you can make your way back to one of our friends? O-Or maybe your grandmother?” 

“Yup! Sure can.” The two, still recovering from their stupor, give me a loose thumbs up. 

“Okay, just– Be safe,” Raising to a stand, I glimpse over my shoulder to see Luffy a ways ahead. He’d started running. “A-And… Thank you for helping us. Just so y’know, we couldn’t have done this without you guys– Really!”

“No problem!” Both arms on both kids lift into the air again, waving in wide arcs. “See you later!” 

Sighing in appreciation of her (adult-like) understanding, I turn on my heel in hot-pursuit of my shortened-soulmate. 

“Oh, n’ once this is over I still owe you that friendship bracelet– I didn’t forget!” 

“Really?!” Voice shrill with excitement, the little girl’s squeals fade as I get further away. She chants her excitement, zipping up the stairs in accordance with my instructions. “Bracelet, bracelet, we’re gonna get a bracelet!” 

“Luffy!” The call reverberates all through the tunnel, making myself jump. 

“C’mon– Hurry it up already!” Altogether confusing to hear, Luffy’s voice isn’t far now. “We gotta catch up to Robin!” 

Much faster than my soulmate given the size difference, there’s no taking my eyes off of him once I inevitably catch up. Miniature sandals, miniature shorts, miniature vest… Regular sized hat? Why wasn’t that small, too? It just seemed odd to me that– Wait a minute. “...How the hell did you get your clothes to shrink too?” 

“Hah?” The boy doesn’t look up at me, wheezing, pushing the boundaries of his smaller form. 

“You’re clothes.” I’ve slowed my pace significantly, doing my best to stick beside him. “I get why you’re little… Well– Uh… Nevermind, I-I don’t get that either–”

With a stretching, rubbery emittance, Luffy gains a growth spurt out of absolutely nowhere. Not all at once does he return to normal size, shifting over the course of ten seconds or so (roughly the size of a young teen before reverting to his usual self). 

Baffled, words catching in my throat, I’m now fighting to keep up with his pace in order to stay on track. At least it wasn’t permanent, I guess… 

“Yea, I’ve never done it before.” The captain relays, referring to his newest ‘gear.’ “Didn’t know it’d make me all tiny like that.” 

Retracing vivid images of all the changes I’d witnessed his body undergo over the last hour or so, I can only find one statement that I’m certain of. 

“You… You were super cute like that.” 

“W-What?!” Luffy’s neck wrenches sideways, nearly ramming into me as he sways and stumbles in my direction. “I-I wasn’t cute– Third gear is super cool! It’s not cute!” 

“Um… Third gear was cool, yeah…” With a murmur, I throw him a bone. “But, it’s like I got to see when you were little or something. Is that what you looked like?” 

“How should I know?!” And he starts running faster, pulling ahead. I can see the tips of his ears gaining color, practically unheard of when it came to Luffy. “It’s not like I could see myself!”

Giddy, I prod a little more. “Well, if that was how you looked, you were adorable.” 

“Would you stop talking about it already?!” Whipping around, teeth sharp as razors, Luffy’s entirely fed-up. “I didn’t get to see you all tiny, th-this isn’t fair!” 

“I-I guess,” The tables have turned. Meek with the idea of the boy seeing anything relating to me as a child, I redirect. “Just– I mean– N-Normal people can’t shrink, Luffy.” 

“Whatever…” Slightly annoyed, he faces forwards again, regaining focus. “Doesn’t matter anyways, we don’t have time for this right now!” 

A few miles of underground tunnel – A few minor bouts of bickering – Eventually, we’d both run into Lucci, who’d been patiently awaiting our arrival. 

Lucci and Luffy share a short back and forth, the former confirming how Robin was just behind the doors behind him. Serving as bodyguard, he’d been instructed not to let anyone through. My soulmate, heated by the appearance of the enemy he’d sworn to defeat, asserted his desire to stay behind and fight. Meanwhile, I’d go up ahead and catch up to Robin. 

Again, Lucci was instructed to guard the door, to never allow a soul to pass through… The man wasn’t accomplishing his assignment very well. The battle had yet to start once I made my way toward the doors, approaching with a wide berth around the CP9 agent. Watching, tentatively tip-toeing as if any wrong movement would set him off, my apprehension increased the longer he stared me down. All of us were quiet – Lucci never spoke a word. He only smiled, and that smile stayed put up until the very moment I pushed open the doors. Sparing a quick glance toward Luffy on my way out, I entered the stairwell. The air felt thinner in there, more freeing. Casting aside my suspicion, I set off. I remember the relief of being able to breathe so much easier as I left… 

Bordering on extreme nausea, locking sights with Rachel’s lightning-eyes, I realize I’ve walked straight into a trap. For fucks sake– I’d practically delivered myself to the government on a silver platter. No wonder Lucci seemed so disturbingly pleased with my departure. 

Luffy isn’t here. It’s the dominating thought of the bunch. My adversaries gaze seems to glow in the looming shadow at her back – The Gates of Justice.

This bridge was the only way to get there. The bridge led to the exact place where the government had wanted me in the first place. 

Sights trailing nervously from the immense pair of doors, barely visible through the fog, I find myself struggling to focus on the task at hand. It’s daunting, being so close to my own doom.

Robin’s doom, too. You’re not the one in chains, and you need to get going. 

Time’s ticking. 

Attention reverts back to Rachel. Keys. We needed keys to unlock Robin’s cuffs. I needed to get them, first. That required the others' help, but maybe if Rachel had one, then–

“You’re kidding, right?” Sardonic in speech, Rachel snorts, lifting both eyebrows. “Even if I had one of those keys, you really think you’ll be able to get it from me?”

I swallow hard, trembling and strained. Every muscle fibre is clenched tight as piano wire. Whether she’s lying or not is unclear, yet the message isn’t;

I was going to lose. 

She doesn’t have a key, and I was going to lose. 

Antsy – nervous system more accustomed to flight over fight – there’s no straight answer to land on for what I’m meant to do next. Two bodies shrink further into the distance. Robin is being taken away. I can’t focus. 

Focus. Figure it out. Assess – Like Zoro told you, remember? 

What are the facts? What is the goal? 

Rachel doesn’t have a key. I need to save Robin. 

There was no way I could get around Rachel in order to do that– 

“The hell are you looking at?” 

Rachel’s body is smothered in a fine layer of dust, clumped into dark, dampened splotches on the cloth of her suit. Blood. Randomly scattered, the major source of it appears to be at the crown of her head, caked in her roots, dirty-blonde colored to a murky-ginger. 

Right, she was injured.

“What are you looking at?” The syllables tap through her teeth with the hiss of symbols on a drumset, shoulders bent inward. There’s a wrinkle at the bridge of her nose that continuously scrunches with the elongated time it takes me to answer. 

Whatever hope I’d been meaning to invoke, whatever ideas I’d harbored in the potential of defeating her… It’s all flushed down the drain. 

I’m scared– And I have no clue on what the hell I’m supposed to do. A few weeks of basic defense and minimal training wasn’t going to do me any good against a special agent, regardless of her caliber. That in itself was bad enough… Adding in the fact that she also hated my guts?

Holy fuck. 

Realization hits hard – I step back, knees wobbling. This was really bad… Really, really bad.

Should I run back to Luffy? Should I–

“Guessing I was right. I can smell that kid all over you.” Rachel’s nose twitches, sniffing. A scoff, and she shifts to pace sideways. “I bet he’s real thankful for that.” 

…Not this shit again. 

“What… What the hell is your problem with me?” I rebut against my better judgement. “I’ve… I-I barely even know your name.” 

She plays it off with a snort, yet it’s obvious the comment gets under her skin. “You’re joking… You aren’t that stupid to actually forget it, are you?” 

Taken-aback, my mouth stays open for a breathless moment. “I didn’t… Forget anything–”

“Whatever. You’re gonna remember it anyway. Y’know why?”

Tanned hands trail to her hips, deft fingers pop-clicking the two sheathes resting there. Knuckles locking around each handle in a vice, the metal glints in the sunlight, grating against its casing. 

“Because it’s gonna be me – ‘Rachel’ – who drags you through those gates.  And I want you to rot down there– I want you to sit in that prison with my name as the only thing on your mind. I’ll be the single person that you think about for the rest of your shitty-existence.”

Three-pronged, sharpened to a point – almost resembling a deadly garden-trowel of sorts – Rachel means to dual-wield the claws, reaffirming all of my apprehension. With her showcase, it’s impossible to disguise my nerves. Uneasiness settles in, viscous, lining my stomach. 

This was about to happen. She was going to come at me whether I wanted it or not. 

Adrenaline spikes, surging. My first-ever battle was about to be with a CP9 member… A member of Cipher Pol 9, an elite combat agent skilled in the art of assassination; Because why wouldn’t it be anything significantly easier and less life-threatening? 

She steps forward – My legs wobble, ready to give out – there’s sweat beading at my hairline, itching over my brow, prickling my nape. 

Another step; Now or never. 

Run back to Luffy? Or stay and fight…

A random burst of pain reminds me that Luffy’s fighting his own battle right now. He’s preoccupied, brawling with Lucci, the strongest of the group. Bringing another person into that, without being able to provide any assistance of my own… That would only worsen his odds. 

Then again, my chances of winning if I stay are slim, basically none. Participating was a death wish, going against everything I worked so, so hard towards…

Neither option is good. Neither option is clear.

Either way, everything about this sucked. The government sucked. The marines sucked. CP9 sucked. Rachel sucked. 

What is the goal?

“Fuck you.” Deliriously frustrated, I flip her the bird for good measure. I had words, if nothing else. “You suck at answering questions.” 

The goal is Robin. 

She wasn’t gonna save herself… Doing nothing wasn’t gonna help, either. I just had to rely on Luffy to hurry it up. 

“You fucking bitch–” Wide-eyed, teeth bared, Rachel no longer holds back. “What the hell do you know?!” 

The woman strides forward, quicker than I expect. I’m immediately regretful of my poor word choice. 

Stumbling back a few steps, my pulse races through my veins. Unsure of what stance to take, of how to brace for what's coming, my mind reels with how and what I had to retaliate with.

“You are blessed.

Something special.” 

So much to look forward to… She once rejoiced at the thought. 

Destined-halves. 

‘Blessed… Special.’

Cursed. 

Her parents had reached for her, wailing, bawling, begging. She kicked, cried. The sea of white and blue mercilessly swallowed her up. 

No explanation. No reason for why.

“Classified,” they’d said. 

Guns rattle, withdrawn. “Lethal force.” 

Her parents stopped chasing, then. 

They stood together, shadows in a brightened doorway, haunting her dreams. Silhouettes… What did they look like again? 

Who knows. She was only fourteen at the time.

The claw swings down, audibly ripping through the air – I raise my arms to block on instinct, callowness on full display. It’s a reaction based on fear, not skill.

Shhnng!

Metal catches metal, sparks fly. The cuffs. 

Exerting pressure, Rachel’s weapon curves against the material. We part with a ringing clang. 

My breathing quakes the column of my throat, eyeing the chipped gouge marks left behind. If the metal hadn’t been there to block the attack, I wouldn’t have a wrist anymore. Dumb luck; nothing else to it. 

“You get to live this happy little love-story like every other goddamn soulmate in this world– And for what?!” Rachel roars, fueled by spite, wrath, and everything in between. Both knives rake downwards, and two prongs meet their mark.

Dwelling too long on the what-if’s prompts a slow reaction time. Unable to recover from my previous means of avoidance, raising my arms once more, I see it happen a second prior; A warning, a short glimpse of metal meeting flesh–

For a short second, I don’t feel anything but the parting of my skin.  

–Seeing it means nothing if you can’t dodge.

The wind blows cold, brushing against muscle that it should never reach… Exposed. Raw.

Then, it burns.

The other hand flies to my forearm immediately. Eyes popped, staring at nothing – gasping for air that isn’t there – my shoulderblades smash to the concrete. My misplaced impulse to stop the bleeding causes the pain to worsen

Spine curving off the flat earth, blood slicks my fingertips. A leg involuntarily kicks out. The other follows suit, flimsily stamping the ground. Only when the convulsing stops am I able to scream. 

“F–” The first letter fizzes between my teeth and my bottom lip, reeling. “Fuck!”

Spasm after spasm, the tender spaces around the gaping wound twitch whilst I writhe, wailing into the sky. Hot liquid slips down my arm, pooling warm against my cupped hand.

Nails digging sharp, I can barely feel them. The sensation is numb in comparison to the sting– the visceral agony– It feels as if it’s getting worse as the seconds tick by, which masquerade as eons while my saliva turns to melted copper. 

“Please…” Rachel scoffs, finding it comical that I’d so stupidly used my bare flesh as a means of defense. 

My unknown talent surfaces. The telekinetic ability (or whatever else you’d call it at this point) flashes a vivid kaleidoscope of the three-prongs descending once again–

Move.

I’m not even sure how I manage to do it. Barely cognizant of my actions, the protective section of my brain must block out the torture of movement. All I know is that I’m on my knees, groaning tearfully, and that it hurts. 

Salty droplets drip from the tip of my nose whilst I stare down at the massacre of my arm, barely able to withhold a reactive gag. Two lacerations, one larger than the other. It’s a bloody mess of carved meat, one that I can’t look at for very long… Too scared to discern if she’d cut down to the bone.

Swaying, feeling sick, my bloody palm smacks the smooth stone, splattering red droplets; An abrupt means of holding myself up as dizziness takes hold. Sights swaying sideways, avoiding the gruesome sight, I find Rachel hunched over the spot I’d laid previously. One of her daggers is wedged firmly within the concrete roughly around where my chest might’ve been. She’s growling, a deep rumble that resonates from her chest and into her throat – animalistic – unable to un-stick the weapon. 

I don’t want to stand, yearning above all else to lay down on the ground and curl into the fetal position… To cradle my injury… For Luffy to suddenly just appear and come to my aid…

I can’t–

I can’t go to those gates. I can’t let Robin go to those gates. 

I can’t…

Legs shaking, it takes the utmost effort to convince myself that getting up is the correct choice. 

The entirety of my arm feels weak. Any and all movement, no matter how careful or slight, strikes pain all the way up to my shoulder. Lightheaded, I heave, attempting to push the sight of my inner-makings to the back of my mind.

The two of us are on opposite sides from where we started, and I debate on whether or not I should make a break for Robin… Was that smart? Was it the right move? 

Clunk-clink–

I took too long to decide – took too long to get up – time slurring. Rachel gets the weapon loose, though not without losing two prongs in the process. 

Glaring down at the broken object as if it’d personally wronged her, she flings the intricate weaponry off to the side in halfhearted contempt; Not mourning, discarding. To her, it’s like nothing but a broken toy.

“Waste of metal.” Muttering under her breath, the woman shifts to properly face me again. The corners of her lips twitch upwards, relishing in my suffering. “Anyways… This?” Rachel gestures vaguely in my direction with her remaining blade. It’s still coated with my blood. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” 

That which is left in my circulatory system pumps in my ears like war drums. At my lack of response, that glimpse of twisted happiness on Rachel’s face vanishes all over again. 

“You don’t do anything for that kid. You’re practically worthless in a competition of strength…” Rapidly retracting her outstretched arm, blood slaps the ground with a gooey, disgusting splat! “Just what the hell does he see in you? What, cus’ you save babies? Is that– That’s…” 

The personified fury that is Rachel comes to falter. 

Her eyebrows dip low in disbelief, opening her mouth without word supply. Cheeks flushing hot – as red as the crimson splayed around us both – her tempestuous rage gains a second wind. 

“That… That bounty isn’t even yours!” Vocal cords strangled by rash absurdity, Rachel stalks toward me. “Yeah, our intel told us all about that– How your soulmate was the one who earned it, defeating that stupid excuse for a warlord in Alabasta… And then you just show up afterwards, thinkin’ you’re some hot shit– Some big-shot celebrity, only known because her soulmate is the famous one! Meanwhile he’s forced to share a bounty with some half-rate–” 

“W-What does any of that have to do with you?” Snapping at the blonde, I cut her off before she can say anything else to piss me off, rightfully defensive. 

I haven’t stopped back-tracking, our paces evenly matched. Keeping a fair distance is the only decent strategy I can come up with, fretful of such a vengeance in her eyes for no fathomable reason. My head is a mess – each open wound pulses periodically, sending sharp jolts into my wrist and up my shoulder – I can’t wrap my head around what the hell her problem is… Where did all this baseless wrath stem from? 

“Why… Why the hell do you care about my soulmate so much–” 

“Why? Because I want to know…” Breathing hard, her throat scrapes. Quavering words are backed by a fierceness that doesn’t match her posture; rolling her shoulders back as if the muscles have weakened. “Tell me why… Why the hell is it so different for you?!” 

I shake my head, breathless and weary. “What the fuck are you talking about…?”

“What are you, braindead? We were just talking about your stupid fucking soulmate.” 

The glittering tears in her crinkled, hateful eyes give reason for pause. “What…? I-I don’t–” 

“Why is your soulmate so different from mine?” 

Adrenaline becomes second-hand. I nearly forget where we are. 

Here, as the wind softens, and the vulnerability whispers through the gaps of her teeth, Rachel fractures. This vision, this character that I’d associated with the woman in front of me, it’s all displaced. 

Rachel wasn’t made of stone. She was guarded… A hard-candy on the surface, hiding away her gummy center with the coating of a misleading, sour shell. Brittle and bearing falsified armor.

“Why does he love you… Want you, even if you do nothing for him?” Through gritted teeth, she bites back tears. “Don’t I deserve that, too?” 

Deserve. 

The grooves on the pads of my fingers are sticky, fingers twitching uncontrollably. 

…What do you get when someone who questions if they’re worthy crosses paths with another who questions why they aren’t?

A collision; Similar to an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. 

“All I wanted was for my soulmate to love me for who I was– I wanted to live my life with the person who was meant for me, just like every other soulmate gets…” 

A soulmate. She has a soulmate.

…She has a soulmate? 

The pain is there – it’s real, she’s not faking it – a heartache that hits a little too close to home. Except, none of it makes sense. Her implications are impossible. How could that sort of connection exist? For a soulmate not to want their partner was…

“Why do I have to be punished for wanting that myself? I put in the work, and you…” Nonetheless, the display of weakness is short-lived, and malevolence returns to darken her tone. “You just get it all handed to you!” 

This couldn’t be real. There had to be some mistake – a foul trick. If her soulmate had treated her this badly, to the point of a full breakdown, how the hell could they be considered soulmates? 

On second-thought… It’d been like that for us, hadn’t it? Not that long ago, either. How long had it taken for me to figure out that issue for myself? 

“Why can’t I have what you have?!” 

“You… Have a soulmate?” 

I’d already gone through the motions, connected dots and popped together pieces, yet there was still the unanswered question; Who?

My curiosity prompts the strained beginnings of a smirk, bringing a peculiarity to her facial features. Another dangerous switch of emotional state. I could pity her, before… Now she just looked insane – And I’m right on the warpath. 

“‘Course I do,” Chortling at my apparent idiocy, Rachel takes pride in my lack of discernment. “Should’ve expected someone like you couldn’t figure it out on your own… He’s even fighting your little boy-toy as we speak.” 

“You little shit. You really think just cus’ you’ve got a bounty from that soulmate of yours, that you’re worth anything more than an insect between my–” 

“Rachel.” 

“...Lucci.” 

Violently ill, when I find the courage to say his name, it’s a choked clump of syllables. 

“Good work.” 

Apparently, it’s not me that he’s concerned with. 

Rachel’s hold weakens, arm twitching. As I feel her body sway into something statuesque, I can breathe smoothly once more, and inwardly question if she’s holding her breath, this time.

Glancing up, the woman is staring down at me, wide-eyed. There’s a gratified, glossy sheen coating her sights. I’d say she was almost misty-eyed, if not for the wide, maddened smile splitting her face.

Everything makes total sense now. 

“It’s… Lucci?” 

A man, mechanical and cold. A man so inhuman that simply glancing in his direction set off alarm-bells. A man who harbored zero emotions, for anything, or any-one…

I knew I’d felt something off that first day, when we first met Galley La. I’d recognized her mannerisms right off the bat, the way she carried herself reminding me of my days living in the shadow of someone else; Mistreated, and probably worse. 

I knew there had to be something going on between them… Yet, for them to be soulmates?

After all she’d done, I’d never expected to actually feel bad for this woman.

“Yeah, Lucci. What about him?” Temper flaring, defensive, Rachel gnaws on her speech. “He’ll beat that Straw Hat kid soon enough– And when he does, we’ll make that boy watch as I drag your sorry ass all the way to Impel Down.” 

…Did I just say I felt bad? Let’s make that a half-statement. 

“I’m not going anywhere without Luffy.” Jaw tight, I try to detach myself from her woes. 

“Fine.” Rachel croaks, twirls the metal claw between her fingers. “He can go with you, for all I care.”

Icy gray eyes. Feet frozen to the ground. The clothes on her back are the ones she’d left in. 

Dark, damp, smooth – a holding cell, perfectly flat. Voided corners blended into the gray paint. 

“Train her.” 

It’s him who says it. Him, who breaks the silence first. 

Just her, and him, standing like statues in the grim…

No, not just them. A pair of marines linger. He’s talking to them. 

She remembers the fear, slinking back into the dark. Concealing herself felt wrong. Hiding away from him felt wrong.

“Start with basic training. If she can’t endure it, then she doesn’t belong here.” 

“Yes sir.” 

Eyes sting, imploring. He ignores them, silent. 

She just wanted answers. 

“Prove you’re worthy to stand by my side.” 

“Bet you’ve got some heartwarming ability with that kid too, right?” Sneering, metal shears through open air as I swivel away from Rachel’s swing. The aircurrent left behind slaps against my skin. “Somethin’ like reading each other's thoughts, or showing up in each other’s dreams… Lucky little bitch.” 

Rachel’s sadness has been reclaimed to its hidden lockbox. Her moves are in disorder, attacks somewhat manageable. I dodge, and have been dodging somewhat successfully, no more wounds acquired. Even so, the necessity to dodge requires rapid movement from my entire body, and with every jerk or misplacement of my arm my eyes roll a little further to the back of my head. 

“Wanna know what ours does?” 

Arching her swing horizontally, Rachel skillfully transitions from one action to the next, blade lashing forward with a jab. The daggers' claws snag the cloth of my shirt on the way, ripping down to threads. 

“When we get close to each other, we get weaker. Physically. The strength gets sapped out once we get within a few feet–” 

I can’t think straight when she’s coming at me so insistently – escaping by a hair, only for her to be on my tail mere moments after – the difference in experience is clear. 

“It makes him weaker… N’ it’s the reason he can’t stand to be around me!” 

I can’t help but be dragged into the gravity of her misery, despite my earlier commitment to do the opposite. Listening is simple, responding is not. 

“That can’t–” 

Swish– 

“I-It isn’t possible–” For a soulmate to hate the other. That’s what she was getting at, wasn’t she?

Slash!

We’d already gone through this… Maybe not to this extent, but–

“Yes, it is. I’m telling you it is. What are you, deaf?” Belligerence as palpable as it is unnerving, the scowl overtaking her face is bad news. “But, yeah. I thought so too for a while, until I figured out the other part– The other ‘ability’ basically confirms it. For the longest time, I’ve only ever been able to see black and white. I’ve never seen color… Never, not until him. Then I got red.”

She doesn’t clarify. She doesn’t have to. 

I’d heard about that kind of bond before, where emotions are reflected as colors in the other half’s vision. For her to see red, that could’ve meant a few things, but… 

“No! You hate me!” 

“Every time I speak… Every time I look at him, e-every time I breathe– Every time I– I… It’s always fucking red!” 

Constantly? Was that really the only color she got when he thought of her? 

I’m trying to come up with a reason; Maybe they’d only just met… Maybe this was just a misunderstanding–

“You just think you know everything, don’t you?” Disregarding all restraint, Rachel lets loose her words in a hellish scream. She’s stopped attacking all at once, fists clenched so tight she risks crushing the handles of her blades. “‘Not possible?’ Are you serious? You think that soulmates are oh-so perfect, so ‘impeccable…’ What a joke. It’s right here. Me. I’m the proof– They aren’t!”

No. We hadn’t gone through this scenario. This was different from us.

We’d never been perfect, I’ve admitted it before. Not from the very start. There’d been plenty of bad times; even now, we were still working our way through our relationship. Navigating… Getting lost… For the most part, we’d reached a habit of dealing with our troubles together. 

Hearing her speak, Rachel wasn’t talking about Lucci like he was her other half, she was talking as if she was less-than. 

“And then there’s you,” Shouting at the sky, Rachel waves her arms about wildly, fingers sliding through her scalp with the dagger still in hand. A few tufts of hair loosen from the ponytail, falling sporadically around her glass-eyed expression. “Perfect you. Saving babies, rescuing your friend– You, and your perfect man who does everything for you… Just to rub it all in my face. Just… Rub it in… And, what have you done to actually deserve any of it?” 

“Must suck for your soulmate to have someone as plain as you by his side… Some whiny, useless little girl who can’t pull her own weight.”

For our entire trip, that remark had me on a back-tracking road, headed away from everything which I’d been working towards – This whole time – Only to be contributed to Rachel’s… What, exactly? Baseless jealousy? Misplaced aggression? Projection? How had she come to believe Luffy and I were so perfect in the first place? A background check? Or a perceived opinion upon first glance?

All of this felt so wasteful. My time, my energy, my emotions… 

“We’ve… W-We’ve never been perfect,” Tepidly, I try to urge that her presumptions are on the contrary. “Since we met, we’ve… There’ve been so many things that we screwed up. So many… I-I mean, there were times–”

“–Would you shut the fuck up?!”

The wood feels rough against her bruised skin.  

Perspective warps, floor outstretched. Her cheek presses flat – wheezing, choking – shadows dance in the corners. 

“Pathetic.” 

Thick, viscous, and coppery. She coughs again. It spatters from her lips, coating her tongue. 

Red. 

“Your progress is insufficient.” 

Her body aches, blood soaking into the planks around her. Another stain to overlap old ringlets of brown. 

“She must return to basic training and start over.” 

Fear is sharp, coursing through her veins. 

‘Basic training.’ Torture is what he really meant. 

Inky slacks, only visible by the sole, step wide around her useless body. 

“Be sure to get it right, this time.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“P… Please…” 

A whimper, splitting the quiet. 

“I-I just… I just need a break, please…” 

How many times had she tried to do it, back then? 

“I promise… I-I’ll get stronger– I will…” 

How many times had he ignored her, left her to plead with his back while he walked away? 

“Why…?” 

So many times… Enough that she eventually stopped bothering at all.

“Why… Won’t you look at me?”

“I sacrificed everything for this!” Screeching at me as if I’m the one to invoke her burdens, I can see all her twenty-eight of her teeth; Sharpened canines giving the feral illusion of jaws. “My life, my family– I spent days, training– working to be better… Working to be worthy of my own soulmate! I had to prove myself, so why is it not like that for you, when it’s like you barely hold a candle to that kid?!” 

Pushing off of one leg, Rachel speeds forward out of nowhere, faster than the average human. 

“Shave!”

There’s hellfire in her stark blue eyes, flames so hot the unnatural color appears cerulean. 

I scramble to evade, stumbling over my own two feet, heel rolling over a dislodged pebble– 

A stomach-swirling sensation – Careening backwards, my head and neck snap backwards into open air, shoulders catching on a ridge. 

The whiplash has my head spinning. A low fizz eases into the stunned silence, far away, like loose static… 

Glancing behind me, the absence has my heart in my throat. There’s no cement. No ground whatsoever. 

An endless, gaping hole; The one I’d been dreading. The one I pushed a man into earlier. That in itself is enough to get my nervous system up and running again. Anybody else hearing saxophones? 

Fucking bridges man–

A roar of resentment calls for warning. I jolt – she descends. 

Instinctively veering my neck away from the incoming attack, her blade glints in the light, blinding me. 

One hand raises, smacking against the ball of Rachel’s fist. When she pushes downwards, looking to muscle her way through the weak blockade, my other arm clutches at hers, pushing with all my might. Muscles like taut rubber, the action warrants waves of stabbing pain. 

An agonized moan rips from my throat. The arm falters, the dagger hovering dangerously before my vision. Patches of blood clinging in dried patches on the steel gives the illusion of rusted-prongs. Though, I can feel the fresh tears of blood dripping down my skin. 

“I never asked for this!” Howling in my face, Rachel has totally lost it, spit-flying. There’s something undomesticated in her actions… No clear directive other than a frenzied rage. 

She applies more weight, my arms buckle. 

–I can’t keep this up.

Wheezing, unable to breath properly with a scream caught in my lungs, Rachel’s face blurs, overcast by the light above. 

Do something. 

Anything.

I close my eyes, summoning whatever strength that might be left. It isn’t enough. My weak elbow gives. 

Gritting my teeth, I try to curl in on myself; Anticipating the inevitable, piercing stab of–

WHACK–!!

Rachel is there one second, gone the next; However many pounds of metallic fist smashes into the human body, pummeling the blonde with enough impact for a few wisps of my hair kick-up in the gust. 

Eyes flying open, I’m shocked to find a line of interlocked chains outstretched before my eyes. Scraping rigidly, each of the links draw rigidly, like metallic-rope. The mammoth metal hand reels back from where it came. 

“Man, that punch looked like it would’ve been super rough!”

The rough voice bellows out over the thin landscape, one that has a strange habit of popping up everywhere I travel… And I welcome it gladly. 

“Lucky I ran into ya, Shrimp!”

Hands slapping to find even the slightest grip on the rock around me, rapid palpitations start to slow. It’s hard to breath, curving to lean into one shoulder so that I might create some distance between me and the edge of the bridge. By the time I plant on hands and knees I’m not super-keen to discover myself on the verge of literally hyperventilating. 

Fatigued, my head swings lamely towards the oncoming figure, feebly meeting his gaze, vision in and out of focus. As the cyborg gets closer, his enthusiastic smirk fades. Hurrying his approach, skidding to a stop, Franky takes up the lingering space between myself and the blonde. “Oh man, I guess I really was lucky! I think Straw Hat woulda’ killed me, otherwise!” 

Rachel’s not up yet… Still, she’s recovering. Slumped over, I can make out her body shifting in my hazy sights, tens of feet from our position.  

“...Franky.” With a shuddering inhale, I turn to address him directly. I wonder if he can hear the alleviation in my shallow breaths. “What… What are you…?” 

“He wasn’t joking! You’re lookin’ a little…” Franky gives me a dramatic once over, gobsmacked, unable to land on the right descriptive word. “What the hell happened to you?! I get the whole thing about how you’ve never fought before, but holy crap!” 

“That…” Sighing, I jerk my head in Rachel’s direction. “That happened… I-I just– M’ having a hard time.” 

It’s not dejection, more like exhaustion. The cyborg offers a hand, 

“Thanks… For doing that. I, uh… What… Are you doing here? Not that I’m not grateful, but I–” 

“‘Hard-time’ is a serious understatement.” Eyeing my mutilated flesh, his attention is drawn away by Rachel, snarling in provocation as she lifts from the ground. “Straw Hat sent me after Robin and told me to check-in on you on the way.”

Franky was just about to leave. The cyborg now carried all the keys to open Robin’s cuffs, meaning he was the one best suited to embark on the mission of retrieving her. 

There was just one more thing to cover;

“You’re friends with (Y/n), right?” Locked in a strong-arm match with Lucci, Luffy directs the question at Franky without ever looking away from his opponent. “I wanted to thank you, for helping her–” 

“What the–” Sputtering, Franky feels there’s a little too much urgency at hand to have this conversation. “I feel like there’s a better time for this later!”

“–But I need you to do something.” Ignoring him, the captain continues on. “She went after Robin… And something’s wrong.” 

Franky hums, partially confused, partially curious. You’d told him about a weird soulmate-ability, was Straw Hat talking about that? How else could the captain have known about you, if you were somewhere else?  

“She’s never had to fight anyone on her own before… N’ I can’t be up there right now.” The boy winces, closing an eye – he can’t let go of Lucci, lest the agent go after Franky again. “I can only– feel her… It’s not your responsibility, but I gotta ask–” 

“Gotcha,” No more hesitation, no more interruptions. The cyborg books it toward the door in question, his mission doubled in importance. “I’ll go help her out– We can talk about payin’ me back later!”

“He’s still fighting Lucci.” With the quick retelling finalized, both Franky and I are fixed on the swaying form of a dysregulated-Rachel. “So that’s why I stepped in… Not that I wouldn’t’ve done it anyway, but now you know.”

“Oh…” Nodding limply, I keep my voice low. “He was right. It’s… I, uh, did need it, so– Thanks. A-Again.”

Normally I’d be swooning at the notion. It’s already difficult to stand on my own two feet. Going from the verge of death on all fronts, then being unexpectedly saved by a foe-turned-friend, you could say I was having a dilemma with reality. 

In the distance, Spandam caterwauls in dismay. The sound catches both our ears. 

“Yeah, I can tell. No sweat.” Cracking his neck, Franky plants fist in palm. “Now, whaddya say about taking care of this lady and catching up to Nico Robin together?” 

Chest tightening, my mouth is too dry to speak, dehydrated with doubt. As terrible as it is to admit, I’m hesitating on the precipice, because I don’t want to keep fighting this woman… I don’t know if I can keep fighting this woman, and getting pinned like that was an intense wake-up call; 

I’m not strong enough for this. I’d tried to convince myself otherwise, but now I was feeling particularly delusional. Where the hell had I gotten the audacity for the idea that I could actually beat this woman? 

If Franky hadn’t been here, then I would be dead right now. That’s not an opinion – the knife had been inches from my face. 

I’m not a superhuman. I don’t have powers, I don’t know how to fight, I don’t know how to think on my feet– I don’t even have the cognizance to remember if there was ever a time during training for this kind of scenario. We’d scratched the basics, but Zoro hadn’t included much else in the curriculum. The basics were all I could handle. 

The one thing I could do was not die; my only task to uphold in return for everything my friends had done. Yet, here I was, some nobody from New York City, trying to fight a special-ops agent, of all things. 

All the while she’d been trying to murder me. Gone off the rails, whatever prerogative to capture had been cast aside (assuming, based on the blade hovering over my face a minute ago). Whatever the relationship was, if there did exist any shared traits between her and Lucci, bloodlust was definitely one of them. Rachel was looking at me right now as if she wanted to rip out my throat with her teeth. Not very motivating. 

I can’t beat this woman, and for a horrifying second, I want to run. 

I want to let my mind fall-back into a state of flight. It would be so much easier letting Franky handle this while I back off… To just run. I could keep my promise, and everything would be fine. 

Like you did with the others at HQ? 

It wouldn’t be fine, though, would it? 

Running doesn’t solve anything. That wouldn’t be fair to Franky – he’d offered for us to beat Rachel together – and what about Robin? She was relying on us to save her. On us…

Then again, would Rachel even let me go? 

I don’t know what to do. 

What the hell do I choose? Stay and fight? And the problem has come full circle; Can I actually fight this woman? 

Every atom, every neuron making up my composition, programming me, is shot. It’s excruciating, worse and worse whilst I run on a dwindling energy supply. Dealing with pain wasn’t my forte; My arm had literally given-out in my best attempt at keeping myself alive. Fingernails dig into the injured limb, remembering, mind racing. 

Throughout her constant attacks I’d been relying on luck, with the occasional showcase of my less-than 10% fighting skills. 

Most amazing so far is how I’ve managed to keep getting back on my feet. Every once in a while, my head swirled, my vision spun; What if that happened in the middle of fighting? I would be extra-vulnerable, easy to take down. The last forty-eight hours had taken their toll… 

Although, I’m not exactly certain on how long this whole ordeal has taken… Given that unknown passage of time, how much longer did I have left? How long before I was down for the count? Hours? Minutes? 

If I stay… If I do this, how long can I hold out? 

I’d never done this. Had I? Fought someone to this extent, I mean. 

I can’t ever remember a time, here or in my old world, where I took up arms like this. Never the type to put myself out there in tough situations – even going so far as to stay out of arguments – I’d always hung back, staying out of the way. Fighting wasn’t my strong suit, and tbh, I don’t know if it ever will be. 

And yeah, I so badly wanted to fix that; To become someone who can hold their own… Then, even after starting to train for it, it’s like nothing changed. 

Easily apprehended, I couldn’t even break my own shackles when I got captured. I couldn’t outsmart my enemies, like Robin and Franky, or Sniper King. There’s always been help from somebody else, even with something as simple as hopping a damn fence. Hell, I’d been knocked out cold, rendered useless, and wound up being carried for the latter half of being on this island! 

“Can’t you do anything right?”

…Can’t I do anything else other than cry or get kidnapped? 

Feels like I can only ever do anything when I’m with Luffy… All I ever wanted was Luffy, so that speaks for itself. No shame in it – I wanted him now, too. 

Reliance. Dependency. I don’t have either of those luxuries here. 

I want Luffy. It drags, and it drags – until my lungs chest cavity feels like too much space with nothing available to fill it in. I want Luffy, I want to go back to the Merry, I want Usopp back, I want Ivory back, and Robin back, and I want to pretend as if none of this ever happened so that we can go back to the way things were before. 

Regardless, Luffy isn’t here. He’s nearby, in the building behind me, fighting his own enemy. And I’m standing here, struck-dumb by the things that I want, helpless of them being taken or vanished forever from my life. 

“Hey, Shrimp– Don’t leave me hanging!” 

Eyebrows furrowing, the voice breaks my train of thought. Something stirs at the sound, a memory–

“If you’re really asking me? It’s simple really… Just do everything you gotta do to make sure that it doesn’t happen.”

Wide-eyed, I stare up at his vibrant hair and gape, the low tone of his voice providing a firm slap to the face. 

It doesn’t matter what I can do, does it? What it comes down to is what I have to do. 

Moping, wallowing, or drowning in my own sorrows wasn’t going to get the job done… Relying on someone else wasn’t going to solve anything, here. 

Time to face the music. Some of those things that I desperately want? They probably aren’t coming back. Usopp, Ivory, the Merry; After this, I likely wouldn’t be seeing them ever again. We already lost them, and I’d have to accept that. 

However, the blonde that’s standing in the way of the one person I could save? I can do something about that. I can fight for that – for Robin. 

I don’t want to keep running anymore if it means I’m gonna keep losing people. 

“So, what the hell are you gonna do about it, then?”

Luffy isn’t here. I am, and so is Franky.

An achy sigh tugs at my throat. The anxieties are still there, always would be, alongside an inner-will that wanted me to choose survival over savior. I could be taken to those gates, to someplace worse, if I do this… I could die. 

If I lose, then everything will be my fault.

“Right, you said that already. But you’re just gonna give up? I’ll tell you one thing, moping about it isn’t gonna do you any good. You’re just beating yourself down for no reason. I mean, c’mon. It’s not like you’re trying to kill your own soulmate, right?”

I’m not trying to, even now. Never have been, never wanted to. 

Rachel currently stands with a curl in her back, glaring into my soul with the cold promise of murder. Favoring one side, the wound on her head has reopened, fresh crimson cascading smoothly down one-half of her face. The red smears over her teeth, baring them shamelessly as muscles tighten beneath her skin. Jutting out, veins stretch and bulge to a degree of concern… I question what her blood pressure must be like, intimidated by the stillness she maintains even as her rage burns from the inside out. 

“If I keep running into stronger and stronger guys like him in the future, I won’t be able to protect my friends… Unless I get stronger, too.”

Time to take a page from his book, I suppose. 

Whatever… Everything is always trying to kill me in this world, anyways. 

Breathe. 

Double-down, don’t think about how scared you are. Try not to, if anything. 

Focus on the pros: She’s injured, right? That was good. That might give the upper-hand… What else? 

Her knives. Rachel had apparently lost her other knife at some point, most likely around when Franky punched her. Glancing around, I can’t seem to spot it anywhere nearby. It’s not in her hands, or the holsters… Did it fall off the bridge? 

Back to eyeing the woman, analyzing her form, a hope begins to build. Stupid, and entirely misleading, but a hope nonetheless. 

Maybe I can do this. 

“Listen, we’re running out of time here. You can’t just go quiet on me and expect me not to get all antsy!” 

This decision is stupid. 

This is so, so stupid.

Instincts battle against my choice, resisting the urge to retreat. Biting my tongue, lips trembling, I can’t find the right way to relay my answer. The syllables twist on my tongue, coiling in my larynx. 

I gather up whatever nonsensical courage I can get… This was so, so stupid–

“...No.” 

–Still, all I have to do is hold out a little bit longer. I can do something, at least. 

“Huh?” Hoarse, and not much more than a whisper, Franky believes he might’ve misheard you. “Sorry Shrimp, I didn’t catch that.” 

“N-No,” I blurt, a touch louder this time. “I said no. You should… Just, do what Luffy says. Robin’s more important–” 

“R-Robin’s more–” Sputtering his astonishment, the cyborg goes bug-eyed. “Are you crazy?! There’s no way you can beat this woman looking like that– Plus, part of what Straw Hat told me to do was help you out!” 

“I know–” Breathing hard, doubts and anxieties resurfacing, I attempt to use my own words as a crutch – anything to uphold the internal conviction. “B-But it doesn’t matter. Robin is… We don’t have a lot of time left, okay?” 

Jaw dropped via your stubbornness, Franky finds himself bewildered by you… Not just you, actually. “Are… Are you sure? Cus’ I can just keep her busy while you–” 

“She’s not gonna let me go.” My tone, meant to be stern and inarguable, falls slightly flat as my voice gives. “Please, just– Just listen to me, and go get Robin… You can help me a-after that.” 

Not once had Rachel paid Franky any mind. Even after he’d cast her down, it was like the cyborg didn’t even exist. She didn’t have a key to unlock Robin’s cuffs, didn’t seem to give a shit about the mission at hand… The blonde was thoroughly uninterested in anything aside from me, as it stood. I wanted to help my friend, however, with this woman on my tail that wouldn’t be feasible. Rachel would constantly be in the way. 

“Get Robin. She’s more important, right now.” Reemphasizing, sights boring into the shuffling CP9 agent before us, the fact is simple. I may be facing off against a stronger opponent, but the archeologist was currently incapable of defending herself. 

Neither of us are convinced… Until Franky turns to look at Robin's figure in the distance, cursing under his breath. 

“Normally I would say go to hell, but…” 

Grumbling, Franky side-glances the ragged-looking blonde, readying to face-off against you… He can’t argue, you were probably right. This lady didn’t care about him whatsoever, and who knows what would happen when he got closer to Nico Robin. A flood of marines on top of a CP9 agent spelled out ‘disaster’ pretty clearly. 

“You might be right on this one, Shrimp.” 

Bobbing my head up and down, I take another hard, deep breath. This was the best option – for Robin. “G-Go. You gotta hurry.” 

“Argh– Fine!” With a disdainful shout, Franky does just that. “Y’know, I take back whatever I might’ve said about you guys being soulmates– You’re both so stubborn that you gotta be made for each other!" 

I chuff, finding the comment amusing – more specifically due to a lack of Franky ever saying anything like that. 

Rachel? Not as much. She bites down, jaw firm. It looks as if she may crack her teeth. 

“I won’t be long, alright?!” Frazzled, the cyborg calls one last time; “That guy, Spanda, activated the damn Buster Call– So be careful! Try to take it easy until I get back, the marines could be on us at any minute!” 

That’s certainly one way to make things a hell of a lot worse… 

“Do you actually think…” 

There’s another way, actually. 

“That you… That you… Have a goddamn chance?” Muttering, words clicking in her mouth, Rachel wheezes an incredulous chuckle. 

All at once, her face falls – disturbingly blank – nostrils flaring as the blood dribbles from her bottom lip. Echoes of the past are ricocheting off the walls inside her skull. 

“You’ve gotten careless.”

He said it so often. Maybe she deserved it.

It was an accident – Should’ve been an accident. 

A worker, just a little too close, glancing a little too long…

They found his body in the canals later that day. 

“You let your emotions get the better of you. They’ve started pointing fingers, asking questions…” 

Nothing to be said. Nothing to defend… How could she?

That man, he’d caught her on a bad day. It hadn’t been his fault, but he looked at her, and all she could see was red, red, red–

“Your foolish nature will jeopardize this mission. If you continue to step out of line, precautions will be necessary.” 

Her blood freezes. Precautions. Back to basic training, he meant – to work her way back up the ladder all over again. 

She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Never again, not after everything she’d been through to get here… To stand with him. 

Galley-La, structured by sound; its worker ants continuing on in the background; fading shouts, buzzing saws, the pounding of hammers–

“Our mission will soon be complete.” 

It all fades away when he speaks. 

“Prove yourself.” 

She can. 

“Prove yourself as capable, as something more than you are now.” 

She will. 

“Perhaps then I will consider accepting you as more than an underling.” 

Her head snaps up, meeting his cold eyes for the first time since the conversation started. 

All she ever wanted, voiced straight from his lips…

The only thing she could have for herself, anymore. 

You are her target. You are the sole chance to prove herself worthy.

But the red… The fucking red–

“Against me?”

Scarily calm, Rachel prods and taunts without faltering. Her veins are searing, vision circled in a crimson-hued haze – and your figure is the single point of clarity in frame. 

“This is your last chance.”

The woman’s skin prickles, bone structure shuddering… Changing beneath the surface. 

To my horror, the striking hue of Rachel’s iris is swallowed by the void of her pupil. It dilates into an unsettling circumference, wholly disturbing combined with the grimace on her lips. Distracted by the expression, my brain chugs slowly, slow to recognize the tiny pin-pricks poking out across her skin. I can only tear my eyes away due to the kricking and cracking of her joints – her skeletal structure – which grow revoltingly loud. 

She’s transforming. 

Despite it being a slow process, none of it seems painful, per se. Rachel’s body morphs to an unhuman shape; limbs lengthening, fur spearing through the pores… 

The patterned fur takes form, and I realize the dark roots in her hair aren't roots at all. They’re stripes.

Alarm bells are ringing off the hook, threatening tinnitus. Deafened in my state of panic, the breath gets caught in my chest. Rachel’s doubled in size. 

I regret everything and anything that’s led me to this point. 

What the fuck had I just gotten myself into?

“Eat it.”

Intricate swirls, a twisted stem, altogether alien and unlike any fruit she’d ever seen. She didn’t have a clue as to what she was looking at, only the order that was tied to it. 

“Eat it.” 

She didn’t want to. 

“It will make you stronger.” 

Of course. That was all they ever cared about. 

“Lucci has permitted you to join the current mission, if you do.” 

No need for the knife, or the fork. 

The juice was sticky, and slick – dripping down her neck and chin – clinging to her hands like a fresh coat of paint.

It tasted bitter.

A pair of hulking, pawed hands – tipped by glossy, sharpened claws – extend into monstrous, hairy arms, so massive they split the sleeves of her suit. Most of the sleek fabric is maintained around her torso; fur-tufts bursting at the collar, buttons parted at her abdomen… 

Where her lips and nose once showed, there now lies a muzzle, a charred-brown color coating its length to just under her bright blue eyes, framed with a sandy-tan fluff. The high ponytail on her scalp is unkempt, overgrown and flowing into a striping, shaggy mane that lines her spine and leads down to the fluffy tail at her hind. Canine-like legs shred apart her pants at the thigh, paws replacing her feet as they did her hands. 

“What you’ve just eaten is a devil fruit,” 

Rachel’s body is canid-humanoid, like a werewolf; A dogman, or dogwoman, in this case. 

“A zoan type, dog-dog fruit… Aardwolf model.” 

Between her teeth – a caverned, frothing, slobbering maw – rumbles her voice, one I couldn't have even dreamt up in my nightmares. “My soulmate may not give a rat's ass about me… But at least I can handle my own battles.” 

Strings of saliva snap between the folds of her lips, dripping from gums and ivory teeth. It almost looks like a sneer, if an animal's face could perform such an action. 

“I mean, really… You aren’t the one who forced me into this form, that ugly excuse for a cyborg did!” 

Guttural, the words coming from the creature before me are inscrutable as they are startling; Whining at the start of each sentence, the sounds are akin to barking, dwindling into a hyena-esque simper… Yet, she’s not a hyena. She’s something else. Something that I can only assume is a predator, staring me down like I’m her next meal. 

Those eyes, an unnatural azure that once pinned me to the floor, are even worse in this state. Rachel’s pupils have shrunken to tiny dots, quivering and crazed in that vividness – rabid. 

The fur at her back spikes, perched straight along her spine to increase her intimidation. I stand firm, only because my legs are rooted to the ground, and they refuse to budge. The secret, third fear-response – freeze – is in full throttle. Responding isn’t feasible, even if I want to. 

Think.

Full-stop, everything has hit the breaks. Where I could once feel my heartbeat rushing through my jugular, there is a lull. All is quiet, though it’s not at peace.

Such a lack of stimulation is for the benefit of my brain, to dumb-down the automatic motions of my inner-workings so that I can focus. Instead, it’s a detrimental shut down. 

What do I do here? How do I counter this?!

Rachel bends to place a pawed hand against the cement, claws clicking ominously. A pink tongue appears, lapping at her drooling canines. 

My head is swimming, skin sweating. Because – what the fuck – I don’t have anything to defend against a damn werewolf! How was I supposed to know she has a devil fruit?!

–Think of something right now, or you're screwed. 

If not me, what would the others do? What would they do in my place? 

Fight – Well, no shit. 

Oh my god– Forget about that part, just think! 

How does everybody fight? What do they fight with? 

Nami has her clima-tact… Usopp has his sling-shot… Zoro has his swords… Robin and Chopper have their devil-fruits… Sanji fights using his kicking-skillset… And Luffy…

A creeping, coaxing warmth simmers through my muscles. 

“Nuh-uh.” He disagrees, even without knowing what the thinking was about. “No more thinking. That’s bad.” 

I give him an impossible look, eyes squinted. “I can’t just not think, Luffy.” 

“Well, duh. I’m saying not to think about the bad stuff, like before.”

I nearly groan out loud. Even now, that advice does nothing to help. There’s no way he just stops thinking in the middle of a fight! The last time he did that, he went brain-dead with Eneru… That didn’t even work! 

Sweat dripping down the bridge of my nose, flipping through memories like note cards – advice, teachings, watching the others fight – Each one flashes ineffectively in and out of sight, none providing any beneficial insight. I go through the list again, and every time I land on Luffy, the cycle repeats. 

“Nuh-uh. No more thinking. That’s bad.” 

Nami and her clima-tact. Usopp and his slingshot. Zoro and his swords. Robin and Chopper. Sanji, Luffy–

“Well, duh. I’m saying not to think about the bad stuff, like before.”

Why? Why is that the only thing I can think of?! 

That low hum of energy, initially gone unnoticed, flashes hot all at once. The chill on my skin, the goosebumps that have risen, dissipate with the rising temperature… Oh. 

Luffy must be getting fired up. 

I’ve been pushing away all sense of him, intentionally and unintentionally ignoring the pieces of my soulmate that prodded at the back of my mind, and yet the boy had somehow wormed his way in. No wonder I couldn’t stop thinking of him. 

Actually… Luffy told me that Lucci had a devil fruit, didn’t he? And that he’d gotten his ass kicked by the CP9 agent who’d turned himself into a leopard. Half-leopard? Whatever– Not helping. 

“Would ya stop thinking so hard about it already?”

Fine.

Rachel’s eyes glow in the sunlight. Still, she’s at a fair distance. That granted me some comfort, confident that I’d have the moment to try and re-center myself. 

Clear your head. Try.

I hold my next breath, rendering the rest of the world silent. 

Assess. Like Zoro told you. 

Determine the strengths of your opponent, as well as the weaknesses presented by those strengths.

She has to have a weakness. Everyone does, great or small. Where is it? What is it?

Body mass won out over mine. 

Fighting style won out over mine. 

Teeth, claws, her newly established animalistic buffs; all won out over my horrifically weak, human body…

A devil fruit. 

She has a devil fruit. 

“‘The usual?’” Nami repeats, expression falling in a genuine state of ‘r u ok.’ “What do you mean ‘the usual?!’ You’re supposed to have a weapon now so that this stuff doesn’t happen anymore!” 

I have that. 

I can use that. 

Wrapped around my brain in a vice, the anxious bubble I’ve been harboring pops. I could laugh, or cry – It’s almost too good to be true – and I’d forgotten all about it. Astonishment is blanketed by a rise in self-esteem, proud of myself for remembering on my own. Small wins are better than none. 

Stalking forward on all fours, Rachel closes in, having had enough of our staredown. That’s the signal for me to prepare my only means of defense.

Hands flying to the pint-sized pouch at my hip, I fumble to undo the strings that cinch it closed, practically tearing it open. The momentary relief is insurmountable, fingers finding the thick, tangled ropes inside. 

My trump card in this scenario? 

Bolas – Four of them. Each are tied with a rock on one end, half a sea prism stone on the other. 

That day when I’d accidentally punched Usopp after asking Luffy to teach me how, Zoro’s contribution to the topic was the idea for a new ‘weapon.’ Throughout his extensive bounty-hunting career, the swordsman encountered plenty of different adversaries, and many different forms of fighting alongside them. To him, a bola was considered suitable due to my lack of experience and interest in fighting, combined with my limited strengths (throwing & running). 

Bolas were meant for detainment rather than causing injury. For all intensive purposes, these four rock-laden ropes would allow me to restrain whatever enemy I faced, then retreat for aid from one of our friends. 

Here, I wasn’t so certain that would be the case, considering Rachel was a fighter with such ‘renown.’ Therefore, I’d probably have to improvise. If hand-to-hand combat wasn’t going to cut it against Rachel’s beastly physique… Thank god for sea prism stone. 

The woman lumbers closer, growling, getting louder and more ravenous, bridging the space between us. Any moment, and she’d pounce – I was sure of it. 

Then what? The waiting is horrendous. My gaze is flitting all about her body in rapid strokes, trying to stay on top of her first move. Adrenaline has made a comeback.  

There’s a sort of finality that borders the situation… This was it. This would be the final match between me and Rachel. The deciding factor of me winning or failing.

Bile rises. There’s no sure way for this to end. But… Even if Luffy isn’t here, that doesn't mean I can’t do this, right? 

Swallow it down. I may not be the strongest, or the most useful addition to the straw hat crew. Even so, I was a straw hat. I had a duty to uphold, to Luffy, to our friends… Sent ahead by the captain to help, to try and save Robin while he held the major threat at bay, fighting on my own hadn’t been in the cards; yet, here I am, at the crux of battle. 

“Here’s your chance. It’s time to do something about it.”

Maybe I am always ready to give up. To run away, or use somebody else as a bodyguard… Regardless of the past, or the present, or whatever– I don’t want to do that anymore. Everyone else is fighting. If I don’t fight, if I don’t at least try, then there’s a possibility that Robin could be taken away. Robin, who’d been ready to sacrifice everything for us. This, right now, was my contribution to her… To them. 

This is how I return all my favors. 

And if you die? 

That’s what I’m most afraid of.

“Until I die.”

… But, does it matter?

“...Aren’t you scared of dying?”

“Nope.” 

I’ve lost the foundation of my promises – He doesn’t care about dying. What was the point of being so worried when the person affected most wasn’t bothered by it in the first place? 

“Why? Are you?”

“I… Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh. Well… I won’t die, then.”

Does it matter? 

Just… Don’t.

Don’t let yourself die. 

Rachel pads forward. Drawn from self-revelations, I take my new mantra and repeat it, over and over. 

Don’t die… Don’t die… Don’t die… 

It’s the only crutch I have, and I cling to it. 

Cradling the most injured arm close to my chest, the other reaches for my satchel. Those gashes, shielded away from billowing winds, are hot with inflammation. 

Only a handful of times had I used these bolas, and it was not enough to have perfected my aim by any means. Pulling one free from its intertwined brethren, the weight feels awkward in my grasp… I ignore it. I’m doing everything in my power in order to keep my head, and overthinking be damned, it’s working. 

Don’t think too long about that, either. Channel the quiet – Not the peace. That would be too gentle. Resolution serves as a better means. 

As soon as this starts… Don’t give up. Keep trying. 

If you lose, you lose everything.

“Just for the record…” 

Rachel’s ears twitch, so I know she hears me even though it’s nothing but a rasp. 

I look at her… Really look, for a moment… Scrutinizing. There’s a layer of burning coals in my belly, left unstoked for far too long. 

“I am not whiny… Or useless.” Dry-skinned hands catch along the bristled twines in my grip, a sensation that would typically have me cringing. “And I’m not plain, either.”

An inhuman rumble; Rachel bows lower, teeth on full threat-display. 

No turning back. 

“I-I don’t even know why I’m bothering… There’s just no way I’m the whiny one with you bitching and moaning this whole time.”

Brilliant blues snap open at that. Mouth open, Rachel lunges. 

Granted a full view of her tunneled-throat, stiffened limbs move with unbounded urgency; the bola in my hand is slung without faithful aim or proficiency. 

Whether Rachel saw it coming or not, she jerks her head to snap her jaws over the rope. The rocks at each end clack together once, before the pressure in her jaw tightens. Twine snaps apart – then the rocks are bouncing off the ground. 

Three left.

No holds barred, she’s on me in an instant. Her figure casts a shadow overhead. 

Rising up on hind legs, canines at the ready to rip into my flesh–

Rachel’s muggy dog-breath fans across my cheeks – the irons lay heavy on my wrists. I form a fist, swinging with my good arm.

Klunk!

It’s loose, lame and inaccurate; Nonetheless, effective. The metal whales into her beastly snout with a yelping-cry. 

Cyan eyes fly back open before I’m able to pull back. She reels, my wrist passing through empty air, and dips forward– 

Dull molars drive into the plated metal circling your arm, squeezed under the extended bite force of Rachel’s increased size– The irons groan, bending to her whim. 

You aren’t aware of this yourself, how aardwolves are notable for their significant lack of canines. The beasts make up for such a lack of tearing by substituting with a surplus of grinding. 

Metal digs inward, pinching my skin. Harder – The dog-woman refuses to let-up. Spiny teeth catch flesh, something in the bones of my wrist cracks, and I can’t withhold the shriek as it tears from my throat. 

Hands flying to her furred-face, the fingers unwittingly jabbing into the socket of her eye in my meager attempts to push her off. Roaring at the agony of intense pressure placed upon severed muscle, I feel something squish unpleasantly beneath my fingers, and the canine-woman jerks away to save her eyesight, freeing my disgruntled limb; 

Not without a small sacrifice though. One or multiple of her fangs must’ve caught the threads on my wrist; the skittering-scatter of pebbles and seashells informing me of my bracelet's ultimate demise. I only manage to spot one skipping across the rock at our feet. The pretty rock. The one from Luffy. 

With a snort, Rachel regains my attention. She makes a show of gritting down on the metal residing in her jaws, crunching it into jagged scraps. 

A disgusted hack spits the rest to the floor, bits and pieces of the material caught in the back of her throat. Specs of blood have joined the saliva, coating the discarded materials in a vile sheen. 

“Bitching?” The insulted-utterance is jumbled, like she’s got cotton stuffed in her cheeks. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the man that’s supposed to love you… For him to glare at you as if you’re the shit he’s just scraped off his shoe?” 

Blood trickles from the punctures in my skin. They’re minor, and lined perfectly along the sides of my soulmate mark. I can’t worry about the bracelet right now. 

“I used to dream about that man… Every. Single. Day.” It’s as if she’s looking through me, not bothering to directly address me anymore; Or simply not all there to do so. 

I’m uncertain, scanning over the blankness in her gaze… Abruptly, she’s brimming with pure, unadulterated rage. 

“Why the hell does he always look at me like that?!” 

I’m breathing through shards of glass. Why the hell was everyone digging up old memories recently? 

I’m not certain it’s right to feel bad for Rachel after all she’d done. I still did, though. Compared to her, overthinking about somewhat-similar problems was a luxury. After all, my troubles with Luffy had been a product of misinterpretation, or miscommunication… Looking back, it could’ve been so, so much worse. 

Stop it. 

“Lock in.” I whisper, firmness bolstering my determination. “Lock in…” 

Stop feeling bad for her. She’s not your friend. 

Both looking like a couple of lunatics, mumbling to ourselves as we stare into the others eyes, I seek out another bola. Considering the inoperation of one arm, could I somehow keep my distance? I needed to stay as far from her as possible, otherwise I’d have a repeat of being pinned down. 

I need to aim, too. Throwing it without proper form was pointless. Think back. Usopp told you some stuff, even if it wasn’t much. 

“How do I aim? Well, usually I just sorta do it. It’s kinda like second nature at this point!” 

Rachel bounds forwards, Usopp’s smug voice echoing in my head – the memory fast forwards. 

“Although, thinking about it… It’s pretty important to take a deep breath before you shoot– Or, uh, I guess throw, in your case. I dunno if it’ll work the same, but that’s usually what helps to keep steady.” 

A deep breath – the rope twirls towards the oncoming figure, one rock leading the other into a circling-momentum – better than before, but not enough. Both ends tangle prior to reaching Rachel. 

“Shit–” 

Two left.

Rachel races past the bola without any recognition, breathing rough. She wasn’t as fast as she had been during our first round. 

“Oh, but with that, you’re gonna need to swing it around first. If you get it moving it should do most of the work for you, y’know?” 

Like a hell-hound, Rachel leaps, hands outstretched–

I fling myself to the side, a haphazard attempt to dodge–

“Moonwalk!”

Once more the air is punched from my lungs, a sidewise-impact delivering enough force to send me flying. 

Shoulder meets ground, then hip, then skull; body ricocheting, I roll into a havoc-wrecking stop. The first breath I can muster sends a puff of dust flying, rubble digging into my ribs while the onset of bruising blooms, pain lingering to an extent that makes it a challenge to get up. 

Unbeknownst to you, Rachel is no better off. The collision had backfired on her end, nearly vaulting herself over the bridge's edge, overzealous. Sloppy. She was being sloppy. That was the typical sacrifice for this form – agility for power – adding onto her hate for it. 

Half-human, more animal. That’s where her blame was placed. It certainly wasn’t the lack of using the devil fruit powers. How could that contribute to her skill?  

The CP9 agent didn’t often consider things, unless they were surface level. Not the disastrous effect of her wounds, nor her mental state. Rachel was stronger than you, smarter, and had a more developed skillset. Pride insurmountable, the fickle emotion was more than enough to cover up her discomforts and weaknesses; slapping duct tape over a crumbling foundation. 

Ironically, Rachel’s letting herself get the better of… Well, herself. 

Boom!

One explosion after another, although this was close-by. The canon-fire had finally begun. 

“Fucking Spandam…” Rachel snarls through a gritted muzzle, straining to lift her massive frame up from the ground. Their slimy little leader was about to face a reckoning. The destruction of a marine island on his order? Spandam was toast. 

Whatever soreness exists in muscle, in bone, goes entirely ignored – shaking the shag on her back to loosen the dust and rock. The ‘leader’ of CP9 had always been entirely incapable of his position. A whining, sniveling snake of a man who got what he wanted because they got it for him. Spandam never raised a finger to help, ever.

How satisfying… He’d be gone after this. 

Aftershocks rattle my teeth, the concrete quaking under the duress of high-impact explosions. Was this because of the buster call? Franky had mentioned it, right? He’d said the marines would show up soon or something. 

I stay low until the rumbling ceases, grateful for the extra time. Once I’ve risen, I spot Rachel rapidly shaking her head in unrest, floppy ears flapping against her face. It was unreal how authentically she portrayed the characteristics of a dog. Perhaps she was more dog than human in this form? 

Pulse throbbing against my temple, swaying in the wind – there’s an internal reminder that this isn’t over – and I blindly seek out another bola. This was an opportunity… A moment of distraction. 

With one end in my palm, I twirl the other end in rapid circles. The rock thumps my arm once, where I moan and wilt a little. Recalibrating, I struggle to imagine the way that Luffy’d thrown his arm in similar fashion. Think lasso… Or, had he called it a flail? 

Rachel refocuses, matching gazes at the exact moment I throw the weapon in her direction–

It’s not enough. Her reaction time is too swift, hopping over the spot where it might’ve caught her legs. 

One left.

At a loss, I backtrack, toes catching my ankle. I fall; can hear something whistling as it sails through the air, when–

Ka-BOOM!!

The bridge explodes.  

Flung. Flailing… Falling– 

I spot the top of the staircase, aimlessly headed down the stairs. 

I land hard. 

Pop–

My ribs – after landing smack-dab on one of the steps pointed edges. 

Rolling, shoulder over head, head over heel; covering my face doesn’t fare well when you’re given a pair of mangled arms. There’s nothing to do except wait for the momentum to catch, or slow… 

It’s the latter, after a few dozen steps. Then I’m left carpeted across the polished, angled marble. Each foothold digs into my tender skin; prods against weakened muscles; presses awkwardly against freshly sprained bones. It’s unbearable.

Feet pointed towards the base of the stairs, the blurry mass above tells me that Rachel’s brutish body is splayed over the landing, her chest and front hand-paws the only parts visible. She’s not moving. I’m not even sure she’s conscious. 

Closing my eyes, I bite my lip. Inhalation ceases by a pinch in my ribcage as my lungs expand. A teary groan, and hot tears are sliding down my face as I fail to move, the shock rendering me terrifyingly immobile. 

Gripping the cold rock for dear life, coagulated blood smearing in thickened clumps, I shakily try to lift, dropping myself back down instead. Gasping, whimpering, the vibrations of landing on new injuries fly from spine to fingertip, stealing away the ability to use my limbs. 

Just as I ready another attempt, I hear the prip-prip of rocks tittering from the top of the stairs. I blink away the film covering my sights;

Rachel starts to shift. 

A lone, strung-out whine squeezes out of her throat. One of her arms is bent oddly at the elbow. Regardless, it won’t matter if she’s able to use one hand or two – not if I can’t get myself to stand and fight back. 

I’m working with a numbness in my body that’s taken over about forty percent of my nerves. One of my ears is ringing; from the explosion or the landing? I’m not sure. Fingers grasp corners that bear no leverage, joints stiff–

Savagely, a snarl rings out above my head. My spine is screaming, craning to glimpse the CP9 agent as she nears her recovery. 

Panicking, the elongated shriek of agony holds steady in my throat. In a last ditch effort, I toss my hand towards the pouch at my waist. 

Nails clicking rock, Rachel lurches from her slumped position. Teeth dripping with sticky crimson, she hunches on unsteady shoulders, eyes laggardly finding mine. 

My fingertips graze the last bola, hooking it at the exact moment as Rachel vaults her humongous body down the flight of stairs. 

Lobbing the thing takes more effort than I estimated. I strain – it leaves my grasp – my arms collapse out from under me. I’m left at the mercy of fate… or a terrible throw. 

I watch, wide-eyed, as the rope catches her forearm. 

The rocks aid to drag the limb backwards with astounding effectiveness, other arm waving haphazardly in its immobile state. There’s a moment where I can make out the shock spreading over her face. 

Figure hurling overhead with a surprised yowl, there’s a vomit-inducing crunch, followed by a whimpered wheeze. 

Nonetheless, the scrape of Rachel’s nails soon sounds along the rock, writhing in defiance of her bonds. With a crick in my neck, I peer over my shoulder. Only part of the woman is in the limited frame of view; legs and tail squirm and kick and flap– Then, they shrink. Thick fur absorbs back into her skin, her tail disappears in the line of her spine, and what’s left are a pair of kicking, half-clad pair of legs. The suit is torn beyond repair, stretched to where the cloth barely fits anymore. Most importantly… Rachel is still bound by the bola.

The sigh I release is all-encompassing, equally as dispassionate as it is tormented. Dropping my head to the step beneath – a short respite in my fatigue – the fuel of adrenaline sputters out. Out of gas, as I predicted. 

Fuck me, I need a long… Long nap after this. 

All the while, Rachel screams. She’s bellowing, screeching like a madwoman at the top of her lungs. There’s no words; Ineligible, like the shriek of a bob cat… A fox… A mountain lion… Some terrifying animal-made sound, uncannily human, where the very edge of their utterance reveals something is off. Strangely, it reminds me of Azula, breathing blue fire as she shrieks and sobs… And I’m late to understand that Rachel may be crying, too. 

Boom– Boom! Boom!

It’s getting more frequent now. Had Franky made it to Robin yet? He hadn’t come back that whole time… It might’ve only been a few minutes, but… Did they get blown up? Oh, God…

My first movements are that of a crawl, pathetically weak under the extreme physical duress. Lifting myself is nonsensical – rationale and constant reprimands from Chopper in the past tell me it’s better to stay put – Regardless, he wasn’t here, and I needed to make sure Robin was okay. Franky too. 

And Luffy? 

He’s okay. Tired – Yet still up and kicking. I can say that for certain. Dunno how, but it doesn’t matter. That’s a good thing. 

Time is both slowed and sped up. It takes me a while to make my way up to the landing. By the time I do, the explosions all around us have thrown me off my balance twice in spite of the fact I was crawling on hands and knees.  

What awaits me is a decimated battlefield. The bridge is in shambles; debris scattered randomly about… Scraps of cloth, spatters of blood… Bolas, fallen in battle, and an enormous gap that entails the promise of a deadly fall. Was this the result of the second explosion? No possibility existed where I was crossing that. 

Knees creaking under my weight, returning to a stand takes a few clumsy steps to re-acclimate. Eventually, I manage, soaking up the interrupted silence of a finalized battle bordered by incoming warships. They’re on the horizon by the dozens. By the hundreds. 

In the distance, I spy the bright flash of Franky’s hair amongst a crowd of blue and white. Scanning once, twice, more times than I can count; I catch Robin’s dark figure weaving between the collage of marines. It wasn’t definitive proof, yet it had to be enough, since I couldn’t accurately determine anything without some extra help to get over the chasm. 

Slightly discouraged, I gather my wits. There’s a few things I should get before heading back to Luffy. 

First comes retrieving the bolas. It’s extra time that I shouldn’t really be wasting, although the materials to make my weapons were fairly important in their own right. Sea prism stone wasn’t easy to come by… We’d already split two stones in order to make the four bolas. At the idea of losing any of them, I can only imagine the disappointment from Zoro, or Usopp; Or worse, Nami’s wrath if we had to buy extras. 

None of that makes bending at the waist, crouching down, or using my doubly-injured arms any less grueling. I grimace, falling back a step, righting myself – I’d really overdone it, and probably still was. 

A sparkle catches my eye. The pebble. Luffy’s pebble, buried in a pile of dust and rock. 

A few straggling steps, and I’m wiping some of the grime clear to ensure it was my rock, pocketing it without question. Right – the bracelet. I’d have to remake one, sadly. 

One last scan over the horizon…

Rachel hasn’t stopped screaming. Not once.  

“Thes’ fuckin’ ropes–” 

Saliva floods her mouth; maybe blood. She’s not sure. 

All she knows is that her words are obstructed because of it – and that was the fault of these stupid ropes–

The bola had knotted itself into a tight ball, tangling further with her rapid, constant movement. Wrist and ankles bound, the snapped-arm flopping about – there remains only one thing on her mind. 

You. This was your fault. But, she couldn’t be stuck because of you, cus’ that would mean–

Scuffing footsteps reach the bottom of the steps. 

Face wet, flushed, Rachel never stops struggling to release herself from the bonds. You were her mission, and if she was stuck like this, than that meant–

“You failed.”

Looking down upon Rachel’s writhing-self, the wetness of her face catches me off-guard… I’m unsure on how to proceed. 

If the purpose of my weapon was to contain, then I needed to leave and find Luffy, as intended; But, what about the Buster Call? What happens if we have to leave? If no one else finds her, then…

Damn it. I’ve never fought anybody before. What am I supposed to do in this kind of situation? Hope someone comes and gets her? Hope she doesn’t get blown to smithereens? 

What other choice do you have? Gonna help her up? Let her loose? 

“I-I’m…”

The woman almost hadn’t heard you through the many memories of Lucci’s disappointment. 

“I’m sorry.”

You walk into view, circling around, maintaining an overly-safe distance. Rachel stills, grits her teeth – staring – quiet, and in the dark corners of her chest, something sways. Because you’re looking at her with pity, for the first time in a long time– 

Because you’re looking at her like she’s human. 

The woman lashes out, “S-Sorry? You’re sorry–?!”

“I’m sorry…” You interrupt, stern, though awkward in stance. 

Hesitant, now – soft; 

“That you don’t feel like you’re enough.” 

It feels wrong to leave without saying something about it. So, I do. Rachel’s experience, if all true, sounded like a living nightmare. 

I didn’t have any details. There were no specifics to build off of these assumptions other than her discontented shouting, yet, to never have your fears soothed… To have your fears confirmed by the one who’s meant to uplift and protect… To live in a state of constant self-surveillance… To live with a practical abuser… 

I’d lived through that before. 

“But, you… You tried to kill me, so…” There’s still some sense of detachment. I believe that’s what allows me to leave her as she is. “A-And I can’t just… I can’t let you ruin what I have.” 

Speaking out against all her ridiculing from the moment we met, I wonder if she understands what I’m implying. Nonetheless, I need to go. 

Turning on my heel, there’s one last urge… One last thing to say. I juggle the thought around in my head, a light limp in my step, cradling my aching ribs with a wrapped arm. What would I want to hear, in her place? 

Staring at the ground, I pause, my shadow fading into the darkened spaces of the overhang. The exit’s right here, in front of me. 

“Also… I, uh… I hope…” 

Swallowing down the small lump in my throat, trying not to look back–

“I hope you get to see more colors, one day.” 

Rachel chokes. 

She’s frozen, staring at your back as it heads towards the door. Every time Rachel blinks, she flickers in and out of memory… 

Her vision blurs, and she can’t see anything, anymore. 

That view from the floor– 

That slanted, skewed perspective as she bled out on the training-floor–

And Lucci’s figure; The back of his head, which never once looked back at her. 

Rachel’s rousing-despair, crowing at your back, is cut-short by the slam of a door… Replaced by the silent, damp darkness of an empty hallway. 

—

Tidbit(s) Today!

Let’s do a little character/chapter breakdown, and sprinkle in some fun facts:

Rachel is Austrian (Lucci is Italian).

Rachel is 26 years old (Lucci is 28). They met when she was 14 and when he was 16.

Her last name, Weiser, literally means “wise.”. 

Her power level amongst CP9 is roughly 570. That’s in between Spandam (500) and Kalifa (630). Lucci’s power level is 4,000.

Lucci also sees the world in black and white, but around Rachel he can receive an array of color; Most often it’s blues or reds. 

Imagine being tied to a person who can never show weakness, who inherently rejects vulnerability, whilst causing them to be those exact things if you get too close… That’s what it’s like for Rachel to be tied to Lucci as a soulmate. 

Lucci often compares Rachel’s abilities as “lesser than a hyena,” or “lesser than an average wolf,” – the first being symbolic for his leopard-counterpart being greater than the well-known scavengers, while the second just serves as an insult.

The aardwolf, while closer related to a hyena, is an insectivore. This reflects on Rachel’s characterization of being ‘out of place’ amongst her comrades, ripped from a normal life to become part of the organization rather than being raised in it from the start. 

This insectivore-nature also applies to Rachel outside of her devil fruit, occasionally referring to her enemies as ‘insects’ – Rachel refers to (Y/n) as such in Chapter 51, during her initial introduction. 

If Lucci hadn’t been raised to be a ‘living weapon’ by the world government, he would’ve eventually met Rachel on her island whilst traveling. In another universe, they would’ve settled down as a normal family there, children and all. 

For this, Rachel hates the marines. She fully blames them for everything that’s happened to her, and rightfully so – they ruined her life, and they ruined her soulmate. To her, she never had the chance to meet who he truly was. Lucci had been groomed at an early age to fulfill his duties, so realistically, she never could’ve met another side of him at all. 

Rachel is not sane anymore (if that wasn’t obvious enough). She tried for a very long time to hold onto her humanity while the government tried to mentally condition her otherwise. Tortured and isolated, while resisting their ‘training’ her emotions essentially backfired. Extremely unstable, swapping and snapping on a dime, she allows them to drive her – still desperately clinging to the belief that they are the best parts of her. Sometimes, they still are (and there is a key moment where this was shown in a past chapter).

Rachel is unaware of the fact that she is being ‘brainwashed’ to work so hard in her efforts to be worthy of Lucci. This wasn’t done intentionally by the marines, rather it developed through Rachel, who became hellbent over the idea of Lucci being the only person left in her life to care for her (an aftereffect of the many years of training she had to endure in isolation). 

Rachel does not hate (Y/n) specifically for having a soulmate. She harbors a hate for all other soulmates in general… It’s just an added bonus that (Y/n) also happens to be a good person.

(Y/n) would never have been able to beat Rachel if Luffy and Franky hadn’t brought her down a few pegs first. 

Only one of Rachel’s weapons remains. It’s broken, though much better off than the one that fell off the bridge. 

The entirety of this chapter took place within less than ten minutes, but the Buster Call is nearly at-hand.  

The idea behind Rachel and Lucci’s soulmate bond is somewhat of an experiment on the author's behalf. They’re based on the idea of fate and destiny, rather than being two halves of a whole – after all, there are many different kinds of soulmates in this world. 

Rachel is, symbolically, the culmination of all of (Y/n)’s ‘what-if’ scenarios; simultaneously created as a foil/mirror character for our main character. Her and (Y/n) share a surprising amount of similar traits, and while her story is intentionally tragic, MC’s is the opposite. Rachel will never be able to achieve her dream of being accepted, of being worthy of her soulmate, without completely destroying who she is in the process. 

The lesson, for (Y/n), is very clear – Things could always be much, much worse – and this will change her attitude over the soulmate bond for the better. 

The below image is what the author imagines Rachel to look like when her devil fruit is activated. She appears more animal than human due to her unhinged emotional state – building on the theory that Zoan-type’s are eventually overtaken by their devil fruit. (The teeth visual is to show that aardwolves don’t have the same tooth-structure as other canines… Though it’s not super accurate, sorry lol). 

The soles of Luffy’s sandals slide awkwardly against the smooth turquoise pyramid, unable to find their grip on the decorative feature, which caps each marble column like miniature rooftops. He’d jumped atop the rock with blood caking his hands, sticky between the webs his fingers, coating his knuckles in dried flakes. Staring determinedly up at the building, there’s not a doubt in the captain's mind that his crew’s missing member is behind those pearly walls. The last destination.

The captain sucks in a deep breath, dense in his lungs; 

“Robin!” Bellowing into the sky with arms bared, eyes closed in earnest, the boy's straw hat nearly tips from its crowning position. “I’ve come to get you!” 

Well, if Robin couldn’t hear him, then everyone else on the whole damn island must’ve heard him instead. Luffy always put all his energy into every little thing, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise for his volume to be the same – ricocheting off of buildings just like his rubbery abilities. 

From my spot, tucked against the sharpened corner of the same column he’s stood upon, I can make out my soulmate's stomach growling. I watch as a tanned palm comes to slap blindly at his torso, awaiting Robin’s response or whoever else’s that was able to provide. 

“I guess I’ve been running around a lot, huh.” In the midst of his contemplation Luffy reaches into his pockets. “Good thing I came prepared…” 

Confusion slows my train of thought, and I recognize his goal too late, soon horrified when I turn my attention to the bulging, greasy-soaked cloth. Grabbed by the bone like a handle, the boy has to wiggle the two hunks of meat a few times to squeeze them from their confines. When they do come free, Luffy waves them forward and above his head in triumph, slinging chunks and oil along the way. 

“...with a meal!” 

Grimacing, I can’t avoid the twinge of disgust when the boy lowers one into his mouth – widened and unhinged as a snake’s – to tear everything from the bone in one motion. The remains are cast aside once deemed inedible, as he’d done similarly with the skewers at the fireworks all those weeks ago. Cheeks already stuffed with the previous bite, he goes for the next, not bothering to swallow. 

Back then, when we first met, I never imagined my soulmate to be this gluttonous. The boy was always insatiable, and while that part didn’t bother me so much, I always marveled at his ability to eat anything. Even now, amidst my disgust, I didn't even want to think about what a slab of roasted meat must’ve tasted like; Stale, grease soaked and shoved in a pocket for however many hours.

“...Why do you always shove everything in your pants?” Completely forgoing my usual filter, I find myself asking with genuine curiosity and borderline ick, reminiscing on the pink octopus incident. Well… At least this time he’d kept these in his pockets. 

Canines ripping off a hunk of the med-rare roast, Luffy chews, swallows down a massive mouthful that bulges comically through his neck, and completely disregards the crumbs around his mouth. “I dunno. Where else am I supposed to put stuff?” 

I pause. He pauses. We both blink at each other without an answer. 

“...Valid, I guess.” 

“Yup.” Shrugging, Luffy plants a hand on his hip. “Here, you want some? It’s good, n’ it’ll probably help since you’re tired.” 

Thrusting the meat forwards as if wielding a spear, he makes his offer, blunt as usual. Scrunching my nose, I raise a hand and shake my head, backpedaling from the ‘aged’ morsel. “N-No, I’m good.” 

“You sure?” Unfazed, he shrugs when I shake my head again. “Okay then, more for me!” 

Back to eating once more. 

With a deep exhale, leaning my full body-weight onto the cool rock, I warily eye the fallen CP9 agent. He lies still, and silent, just the same as the ten separate times I’d snuck a glance. That sense of anxiety hadn’t dwindled away yet. An itch I couldn’t quite scratch, buried beneath layers of cottony-exhaustion – Like a bug bite hidden beneath a woolen coat. The looming dread was throwing me off. Why did I still feel so nervous? Knowing Luffy’s fighting prowess, that man surely wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. 

“This is yummy!” My soulmate chirps in delight, tearing the last chunk away with a closed-eyed grin. Energy stirs – revving back to life with the last bit of his meal – an ability that Luffy had which was equally as bewildering as the one allowing him to stomach such rancid foods. 

I knew Luffy could recover after a short rest, even better if he found something to eat… However, this was just ridiculous. This kid had been super tired mere moments before, yet was perfectly fine after a quick snack? Two helpings of meat on the bone (emphasising that they’re not nearly enough to fill his appetite, by the way), and the exhaustion had been zapped away in seconds. 

Pain throbs at my temples. I raise my hand and plant a palm there, closing my eyes, closing out the world. A stress headache. At this point, maybe I should just stop questioning everything. 

Boom!!

The explosion bursts into sound out of nowhere, both of us instantly whipping our heads toward the sound. Caught off guard, it takes a moment for my brain to process what I’m seeing. 

An open, crumbling hole in the wall – a broad figure splayed across the iron fence of a high-up balcony – the flash of bright blue hair – the fence sinking dangerously under his weight, balanced precariously over the edge–

Crreaak–

The metal rods which keep the fence perched in its place begin to snap under the weight, followed by a surprisingly girly shriek of terror.

Clasping the slanted edge of the rock, I recognize the man too late. Panic bundled in my lungs, my breath catches. “F… Franky!” 

Luffy hums, eyes scanning the figures that dip lower and lower… Wait, figures, plural?

My eyes don’t deceive me. A resounding battle cry, then Franky snatching up the other, smaller person – clad in black leather and tanned skin – prior to launching them both to the safety of the marble balcony. Franky was still with Robin. We weren’t too late. 

Sights flicking over the abrupt emptiness, tense in the quiet. I await some sort of movement… A sign that the two were still up there. 

Appearing out of nowhere, an abnormally large forearm pokes into view with a thumbs up. 

“Made it up, no sweat!” 

The relief shows through a drawn out, exhausted sigh. Franky’s the first to appear over the stone railing, much to Luffy’s bemusement. 

“Good to see you here, Shrimp!” 

Offering a tired, basically half-assed wave in return, I can’t muster up another yell just yet. My ears were ringing, for whatever reason. 

“...Wait, is he talking to you?” Looking between the two of us in perplexity, Luffy pipes up once it’s clear I’m not replying. “He calls you ‘Shrimp?’ Why?” 

“Uh… I– I dunno,” and I truly don’t, as I retrace my memories and fail to remember if Franky ever actually explained the nickname. “He just… Does?” 

With specific scrutiny, Luffy assesses the man across the way – a past enemy that he’s deemed friend purely on association for helping his friends and soulmate – then, a thought pops into his head. 

“Hey, how come I don’t get to make a nickname for you?” Luffy’s whirling around next, fists clenched and arms raised. “We’re soulmates– How come he gets a nickname and I don’t?! That’s not fair!” 

Clearly, the boy is offended by this. Outraged, even. 

“...Uh… I…” Taken aback, I’m speechless for a solid five seconds. Was this actually a conversation right now? “I-I don’t… Know? I-It’s not like we gave each other nicknames– He just started calling me that!” 

“Well, I want a nickname for you, too!” 

“S-So… Maybe, um… Make one up?” At a loss, I’m befuddled by whatever it is we’re suddenly fighting about. He was mad because he didn’t have a nickname for me? “I’m… Like, really confused right now.” 

“Stop it!” 

Shredding through the air, reminiscent of a razor through paper, Robin’s voice reverberates across the landscape, laden with desperation. 

We hadn’t noticed her appearance until then, snapping our heads in her direction after briefly being caught up in the menial squabble. Seeing the woman now, standing tall as the wind billows through disheveled black threads of hair, my heart sinks. The archeologist's clothing is strewn, and there’s a darkly spotted tiredness sinking in the hollows of her eyes. Even when she stood with such purpose, I’d never seen her so broken-down. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? I won’t return to you guys– I’m not part of your crew anymore!” Exasperated, a slew of reprimands ensues. “So, just go away… I don’t wanna see your faces again!” 

The top half of Robin’s body leans out over the railings edge, hands still chained behind her back, and every syllable feels constructed to thwart us from all our efforts; An attempt at belittling us for even trying. 

“Why did you come to save me in the first place? Why can’t you just let me go?!” Robin was beyond frustrated, that much was clear. Shoulders heaved, burdened by exertion, shouting with all her might. Her voice shudders – strained, breaking. 

When there’s nothing we have to say in return, the archeologist sways back, hunched and quaking. It was as if she could barely stand on her own two feet. 

“This isn’t what I want…” The words wilt at the edges, relinquishing their previous means of bartering. “For the last time, I don’t want you here! Do you hear me?” 

Overwrought, unsure of what else is left to resort to, Robin’s voice cracks, thickened with defeat; There, what ends up slipping out eradicates her perfectly layered mask entirely. 

“I just want to die!” 

The attitude shifts. 

Only a few words. Just five, meager words – and yet they alone rewrite the narrative. 

All-encompassing wretchedness saps all the goodness away, and the fear, and all that’s leftover is an ache. An anguish. Grief, and I know it well. 

The admittance, laid bare and unrestrained, takes its time to settle. Yet it eventually comes to rest, sprinkling like salt over cold skin. Briny, textured, and prickled as the breeze picks up. 

Soaking into the flesh, I wonder if that’s the reason behind the sour taste in my mouth, the shriveling burn in my throat. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to say. 

The salt stings. It seeps into aching muscle, brittling bones and absorbing whatever it can find, a dry wasteland left behind. 

What are you supposed to say, faced with such an incomprehensible, unthinkable confession? When your friend takes the stand, and confesses that they wish they were dead? What do you even think? When – this whole time – you hadn’t even considered the possibility, just to discover that it was fact. That you’d be fighting to get to someone that doesn’t want to be saved… 

So, then… How are you supposed to help someone who doesn’t want to be saved? 

I just watch her, unmoving, catching the glossy glint of tears that brew within the tightness of clenched teeth and quivering lips. Robin had never cried before, so the notion of such sorrowful actions solidifying her words is almost gruesome to ingest.  

Robin wanted to die? 

Left to my devices, struggling to accept that another of my closest friends had been withholding such a horrific demon, I spot Franky burst into the scene from the sidelines once again. He barks something at the archeologist, seething, though I don’t pay attention to the words. My head is swimming with contemplations of resignation, denial, grief–

Someone appears midair, snapping me back to reality. The figure delivers a swift kick to the cyborg's jaw. Being flung out of sight, collapsing yet another wall with his reinforced body, it seems that Franky has been banished from the situation as a whole. In the spot where the cyborg once stood there’s a tall figure with a long nose, dressed head to toe in black. Kaku. 

Like rats, where one exists, others soon appear. Half of them step from the ruined opening of the building, and the others zip up the building from an unknown location; seven members of CP9 take their stations, standing guard beside their captives. We can’t hear their conversations despite their mouths moving, and I can only hope to assume that they’re staring down at the body of their fallen comrade. 

A myriad of strange characters (one of them supposedly had a zipper for a mouth??), as always, their presence clogs the air, even at a distance. Bull-Guy had been daunting, yet he could never amount to the sheer pressure of the others, specifically Lucci and Kaku. Their eyes pass over us – intuition keen to brand me with baseless instincts of fight or flight – the subtle increase of my heart rate serving as a warning.

Rachel’s up there, too. Out of all her comrades, she appears to be the most out of place, overly unkempt and a few steps apart from the main group. Balled up like the origination of a human-sized fist, her suit is dusty and torn at the waistline, hair disheveled. The dirty blonde is matted with red in some places, all the way to her darkened roots. Honestly, I had an inkling that she was being shamed, but for what, I didn’t know. 

“Robin!” Disrupting my scrutiny is Luffy, who calls up to our friend with cupped hands and visible mystification, reflecting my concerns for Robin to the letter; The only difference being that he’d been brave enough to call her out on it. “You really wanna die?”

A shrill guffawing intrudes, bypassing Robin’s chance to answer. I’ve never seen him before, although I was certain I would’ve noticed someone like him had we met, with his greasy purple hair and a sickly pale face. Has he never experienced daylight or something? 

“Listen to his pathetic shout!” 

Though just as arrogant as the rest, he’s for sure the oddball over Rachel, with that bronze-metal-mask covering a majority of his features. The accessory did nothing but highlight his horribly sunken sunken eyes… Seriously, why did this man look so ill? 

“I can only imagine the look on his…” Trailing off, the smile wipes from his face in an instant, jaw dropping mid laugh. 

Looking back at my soulmate, the source of his stunned expression, I’m about an inch away from slapping a hand to my forehead, or having a stroke. Either option was fine, being real.  

Choosing now as the most opportune moment, Luffy was in the process of thoughtlessly rummaging through his nose with his pinky, knuckle-deep. “What the heck are you talkin’ about?” 

Once again, I find myself at odds with my taste in men… On the bright side, I’m no longer being suffocated by depression, I guess.  

“H-He’s picking his nose?!” The unknown man screeches, agitated by the captain's disgusting and disrespectful actions. There wasn’t even an acknowledgment over the fact that Luffy had straight up ignored the man (to which the boy would continue to do so throughout this entire interaction.)

Anyways… It’s not that there’s a lack of care in Luffy’s question. He spoke unintentionally– Er, well… It was intentional, considering the boy and his brutal honesty, although he always said it with the utmost care for his friends. Personally, I find it hard to fathom why that was the best he could come up with in response to our friend's grave profession. Even so, it wasn’t like I knew what to say either, and I’d already placed all my trust in him to fix this. 

The ground rumbles beneath my feet. The bull-guys limp body is my first culprit, and when he keeps his fallen-log stance, I fail to find a proper source right away. 

“Listen, Robin… That won’t work.” Continuing to pick his nose, mid-speech, he pays no mind to the sudden cracking of the roof. The building quakes harder in response to its stature being destroyed from the inside out. “We’re already here, and it was a lot of trouble!” 

Wide-eyed, I watch the marble groan and strain, cracking at the seams and disassembling one by one. The stone bulges outward like an opening flower, and whatever’s on the other side isn’t letting up. “U-Uh… Luffy?” 

The boy grunts, removes his finger from his nasal cavity, flicks the booger away without a care – and to my misfortune – lassos that same arm around my waist, reeling me over the column and into his side. As if on cue, the flattened-rooftop explodes in a whirlwind of rock, dust, and air. I’m unable to dwell on my revulsion of him for too long because of it. 

Smothered by roaring winds and plummeting rubble, faint cries can be heard from within. They don’t sound familiar, not until the current dissipates, revealing three figures soaring high in the sky. The largest of the figures I don’t recognize as anyone we know, but the other two are unmistakable. 

“So, we’re gonna rescue you anyways.” Luffy, ignoring the wailing cries of our friends experiencing an unfathomably steep drop, continues his spiel. “N’ if you still wanna die after we’re all back together, well… That’s your choice.” 

“Landed!” Nami exclaims proudly, nailing her touchdown by taking a knee with her head bowed, arms spread out at the sides. I’m impressed, though only between the few seconds of the navigator's excellent landing and Chopper’s not-so-excellent one. The poor doctor, in his humanoid form, lands on his neck and shoulders with a ‘thwump’ and a painful squeal. 

Planting a firm hand against my soulmate's front, pulled chest-to-chest whilst attempting to balance amongst the tremors, I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet. Within Luffy’s vicinity I suppose I’ve randomly received a random surge of faux energy, as spying a glimpse of green hair amidst the destruction warrants reassurance… Dare I say excitement. Our friends were here, and that meant we had a chance of actually getting our friend back, regardless of everything she so incessantly claimed. 

Luffy’s words register in the background, most of my focus centered around his resolve regarding our mission, which strengthens my own. Reinvigorated, I remind myself to stand by my past beliefs. Robin didn’t want this, that didn’t make sense; 

To be human, there lies an undeniable will to live, even in the face of the impossible… Innately, everyone wanted to be saved, regardless of courage or fear.

“Ow… Ow– Ow–” On his hands and knees with a large, paw-like hand preserving the painful lump from further injury, Chopper groans in discomfort. 

“Looks like you landed on your head,” Concerned, Nami steps in to assist our youngest member. “Are you okay?” 

“I-I’ll be fine,” Taking a deep breath, the doctor sits up. His scrunched expression tells otherwise. “But, what the heck just happened?” 

The answer to Chopper’s question finally rises from the gaping wide chasm – which, presumably, the perpetrator himself created – Zoro. 

“There we go,” The swordsman grits, pulling up to his knees. “That was much easier than dealin’ with those stupid stairs… Should’ve come up here like this from the start.”

“Zoro!” Accusatory in both tone and body language, Nami points at the disinterested man and tears into him without missing a beat. “I knew it was you! You’re lucky we got out of the way in time, if that thing had hit us head-on we’d be dead right now!” 

“Oh, you’re here too?” 

Off a ways, another section of the rooftop bends – shudders – with a low crumbling of rock, and then–

Boom!!

“Dash! Boar Stew Shoot!” 

Sanji manifests from the dust cloud concealing his figure, heel extended, poised for action. Skillfully, the blond curves into a flip; spinning head over heels a multitude of times, descending into a crouch with one arm extended, whilst the other angled into a… Wait a second, is he dabbing? I didn’t teach them that, did I?

“I’m the first to arrive, without a doubt.” Oozing with gentlemanly confidence, as per usual, Sanji fails to open his eyes to accurately assess the situation. “Now, I’ve kept Robin waiting long enough. Time for her prince to…” 

His romantic intentions taper off, eyes slowly opening to find– 

Zoro. Judgemental gaze overlooked for once, Sanji’s concerns are overtaken by the unbelievable sight of a full, lush-green afro. 

“Mosshead?!” 

The chef blinks, and Zoro’s hair returns to normal; Fine and shortly trimmed, like a lawn. 

First comes questioning his own sanity, having literally hallucinated, then comes spite. “How the hell did you get here before me?!”

“Finally made it, huh?” Slouched, arms splayed over his criss-crossed thighs, Zoro gloats cockily (neglecting to mention that they’d been literal seconds apart from appearing at the same time). “What took you so long? Ya’ get lost, or somethin?” 

“Ho-ho-ho, woah, woah, woah, woah,” Laughing dryly, Sanji ducks his head and shakes it, bearing a wry, aggravation-twisted grin. He looks about three seconds away from lunging at the swordsman. “Don’t you dare– Don’t even go there!” 

Tip-toed, I fall back onto my heels. With a tight grip on his forearm, I smack my hand to Luffy’s chest urgently. It’s not sharp, nor was its aim to deliver pain, though it manages to work in garnering his attention quickly. 

“Everybody’s here,” I point out, actively jabbing a finger over his shoulder, “Look!” 

Briefly, Luffy glances in the same direction, but in no time at all he’s already looking back at you. He’d known everyone was here – he could hear them well-enough – so he was certain that they’d all seen him and you, too. Even so, the way your face lit up whilst relaying the information had him nodding heedlessly along to the obvious observation, snickering, “Yep. Knew they’d be here on time.” 

Perhaps him eating that meat had some effect on you as well… There were still bags pulling at the skin under your eyes; The bruising of your chin remained a discolored mar on your skin; And yet, your cheeks glowed, lifted over a gentle smile; Your fingers warm where they pressed into the skin beneath his collar bone. 

You were better than before. That was good, so he tugs you ever-closer to relish in that fact, chest against chest with you peeking over his shoulder all the while.  

Coming out of left field is a new figure, jetting through the air, mimicking the ear-piercing shriek of a missile shot high in the sky; Uso– Sorry… Sniper King joins the fray. He has his hands clutched into a tight prayer, stiff as a board and terrified to the bone, screaming the whole time. 

The commotion has you palming his chest once more with hushed glee; “Look, look, look–” 

“S-Sniper King!” The first to audibly recognize him otherwise was Chopper. 

“What…?” Incredulous, Nami gapes up at the stiffened shadow, cape flapping about in the wind. “He’s flying!”

“Awesome!” 

“Where’s he been all this time?” Sanji grunts, a cigarette bitten between his lips. Not as impressed as the reindeer, the chef keeps his hands tucked away in his pockets.

Zoro, squinting under the haze of the sun, grimaces. “How… Is he going to land?” 

Crash!

Answer: He doesn’t.

“Sniper King!”

Wincing, I trail the path of the others as they rush to his aid – Chopper reaching the masked man first, grabbing him by the legs to yank him free. As expected, when the inertia inevitably wore off, Sniper King dive-bombed into the drag of gravity’s inevitable grasp, planted head first in the marble.  

“Rough landing…” I mumble. 

“Eh, he’ll probably be fine.” Luffy shrugs halfheartedly. “Oh, right – You haven’t met Sniper King yet, have you? He’s super cool!” 

“Oh. Uh, yeah…” Side-eyeing the captain, I make a mental note over his lack of awareness over Sniper King’s true identity, and make a split-second decision. “I have, actually… Met him, I mean. On the train.”

“You did? He never told me that.” 

“(Y/n)?!” 

Likely overhearing the conversation, the keen-eared Navigator yelps my name from afar. It has me turning, instantly finding the whole crew facing our direction. All movement has ceased at the sound of my name.

The navigator, hands clasped in the space just under her chin, meets my eyes. I wave awkwardly, having not anticipated the overwhelming positive reaction. At this, she beams, hurrying over to our location with a pep in her step. “Omg, I can’t believe it– You’re here!” 

Pausing in his efforts of dislodging Sniper King, mid-tug, Chopper’s face falls in surprise. He, too, shouts it across the landscape upon registering that Luffy and I are standing together. Blue nose twitching, in spite of his quivering bottom lip, he never lets the tears fall. “(Y-Y/n)! You’re okay– Th-Thank goodness!” 

Zoro nods, somewhat – probably the best acknowledgement I’d get during his moment of aura farming. 

Sniper King’s legs begin to squirm, running out of air. Chopper jolts, swiftly resuming all attempts to extract the other's body from the wreckage. 

“(Y/n), my angel!” Meanwhile, Sanji twirls into various heart shaped positions, prancing like a deer mere steps behind the navigator. “I was just on my way to save you– Thankfully you’re unharmed, and just as beautiful as I remember!” 

Face wrenching into a sourpuss, Luffy sulks. “Hey, I’m here too, y’know… Your captain? Remember?” 

“Uh, yeah? Our captain who abandoned us on that death-trap of a sea train– Which, by the way, crash-landed into the island!” Hands slapping to the turquoise rock, Nami glares at the boy ferociously. “Now, stop selfishly hogging your soulmate all to yourself! I want a hug too, y’know!”

Veering back, Luffy shifts so that I’m placed opposite from the fiery redhead. Her jaw drops, flabbergasted. I blink owlishly at the side of my soulmate's face – unable to depart even if I wanted to – slightly bewildered on what had warranted that response. 

“No way! She’s my girlfriend– You have to wait your turn, I just got her back!”

“Wha– Are you fr?” Outraged, the navigator sets out to climb up the column herself. “You’re being ridiculous! It’s not like you’re the only one that was worried!” 

“Y-Yeah, well… You guys lost her before!” 

“Don’t try to pin the blame on us, idiot!” Seethingly defensive, smoke spirals from the top of Nami’s head. She retorts almost immediately. “You’re the one that left her with us in the first place!” 

“Nuh-uh– I don’t trust you!” 

Frankly, the argument isn’t taking up much of my brain space at the moment… Girlfriend. Luffy’d called me his girlfriend. Now that I think about it, he’d been calling me that more often recently, hadn’t he? 

“Well if I’m so un-trustworthy, then why the hell does she look all beat up again?!” 

Nami’s accusation draws me from my thoughts with a start. Before I can speak up on my soulmate's behalf, a palm slaps to cup over my lips, sparking an aching bloom in my jaw. His hand is rough, and warm– and squeezing just a little bit too tight. 

“What do you mean beat up?” Sweating, Luffy purses his lips and averts his eyes – the biggest sign out of all that he’s straight lying. “I don’t see anything.” 

“Quit avoiding the subject, dumbass!” As the navigator makes a grab for Luffy’s ankle, the manner in which he evades nearly sends us into the depths – jerking his foot away too fast at the last second. “Every single time we leave you two alone, (Y/n) ends up coming back covered in bruises– Or worse! If you have a soulmate you should at least be taking care of her instead of being stupid all the time!” 

“J-Just– Wait a second!” Unable to contain the terror in my pitch as Luffy leans perilously backwards in his unbalance, I struggle to divert the redhead's wrath, lest we fall from the sky for the second… Third… How many times had we fallen out of the sky? Nevermind– “Um– N-None of these are Luffy’s fault, I-I… I got these after we all got separated earlier!” 

That’s sufficient enough reasoning for her to stop sabotaging Luffy’s (and I’s) position. In fact, her expression takes on an eerie inquisition, skeptical. “So… If that didn’t happen with Luffy, and it didn’t happen with us… Then, how’d you get all banged up?” 

“Um…” Wavering, ensuring that Luffy’s not about to let us experience a water-death is my primary concern. It’s not exactly the best moment to explain all that had happened. “Y-Y’know, just, like… The usual?” 

“‘The usual?’” Nami repeats, expression falling in a genuine state of ‘r u ok.’ “What do you mean ‘the usual?!’ You’re supposed to have a weapon now so that this stuff doesn’t happen anymore!” 

Having made his way over, Zoro raises a brow at Nami’s claim, averting his sights to me. 

I’m in trouble.

“W-Well…” Voice trembling in embarrassment (and lowkey fear), I can’t match Zoro’s expectant glare. “Uh…” 

The subtle squinting of his eyes relays the expectation of an answer; You have been using your weapon, right? Like we’ve been training you to do? Right? 

A moment… 

Then another… 

And another…

Spit fills my mouth like glue, difficult to swallow as everyone’s focus centers on me, including Luffy. Progressively, heat rises to my face– Hotter and hotter. 

Utterly mortified, I’m ashamed to admit it out loud. 

I’d completely forgotten about my new weapon. 

I must be the color of a tomato, tentatively palming the small satchel that’s been tied around my waist from the very start – trying and failing to shield my face, or at least blend into Luffy’s vest… Would camouflage work? 

Needless to say, I think they all know the answer based on my reaction. 

I bite the bullet.

“I… I forgot.” 

Nami and Zoro are simultaneous in their judgemental stares, sighing with closed eyes. They looked like two stressed out older siblings, which exacerbates my humiliation tenfold.

I’m not sure how it could get any worse, until Luffy snorts, nearly doubling over with his uncontrollable laughter. 

An almost forlorn sigh from the swordsman, and then; “What the hell was the point of training if you’re not gonna use it?” 

“Seriously! For once, I actually agree with Zoro!” Joining in, Nami tears into me, scathing – she’s in full position, hands on hips and eyebrows pinched. “You told me you wanted to get stronger, how could you just forget something like that?” 

“...M’sorry.” 

“Looks like things will be a little more serious from now on… I think I might have an idea for our next training session…” With a wry, ominous half-grin, I genuinely can’t figure out if he’s joking or not – either way, the implication sucked.

“No way in hell, Mosshead! A lady like (Y/n) should never have to protect herself–” 

“As if a shitty cook could ever protect anyone.” 

“What did you just say to me?!” 

Butting heads (quite literally, given they were snarling in each other's faces), the chef and swordsman are soon distracted with their quarrel. Only Nami and I are part of the conversation. Luffy’s a side-thought, stuck in a howling fit. 

“I should add onto your tab for wasting my energy worrying over you!” 

“O-Okay, listen– A lot happened, okay?!” Already rather touchy about the events both in past and at play, my voice wobbles, trying to preserve a dwindling integrity; imploring my friend for some kind of forgiveness, though it sounds like a child whining excuses. “I-I got lost, and– And kidnapped, and then I woke up on that stupid train, found Robin, lost Robin again– Not to mention I found out my cat is probably dead, and to top it all off, I-I accidentally murdered a guy like, less than an hour ago!”

“Wh-What…” Hands flying to her mouth, Nami’s brows disappear behind her bangs. “No, that can’t… You mean, I-Ivory’s–” 

“What?!” Having overheard my outcry, Chopper’s wailing drowns out the redheads' grievances. She looks ready to cry, though the doctor’s beaten her to the punch, dropping Sniper King back to the floor moments after pulling the scrawny boy free. “I-Ivory’s dead?!”

Emotions are high. Body flashing hot, my throat swells, and so tearing at the dried skin on my lips is the only way I can manage to hold them from trembling. Still, the sear of tears boils behind my eyes, and I’m on the verge of joining my friends in yet another sob session–

A finger jabs into my side, both painful and ticklish. I flinch away, wrinkling my nose at the perpetrator. 

“Man, you’re really worked up, huh?” Giggles bubbling from his throat, Luffy smiles at my frown, sable eyes tracing all over my face with another infuriating poke. “Your face is red n’ everything!” 

“Sh-Shut up!” Recoiling from the uncomfortable prodding, I push at his chest defiantly, the heat of my flesh worsening. Rivulets of tears slip through my glare, forced to show even though I try my damndest not to let them. “I’m upset, okay?! Stop–” The words break, renewing my frustrations. “S-Stop making fun of me–” 

“Awe, c’mon! Don’t be mad,” Not laughing quite as boisterous as before, that hooked arm reels me back in. A fruitless escape. Dutiful fingers soon follow, the pads of Luffy’s fingers smearing away the prominent tear streaks on one half of my face. He runs his knuckles on the other half after the movement feels too awkward. “You never yell like that, it’s funny.”

Rendered silent, a smidgen of irritation twinges the back of my brain, annoyed by my own emotions betraying me. He must be able to tell – smiling without a word, eyebrows raising – giggling around the same time my flummoxed emotions rise. 

“Bones is gonna be fine, you’ll see.”

Irritability subsides. I mull over his words for a moment, letting them rest heavy in the void behind my sternum. “...How do you know?”

“I got a good feelin.” 

And with one last squeeze, Luffy decides it’s time to get back on track. No more funny business; and he starts up the conversation with Robin once more. 

“C’mon, Robin… Work with me here! You can go ahead and say you wanna die or whatever, but when you say it, you say it as part of our crew!” 

“He’s right, Robin!” 

“Robin! Come back!” 

Crew completely remodeled by the captain’s proclamation, the stark difference in attitude leaves Robin’s mood indiscernible. Whether it was Luffy’s call, Sanji’s, Chopper’s, or all three; The evidence that none of us were willing to give up on her rescue was making headway. One by one they stand along the columns spanning the edge of the building. One by one, they take up the mantle. Stoically mannered, the crew’s conjoined spirit has been summoned.

Chopper and Nami have wiped away their tears, jaws clenched; the navigator wielding her clima-tact, the doctor crossing his brawny arms. 

Sanji lights a cigarette, fixed on Robin’s silhouette. 

Sniper King’s cape billows the wind, astonishingly unaffected by his injuries.

Zoro stands, exerting confidence, brooding into untroubled composure. His hand rests calmly over the handle of Wado-Ichimonji, waiting.

The smile was entirely gone from Luffy’s face. 

“From now on, leave everything to us.”

Robin stills, stretched thin on the rack. Unmoving, unblinking, she gawks; amazed by Luffy’s ability to rally our friends – his crew – to such an indomitable state, without even a simple command. As a unit, they already knew what the plan was, so no questions were needed.  

“Our best bet of getting over there is by the drawbridge.” Zoro chooses to break the silence. 

“There’s a drawbridge?” I perk up as Luffy does, glancing to my soulmates right-hand. 

“Yeah.” Nodding, Zoro glances back at us. “The Franky Family is fighting to get that under control right now. Once they bring it down, we can go over to the other side.” 

“What a pain…” Practically chewing apart his cigarette, Sanji’s complaint is more of a grumble. “She’s right there, and all we can do is wait.” 

Stomach churning, I scanned the building from top to bottom. The only entrances I could make out were the balcony above, and a large set of doors far below. If we were relying on the drawbridge to be lowered, and we didn’t even know when it would be lowered, what happened if the Franky Family failed? How would we get across? 

Peering down the water-filled chasm, the world warped to mimic the sensation of my body leaning forward, though logically it couldn’t have been. There’s literally zero chance of actually falling in, tucked so snug to Luffy’s side that I’d be surprised if we weren’t attached at the hip… In the end, the queasiness doesn’t subside.

“Hey, CP9! Listen!” 

That voice, nasal and deafening, startles me on intrusion. It’s the man from before, who looks entirely too sweaty and stand-offish to be giving orders. 

“I give you permission to kill them, but only engage them here at the Tower of Justice– A-And retrieve that (L/n) girl while you’re at it!” 

Wait… Is this guy the leader? Genuinely? It’s difficult to picture, especially considering how none of CP9’s members bother to spare a passing glance given his command. The man’s vibes are entirely opposite from theirs as well – arrogance laced with cowardice – like a mouse raised in captivity, squeaking at an apex predator. 

“Stupid pirates! You may act tough, but you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into! You’re up against the power of the assassin group CP9– Not to mention that the weight of the Gates of Justice can’t be opened by human strength, so even if you wanted to try, you’d fail!” The ‘leader’ guffaws, high and mighty from his upstaging position. “And, above all things, right now…” 

Reaching into the confines of his vest, the purple-haired cretin rips something out… Shining gold, glinting in the sun, he flaunts the unknown object high above his head – one of those snail-phones. 

With all the mockery of brandishing such precious metal, that zealous, crazed grin ensures bad news. “I have the authority to exercise Buster Calls by using the golden transponder snail!” 

I’m not sure what a Buster Call entails. All I can assume is that it’s something awful based on some context clues; One, that this horrible character possessed said Buster Call, and two, that Robin had never appeared so terrified as the moment its name was mentioned. 

(The conversation is difficult at times to keep track of from so far away, so we stay quiet throughout, absorbing the story to our best potential.)

“That’s right…” Leering at the archeologist, all eager eyes and mocking words, the man tries to get under Robin’s skin. “I’m sure you remember its power well! After all, it did destroy your homeland 20 years ago, Nico Robin. I remember that the following year, Ohara had been wiped off of the map.”

“Robin’s homeland?” Dreadful when the dots start connecting, Chopper’s eyebrows furrow in concern.  

Sanji pulls his cigarette hard, sharp red searing through the paper with the smallest hiss. “That damn masked-jerk…” 

I have to agree – hard-agree – with the chef. The ‘masked-jerks’ jeering made my skin crawl, and that was from at least thirty-to-forty feet away. Taking genuine enjoyment out of renewing Robin’s obvious trauma, this guy was taunting her, gloating over her long-lost home. 

“Don’t! Anything but that! I’m begging you!” She’s gasping for air. 

“Ooh! I like that reaction. It gives me a chill.” Squealing with delight, the leader leans closer to Robin. “What is it? Do you want me to press this button to activate the Buster Call? Is that it?”

Ew. 

Wouldn’t have been upset to kill this guy. Wait, no– Too far… Maybe?

“You’re insane… Do you really understand what will happen when you press it?” 

“I do. It’ll eliminate the possibility of the pirates leaving this island alive! All it takes is one little press… It couldn’t be more simple!” 

Shaking, tormented, Robin’s volume rises. “If you think that, then you don’t understand a thing!” 

“Are all those old memories coming back to you now? Maybe I should try pressing it after all… It might be fun.” 

There’s no easy way to stomach it, witnessing the cruel power-play at hand. Purple guy purrs with a waggle of his finger, inching closer and closer to the button at the golden shell’s peak. He laughs, and laughs – tantalizingly hovering over the spot – gleefully sadistic…

And it drives Robin right over the edge. 

“This isn’t a joke– Stop it!”

Panicked, frenzied with her nightmarish memories of the last time that horrid, golden button was pushed, Robin’s egg-blue eyes stare widely into empty air. Heart racing all the while, the metal-masked leader has stilled completely, scowling at the loss of his interrupted fun. 

“You said Ohara had been wiped off the map…” Shoulders curl inward, eyes clench shut. The archaeologist's tone falls in despondency. It’s a visceral, physical reaction once post-traumatic stress wrenches her body into an excruciating vice. “But that map doesn’t show the people who lived there… Because you guys see the world that way– Your view of the world is so distant, and so twisted that you’ve lost sight of your humanity!” 

Plagued by her hellscape of a childhood, Robin’s vocal chords are gritting on the very air she breathes. We can’t picture the images flooding her mind, the memories she fought so hard to block out – the crimson fires – the calamitous destruction – finding a mother she never truly knew, following her footsteps as an archaeologist, only to be torn apart in the end – a dear friend, the dearest she’d ever had, and his distinct laughter as his body hardened to ice, then forced to leave him behind for dead – being chased for the rest of her days for simply existing–

No, we can’t see any of that. Yet we can see our friend. Can see how she looks, though she’s not focused on what's in front of her. Can see her shaking so hard that her legs give out, and she collapses into a heap. Then we can’t see anything at all. 

“Buster Calls are a heartless power that makes you lose sight of your goal. You mustn’t use it. Not that.” Wretched in her despair, Robin’s pleading is heartwrenching. Here there was an iconically unshakeable, strong woman… Utterly dismantled, begging on her knees. “Never… Anything but that!”

How impossibly frustrating was everything going to get? Armed with the bigger picture, I feel so utterly stupid. 

The government, those entrusted to protect the people with vigilance and self-proclaimed ‘justice,’ had such a protocol as this one – to wipe an entire island, a civilization, off the world map – prompted by the single push of a button. Not to mention, they wielded it like a toy (purple-guys reckless behavior proof enough). There was no regard for the lives that would be lost once activated, just as Robin said, else the button wouldn’t have been pressed in the first place. 

Naivety is natural, I’m aware… Still, I knew that bad people existed. Where there is good, there is evil, as that is the natural order of society; there were going to be bad marines, because there were bad people. I’d been a bit too ignorant about this fact ever since finding out about CP9’s existence, and knowing that people like this were members of the government tore away the blindfold completely.

It hadn’t started here, with our discovery of a Buster Call, or about Robin’s past. It had shown in everything that had happened until now. The further we got involved with the affairs of Water 7, the worse the affairs became. Framing a murder, secret agents doubling as workers to assassinate a major figure, trying to retrieve the blueprints of a weapon that could yield mass-destruction– When they already had something that could eliminate islands. An entire landmass, full of people, and culture… Children, families, friends whose faces would be forever lost to time–

What would be the point of another weapon? Already, I couldn’t imagine anybody feasibly surviving that in itself… What the hell were they after? 

The word corruption barely scratched the surface of the rabbit hole we’d willingly leapt into. These kinds of conspiracies, the deep-dives and theories of goings-on behind closed doors, certainly weren’t rare in the world I’d lived before this one. So, again, I was familiar with the concept – I wasn’t naive to the possibility – but, never once had I imagined myself coming face to face with the truth.

I was discovering first-hand what so many back in my old home would never have the dimmest chance of proving. 

“If you trigger a Buster Call, right here, right now… Everything will be destroyed. That includes all of Enies Lobby… And most likely you, as well.” 

A sense of foreboding blankets the lot of us, stale and ominous. The archeologist is fully coherent, and her conviction rings true.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” The leader of CP9 is denying her words with an anxious waver, despite his recent mockery of her direct experience. “There’s no way we’d be eliminated by our own people's attack! What are you saying?!” 

“20 years ago, everything was taken from me… And many innocent lives were lost. With the push of one button, I summoned a terrible demon. That Buster Call.” 

Staggering, Robin no longer entertains such an egotistical, illogical man. There was no arguing with the whims of a government official, she knew that well. 

She was addressing us, now. 

“That attack is now targeted on the friends I was finally able to find, with whom I can be myself. The more I wish to be with you, the more my ugly fate will bare its fangs… No matter how far I go on the sea, there’s an enemy that I can’t shake off– Because I’m facing the world and all of its darkness! First the incident with Aokiji, and now CP9… I’ve dragged you into my troubles twice already!”

All at once, there’s an equal understanding – nothing else that the crew needs to hear in order to validate saving Robin – not that there wasn’t before. The shift in energy is palpable, as whether the archeologist had meant it or not, she’d openly admitted in her want to be saved. The issue that kept getting in the way was attempting to keep us unharmed, or dead, in the process… And I could certainly understand that. 

Frankly, I feel her speech is having the opposite effect as intended. The urge to save her has been escalated, strengthening resolve. This is the reason behind everything. This is why Robin had been so stubborn to return to our crew. 

“If this goes on forever, no matter how kind you might be… Some day you’ll see me as a burden! Some day you’ll be forced to betray me and throw me away! That’s what I’m most afraid of! That’s why I didn’t want you to come and rescue me! If that’s the only future I have, I’d rather die! Just save me the pain!”

The double-whammy delivers fast – Brain waves promptly flatline. 

Nonplussed, insignificance is avid to consume, numbness lapping at my fingers like a starving dog. 

"Don't be so down." 

Robin's smooth voice comforted me, matching my gaze with a knowing tease in her blue eyes, followed by a comforting grin.

"However, I do agree that the Captain is an odd one. You're definitely going to have your hands full with him!"

There should be no means of comparison, and yet I can’t help it – I wasn’t being chased to the ends of the earth, I didn’t want to die because of my fear of being abandoned – and I’m remorseful of all the signs I might’ve noticed… Had I not been so self-absorbed, I might’ve…

…But, it’s not about you, is it?

"So, what happened?"

"Well, the priest– Satori– he had this weird ability to produce some kind of explosive, or something like a blast, from his hand. He kept saying 'impact' whenever he did it... I was wondering if maybe it was a devil fruit?" 

"It could be possible. But, that doesn't connect with his other ability that The Chef mentioned; where he created these 'mystery-spheres' out of the clouds."

"Right... They don't connect at all. That's weird... Maybe a weapon?" I ask myself again, but shake my head in disregard, knowing my head hurt too much to think of any theories right now. "Either way, it hurts. I passed out after the first attack, and Luffy had to grab me before I could be hit by another one." 

"Oh, he did, did he?" Robin asked with a sly-grin. I glazed over the words in the moment, stuck in word-vomit mode. 

"Yeah, he did. I've never felt pain like that before in my entire life, it was like it spread from the inside-out or–" I stopped dead, realizing her words a little too late as she laughed outwardly. Heat rose from my neck and fled to my cheeks in an instant.

"Well, go on." She urged after a minute, "I won't interrupt this time, promise." 

"Uh– Yeah, well..." 

All this back and forth was getting difficult to manage. 

I dug my nails into my palms, gritting my teeth for extra sensation. The sting grounds my feet to the stone beneath. 

I understand now. I get it. Even if our reasons are different. 

“It’s true?” Nami’s fingers dig painfully into my shoulders, and I can vividly tell that she’s reverted to full-on panic mode. “We can’t have another– Luffy and Zoro’s bounties are already way too high! What’s the bounty– how much is your bounty?!” 

“I’d wager a guess…” Robin smiled knowingly as the two of us turned our attention over to her, tickled by the situation. “It’s the same as the captain’s, isn’t it?” 

“That’s because you two are soulmates. The government has a law in place stating that soulmates are required to share certain factors. In particular, soulmates share the same bounty amount, if it happens that one of them receives one.” 

“My soulmate and I have matching bounties!” 

“Make no mistake, you’ll certainly have a lot more unwanted attention. However, your bounties aren’t necessarily cumulative. They are the same only due to the nature of soulmates. In other words, if just one soulmate is ‘brought to justice,’ and the marines can kill two birds with one stone, they can get rid of both soulmates for the price of one.” 

“Wait,” Usopp budges in, looking wary. “Are you saying if one person dies, then the other person will die too?!” 

“Of course. That’s how soulmates have always worked, and the government often takes advantage of that fact. Our captain will have to take extra care that neither of you are caught, because if so, that could be catastrophic.” 

“Right… You’re right. That’s, uh… shit.”

Robin chuckles, a wise gleam in her eyes. As if reading my mind, she places a hand on my shoulder, the both of us watching my soulmate crawl across the ground with tears trailing pitiably. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. The captain may be reckless, but he prioritizes your safety above all else, I think especially when it counts most.” 

And, god… I was getting so sick of this shit. 

The pity, and the self-pity, and that I was losing my friends over such stupid, secretive misunderstandings. How many times had I told Robin these fears? My terror over being a burden, of being abandoned. How many times had I sought comfort from her? From Usopp?

Why didn’t they ever tell us? We were friends, weren’t we?

Well… I guess I can’t exactly blame them. 

“Besides, you’ll need to get that bond fixed if we end up joining Foxy’s entourage.” The woman’s tone is simple, yet I can tell she’s having a laugh when she takes one look at my bewildered expression, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. “You didn’t realize? You and Luffy are the only ones likely to have the descendants that we’ll need in order to fulfill our end of the bargain.”

“Huh…?” I barely process the meaning behind her words. The tears evaporate, and my intestines must be tying themselves into knots.

“Such a shame they’ll be indebted to that man for years to come. At the very least they’ll be cute.”

Right. I couldn’t blame her. Especially not for such emotional turmoil… It was too personal to ignore. 

These agents– The government, all of it could go fuck itself. Because, I realize, it’s not even her fault. It’s theirs. 

All of this was due to their actions. All of this started the day that they couldn’t allow a child to live her life after destroying her home, and likely everything she knew and loved. 

So I linger, weighing what to think, and feel. It’s insufferable, how we had to stand here, watching our friend collapse whilst unable to lift a finger in return. 

Again. 

“This isn’t a game!” 

Sharp as a knife, the belittling reprimand isn’t one I’m keen to receive from Robin, shrinking away from the sting. Conversation has been few and far between, at least up until this point. The woman who’d once been a source of stability had ironically morphed into a stone-cold wall. 

“We’re talking about a place you’ll never be able to return from. What don’t you get about that?” 

The woman that wore Robin’s face, with hands clenched into fists and teeth bared, was nothing besides a shell of her former self; driven by an inescapable resignation. There was no more she could fight for, other than this. 

“I’m trying to save you, why don’t you realize that?! If they take you with us, you’ll never see Luffy or the others again. Is that what you want? To lose your soulmate after searching for him all this time?!” 

“No, n-no– Robin, just– Just listen for a sec–” 

I wonder, for a short moment, if the hellfire in my chest stems from Luffy, or whether it was ignited within myself, but I find my attitude shifting to something that comfortably settles alongside it. 

Confidence skyrockets, the adrenaline in my veins is alien to me. It doesn’t flash cold, or freeze, rather it flares like a spark. It’s not ‘I want this to be over,’ anymore. No… It’s that I’m ready to get this over with.

I want my friend back. 

“There you have it, right on the mark!” Boasting a hearty, cruel laugh, purple-haired guy (AKA Hannibal Lecter from Wish) takes the stage once more. “What a sorry case… No one is stupid enough not to see you as a burden.”  

The man snorts, swiveling with a flourishing gesture directed at the white and blue flag above his head, sneering as if he’s already won. 

“Look at that flag, you damn pirates! This symbol represents the unity of over 170 nations, a power spanning the four seas and the Grand Line! This is the world! Do you realize how totally powerless you guys are to fight against it?! Do you realize how huge of an organization this woman has been pursued by?”

So far, all we’d seen from this man was a lowkey spoiled attitude, and a handful of orders directed to those who actually had the abilities to handle the threat at hand. Utilizing his title’s staggering presence to his advantage, he practically hid behind his title.

In the throes of lashing winds, at the peak of HQ, the flag flutters back and forth. We can hear the fabric catching against the air with low, gusting-warbles. 

“If that’s Robin’s enemy, then I know what to do.” 

In line of sight with Luffy’s jaw, I catch the movement of his lips from my periphery, focusing on the barely there rolling against my finger tips. Voice dipped low, he’s adapted that serious, husky timbre. 

The captain means business. Luffy’d heard all that he needed to, and he bore no regrets over the oncoming command. 

“Sniper King,” 

At the summons, there’s a light hum of acknowledgement.

“Shoot down that flag.”

It’s not boisterous, or loud, or attention seeking… Luffy keeps his voice soft, calm, and cool. 

“Roger.” 

And without any doubts, Sniper King agrees. 

Curling my fingers into the cloth of Luffy’s vest, I await with bated breath as the super-hero unveils an elongated, green slingshot from his cape. 

“This is my new weapon… A massive slingshot but the name of Kabuto!”

Every single one of us is glaring up at this white flag, pristine and glowing under the light of the bright sun. 

“Behold it’s awesome power!” 

With painted mask and mummified limbs, bandages taut around his knuckles, Sniper King draws back the elastics of his weapon–  

“Special attack! Fire Bird Star!” 

Snap!

–And fires.

Spirals of scarlett fizzle into life, swirling and twisting around an expanding plume of vermillion. The heat rises, orange blistering into flickering, golden wisps – then, the fiery mass curves upwards – unfolding wings like a phoenix. 

A blinding flash, the heat warms our skin–

The sun’s rays glare down upon the burning remains of the marine flag. Once a spearhead of justice, now reduced to a useless, wriggling slab of fabric turning to ash. 

Flames take their time, savoring… Sniper King lowers his weapon with a resolving stamp.

“Mission complete.” 

Robin, the leader of CP9, and many, many others stare at the disintegrating flag with incredulous awe. Shock factor intact, the horrified uproar of soldiers close enough to witness the spectacle comes flooding in; they’re faint, although it helps the impact of our actions to set in.  

“They’ve gone and done it!” 

“Those idiots– Do they understand what it means to attack a government flag?!” 

“Those pirates… Declared war against the World Government!” 

A deep breath in, and out. 

I’m surprised by my own steadiness. There wasn’t really a clear reason for the lack of fear, or nerves, or general anxiety– They were there, just less. What’s taking up space instead was a heady mixture of confidence, pride, and unwavering belief. Maybe it was Luffy. Maybe it was me, or maybe it was both of us. I couldn’t pull anything apart in order to dissect who was who, and what was what. 

Or, it might’ve been the bull guy, who had warned us of this exact scenario – had claimed that it would be impossible for us – yet was lying on the ground a ways away, stiff as a board. Regardless of Lucci’s unapproachable aura, bull guy was a part of CP9. If he went down, at least we knew the others could, too… That meant we had a chance, right? 

“Are you insane?!” Grey-skinned, the purple haired man has been flushed out by his pale complexion. “You morons can’t challenge the entire world and expect to win!” 

“Yeah?” 

In a flash, the captain’s entire body tenses, face constricting with a vehement war-cry; 

“Bring it on!” 

The echo around us is pure cinema, literally. When someone shouts, it reverberates like a scene straight out of a movie. Heart thundering in my chest, keeping hold of the boy whilst he whips his arms out to the sides, the air is practically trembling. I’m sure he can feel it too, never looking at me directly until the arm eventually finds its way back to its previous position. 

Purple guy squeals, frightened to the bone as he reels back and out of sight. I’m relieved to see him go.

“Robin!” A call, not as enraged as the last. “There’s still something we haven’t heard you say!” 

My heart lifts – fingers twitching as the blood races under my skin, raring for what was coming next – I knew what he meant and wanted to hear it, too. I’d been aching to hear the confirmation, for Robin to take back the things she’d said. 

“Say you want to live!” 

No intrusions. 

No interruptions. 

No chance that what had just been put into motion could be stopped. 

With vision blurred, and mind racing, Robin finally has a moment of clarity. She swims through visions of past families, crews, and all the various strangers who’d betrayed her for her bounty, time and time again. Shunned for her existence, dubbed as a traitor to the world, nobody had ever made the slightest effort of being on her side… Nobody ever accepted her. 

Except now, the marine flag was burning, and the silken ashes were dancing over those culpable; 

The people who had waged war for her sake, and in her name; 

Her friends.

The first real friends she’s ever had. The friends that wanted to see her wish – held within over all these torturous years – come true. She’d been dying to say it for so long… So long she’d lost sight of even the possibility. 

Only one person had ever wished that for her. He’d predicted this back then; A promised happy ending. 

If she could put her trust in you all… That meant she could say it aloud now, couldn’t she? 

Just this once.

“I want to live!”

A spray of tears – and she’s belting it out until she’s sore in the throat.

“Take me with you! Take me away from here!”

Teary-eyed, moved by Robin’s truth coming to light in such avid admittance, I can’t say that I’m quite as stoic as the others in the aftermath. All of them look entirely locked in; Meanwhile, it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to bawl my eyes out.

“Aw, y-you guys… You’re so awesome! I love you!” Not to mention Franky was absolutely wailing in the background, making my task of holding it in that much more difficult. 

Out of nowhere, my soulmate hooks around my shoulder. Corralled by his inner-elbow, into his chest and other arm, rough hands encircle to crack his knuckles just before my sternum. The pop is familiar, and weirdly comforting. 

“Let’s go.” 

With the rumbling warmth at my back, I find myself nodding back. 

I could do this. I would get through this. 

For Robin. 

—

Tidbit Today!

In the original One Piece plot, prior to the events of Enies Lobby, Robin almost never says any of the characters real names. She mainly refers to them as their titles. 

Whether it be MC’s ‘lack of title’ amongst the crew, or something else entirely; (Y/n) is the only exception to this rule.

“Is she alright?”

A man’s voice… Muddled by the ringing in her ears. 

“I-I’m not sure… Should we tell someone? W-What’s the protocol here?” 

“I don’t know. I-I don’t think there even is a protocol– I mean, I’ve never heard of an agent from CP9 being beaten before…” 

Laid in the dirt, the woman stirs. The earth encases her limbs, as if trying to swallow her whole. Her skin itches, her nose twitches – blood.

“Wait– I think she’s waking up!” The voice is clearer now, yet it throbs in her ears. “Ms. Weiser, are you alright? Do you require any medical assistance?”

“Yeah, should we call chief Spandam? O-Or maybe agent Lucci?” The second one adds, “How can we help?” 

The name flashes behind her closed eyes like a brand. 

Groaning, her irritation blooms amongst the pulsing-pain of a migraine… More than likely a concussion. Either option would be awesome. 

Rachel’s face scrunches up into a snarl before her eyes have even opened. Her mind flashes, recognizing the two marine grunts as the ones from before, who must’ve witnessed that boy pummeling her into the ground – Straw Hat Luffy. 

One swing. 

That was all it took for her to be decommissioned, just like that. Outclassed in front of those beneath her position. The embarrassment burns molten-hot in her chest. 

Rachel lifts herself from the exposed earth like a zombie, disguising the pain with her anger. Fuming, her knees disagree with the effort of lifting to a full stand, swaying just slightly as she spears the two men with unbridled malice in her eyes. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” The words burst from her ribcage, spittle spewing between teeth, bared in their direction – Much like the beast she truly was. 

They stare at her, pale and wide-eyed. Rachel can feel the grime powdering her cheeks, arms and legs. It congeals with the blood that slides down her temple, her hair sticking to the glue-like substance. She must look like a mess. A monster, even. 

Whatever. Who fucking cared? That’s what she’d been made to be, anyways. 

One man opens his mouth to say something, but Rachel’s over it. 

“Idiots… Why’d you just stand here and do nothing?!” She snaps, “I need to head back to headquarters– Go get those brats, now!” 

—

“Gum-Gum… Gatling!”

“Now, gum-gum whip!”

“Giant scythe!”

“Bell!”

“Mallet!”

“Bazooka!”

Luffy went through every attack in the book, and then some – even coming up with new ones, new names, on the spot – one after the other, because the marine forces chasing us through these red-bricked buildings were relentless. 

It was almost comical, at first. My soulmate would barge through the marines like a bull in a china shop, as with each attack he eliminated a significant portion of our enemies in a cluster of white and blue. The men would howl in their panic, flung into the skies or across the city itself. Soon, however, the pattern grew into a tedious dilemma. When one group of men had been dealt with, another came to replace them. 

Rounding the corner reveals a team of gunmen on their knees, aiming dozens of rifles in preparation for our arrival. They’ve been stationed in a line that blocks off our escape route, so Luffy veers left, into an opened doorway and out of sight. 

Spotting the stairs, the boy sprints towards them without a second thought. Behind us, the marines are shouting urgent commands, relaying information like an auctioneer’s bidding chant. They follow after us, flooding the room.

“After them– Don’t let them escape!” 

“Our orders are clear, separate Straw Hat Luffy and (L/n) (Y/n) as soon as possible!” 

“They went inside that building–” 

“Detain them! We can’t let them get through the second gate!” 

Arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist, I instinctively squeeze at the shift in position once Luffy’s foot hits the first step. He reaches back and hooks his fingers beneath my thighs, grip tightening in wordless reassurance. I wonder if he can feel my heartbeat racing against his spine. 

It’s nervewracking. It always is, running from the marines… But, the captain acts quick, thinks quick, and I’m always amazed by how superhuman he is. Strength, speed, and agility – not to mention stamina and flexibility – it’s as if he’s upgraded those stats to the max. 

Luffy’s rubbery body probably helped in certain aspects, even so, that didn’t explain the absurdity of his strength. I mean, doing all this while carrying me at the same time? Not that he ever complained about carrying me. My soulmate was pretty adamant about keeping me on his back throughout all of this, claiming it as ‘the safest option,’ but still… Wasn’t it even the teeniest bit exhausting, lugging me around like this?

The marines are stampeding up the stairs, mere steps behind – Luffy stops, spins on his heel, and raises a single leg. 

“Gum-Gum Stamp!”

Once the sole of his sandal meets the face of the first man, the rest fall back like dominoes. They moan and groan all the way down, collapsing into a pile that picks up dust clouds – coughing and wheezing. The captain doesn’t pay them a second glance, focusing on the next floor. 

Suddenly, he speaks. “You good?” 

“Yeah, uh…” Confused as to why he’s asking me, I redirect. “Are you?” 

“‘Course I am,” Luffy says, yet he’s panting like a dog once we hit the top step. “These guys are pissing me off, though.” 

I dig a little deeper, picking up on the truth behind his words – worried that my thoughts seem to have jinxed the situation. “I-If you’re tired I can–” 

“There they are!”

Out of nowhere, a crowd of marines fill into the room above, spotting us from over the railing of the third floor. Luffy had barely taken a step before they were on us again. 

“They’re down here!” 

“Attack them from all sides!” Another voice calls, resulting in a ‘hurrah’ from those who’ve recovered on the first floor. 

“Dammit,” The boy grits, warily eyeing those who are closing in. “We’re cornered…” 

Loaded guns click, swords unsheath – and the men are only getting closer, almost near enough to touch. 

Luffy’s grip leaves my skin, and I press tighter before he makes his next request. “Just hold on for a sec…” 

My arms slide against the sweat coating his neck when he bends down. The boy plants his hand flat against the ground, pulling back a leg whilst glaring up at the ceiling. I can feel the breathy growl rumble through his back just before–

“Gum-Gum Volcano!”

He throws his whole body into the movement, leg jetting up into the air from behind. I do my part diligently, clinging to him as gravity takes hold with the shift in posture. The bricks explode from inside out, the force of his kick smashing the brittle rock into rubble, and I duck into his shoulder to keep the pebbles from pelting my face. 

With a rubbery snap, his leg returns to normal size, leaning forward to a normal stance where he can snatch up my legs again. This time, though, he takes a spare moment to catch his breath. 

He’s tired. 

“Luffy,” I try to offer the option again – the boy cuts me off with a jolting hoist upwards. 

Stubbornly, he refuses. “I’m fine. Trust me, it’s easier this way.” 

“But–” 

Charging without warning, Luffy doesn’t allow me to put up more of a fuss, stretching his arms out to the top of the decapitated walls and launching us into the air. I can’t find the means to speak anyways, not with my stomach doing backflips. 

“Gum-Gum…” With a battle cry, Luffy readies a barrage for the unsuspecting forces below. They hear him, and gawk in terrified awe. “Gatling!” 

Thwack–wack–wack–wack–wack–wack–

Pummeled into oblivion, the men go down, and my soulmate barely waits to touch solid ground, taking off once more. Massive, pearly white gates tower over the area, almost mocking in stature. It seemed no matter how far we ran, they were still unreachable. 

“Chief Spandam– Please, come in! We need your orders, sir… We can’t stop Straw Hat Luffy!” 

Desperate voices fade out in the background, the world passing by in a blur. Spandam… Had I heard that name somewhere before?

“We should try to get these off of you soon.” Distracted, I’m thrown off kilter when Luffy reaches up and snags at the chain between my wrists. Impulsively, he tugs at the links, and my elbows slip from their perch, upper-half flopping over his shoulders like a dead fish. 

Nearly falling forward, the boy breaks what might’ve been a nasty fall, touching down to the ground for balance. Afterwards, the hand finds its place under my thigh, kneading apologetically. 

I scramble to recover, face directly alongside his, for the moment. “R-Right, yeah…” 

The chains dangle and jangle as if taunting. Spotting the lock on each cuff, dread sets in. 

“But… How though?” Dragging down his back once again, my arms wrap around his neck in an effort to stop the irritating noise. “They’re locked.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” 

We book it past another group of men, eager to pursue. 

“Maybe I can break ‘em or something.” 

“Yeah, maybe…” I pause, unhindered by my own adrenaline in the spare moment of peace, though it doesn’t slip my mind that the sudden lack of marines is odd. With a nervous glance, I voice the first thing that comes to mind. “Well… If Zoro’s around, he could cut ‘em.”

“Well, yeah, but… I’m strong enough!” Luffy’s bottom lip juts out, glaring accusingly over his shoulder. His eyebrows furrow, whiny and grumbling. “We don’t need Zoro for some stupid cuffs.” 

“O-Oh– No, no, I didn’t mean it like–” 

“If we weren’t running around like crazy, I bet I could get them offa you even faster than Zoro.” 

“I-I know you could, Luffy.” Swayed by his pouting, I aim to appease. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t depend on him. “I’ll always ask you first, y’know…”

With a soft ‘hurumph,’ Luffy swerves around the next corner. His irritability was likely attributed to our inability to make any progress, so I tried to keep that in mind. Everyone was having a bad day today… Or, a bad couple of days, I guess. Even so, it’s better to be sure, right? 

Leaning forward, I perch my chin on Luffy’s shoulder. “I was just wondering if they were around here… ‘Cus we’ve been running for so long, and we haven’t seen or heard from anybody in a while.” 

I catch his sights flickering to mine, face remaining forward. “Yeah… Haven’t really been thinkin’ about it. They might’ve caught up by now, but last time I saw them was when I left ‘em all on the train.” 

The admittance doesn’t exactly surprise me – he was the type to jump first, think later. I feel the smile pull at my lips, despite everything. “They’re probably mad at you, then. Especially Nami.” 

“Who cares? I was keepin’ my promise.” 

Clutching the cloth of his vest, elation makes it hard to continue looking at him. “Mhm… I know.” 

“It doesn’t matter. Either way, even if we don’t see them soon, I’m sure everyone knows where we’re going next.” And Luffy’s tone dips into something more serious. “We gotta make it to those gates before Robin gets there.” 

Casting my gaze aside, a heaviness weighs between my chest and stomach. 

Burrowing into the safety of Luffy’s shoulder, the mention of the woman’s name has me reminiscing rather ominously. All that fury, the solidity in her claims that we were in the wrong for coming after her… If she didn’t listen then, would she listen now? Would she end up leaving us anyways? 

“Why? Why did you come here?”

“I told you to stay behind… I told all of you to stay away!” 

“I don’t need your help!” 

“I’m doing this for all of you– I want to do this, so why can’t you just let me? Leave me here and go back to your own lives!” 

“...I don’t believe her.” Amidst the pressure in my gut, I whisper the words into my soulmate’s shoulder, afraid that speaking too loudly would result in more tears. They’re the same words I’d told her, back then. “I don’t think… This is what Robin really wants.” 

“Yea…” Mimicking the dampened atmosphere, Luffy’s voice dips to a low murmur. “Me neither.” 

A sudden lurch tells me that the boy has launched us upwards – the oncoming breeze nipping at my skin conveying that we’d started running on the rooftops. Contemplating my next words, I glance off to the side. A piece of me still regrets that I hadn’t been able to do anything… Anything besides cry, I guess. 

“Maybe… I hope she’ll listen to you, instead of…” Me. I’m sure Luffy notices my omittance, regardless. “Cus’ you’re the captain, so maybe…” 

Cogs winding in his head, Luffy lets your words sink into his skin. They roll around in his head, toppling one over the other… You have a point, one that’s gaining a track record. Why wasn’t anybody listening to you? 

When you both reconnected, Luffy was no stranger to the complex emotions that rushed through him. Though, there was a part of you, a small part, that was bothering him. Honestly, he would take fear, sadness, or panic over the muddled-nothing that had once again made its home within your body. After all this time, it was back – that ugly little creature, born anew between reopened scars, like a parasite – and he was not interested in giving your deep-rooted traumas a warm welcome in return. Given what was happening, Luffy didn’t blame you for feeling the way you felt. That was out of your control, and he recognized your recent efforts to get rid of the feeling entirely as you’d promised him. Didn’t mean he was happy about it, nonetheless. 

Crewmate or not– Well, yes, his crewmates should’ve been listening to you. Perhaps he didn’t notice it before, but had that always been the case? No, not too often… Not that he’d bothered to even entertain the possibility.

Sure, you weren’t exactly the captain, but you were the captain’s soulmate. As far as Luffy was concerned, you both were equals – he’d let you take the reins in a heartbeat, if you asked… Though, he was pretty certain you never would. 

Not the point. 

“That shouldn’t matter.”

The next rooftop Luffy lands on, he skids to a stop, the friction against the bottom of his sandals warming his soles. You must be surprised, as when he crouches for you to get off his back, you don’t move right away. A quick shimmy has you breaking free in no time, where he turns to face you. 

Grabbing at the metal coating on both wrists, the captain raises them for better access, squeezing the cuffs tightly. A firm yank in separate directions causes the chains in between to pull taut. Gritting his teeth, his arms flexing under the strain; the metal bends, then cracks, and your expression loosens with astonishment once the connection gives. The chains slink to the ground like writhing snakes, and you blink at your (mostly) freed hands. The cuffs were still bound to your wrists, but at least your movement wasn’t so limited. 

“But, yeah.” Luffy relents, if nothing but for your peace of mind. “I’ll get her to listen.” 

“Hey!”

I don’t get an opportunity to respond. 

“I found them! They’re over here!” 

Before I can even spot the perpetrator, Luffy swoops in and scoops me into a bridal carry. We’re off again, and though he’s adamant in keeping me off the ground, running separately becomes a requirement very quickly. 

“Gum-Gum… Storm!”

“There he goes!”

“Don’t let them get away– Remember, the girl is our priority!”

If the marines were bad before, they were about a-hundred times worse now. Lunging at our backs – firing warning shots – corralling us into tight corners and dead-end streets – we were losing ground. 

“Hold it!”

It’s not necessarily an issue to match Luffy’s pace – it’s an issue to match his pace while also being chased with marines breathing down your necks. My soulmate has his teeth bared, and even looks a bit panicked. The sweat dripping down my scalp makes the space near my ears prickle, although that’s less inconvenient than the gash on my leg that throbs every time the muscle is used. 

“Get back here!” 

“No, wait! We’ve got ‘em now– Don’t let up!” 

Fleeing like rabbits from a gunshot, we were running basically blind at this point. I suppose that's sufficient reasoning as to why we bolted into an open area… One that unknowingly dropped off into the abyss below. Ahead of Luffy by a step, I notice it just before he does; and a few feet before the cliff, I dig my soles into the ground, leaning back into him as the two of us skid along the loose dirt. 

“U-Uh– Luffy–” Reaching back to grab at him – the edge growing closer as we aren’t stopping – the unintended, anxious call of his name (anticipating a re-experience of one of my worst experiences) receives an arm around my torso and a firm tug backwards. 

Rammed against his chest, I’m left staring down at the cloudy haze of mist, writhing in the depths of the waterfall-lined-crater. Breathless, catching up to the fact that we didn’t die, I slap my hands against his one arm and grip hard. You couldn’t even see the bottom. 

Two steps backwards yields no comfort as rapid footsteps surround us in mere moments. Luffy releases his hold, and flips. I stay at his back, carefully facing our adversaries as well, eyeing the death-trap behind us as if it’ll jump up and grab me with my back turned. 

“We’ve finally cornered him!” 

Swords, guns, you name it – they’re all aimed at us. Without much thought, Luffy inches back. All of these guys were way too close. 

“L-Luffy, stop–” 

The fear-stricken stutter in your words reminds him – oh, yeah – there’s a cliff behind you both. He glances back, sees how your heel is inches from the ledge, and it sets in just how bad the situation has become. 

Annoyance returning, the boy bites down on his own teeth, glaring at those closest. Underneath the gaze of animosity, one marine hesitates. 

Shifting his gun to the side, redirecting his aim, he chooses verbal threats over physical. “Hey, c’mon– Y-You have nowhere else to run!” 

Luffy searches for an out. Everywhere he glances, the men shrink and tremble, yet that’s not the problem. 

“You guys…” All but growling, nobody aside from you can probably hear him speak. Even so, every marine within the area, on every building, stands ready and listening. 

Memories of Robin flash through his mind, her calm demeanor being the last thing he saw before she disappeared without a trace.

The problem was that this was a waste of time. 

“Get the hell outta my way!” 

The abruptness of his shout seems to deter most of the men standing guard. Many lower their weapons, surprised by just how loud Luffy’s voice is, traveling to every nook and cranny that it can reach. 

Well, most of the men for sure… Apparently, this one guy was unfazed. 

Luffy’s looking left when a hand clasps around my upper arm, dragging me right. The cloth of my soulmate's vest slips from my sweaty palm, a shocked gasp retching from my throat whilst stumbling away from the boy against my will. My soulmate, noticing the commotion, shouts an indignant “hey!” Lunging for my other arm in an effort of retrieval. 

“I got her!” The man shouts triumphantly, “Hurry up and take care of Straw Hat while–” 

He’s hauling me into the hoard of marines, and in my panic, terrified of being separated from Luffy once again, perhaps this is where Zoro’s teachings finally surface. 

It’s not clean, or practiced. In fact, I nearly trip over my own ankle with the attempt, trying anyway. With one free hand, I turn into the marine’s hold, tense my shoulders, and slam my palm into his chest with all my might. 

Not expecting the retaliation, likely expecting me to remain the same complacent character as I had been when we first arrived, the soldier wobbles in place for a moment. He takes one fumbling step, then another – floundering with the abrupt shift in his balance – and the guy lets go just in time for Luffy to snag me back. 

Wailing, unsteady, the marine grunt flails his arms in rapid circles, heel tipping over the edge of nothingness. But it’s not enough. Nauseatingly, all of us watch, completely stunned as the guy tips backwards, and disappears altogether. 

Both hands fly to my mouth once his screams fade, vanishing under the rush of the waterfalls around us. 

Nobody speaks. Even Luffy stands stiff at my back. Staring at the spot, as everyone was currently focused on, the realization of what I’ve just done takes a moment to set in.

“D-Did…” Whimpering quietly, removing my hands from my mouth only keeps them suspended midair. “Did I just kill someone?” 

The inquiry allows Luffy to finally stir – he knew it was unintentional, but the boy couldn’t deny that he’d lost a bit of the color in his face after witnessing what you’d done. 

“N-No!” The worst liar of all time, Luffy’s fruitless attempts to reassure you go right down the drain. You’re crying, and he desperately looks for a new solution, turning to the nearest marine with high expectations. “He, uh… He can probably swim! Right?” 

When you turn to look, the mourning soldier removes his cap, pressing it to his chest with a grave expression. Bowing his head, you then sob, bringing your fingers to scrape along the sides of your scalp. 

“Hey! Don’t make it worse, you jerk!” The captain barks at the man with fire in his eyes and sweat beading down his forehead. “Obviously she didn’t do it on purpose–” 

“Omg… Oh my God…” The predicament is an unfortunate one, and you start to wring your fingers like you might pull them clean off – the panic attack coming on full force. “Oh my fucking God, I-I totally just killed him. I just killed someone… He’s so dead–” 

“Hang on,” In the next moment, he’s stressfully waving his hands around you as if it’s ample enough distraction to shield you from the truth of what you’ve done. “I-It’s not that bad, I promise!” 

“Not that bad?!” A man shouts from somewhere in the background. 

“I just murdered someone–” I hyperventilate, barely hearing him over the blood rushing through my ears. “Wh-What… What the fuck?!”

Given that your whole body has gone rigid with the shock, Luffy takes the opportunity to hoist you up and over his shoulder. He knows you hate it, but he can’t trust you to keep hold of him in your current state. 

“J-Just forget about it right now– Gotta save Robin. We can talk about it later!” 

—

Long story short, I cried the whole way here. 

Atop the final gate – the last boundary we needed to cross in order to make it to the main hub of this island (the courthouse) – I wasn’t given the proper amount of time to dwell or deliberate. My most recent crime would have to be put on the backburner for now, joining the grief over my dead cat. A sort of numbness had taken over, to a degree. 

As soon as Luffy stepped foot on the well-polished marble, the air began to physically quiver. Invisible, yet visible at the same time, something manifested between the particles of the air like heat waves hovering over sunlit cement. It hadn't hit me until a door-shape was seemingly cut out and pushed open, and the man stepped through. I nearly died on the spot when I recognized who it was… I didn’t remember his name, not completely sure whether or not I’d learned it at any point. The man with the horns, from the train. A member of CP9. 

I stood behind Luffy from there on out, hiding. I had no interest in listening to their conversation, and while I knew my soulmate was regarding our newest opponent with a mixture of both wonder and aggravation, that was the full extent that my mind would allow me to comprehend. No peeking around his shoulder, no preparation for attack… All I could do was clutch the back of Luffy’s red vest in a vice, pushing back thoughts of that man. 

Did he have a family? 

Future plans? 

Had I really, actually killed a man…? 

All of this didn’t even feel real anymore. 

Pull it together. 

…For Robin.

“Since the start of the World Government, it’s unprecedented for a man to step this far into the government's entrance.” His tone is gruff, deep. Like Franky’s, just more monotonous. It swims through my ears as the world refocuses. 

For Robin.

“Get outta my way, bull guy.” Gone is Luffy’s previous amazement. His muscles flex beneath my fingers, and I glance down to find his hands tightened into fists. 

“Tell me…” The bull guy tilts his head derisively, I can see it – poking my head around Luffy’s shoulder without registering my own movements. “How long are you planning to keep fighting?” 

I can hear the boy snicker, waving an absent hand behind himself to ward me off. Lingering for a second, confused at first, I eventually obey. Departing from his side didn’t feel the best, I could only assume the boy had good reason. Eyes glued to the back of his head, I watch Luffy ready his stance – the notion finally clicking that the two were planning to battle – the captain planting hand over knee. 

Even in its overabundance, the boy’s overenthusiasm at the first sign of a fight isn’t enough to flush the melancholy from my system… Nevertheless, his next words do the trick. 

“Until I die.” 

It’s as if all the neurons in my brain reset on the spot. The shock is so immense, dissolving the cotton in my ears, defogging the landscape. I can feel the air entering my lungs, the cooling of my fingertips, and the statement cleaves through the overgrown brush inside of my head in one fell swoop. Regarding him, the numbness comes to yield. He’s being truthful. There’s no fear, either. 

Still, there’s this perplexing collaboration of emotions taking hold. 

It starts with a hint of betrayal, tightening in my chest, simmering in my belly like lava. After all this time, and worrying, he wasn’t even slightly afraid of dying? He didn’t even care? 

Then, the stark conflict. 

The heat mellows. Something warm coats all of the achy places along my body, cushioned and calming. Relief. After all this time, and all this worrying; Luffy wasn’t afraid of dying. 

In spite of the disturbance, his answer made total sense… For him. Constantly recklessly endangering himself, and even his own crewmates at times, Luffy never showed an ounce of hesitation towards danger, headfirst and brazen… Hasn't it always been like that?

“So, Robin is in that building behind you, huh?” 

Startled from my twisted thoughts by his voice, Luffy comes back into focus. With him comes an uncomfortable queasiness; not necessarily in regards to him, but the disruption of the one, major goal for which I’d set up myself. 

“Listen, boy.” The CP9 agent, bearing a persistent frown, glowers. “Perhaps you haven’t realized this, but what you’re doing right now is nothing short of a world-class crime.”

Luffy hums, befuddled by what the man is saying. My blood runs cold when the implication hits, understanding what would await us when we got out of here… If we get out of here. Worse news on top of the already bad discoveries. 

“Just get to the point already.” Gruff, straight to the point, Luffy makes it clear he isn’t interested in fancy stories. He’s itching to fight, eager to get right down to business 

“The World Government is a huge, powerful organization that stretches across more than 170 nations. Invading this island, which is under its possession, is an act of revolt against all those countries. It’s a declaration of war.” The bull-like man disdains. “Upon their dignity, the government will expose all of you to public ridicule, and bestow a merciless death upon you. You’re at most a few dozen men… That is nowhere near enough, so you’ve signed yourself up for a death sentence.”

“Yeah, well… That might be true.” Words hoarse, entering a series of different stretches in preparation of the battle, I could almost believe Luffy was relenting. His actions prove otherwise. 

“You are not strong enough to face me, either. The difference in our fighting ability is too great.” 

This man is taking Luffy lightly, having beaten him and the others in the past when we were separated, as my soulmate had informed. The agent is entirely unaffected by the boy in front of him, which stirs the bottomless pit of worry in my gut.

“There’s no point in fighting. You have no future,” The bull guy raises his arm, and the air beside him curves like water rippling. “And as an upholder of the government's declarations, I will retrieve what you’ve stolen.” 

A door opens, he reaches his hand inside… By the time I feel the air rushing against my back, it’s already too late to react. 

The experience is further mind-boggling, as a hand grabs me by the nape, fingers circling my throat. I’m at Luffy’s back – Then, vision broken by a blur of dark, bubbling shadows – Luffy’s facing me now. 

Dragged backwards through the strange pocket dimension, dozens of feet away from my soulmate, I surmise that neither of us had thought about this likelihood prior to our arrival. 

Shit–

“L-Lemme go–” Attempting to pry his grip from my windpipe fails. He squeezes harder at my intolerance. I cough, fingers slipping from velvet gloves. Struggling is useless. 

Shit, shit, shit–

“Now,” Ignoring my fitful wheezing, the guy addresses Luffy while blocking my airway without a care. “I will deliver your sentence in the name of justice–" 

Bam!! 

With a disgruntled, grunting ‘hurk,’ the horn-headed man’s hand slips away in a flash, like it had never existed.

Next thing I know, Luffy’s arm is looped around my torso, and I’m flung back into the space behind him. It’s not the softest landing, rolling a few times on impact. Even so, I can’t come to terms with what’s happened until I hear Luffy’s arm snap back into place with a single, murmured command; 

“Stay here.” 

There’d been no hesitation, same as how there would be no hesitation. 

Not with you. Not anymore. 

Lifting my head, raising to my knees as my arms shudder in reluctance with the movement, the face-off officially begins. 

Bull-guy is hunched over, taking a knee; His teeth are grit tight, sights frantic as blood dribbles from the corners of his lips. My soulmate had punched hard enough to break the man’s first line of defense– Fast enough to drop the calm facade entirely. 

Innately, there was no chance otherwise – Luffy would win. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” And he sounds pissed. 

I can’t see my soulmate's face, yet I can imagine it well enough; Clenched jaw, hardened gaze, eyes needle-like as they bore into the man’s flesh… 

My heart pounds against my ribs, stomach flipping. Moments like this made me feel like the safest – maybe even the luckiest – girl in the world, sometimes. They made me forget about everything else, if only for a moment. 

“You’re the ones who stole her from me.” Bearing no smile, guarded, dialed on target, Luffy also seems to have taken on a whole new persona. “(Y/n) is my soulmate. If you want her, then you gotta go through me… And I got a feeling I’m gonna win this time.” 

Stiff, resounding silence. 

The horned-man breathes sharply through his teeth, producing a ‘tch’ sound. Eventually, he makes a knee-cracking effort to stand up again. 

“...You’re not bad.” 

Luffy reels back, insulted. “Not bad?!”

A puff of dust – the bull guy disappears. 

“Moonwalk!”

With an audible fwhip, fwhip, fwhip; Bull guy’s figure flashes in and out, appearing one place then reappearing in the next. The way he moves makes it seem as if he’d altered an animation of himself, cutting out most of the frames and hitting the fast forward button. 

Luffy notices, thoroughly surprised by the random burst of speed, even though bull-guy looked barely able to stand a minute ago. Slapping a hand to his hat, the boy leans back in order to retaliate. 

“Gum-Gum–”

“Tempest kick!”

The first kick doesn’t land, Luffy dodging by a hair. A rush of air slices by, the residual attack smashing straight through one of the battlement-like columns atop the building. 

The man tries once more, redirecting his momentum in order to swipe at Luffy – nonetheless, the boy dodges again. He flips, and the motion that swats down his side sends his hunched posture into a rapid spin, spiralling over himself midair. 

“Iron body…” Just as Luffy’s feet touch the ground, the man continues his barrage; “Wheel!”

The initial kick misses, and the captain is confident that he’s getting more used to his opponent's pattern. Although he doesn’t expect it when the bull guy flips head over heel, randomizing his strategy; slam, slam, slam, the man’s heels aim to crush Luffy’s skull. 

Having entered some sort of deadly-cartwheel, I watch my soulmate, gripped by anxious tension as Luffy continues to evade. Forced to back off, the boy leaps away, creating enough distance so that our attacker is similarly forced to stop.

There’s a short stand-off, just enough of a break for them to observe each other’s physical state. 

“Door-door…”

Seconds before the debris clears, bull guy disappears. In his place is some kind of trap-door, cut out in the shape of his body. When it seals, the ridges blend seamlessly back into their original form. 

“Uh– Was… That a door on the ground?” Luffy’s brain cell(s) bursts into overdrive, trying to understand the sight in front of him. I don’t blame him, this whole scenario had been hellish to endure. 

Even so, the perplexity does leave him at his opponent's mercy. Two small holes open up by his ankles, and they’re so far away that I don’t get the chance to recognize it soon enough to warn him. The agent reaches up, clasping the boy's legs, successfully wrenching his feet down into the ground. Bewildered, the captain squeals in surprise. 

“W-Wait a sec– Now there’s a bunch of little ones all over the place, too! Where’d these come from?!” Wiggling around changes nothing – his feet were wedged firmly in place. This annoys him to the point of half-whining, half-screaming. “Dammit, I can’t move! This sucks– It’s such a stupid trap!” 

Bull guy opens another door shaped like himself, walking out of the ground as if there were a set of stairs hidden beneath. Looking down on the boy upon reaching full height, he remains unimpressed. 

“You!” Accusatorial (and rightfully so), Luffy’s aggravation holds no bounds. “What’s this?! What’d you do? Is this a devil fruit power?!”

“I have door-door fruit powers.” 

I blink. That didn’t take much questioning at all. 

“You’re a door man?” 

“I can change anything I touch,” Stepping closer, the man’s voice gains more emotion in these few seconds than any other time I’ve heard him speak – as if presenting some grand feat. He lifts his arm, readying to swing his palm at Luffy’s head. Shoulders tucking inward, I bite my lip, and brace. “Into doors!” 

The agent’s hand comes down…

Nothing. 

Wait…

Unnerved, as he’s the only one getting the full experience out of both of you, Luffy utters a couple soft, disgruntled gasps. I don’t understand why – can only resonate with the strange debilitation of his emotions – until I spy his face starting to move. 

Snail-like, at first, the middle part of his face swerves out of place, swirling to the side so that I get a full view of his nose and panicked gaze. I’m in no better condition, jaw dropped just the same as it begins to spin faster, as if on an axis. 

It was just a chunk of his face, sliced clean from the center. How…?

“Revolving door.”

Revolving what??? He can do that? 

Is this, like, allowed??

“Woah– What?” The captain howls, put off by whatever was happening with his body. “What’s goin’ on… I’m getting dizzy!” 

I can vouch. Just the second-hand sensation on its own had me ready to vomit. Closing my eyes and covering my mouth did nothing to aid the feeling, so there was no swaying it, either. 

“Which way is forward?! M-Make it stop!”

This is the prime moment for the bull guy to strike. He doesn’t think twice, he takes advantage of it immediately. 

“Tempest kick!”

Boom!!

The nausea fades, and there’s no sign of any sensation at all for a hot minute. 

I raise my head from my palms, squinting into the explosion of brittle rock. Whilst the haze settles back to the ground, I scrape through the sludge-like sensation that thickens our bond. It gyrates, mimicking the acid in my stomach, and yet there’s no pain… At least not like I would’ve expected had Luffy been hit by that attack. 

The agent glares sourly at the hole that’s appeared in Luffy’s place. Truly, the muscles in his face were tensed with vexation, much unlike the stony displeasure from earlier. Luffy pops from the hole like a Monty Mole from Mario Kart – unscathed, apart from his sulking expression. Both hands squish against his head, parallel to each other. 

“Finally!” Through squished cheeks, he relishes in the re-fulfilled normalcy. “My face closed!”

“Of course. An opened door is meant to close.” He sounds nonchalant, but the horned-man grows haggard by the minute. “I’m surprised that you could dodge the tempest kick.” 

Casually, Luffy brushes the dust from his shorts with a hum. “Yeah, no big deal.”

“I resent that.” Keeping the conversation at a minimum, bull-man gets right back to it. 

Luffy must expect it this time, reverting his attention as soon as the man disappears again. 

From here, it’s a flurry of tradeoffs; 

Bull guy’s leg flies towards Luffy’s skull again – The boy flips away, outstretching his arm to deliver a pistol-like punch – The agent steers clear, spurred back into the air with steps that seemingly launch him through the air like a gunshot, then appearing over Luffy with a ‘finger pistol’ – Once more, Luffy skillfully hops out of range, landing in a sort of spiderman crouch not far off – Yet bull guy doesn’t stop there, he keeps the momentum, using his abilities to pop up by Luffy’s back and punch the ground, completely shattering the rock – Amidst the spiderwebbed marble, Luffy retaliates with a ‘gum-gum bullet’ – The agent raises a fist to meet the captain in the middle, and throws a punch of his own – Thus beginning a stand-off where each fighter attempts to land a hit on the other, never succeeding as knuckle meets knuckle. 

The exchange ends as the bull guy swaps tactics, going for another tempest kick whilst Luffy is distracted in keeping up with his punches. Right before his leg makes contact, the boy zeroes in on the oncoming attack, and diverts it with a kick of his own. This appears to genuinely catch the agent off guard, and he doesn’t pursue my soulmate once the boy leaps back and away. 

Quiet. No one says a word. Both figures stand in opposition to the other… A stalemate. It’s as if they’ve swapped perspectives, too; Luffy appearing calm, face neutral as the bull guy visibly fights some internal battle. 

I release a breath, not realizing that I’ve been holding it for so long. All the tension and tenacity actually has my fingers trembling.

Luffy’s head tilts just slightly, and he smiles. 

“It’s no good.” 

The agent hums back in curiosity, lifting a brow. The captain takes that as an opening to explain further. 

“I’m no good like this. When I lost to Aokiji, I realized something…”

The mention of our run in with the admiral has my attention immediately. Aokiji was the only person that Luffy had lost a fight against (from what I’d seen), and hearing his name reminded me of the night afterwards. I knew Luffy was bothered by the loss, but…

“It’s fine. We’re fine. All of us are, so it doesn’t matter anymore… Though I’m still mad that I lost against Ice-Guy like that.”

“Aokiji.” I correct halfheartedly,

The captain had even remembered his name properly. Had he seriously dwelled over the loss for so long? I’d… Never actually thought about it. I couldn’t imagine him wanting to be stronger, given how strong he already was. So, I just assumed he’d moved on, like he does with everything else. 

“‘If I keep running into stronger and stronger guys like him in the future, I won’t be able to protect my friends… Unless I get stronger, too.’”

That’s what you wanna do too, y’know.

Pressure builds behind my collarbone. Swallowing becomes difficult. I glance down at my shaky hands, and tighten them into even shakier fists. I would not cry, right now. 

“I have friends by my side, even if they’re not all strong like me.” His tenacious grin doesn’t falter, staring down the enemy with newfound purpose. “Either way, they’re my friends and I wanna keep ‘em. So I gotta get stronger than anyone else, otherwise there’s a chance I could lose ‘em.” 

To hear it is one thing, to be able to feel the raw, genuine emotion behind it is something else entirely.

My lips tremble. No, no, no–

“Then, what are you gonna do?” The bull guy asks, apparently curious. 

“I came up with a new way to fight with all my might… So that I won’t lose anyone…” 

Preoccupied with my palms pushed into my eyes, I don’t question the random stirring of heat that fluctuates within. I’m trying to focus on my breathing, on anything else other than the overwhelming urge to cry – happy emotions bordering on my sad emotions, which are popping up like weeds – steadily growing aware of the warmth that’s soaking into every muscle fiber, every inch of skin, every blood cell that it can reach. 

My palms slicken with sweat. Perspiration gathers along the ridges of my collar bone, dampness forming at my hairline. Slowly, I pull them from my face, the moisture a mere preface to the nearly unbearable temperature. A hot flash bursts through my chest, into my limbs – my vision–

My eyes blur. A white border smears into sight, bright and disorientating. Everything’s distorted, like I’d been hit by the world's worst fever. It feels as if the world tilts sideways, heart pumping a little harder, a little louder, reacting to something that I’m oblivious to. 

I shake my head groggily, gathering myself. Even so, things are slipping. Is this it? Is my body finally giving up? …Am I about to pass out? 

At this point I’m ready to accept my fate. This encounter was a true testament to the term ‘whirlwind of emotions.’ Naturally, it would continue to evolve in that same way. 

“You won’t be able to stop me now. All my techniques just went a step further.” 

It’s difficult to pry apart the details, mind spinning and thoughts drawn into overdrive. Huffing, it’s only when Luffy speaks again does my brain cooperate; Focusing on my soulmate proves the theory. This isn’t my body doing this, it’s his… And he’s… Pink?

Wait. 

He’s pink. And he’s steaming.

I hear him snickering across the way. 

“Hey, (Y/n). Are you watching?” 

With Luffy’s sidelong gaze, it’s as if I’ve appeared as a player on the board. I match it, scanning all over his face with a barely-there nod, unable to respond with any coherence – practically brain dead. And he laughs, finding endearment in my star-struck expression. 

…What the actual fuck is happening right now?

I wonder if he can also sense my overabundance of feelings – flabbergasted, astonished, shaken, concerned (because he literally looks like he’s cooking from the inside out, and I can feel it) – and everything else in between. 

“Good. ‘Cus this is gonna be super cool.” 

Wtf??? 

Maybe it was the way that my heart was beating so rapidly in my chest that it felt like I might go into cardiac arrest– But, why was he acting so nonchalant, as if any of this is normal?!

In the end, none of my inside thoughts matter. My soulmate, as always, would deliver. 

“Second… Gear!”

Raising the fist that’s planted square against the ground between his legs, the captain’s movements are precise, calculated and controlled. Adjusting his stance is almost unnaturally smooth; placing one hand out before him where the palm faces his opponent, while the other extends behind him, arched and clenched into a fist. Reminiscent of a wizened warrior, there’s a rigidity within Luffy that I’d never seen before, contrasting his fluid personality. 

“What, are you stopping to aim? It’ll only give me a chance to dodge.” 

Luffy says nothing, steam sizzling in his ears. Sights never stray from the target. 

“Fine.” The agent obliges, none-too-happy that the battle has lasted far beyond what he’d intended. “Why don’t we see how good your aim is, then?” 

It happens in the span of a second. 

Bull-guy disappears, as expected. My chest tightens in anticipation–

“Shave!”

He’s gone, blending in amongst the air particles–

“Jet pistol!” 

Luffy’s arm whips out faster than I can visibly comprehend. It’s loud, it’s fast–

I gawk, mind taking up vacancy as the agent shoots backwards from an attack that neither of us had anticipated. Blink, and that’s how fast you’d have missed it. 

An enormous cloud of debris has been roused, the impact of the bull guy’s body greater than any produced thus far. My head swivels back to Luffy as if my joints have been rusted, enraptured by utter disbelief. 

I probably looked him over once, twice… Frozen in a state of incredulity, breathing deep through the warmth in my core. The boy was still in the same position. 

It’s impossible – should be impossible – because my brain struggles to accept that anything and everything about what’s happening in front of us is real, rejecting it outright. 

Luffy had thrown that punch in less than a second. 

I didn’t understand what changed… What exactly Luffy had done in order to accomplish something so inhuman– Or, rather, to gain more inhuman characteristics than he already had. I’d only looked away for a minute or two at most… He’d undergone a complete transformation that swiftly? 

When my soulmate’s body seems to dissipate completely, I need to double-take the spot where he once stood–

Whack!!

Following the distant impact is a high-pitched zip, alongside the snap of extending and retreating rubber, splitting the air. An agonized, guttural grunt bounces across the landscape, emanating from the same source, progressively growing louder. 

All too late, I turn to find bull guy flailing in the direction where I’m currently sitting, skipping off the marble like a flat rock on water. He’s moving so fast, too fast for me to get out of the way. 

Scrambling for purchase, caught unaware – by the time I’ve raised to a knee, his shadow casts, and I can hear the air bordering his massive frame–

A hiss of steam,

A squeezing encasement of warmth,

A bout of mischievous laughter. 

Time resumes – All at once, those three things withdraw. 

The loose strands of hair, disheveled through my travels, sway in the trace aircurrent. I’m back to kneeling in vacant space, watching from afar in a completely different area. 

“Rifle!” 

Struck for the third time, the agent’s body is being flung around with all the turbulency of a ping-pong ball. Out of nowhere, fighting this guy was a piece of cake for the physically altered captain. 

…How was this possible? How the hell was Luffy even doing this? 

Where my soulmate once struggled in a ceaseless battle, he now appeared to be completely obliterating his opponent; too swift to counter, movements so accelerated that it would be a foolish attempt to evade. 

He had this man trapped in a box, I almost felt bad. Whenever the agent looked towards where Luffy had previously attacked him from, the boy was gone, with nothing but a wisping gasp of air in his wake, only to then lay ambush from somewhere else. 

Luffy appears at the bull-guys side, delivers a punch faster than any I’ve ever seen, and vanishes–

“Stamp!”

There. A glimpse of the boy crouched against the post of the flag in the center, flickering out of sight–

The distance allows for better visuals. Next, he’s high in the sky, both legs cutting through the air and into the other man’s spine at breakneck speed– “And Spear!” 

Bloody, discombobulated, the agent’s eyes bug out of his sockets – damn near rolling to the back of his head – his pain relayed through a strangled, suffocating gasp. 

With the other man’s head drooping, Luffy stretches his arms out, gripping at bull guys horns to hold him in place–

“Missile!” 

I can’t help but cringe when the rock shatters around the agent in a massive radius, Luffy utilizing the mass of his body in a volatile airstrike of pure velocity. It’s brutal. The only thing able to pry my eyes away being the building’s crumbling structural integrity, rumbling through my knees, up into my sternum. 

Everything settles. Returning my focus, the bull guy has somehow managed to endure it all… Still, he’s knobby kneed, scanning the area in feeble, jerky head motions. Not for long. 

The frontal assault comes without warning. His eyes are open, but the agent’s vision is blurring in and out. Yet, even with his body giving out, he manages to brace. The effort is laughable– he can barely stand. 

The telltale whoosh of something streaking through the air spooks the man from his daze. Without hesitation, he changes maneuvers, yanking open an air door and throwing himself inside right when Luffy descends. 

As my soulmate passes through nothing but air, he quirks a brow, frowning as the immersion of battle is disrupted. 

“Huh… He disappeared.” 

Stillness rests over the landscape. 

Fenced in by castle-like decor, the area feels like it's separate from the rest of the world – like it’s its own private subspace in the universe – perhaps that’s why it feels eerie, rather than conclusive. Solely, the steam that pours from Luffy’s skin holds the scene from being mistaken for a photo. Despite his newly acquired speed, the boy stands motionless, peering around the area for the hidden-away enemy to reappear. 

Given time to catch my breath (figuratively, not literally), having the captain stand in one place allows my brain, and my bond, to resume scrutinizing him. 

A handful of minutes had passed since he first activated whatever this was – Second gear, he called it. Like a car? – Maybe less than that amount of time. 

I’d been overloaded by the simultaneous witness and process of the speed-blitz. My observations are out of order, appearing one after another in an altogether inconclusive manner; 

Again, he was pink. That explained the heat… Well, not really. It wasn’t an explanation, just a physical representation that I wasn’t going crazy. That, plus the steam. 

The unnatural warmth stoked inside was discomforting, mostly due to the fact that, when I touched my fingers to my own skin, it was cold to the touch. The spiritual embodiment of his soul clashed with the physical means of my body's homeostasis – was that why I was getting these random dizzy spells? 

How the hell was he doing this? 

The human body couldn’t overheat without the threat of internal collapse. To an extent, it could even trigger a complete shut down. He shouldn’t have been able to stand, let alone move with that kind of speed. Was it because he was rubber? Was that why he could maintain this kind of temperature for so long? …Could that be why he looked so shiny? But, how the hell did this all combine into something that allowed him to move at the speed of light?!

There’s so much more to ask. So much more I want to know, and my theories are lackluster in comparison to the one idea that keeps resurfacing… 

Luffy’s supernatural. A superhero, with full-blown superpowers. As dumbfounded and braindead as I may be, there was no denying that I’d been sitting awestruck this entire time. 

He knew it too, as when my survey wrapped up with me gawking at his face, the boy was already looking at me; And he bore the biggest, smuggest grin in return. Granted, I hadn’t expected that, resulting in an awkward game of don’t-blink. 

The agent likely saw my soulmate's brief distraction as the opportune moment to regain the upper-hand, the click of a door opening above and behind the boy, who jolts in recognition. 

Eyes snapping from mine – bull guy lunging overhead – Luffy pounces backwards, avoiding a headlock in the knick of time. 

Across from one another for the umpteenth time, both men recover from the temporary imbalance. Back to square one. 

Bull guy was out of options, it seemed, facing the captain with headstrong resolution. A final stand. 

“When we fought before, you moved like you were disappearing.” Luffy speaks, answering some of the questions circling my mind – and I’m sure it answers some for the agent, too. “You were really just kicking the ground over ten times per second.” 

My jaw dropped, unhinged by the sheer, absolutely absurd notion. Luffy, who had the attention span of a goldfish, managed to catch how they were moving at a speed of ten times per second? I mean, he could be surprisingly attentive… But, ten times per second? If he could see that, this kid could probably see molecules– 

“I got the hang of it, too.” The thrill of the captain’s own accomplishments shines through his words – credit where credit was due. “But, I never would’ve figured out that kind of technique on my own. I really am glad I met you guys here. When my friends are in trouble, I can protect them.”

The agent growls under his breath, not bothering to respond – just get on with it. 

The captain gets the hint well enough, a short laugh preceding his final actions. 

He bends at the hip, an expression of intense ferocity morphing his features into a snarl, slinging his rubbery arms backwards. 

“Gum-Gum…” 

They extend past the columns, I can’t see his fists – holding my breath so tight that it causes a head rush. 

Tension releases, Luffy shoots forward like a bullet – Bull guy stands firm, reinforcing his body to resist the oncoming force. 

“Iron Body, Strength!”

“Jet Bazooka!” 

I see the impact, see Luffy’s fists meet the agent's chest;

See how the inertia transfers from the boy to the bull man, leaving the latter to slide backwards whilst the former ceases movement entirely;

The agent’s front is smoking where Luffy’s knuckles landed… 

Yet, there he stands, steadily lifting his head into a stiff, unwavering smile. 

Eyebrows twitching further downward, the captain grits his teeth. “Your body sure is tough, huh?” 

Chills race down my arms, unnerved by the enemies unblinking, bloodshot sclera. The air around me grows cooler. From afar, Luffy’s skin reverts to its usual tan, steam extinguished alongside the heat. 

Shivering, my arms wrap at my chest while my heartbeat slows. Adjusting back to my own body temperature is jarring. 

“Alright then… I was gonna save it, but I have an even better trick!” 

I nearly choke on my own spit. A better trick? FYM a better trick??? You mean to tell me that there’s more than whatever the fuck just happened? 

“Don’t blink…” Raising thumb to mouth, the captain hooks along his teeth so that he’s biting down on the knuckle. His words are slightly garbled. “I call this…” 

Losing my shit, I feel like my brain is about to melt through my ears– On the edge of my toes–

Luffy’s smile falls, realizing something’s off. At that, I turn to see what’s up–

Fhwump.

The agent’s body hits the ground without any kind of resistance. He flops, then lies completely motionless. 

Nothing. No movement. No dramatic last-speech. 

Just… Nothing. 

…I’d take that, though.

Luffy removes the thumb from his mouth, dumbfounded by the somewhat dissatisfying victory. With the sense that the battle is finally over, his body relaxing, the boy finds himself taking some deep, heavy breaths whilst staring at the CP9 agent's dead-eyed expression. After a while, his arms go lax, swinging by his sides. Grinning returns as second nature, incredibly pleased with himself. 

Placing hat over head, grinning triumphantly whilst turning on his heel, Luffy waltzes right up to me without a care in the world, as if whatever the hell just happened was normal – an everyday occurrence. 

“So, what’d you think?” The captain’s hand instinctively searches for mine, crouched in typical monkey-fashion in order to speak at eye level. He looks giddy, eager almost. “Did I look cool or what?” 

The laugh that puffs from my mouth in response is more of a wheeze, unrecovered from an event that I didn’t even participate in. He would dig for compliments after that… Totally unbothered by his own preposterous means, as always. 

Noticeably awaiting my response, the boy is scanning all over my face in expectation, like a dog waiting to be praised. 

Well, it would be a lie to say it wasn’t cool… And Luffy’s excitement is contagious, especially with the threat of the enemy eliminated. I could allow myself a moment to laugh while I had it. 

“Yeah…” Laughing unsteadily, still uncertain over many things, I let him drag me up into a stand. “You did look cool.”

Luffy basks in the compliment, face glowing with confidence. He laughs, never once detaching our interlocked fingers, though he lacks a bit in the humility department. “Must be nice to have the coolest soulmate ever, huh?” 

“Kinda, I mean… You’re, like– K-Kinda hard to keep up with, tbh.” I cock my head to the side, glossing over the comment as the unforgettable scenes replay in my mind. “How’d you even… Do all that?” 

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I think you’re cool, too. Gotta be if you’re my soulmate!” Snickering, Luffy ducks down, hooking the fabric of my shirt with his other hand, tugging me forward. “I just watched those guys earlier and figured out how they moved. It’ll take too long if I explain it now, so I’ll tell ya’ more later.” 

Sights trail from his face to his collar as the ebbing of his energy is made clearer. Honestly, I hadn’t stopped prying at our connection in order to dig for more information. Whatever it was that he’d just done – Second gear – it had drained him in a way that was noticeable, which was a tad worrying. He could get tired during fights, sure… But a ton of his energy got sapped in such a short span of time, which wasn’t great. Not to mention, he’d already been tired when he’d found me earlier. 

“And… You’re really tired, too.” Returning to his expression, I watch his eyes widen by a fraction, smile faltering. I look away, finding something else to focus on whilst my brains reform. “Like– I dunno… More than usual.”

“Man, you’re so good at that.” Luffy’s eyes never leave yours, even when you’re not meeting his gaze – preoccupied with something on his face. “You always notice all the little stuff.” 

Says you. ‘Ten times a second’ my ass. 

…The praise is appreciated. 

I retract my hand from brushing away the spot of grime on his cheek, nerves a mess. “Um… Yea, I guess so.” 

“S’fine,” Catching the run-away wrist, Luffy presses it back into his skin, cheek squishy from smiling. If you were going to dote on him, even by the smallest means, he would wring out as much affection as he could while you were still willing. “I’ve got you to keep me from getting tired, anyway!”

“Y-Yeah, uh–” 

Reduced to nothing but mushed up brain matter and heated skin, when Luffy pulls closer it makes speaking nigh impossible. This in itself is detrimental to my inner-conflicts. 

After all, some of the things he said had stuck – and now that there had been time to settle the bewildering attributes of my oddball-soulmate – said conflicts were doomed to resurface sooner or later… It just happened to be sooner in the current circumstances.

“Tell me… How long are you planning to keep fighting?” 

“Until I die.” 

Right… Those three words had demolished the foundations of everything I’d been working for. 

A finger prods my cheek, regaining my attention. 

“Hey, did you hear me? I was askin’ you a question… Where’d you go?” 

“S-Sorry, I was–” Shifting subconsciously, the proximity makes itself known once again, and I freeze. “I was just– Thinking. Uh…”

“Nuh-uh.” He disagrees, even without knowing what the thinking was about. “No more thinking. That’s bad.” 

I give him an impossible look, eyes squinted. “I can’t just not think, Luffy.” 

“Well, duh. I’m saying not to think about the bad stuff, like before.” 

“I-It’s not about the bad stuff, I just…” 

I don’t even know why I hesitate. I’m just… scared, suddenly. When these doubts first came to light, part of me knew Luffy wouldn’t be thrilled that I was having them in the first place. That was most of the reason why I hadn’t risked telling him, after all this time; that, and I wanted to do something on my own, for a change. 

Regardless, I needed to ask, or else it would drive me crazy. 

I had to know. 

“I… I have a question.” 

Luffy hums, tilting his head at me. He’s not smiling, not frowning either – Already, he seems to have noticed something. “Sure. But, you can just ask, y’know.” 

“R-Right, uh…” I swallow. If I said this now, would he realize it for himself? I was sure that he didn’t know about the goals I’d set, to get stronger for him… To not die for him. 

After what he’d said, why was I so anxious to say anything? Did it even matter, anymore? 

That was the point of asking. 

“...Aren’t you scared of dying?” 

Luffy blinks, not really thinking about it as he answers. “Nope.” 

“Why?” The counter rushes from my mouth a little too quickly for my liking, the answer pinching at my heart. 

He shrugs, holding eye contact. “I’ll either become King of the Pirates, or I’ll die.” 

There’s no lie. There never is. 

So why is the confirmation so distressing? Why don’t I know how to feel?

“Why?” Luffy wonders aloud, nudging you out of your ever-entrapping headspace. “Are you?” 

I open my mouth, expecting the answer to be right there, on the tip of my tongue. 

Yes, I am. 

Instead, I’m stopping myself from voicing it aloud. 

Was I afraid to die? 

This wasn’t why I was asking… I wasn’t really asking for me. I hadn’t been asking for myself, not since that day on the boat – when I talked to Nami, confiding all my fears to her – when I made the choice to start training. 

“I…” This wasn’t the right answer. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

I’m more afraid that you will, because of me.

“Oh.” Straightening, sensing your skewed state, Luffy hadn’t actually considered that before. “Well… I won’t die, then.” 

The words hit like a truck. 

All this complication, strenuation – All the overcompassing concerns I’ve been holding, only to be met with such honest simplicity… With such assurance…

Resolution. It’s everywhere. In every cell, every word, every part of what I could feel from my soulmate; He simply wouldn’t die. That was a promise, his kind of promise. 

There is betrayal, and there is relief… What was the basis of this, again? Who had I really done this for? 

“I’ll either become King of the Pirates, or I’ll die.” 

“‘If I keep running into stronger and stronger guys like him in the future, I won’t be able to protect my friends… Unless I get stronger, too.’” 

“Well… I won’t die, then.”

Was that really the answer to all of it? 

Everything’s been uprooted. All that wasted energy, and for what? Why hadn’t I just talked to him, like Nami said? Like Luffy always told me to do? 

This whole time, I could’ve just asked… Was I ever going to learn my lesson? 

I wish we had more time to talk about it. There’s not enough time for that, I know; Robin was waiting, and this wasn’t as important as saving her. 

Deliberating, Luffy keeps quiet, for a minute. There’s something unspoken – that nasty, returning thing that you harbor – and it’s returned with a vengeance, apparently. He wants to talk about it, has a gut feeling you need to talk about it, however there was still something important that you, him and the crew needed to do. Breaking down in the middle of all this, especially now that you all were so close to retrieving your lost friend, was not ideal. This was more than just withholding discomforts to avoid petty fights; Your friend’s life was at stake, and this would be everyone’s one shot to get her back. Luffy was certain you knew that yourself, and that you also knew there would be plenty of time to debrief once all was said and done, just like there always was after an adventure. It was a built-in routine by now. 

“You okay?” 

And yet, after rationalizing it in his head, he still finds himself asking. 

You sigh at that, shaking your head dismissively. It’s when you inch forward and drop your head to his chest that it’s inarguable; Something was wrong, you just weren’t telling him. He’s upset that it’s for the better. 

“Yeah,” 

You whisper it to him, exhausted, forehead bumping his collar bone gratefully – recognizing the attempt, in spite of the situation. 

“Yea… M’okay.” 

—

Tidbit Today!

When Luffy and (Y/n) are together, the former gives our MC a confidence boost. Something about his presence, how unwavering his belief is in himself and in her, as well as how adamantly he protects her (serving as a wonderful backup plan should things go sour), gives her the mental strength to fight back with more resolution. 

Although, we also can’t forget about those who’ve motivated her in the past, as she’s gained some ability to stay strong even without him – Franky was especially helpful with that in this arc.

The point is, we got to see some of this ‘hidden fire’ in our MC in this chapter, as (Y/n) finally makes an attempt at fighting back against an adversary on her own… Despite the fact that it didn’t exactly end on the best note! 

(Zoro would’ve been so proud if he was there for that btw.)

The rain stopped… It stopped maybe around a half an hour ago, at this point. 

As if the very sky itself had been sliced in half, we’d crossed over a brightened threshold between stark seas – Derisive, murky-green waves traded for the tranquility of foamy aquamarine ripples – The sky’s menacing gloom swapped out for a perfect ribbon-blue – It was nearly blinding. A change so drastic that if you’d blinked during the transition you would’ve missed it. 

Still, sunrays couldn’t reach into this frigid atmosphere, held at bay by reinforced steel and bullet-proof glass. Hollowed, exhausted, lagging in mind and body, I longed to feel the sun soak into my water-logged skin. Yet, here we were instead. Stuck inside the last and final train cart, listening to the rattle-rattle of gears and wheels at constant pace. It could’ve given even the sanest individual a nasty case of misophonia. 

Though, in this scenario? I honestly would’ve preferred going insane. 

“This isn’t a game!” 

Sharp as a knife, the belittling reprimand isn’t one I’m keen to receive from Robin, shrinking away from the sting. Conversation has been few and far between, at least up until this point. The woman who’d once been a source of stability had ironically morphed into a stone-cold wall. 

“We’re talking about a place you’ll never be able to return from. What don’t you get about that?” 

It’s time to back track a bit. 

If you couldn’t guess, all three of us had been successfully retrieved by CP9. The highly skilled agents had done away with the loosely put together ‘game plan’ Usopp had concocted, working quickly to catch up to the others in their detached train cart. Even Franky’s efforts to save the attempt, sacrificing himself in the process, did nothing to help; it merely solved one-half of the agent’s problems via delivering himself straight into the leopard’s mouth. I’d watched everything unfold, helpless and pinned to the floor as the man with the horns activated his devil fruit, opening a door that served as some kind of portal and stepping inside. When he stepped out, Robin was with him. She wound up right back in CP9’s custody, although all the calmness that she’d exuded from before had vanished. 

Being a prime witness to her defiance against the broad man’s grasp as she writhed and screamed all the way through the portal-door, with wild black hair and a fierceness that could rival any person backed in a corner, Robin vehemently demanded that they hold up their end of the deal. The archeologist was outraged, threatening to never tell them a word – that she would do everything in her power to fight back, or worse, find some way to remove herself from the equation entirely – trying and failing to dictate the situation by questioning their reasoning behind the decision. She’d only promised to go along with the government's plans willingly so long as the rest of us were unharmed, and with me being dragged into the picture, there was obviously some kind of violation in place. 

I was stumped. Altogether perplexed, horrified and flattered by her will to stand against these people in my defense. The lengths she’d resorted to, fighting tooth and nail, reprimanding, shrieking like a banshee… All that, and still, her threats didn’t work. Stubborn refusal on her part required more convincing on theirs. The solution was simple, in their eyes; If Robin didn’t obey as agreed, then they’d fall back on their promise. After all, the deal was not to kill the Straw Hats, not harm, and they could do a lot worse than just kill me, right?

Soon enough, Robin fell back into a docile state. Only the tiniest signs of the woman’s visceral disagreement slipped through the cracks, and not once did she ever stop glaring at them. 

We were escorted to the holding space in the first cart, being given a brief summary that I was a part of their ‘mission’ just the same as Robin and Franky, without any actual explanation or reasoning. 

That was that. The powerlessness of the situation had weighed on us all for a long while. An hour, at least. 

CP9’s fickleness aside, we didn’t have many options… Or information, for that matter. Corralled here until we arrived at Enies Lobby, there wasn’t much to do aside from stare silently out the window, awaiting our conjoined fates with sparse conversation. All were in agreement with why Robin was taken, along with why Franky was taken. All that was left was me. 

I remember brushing my fingers across the bruised skin on my chin, lost in thought, pondering over why the pain that bloomed beneath my touch made everything feel more real. It was as if the world was falling apart all around me, and the interjection of sensation remained the sole factor rooting me to the real world. My body was failing me again. 

Why me? I couldn’t understand… Just wanted to be far away from this whole mess. Anywhere else; Somewhere with Luffy, preferably.

When my head had begun to droop, eyelids heavy as the train rumbled into my soles – imagining my soulmate's smile in the shadows behind my eyelids – Franky broke the silence. 

“I’ve got an idea.” His deep voice had put a harsh stop to the tingles roaming about in random patterns over my back, neck and arms. “It might be the only way we can help you escape, Shrimp.” 

I think that’s what officially ripped me from the edge of sleep, the rash absurdity of his suggestion returning me to the living with the floorboards swirling in my view. 

By the time Robin had agreed, grasping at the opportunity, I was still heavily debating whether I was in the midst of a dream. Watching both in an astonished daze, Franky appeared much more composed than the woman before him. The archeologist was adamant in the swiftest available opportunity, and they considered potential routes of success. More and more, passing their thoughts back and forth, it became clearer that this wasn’t me dreaming. Their differing mannerisms applied an almost surreal aspect to the discussion before me. 

I listened, quietly – nearly doubling back on myself – rubbing my eyes to then scrape my nails down my cheeks. Once again, the pain made it real, triggering my brain to finally comprehend their thought process. 

One word kept turning up, tying my stomach into knots… My name.

I would only be able to run if the marines weren’t around; I could escape if they managed to distract those government agents; I could leave and find the others; that way, I could have a better chance at getting away.

There’s no certainty as to why it took so long for the notion to click.They were already halfway through the creation of this plan when I’d finally found my voice. 

Everything around me felt as if it was pulling down, like a shitty eraser against dark graphite. The world was sinking, and it took me a while to come to terms with why that was the case. 

“You’re… Not going to escape with me?”

Swapping between Franky’s flattened gaze and Robin’s twisted grimace, the silence told me all I needed to know. There was no way in hell that I could just leave them behind like that. 

“No. No way.” Shaking my head, boring holes into the two of them, my brain frantically began to dispute this plan of action. “I-It’s– You– You can’t… Ask me to do that.” 

“We’re not really askin, if you want me to be honest.” 

“No, Franky– I-I’m serious–” 

“So am I.” 

I’d just caught up to Robin again, captured or not. She was the whole reason why we were all here in the first place. Now… What? They were suggesting I should up and leave them to face this problem on their own? And what about them? They’d be taken to the Gates of Justice, forced to experience true horrors, never to see the light of day again – meanwhile, I was going to get out of all that scott-free? 

That didn’t feel right in the slightest. 

“Wh-Why just me? Why can’t we all leave together?” 

“You know why.” 

Deep down, I did know why. It didn’t make me feel any better about it, or any less guilty. If anything, I was ashamed… But, I knew. 

It was because of Luffy. Because I had a soulmate, and they didn’t. 

And, for some reason, that made me more important than their own lives. Against their opinions, I refuted that wholeheartedly; To no avail. All of my denials had fallen on deaf ears. No matter how much I insisted that they mattered just as much as I did, that just having a soulmate shouldn’t mean I get put on some golden pedestal, they’d already made up their minds. To them, I didn’t have a choice. The cyborg had stated so, and Robin especially who would not be swayed, hence her volatile responses. 

So, now you’re all caught up. 

Enduring the archeologist’s frosty disposition towards me grated away at my resolve, as I’m sure was her goal. Robin kept raising her voice so that it would crowd over mine every time I tried to speak– Lashing out whenever I attempted to defend myself against the tirade. Delicate secrets and past trauma’s were flashing before my eyes, making it all the more difficult to speak out against the woman’s outrage.

When I looked at her – And I mean really, truly looked – I couldn’t completely recognize her as Robin. Within her eyes were the remnants of something terrible, resonating in her words and actions. A someone, rather, who I’d so often confided to her about. She was genuinely scaring me, reawakening all the defense mechanisms I’d harbored throughout the years in order to make me surrender… Right? Robin wasn’t doing this out of malice, she couldn't be. The intentionality of it had doubts surfacing, anyways. If it were any other reason for her to be doing this, then… 

It’s just a mask. That’s what I had to keep reminding myself throughout it all. Like Usopp. She’s trying to hit where it hurts, she doesn’t mean it. Right?

Fear was clouding her judgement, her real self– It had to be. 

Robin was the one who’d sit with me during late nights, offering kindly advice, retelling fond stories from her many travels so that sleep would find me easier. Robin and I would often sit together in the quiet, reveling in the spare moments of calm away from the chaos of the others. Robin would lend me books, assign me specific ones to ‘study’ so that I could learn more about everything in this strange, new world. Robin was so, so much more than this. 

This wasn’t the diligent, studious and kind woman from before… No, this wasn’t Robin. She wasn’t the reflection of my adoptive, abusive mother, either. The woman that wore Robin’s face, with hands clenched into fists and teeth bared, was nothing besides a shell of her former self, driven by an inescapable resignation. There was no more she could fight for, other than this. 

“I’m trying to save you, why don’t you realize that?!” Refusing to back down, Robin shouts at me from across the aisle as we sit opposing each other. Her vocal chords are strained, like a worn violin. “If they take you with us, you’ll never see Luffy or the others again. Is that what you want? To lose your soulmate after searching for him all this time?!” 

Having to fight my own instinctive-silence made everything all the more difficult, swallowing down the well-accustomed clump in my throat; hesitation physically formed to avoid conflict. 

“No, n-no–” Eyes flickering all over her haggard face, speaking up against her reprimands is like climbing up a mountain without a rope. “Robin, just– Just listen for a sec–” 

Of course I didn’t want to be taken to the Gates of Justice. It went against everything I’d worked for – completely dashed my hopes and dreams – and the true answer to her rhetorical question would’ve proved it. If I was brought to that place and disappeared forever, I would suffer beyond anything I’d already endured. Putting my life in danger… Putting Luffy’s life in danger… It wasn’t an option. 

In contrast, I didn’t want to leave Franky and Robin behind, either. I didn’t want to lose them, either of them. Not after all of this. 

So, there lies the conflict… To live, leaving my friends to die, and losing yet another integral piece of my found family. Or, to go with them, then losing all the things I cherished, essentially killing both myself and my soulmate in the process. 

Either way, I had to remind myself – it wasn’t up to me. 

“You gotta stay alive for Straw Hat, right? That’s what you told me earlier.” 

Pausing, the oncoming defiance collapses back into my lungs like iron. Realization is swift, practically a slap to the face, once I understand what the cyborg is referring to. 

“Luffy might… He’s gonna die, n’ I can’t… Because I can’t– B-Because he’s tied to me.”

“If you’re really asking me? It’s simple really. Just do everything you gotta do to make sure that it doesn’t happen.” 

Shit.

All of a sudden, Robin’s surprised expression resembles something judgemental. In my addled mind, there’s less confusion, and more inability to think straight. 

I've been thinking about it. I even included it in my reasoning as to why their planning was more help than harm, aside from the intentional avoidance in bringing it up. This whole time I’ve been fighting against them, while they’re making an effort to rebuke my biggest fear yet – dying. And taking Luffy down with me. That was the one and only reason I couldn’t refute. After all the cyborg had done for me… With it being out on the table, I was acting like a selfish brat. 

“So, what the hell are you gonna do about it, then?” 

Accept their help. That’s what I’m supposed to do. 

Crossing his broad arms, the action emphasizes Franky’s effort in ending this conversation. It’s inarguable, proven by a re-statement akin to the motivations given earlier; 

“Here’s your chance. It’s time to do something about it.” 

Shaking my head for the umpteenth time, I avoid his gaze, finding a vacant space to scrutinize in our confinement. If I wasn’t ashamed before, I definitely was now. 

The crevices in the floorboards sneer up at me as I bite down on my lip, unable to respond. The taste of defeat is sour and acrid, like bile. 

Hypocrite. Fool. You dug yourself into this hole, and you know it. 

A moment. Then another. Robin eases up – I can see her shoulders slacken, her body raising – no longer defensive since she’d won the battle. 

You shouldn’t be denying their help when it aligns with everything you’ve worked for.  

There’s no other excuses I can muster, no ideas other than to relinquish. It was a betrayal, no matter how well meaning; attacked on both fronts with the secrets I’d shared with them in my weakest moments. 

Just accept it. You’re not strong enough to do this on your own. 

Not really, though… This wasn’t a betrayal. They were just looking out for me; And how was I supposed to argue against my own admittances?

“But, I…” 

Words tremble, fading into a breath as the syllables snap and my voice breaks. It’s as if there’s too much air in my lungs, yet not enough at the same time. 

“I-I can’t… Just leave you guys.”

At the sidelines, the black-haired woman stiffens. 

She isn’t moving, practically isn’t breathing. The whimpered relinquishment threads through her heartstrings, nostalgic– 

“I mean… I-I can’t just leave you behind, Robin. Why would I do that?”

You said it. Almost the exact way as you’d said it back then. Not the words, but the meaning. Did you still hold that same sentiment? After all this time? 

…After everything that Robin had done? 

Frighteningly – having gone through hell, experiencing all these hardships, making choices that she knew had to be chosen – this is where she’s nearest to a breakdown. The woman could be belittled, scoffed at, threatened… None of it compared to this. 

You’re distraught. Beyond sorrow and clinging to some kind of desperation that your presence will be anything but a burden if it means somehow saving the archeologist from certain doom. Robin knows that – of course she knows that. It’s almost enough to make her regret everything. To take it all back, and keep living… But, you don’t know better. You aren’t aware of what will happen if Robin chooses to stay. 

Fighting back the burning of fond memories, bracing against the uncomfortable seat and the rumbling floorboards, Robin finds her resolve slipping. She can’t lose her composure. Not here, not now. She had to see this through, or else everything she loved would disappear all over again. That’s what all of this was for in the first place. For you, for the others–

Yet, still… Why?

Why did you have to be here? Why did these people even want you in the first place?

Why did it have to be you?

“Why…?” Hoarse from overexertion, the whisper almost doesn’t meet your ears. 

Robin repeats it, regardless.

“Why?” She asks, with more force behind it this time. The woman’s tone wavers. “Why did you come here?” 

No answer. She glances at you, her fingers slipping from the cushion just a little more. Your face is bruised, your cheeks splotchy. Your eyes are pooled with all the sorrow in the world. Inevitably, under that gaze it feels as if Robin is being ripped in half. 

There isn’t any other choice.

“I told you to stay behind… I told all of you to stay away!” Pessimism warrants aggression, and Robin belts the words exploding from her mouth, ignited like explosives biding time in her belly. “You should never have come after me in the first place!” 

Whispering, your response is meek. “...What else were we supposed to do? We couldn’t just– Just let you get taken. I-I… We… We wanted to help–” 

“I don’t need your help!” 

Robin’s forlorn wailing, grating painfully against her throat, rings incessantly in her own ears. 

“I’m doing this for all of you– I want to do this, so why can’t you just let me? Leave me here and go back to your own lives!” 

She had to do this. Pushing you away was best. Best for you, for everyone else–

“I…” Even when your voice is wobbling, lips trembling – You stand firm. “I-I don’t believe you…”

You catch the woman off-guard, this time. 

Having spent so long ripping into you – your psyche, your mind – Robin’s aim to psychologically cripple you has failed… Something she never expected to happen, given all her knowledge over your past. The archeologist was aware of certain stimuli which could cause you to react in certain ways, using it to her advantage as best as she could, yet she hadn’t foreseen you lasting this long. She believed you’d given up the fight once the cyborg’s intervention resulted in solemn silence, however this wasn’t the case at all. 

It didn’t make sense in her mind, one driven by historical and scientific evidence. All causes had an effect. This was supposed to be yours, yet it was being disproven with each minute that passed. Only when Robin chose to search your expression did she finally comprehend why. 

Sparking to life as the glistening in your eyes lessens by a touch, the archeologist can see the alterations as they occur. You steel your shoulders, brows twisting determinedly – the sudden shift noticeable only by those who know what to look for – then, the final touches? A subtle clenching of your jaw, fingers digging into your palms. 

And Robin can see it. 

An impression, a resemblance that’s surely undeniable – a self-embodiment of your soulmate – of Luffy, save for the tears. 

“You can't…” You breathe in, steadying yourself. “Actually want this, Robin.” 

Quiet. Nothing, at first. 

Inevitably, her shock resorts to aggression once again. 

“What the hell do you know?” Robin spits, taking care to gaze anywhere other than your sights.

There isn’t another choice.

“You don’t know anything about this place– You know nothing about me, or about what it means to be involved with me!” 

“I-I don’t–” Interrupted by your own breath, there’s a sharp inhale, followed by a huff of exasperation. “I don’t care!” 

Taken-aback, Robin says nothing. Franky stays quiet.

“I-I don’t care, okay?” You sniffle, repeating yourself, tone falling flat. “Whatever– So what? I don’t know much about this place, n’ I-I don’t know about you. Whatever. I don’t care about that. A-And… N’ I don’t care about the government, or all this crazy, stupid, absolutely insane shit about a-a weapon– O-Or whatever else is goin’ on…”

Voice clicking with the congestion and swelling of your throat, you pause, swallowing down the thickened phlegm. Nobody interrupts, having nothing to add as you vent away. 

“The only thing I care about is you. And Luffy, and our friends,” More tears, more struggling to speak, and a humorless laugh. “And even you, Franky.” 

“...Thanks, I guess.” 

You nod back at him, smile lacking in emotion. Shortly, it falls away. 

“Yeah…” A deep breath, then; “I also… I care about– about that time, when we first met… When I first showed up. You a-and Nami were the first ones to help me with… I dunno, everything?”

You’re asking – she realizes – if she remembers. 

Heart aching anew, Robin remembers, bearing no signs of acknowledgement. 

“N’ all those times where I-I was so bored, and… You would offer me those books, to keep me busy. Or… Or we’d play chess, and listen to the boys being stupid.” 

Digging for an answer, a reaction, anything, you continue onwards; even when the tears well up all over again. 

“Those nights where I would wake up– from my nightmares… A-And you’d be awake. You’d always have a candle… You’d be reading…” Having trouble getting the words out, the sentence trails off meekly. “I always told you how– How Chopper would be so u-upset about you staying up late again… But… But, really– I was so, so glad that you were there… Every time.”

There’s more you could say. So much more, with not enough time. 

Outside, the breaks squeal, masking the sound of Robin’s teeth clenching tight as she bites down on her bottom lip, and her breath gets caught in a throbbing mass of agony. A cascade of black falls forwards, blocking all view of her face – a makeshift shield. There’s nothing she can say, and only one thought on her mind. 

…Why can’t there be another choice? 

“A-Alright, Shrimp,” Struggling to hide the soggy tears for the sake of his manlihood, Franky takes a stand. “Man, this is killin’ me, but… But i-it’s almost showtime. So, just… Get ready, or whatever!” 

That’s where the conversation leaves off, to be forever left in that train cart, until the very moment that CP9 and their associated members come to prepare you all for transport. Franky cries, and you hold your focus on Robin, waiting for her to say something in return… In the end, she never does. 

In the end… She never even looks at you. 

—

His jaw is killing him. 

Well, really Luffy’s whole head was aching – after a while, he’d come to realize that his jaw and chin were only the most sensitive of the general area – and the captain was well aware that this pain wasn’t his own. Perched at the nose of Rocket Man, crossing into this bewildering new sea-scape, it wasn’t long before the sensations rammed right into his bones. It’d set off alarm bells in the boy’s mind, ruminating on his previous concerns on your safety. Whether or not you were okay was the first thought; The fact that you were close enough to feel, the second. 

That meant Luffy was catching up. That meant he’d get to you, and Robin, in no time; he just had to beat you both to those doors. Either way, he wasn’t about to wait around for this chance to slip from his grasp. 

Fast forward to the captain sling-shotting over the iron-barred fences, skipping straight over the main gate – brawling like a bull through the marine forces stationed on the other side – inevitably clearing the second gate – now the boy’s trying to navigate through this maze of a city, punching and kicking as he goes. He was having fun with it for a while, however this whole thing was growing a bit too tedious for his liking. 

The pain is a guide, a tried and true method of finding you in the past. There’s a path he’s following, one his body knows but his mind doesn’t, and Luffy’s tracing your trail whilst he’s practically blind. It’s driving him, the something that weaves like threads through each of your aligned souls. From the moment he’d stepped foot into this red-clay city, everything in regards to you was amplified. 

Here, the boy could measure the irregular panging in his head based on your proximity; stronger in certain directions, weaker in others. Luffy ran left, and something would argue against it, unrelentingly disturbing his thoughts until the point where he’d turn right. Rushing forwards in response, pushing deeper into the run-down city – Suddenly, there would arise a stinging through the muscles of one of his calves. 

All of these stacking sensations were signs leading to you, so whatever the message delivered in that invisible reel drawing him closer to you, Luffy would follow it without question. That bond between you and him would be the perfect tool in order to lead him straight to you, and hopefully Robin, too. 

But, again… This city was a damn maze, and the captain was losing his patience with the unending forces constantly coming at him. Wave after wave, Luffy hadn’t been counting how many men he’d brought down within the last thirty minutes. Still, it’s not like the trail of bodies in his wake was something he dwelled on anyways. He had other things on his mind. 

“Gimme–” 

Outstretching a lengthened arm, he effortlessly bats away the men that swarm in from the sidelines, roaring the words with unfounded annoyance. 

A few men fire. Luffy feels the bullets sink into his flesh, never breaking the skin. Pulling taut, projectiles protruding from his back like a humanized-porcupine, the friction between epidermis and metal produces a tingling just before his rubbery body rejects them entirely, and the otherwise-penetrable ammo is flung back at the same individuals who’d fired them. An entirely unforeseen betrayal on their part.

“Back–”

Again, his arms outstretch, a massive batch of marine grunts heading straight for him. The captain's reach avoids them, instead aiming to dislodge a fully-grown tree, ripping it straight out of the ground and reeling it back horizontally. 

As he pulls the trunk towards him, it scoops up the unsuspecting men, slamming into their backs. They have no clue what hits them up until the log gets within twenty feet of the boy, then–

“My girlfriend!”

It gets flung into the air, marines and all. 

A serenade of screams fades away as the uprooted tree falls haphazardly somewhere in the distance. Those left untouched on the scene stare in horrified awe, eyes trailing from the projectile, back to the teenage boy. 

Unfazed, glaring forwards as the sweat sticks black hair to his brow, a few terrified men take a tentative step back at the humorless determination on Luffy’s face. An aggravated vein pops from his forehead. 

He stands firm, righting his posture so that his soldiers square in preparation of another incoming wave, practically snarling; 

“And Robin, too.” 

—

“What?!”

Hunched over his shiny, marble desk – palm flattened on its surface to keep him stabilized – the government agent, Spandam, shrieks into the phone. His voice holds an impressively high pitch, stressed to another octave entirely.

Gaping down at the perfectly cut flooring, the freshly mopped and steamed surface reflects the disturbed expression of his face, wild eyes flickering aimlessly as he processes the information received. 

“D-Do you– You mean to tell me that (L/n) (Y/n) is no longer in our possession?!”

“Y-Yes, sir. On the main island, the other two hostages managed to help her get away somehow–”

“Idiots!” Spandam interrupts, voice breaking as panic sets in. This was not how events were meant to unfold. To him, there’s no excuse. “How could you let this happen?!” 

“I-I’m– I’m sorry sir, we aren’t sure how–” 

“Retrieve her, now!” The order is clear, precise… Realistically, more of a threat than anything. “Did it not occur to you that Straw Hat Luffy is now in that same location?!”

“Yes, sir– I-It did, sir–”

“Enough! Do not let him find her before we do, or it’s your head on the line! That girl is of the highest priority, do you hear me?! We need her alive!”

“Uh, yes– Yes sir. I’ll get on that right away–” 

Spandam doesn’t bother waiting for the underling to finish. The microphone of the snail is slammed into its receiver, ending the call abruptly. 

The room lies in unrest for a trembling moment. Eventually, Spandam smacks his fist down to the rock alongside the phone, causing the transponder snail to jolt and jostle in surprise. He doesn’t notice the gastropod-like technology glaring at him, preoccupied by his panic. “...How could this happen?!” 

Looking to the three CP9 members in his presence, his shoulders slump in defeat at the lack of care they conveyed. None of them belonged to the group who’d been so careless as to lose such an important individual, so how was it their problem? 

Still, it sure as hell was Spandam’s. The shrillness of his woes is evidence of this fact. 

“They’re supposed to be a part of the elite– Not act like those white-wearing imbeciles! What the hell is Lucci thinking?!” Collapsing back into his chair, the vengeance that’s been coursing through Spandam’s veins is overshadowed by dread. He brings a nervous hand to his forehead, gloves catching on the metal brace that hides his permanent facial disfiguration; The entire basis behind his revenge. On the bright side, at least he’d be able to take out some of this vexing, anxious energy on the perpetrator who’d made him this way. 

The exhausted pallor of Spandam’s face stands clear in the shadows cast, long windows gleaming at his back being the only source of light in the room. It was an ironically angelic sight to behold, for someone as unredeemable as the man sitting in the chair. Those in higher places wouldn’t be thrilled about Cipher Pol’s inability to complete a simple delivery task, no less one as important as this. The repercussions would surely be severe for the CP9’s leading commander.

He leans back, childishly crossing his arms and jutting his lip – a ‘tough’ mask for his fears potentially coming to fruition. Just when things were starting to go his way, too!

“I won’t let this slide. If any of those idiots fail me, there’ll be hell to pay!” 

—

“After her!”

Whipping around the nearest corner, I feel my skin scrape away on my arm, scuffing against the pop-corn ceiling texture of worn-red concrete. 

“Quick, this way!” 

“Don’t let her get away!” 

The hurried calls from the marines echo down the thin alley way which I’ve thrown myself into. I can hear their boot-clad feet stomping the ground, a few men branching off from the mob to stay on my tail. 

A rat scurries between my steps, causing me to stumble into a pile of crates stacked nearby. I push off of their splintered exteriors so that I might regain my speed, and the alley branches off, merging into a vacant intersection. 

Pausing, heaving shallow and deep all at once– The shackles on my wrists clink together in harsh reminder. Back in chains after all. 

Not important, though. I don’t know where to go.

Calm down – breathe. Each inhale participates in futile competition with each exhale, and neither bears any restraint whilst tearing through my dry throat. 

Heart pounding, the path in front of me swarms with tenacious soldiers within the same moment I step into it. 

I hesitate, backtrack; except the men behind me are getting closer, louder. To my left is the same. 

Legs shaking, body fumbling over whether or not it was better to flight or freeze as the panic sets in that I might be trapped–

I jerk to my right. The way is clear. 

Move.

Flight is a better option. I run, and can only hope that it doesn’t lead to a dead-end. There’d been two so far, and I’d only managed to escape by the skin of my teeth. Both times. 

Stop thinking. Move, move, move–

“If she finds Straw Hat Luffy, we won’t get another chance!” 

“She’s headed your way, Group Three– Try to cut her off, now!” 

Luffy. Luffy. Luffy.

It’s a chant – the only consistent thought in my brain that keeps me motivated. He’s here, in this city.

At the edge of my senses, beneath the weakened muscles and the pumping heartbeat, I could actually feel him. There’s not enough time to gather myself, though… No moment to spare so that I can hone into the feeling. I had to focus on this, stay in the moment – keep moving – If I didn’t, then I’d run straight into the people chasing me. 

“Fuck…” I huff to myself, throat tightening in frustration. The urge to cry is, as always, ever-present. 

Only a moment. I just needed one– Some time to breathe.

“We’re trying, but she’s too fast!” 

Calm down. But I can’t. 

It’s difficult to run with my arms stuck in such an awkward position, held together in front of me. The walls of my throat feel as if they’ve been shredded by razors, the taste of blood back to haunt me. My legs are heavy. They ache so badly, and the pre-acquired wounds aren’t helping. 

I can’t stop. Not yet. 

“Don’t let up! She’ll get tired eventually!” 

How did I get here? I couldn’t even tell you how it happened. 

At the time, I hadn’t realized it, but CP9 must have split off from the group. I remember walking alongside Franky and Robin, hearing the metal of his chains creak, disagreeing whilst his reinforced body strained against the containment. Then the chains flew off with a plunk! Jingling all the way to the ground. He’d rolled his broad shoulders, grabbed me with both arms, and said;

“Here goes nothing, Shrimp– Hold on tight!” 

There wasn’t even enough time for me to register or process, lungs lurching in my chest as the cyborg activated his extendable forearms. Next thing I knew, I was deep in the city, away from the marines. 

Still, that final aspect didn’t last long at all. The marines were insistent, determining my location quicker than anticipated. I didn’t know how to get back to them, or whether they would be alright– 

So, when the marines did show up, I ran. There wasn’t another option. There wasn’t any other choice.

They’d given me the option to save myself, as my friends. They wanted me to abandon them… None of my self-assurances made it any easier, and I’d been racing half-blind throughout this unending chase sequence because of it. 

Half an hour. That’s how long it felt like I’d been running. 

I can admit I hadn’t exactly been keeping track – needless to say, I hadn’t expected to get this far. I’d expected to be tackled, reigned back in as Rachel had enforced before. It never happened. 

I didn’t know why it had worked. I didn’t know how. Maybe they were chasing me. Maybe Rachel or the other agents were among all these troops that relentlessly filled the vacant space like ants. Regardless, I couldn’t stop long enough to think about it. If I did, all of Franky’s effort would’ve been for nothing, and then I would never be able to find Luffy. 

The back-alley opens up into another wide area for the tenth time in a row. Looks clear…

Hobbling out, the dust stirs around my ankles. Nothing, no one. 

Swallowing down the dry air with an audible gulp and a whining groan, I cup my side, hunched as it erupts in stabbing pain. A cramp from running. The risky, momentary rest granted a reminder that I was steadily exerting all my energy – approaching my limit. 

That couldn’t be… No, not yet. 

Please, not yet–

“I found her! Over here!” 

“Wait–”

It flashes before my eyes just before it occurs; A deafening, spattering blast which spooks me outright. With a jolting duck towards the dirt, the bullets plink-plink-plink into the crumbling wall just over my head. I can’t help releasing the terrified shriek when destroyed bits of rock bounce against my shoulders, reinforcing the evidence that I’d just been shot at. 

“–Don’t shoot!”

“You dumbass– Our orders were to use non-lethal weapons only!” 

The nerves rev back into overtime. 

I lunge forward in my half-tucked position. Forcibly held-together arms displace my natural core-balance, and I nearly topple into the dirt, but I manage well enough. 

Just run. Keep moving

Pushing into a full sprint towards the next alley is an attempt to shake off the numbers that somehow always manage to keep up. All I know is that they have a harder time keeping track of me through the thinner walkways, since not all of them can pursue without creating some sort of bottleneck… Even so, it’s obvious that the marines know this city better than myself, and they’re good at finding ways to cut me off. 

“We lost her again! Damn it–”

“Could somebody get us some useful intel here?!”

Scrambling around the corner, I slip on a loose patch of earth. The wall is enough to keep me from collapsing. Gripping the corner, I grit my teeth, eyes watering while my legs throb– 

I can’t keep this up much longer. 

Using my grip as leverage, vaulting from the wall, I try to throw myself into another grueling pace – noticeably slower now. 

I had to do something, now. Something different… 

What do I do?

“She’s approaching the northern streets–”

They’re catching up. 

“Got it, we’ll get her for sure this time!” 

Shit… Shit.

I’m gonna get caught. 

What do I do? 

Should I break the cuffs? Can I break the cuffs? Will I even have time for that? 

No– I don’t even have time to be thinking this much! 

Swerving around the next corner, my breath catches in my windpipe, immediately sliding to a stop. 

There, a stupefied marine spots me, standing at the end of the way. Slowly, his face twists into a hellbent snarl. My heart is ramming in my chest. When he points in my direction, shouting something to me, or his other comrades, I can barely hear it. 

The walls are closing in – I struggle to turn back around and regain my prior speed – there’s nowhere to go.  

“Fuck–” Half sobbing, half gasping, my vision blurs; Head light from the lack of proper airflow. It’s hard to think–

What should I do? 

Where do I go? 

Through my spinning vision, I spot a door – the hum of muffled noise around me softens. I beeline for it. 

My hands slap against the handle, the metal is cold, rusted– and unlocked! 

Yanking it open, I fling myself inside– 

SLAM! 

The room is dark. My face pales. Idiot. That was way too loud. 

Muffled voices are close, shouting in the distance.  

Fumbling further into the room, tripping over my own feet spinning in circles – there’s a few doors – a bedroom, a living room, a window– Should I try to leave through there?

Shadows pass by the glass, shielded by a thin curtain. Nope.

Trying with all my might not to let the sob slip from my mouth, my palms plant by my temples, sliding down to the sides of my neck. A few tepid steps backwards–

There’s another room. 

—

“I found her! Over here!” 

Luffy halts mid-swing, eyes widening with an audible grunt. The marines before him are left perplexed by the stark change from relentless barrage to complete stillness. 

Bang– bang– bang– bang– bang– bang–

Rapid-fire sets off in what he assumes is the same location as the voice's source, the rounds popping off one after another. The captain half turns towards the source, already suspicious that it’s either you or Robin that their shouting after, and likely shooting after–

Then the boy hears you – hears the shriek that he could recognize from a mile away ever since he heard it in Skypiea – a heartdropping note pitched by fear. 

“Wha– Straw Hat! Get back here and fight!” 

The captain vanishes from the scene entirely. 

Associating the two noises, one sounding right after the other, urgency leaves the marines that Luffy’d been previously occupied with in the dust. He doesn’t care about the taunts aiming to coax him back into battle, all his focus targeted in finding you, grappling for the bond to give him even the littlest information on if you’re alright or not. If you’d been shot, then there’d be hell to pay. 

“Don’t shoot!” A voice calls, obscured by the air rushing in Luffy’s ears. His eyes are scanning all over the area, an advantage of launching high enough in the air for a birds-eye-view, however there’s no visible signs of you being there.

“Dammit…” Cursing, the boy's eyebrows furrow, aiming to land in the nearest open space. “This stupid bond isn’t even working!” 

Hat blowing off his head, caught around his neck by the string, all at once Luffy feels the bond wrangle him into a literal chokehold. It’s as if the manifestation itself is insulted by the question, tightening, wrapping like a coiling snake. 

With the constriction over-burdening as the ground grows nearer, only when the boy coughs does it find forgiveness. All tension shifts from his body to the tether instead, the result being that the once lackluster trace of you snaps rigid. There’s no arguing against it, even if he wanted to. 

“Alright, I got it…” The boy huffs, gritting his jaw in minor irritation, speaking to the invisible force as if it could hear his complaints. “Didn’t have to choke the hell out of me… Whatever. Thanks, I guess.” 

A firm tug within a core piece of his soul is the only response he gets, reinforcing the message. It’s telling him where you are – depicting your exhaustion, your aching limbs… Hell, even your frazzled state of mind, laced with desperate panic as your energy dwindles. Better yet, you’re still moving, and relatively unharmed. Certainly not shot. Plus, the boy thinks he can tell the direction you’re going. Although the men that are shouting orders, chasing after you as you try to flee the area, are enough of a guide for him to determine that notion as certain. 

He was so close. All that was left to do was catch up before anyone else did. 

“You dumbass– Our orders were to use non-lethal weapons!” 

A pair of men arguing amongst the bunch, distraught by their recent loss. Only when Luffy’s body blocks out the sun do they take notice.

“Gum-gum… Gatling!” 

Swift to take care of the forces before the boy even makes his landing, it’s a devastating defeat that results in dozens of marines knocked out cold; Not much different than his previous dealings. 

Feet slamming into the ground, the boy cups both hands to his mouth, takes a deep breath, and bellows your name so loud it bounces off the walls amongst the emptiness. 

“(Y/n)!”

No response. 

Another discontented groan, and Luffy’s running towards the nearest vacant side-street. 

There’s more marines that the captain’s forced to fight through, taking no joy out of the exercise. He’s only fighting to get them out of his way at this point, not looking to extend his stay for longer than need be… Whipping an outstretched leg to catapult the next angry mob he runs into; destroying a loose wooden overhang on a nearby building to block the way for some oncoming troops; running into a dead end and shouting into the sky at the top of his lungs when, despite knowing that you’re within the immediate area, it’s impossible to navigate this labyrinth of a city and track you down at the same time. 

“She’s approaching the northern streets–”

“Got it, we’ll get her for sure this time!” 

Overhearing the eagerness in the soldiers' tones, Luffy books after their voices with an overflowing, fouled mood. Rounding the corner, he spots the two men that he supposed were the ones speaking, only to find another figure joining the fray – a woman, stalking over to them with a downturned nose and a hellbent snarl, dirty blonde hair spiking from her head whilst blue eyes bore them down. The two see her coming, and immediately shrink in their spots. 

“Are you celebrating?” Snatching up one of the men by the collar, the woman all but spits in the other's face. “You were given one job, and so far all you’ve done is chase her around like idiots! Now, tell me where the hell that little shit went, and I’ll bring her to the Gates of Justice myself–” 

Occupied with the sniveling grunt in front of her, Rachel doesn’t spot Luffy racing down the gloom of the alley – not until she can discern the captain's preemptive growling. Despite that, it’s already too late. Jerking backwards to find the boy in the air above her, her eyes widen to find Straw Hat Luffy pulling back an arm with all the animosity of an untamed animal, nose wrinkled and teeth bared. 

Stunned, Rachel finds her feet pinned to the ground. An unusual sense of dread washes over her – something she doesn’t feel very often from random opponents. It throws her off completely. Inherently, every instinct is telling that she stood no chance against this kid, and the disbelief of this fact only doubles-down on her nonexistent reaction-time. 

“Yeah, right…” Luffy doesn’t know who she is, he just knows she’s stronger than these other guys – alongside the fact that she was after you. “You’ll have to get through me first– Now get outta my way!” 

And when Rachel flinches away, inherently, she’s already admitted defeat. 

WHAM!!

Not bothering to announce the move, Luffy’s fist jets out in a typical ‘gum-gum pistol,’ ramming straight into Rachel’s sternum without remorse. The woman swears she hears some of her ribs cracking as the air wheezes from her lungs, colliding with the ground with so much force that the beginnings of the earth crumbling under her body are a mere forethought; blacking out as she molds into a Rachel-sized crater in the dirt. 

The captain’s fist reverts to its normal length, and the woman doesn’t move. The two marines, having practically shit their pants at the sight of a CP9 agent being completely obliterated, are left with wobbling knees and ghastly appearances. 

Nevertheless, with the enemy dealt with, Luffy keeps moving. His sandals slide against the dusty ground to regain stability, picking up on the traces of you and chasing after it once more. 

“(Y/n)!” Calling again, your connection thrumming like an overrun battery, Luffy peers down every street, every alley, every passage he can possibly find… Again, nothing. “Where the hell did you go?!” 

SLAM!

Instantly, he backpedals, shuffling in place against the street’s red-laid bricks. Waving his arms to stay balanced, the sound of the door slamming shut reverberates all around him, having originated a few streets behind. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“She must’ve gone into one of the buildings!” 

“Search the area – don’t leave any space untouched! Look everywhere–” 

Whack!

The last guy’s knocked out cold, his friends gone out before him. 

Luffy, breathing heavily in the quiet street, eyes the doors lining the walls – lingering on the one beside him, there’s a sliver of darkness visible from one of the marines meaning to go inside. Swallowing the dryness in his throat, there’s no doubt about it. 

It’s that one. You’re in there. 

The door creaks softly as he pushes it open. 

Stepping in, keeping in mind the distant shouts from the various enemies around, the captain finds enough care to hold the door from slamming as you’d done, shutting it as quiet as he’s able. With all access to the outside world sealed, the building falls into a hush. Taking a deep breath, there’s more than enough time available for his body to rest. 

Initial observations tell him there’s nobody in here… Well, not really. You were definitely in here somewhere – he just couldn’t see you. There weren’t any marines, though. That was good. 

“(Y/n)?” Much softer in his calls, comically elongating your name in a sort of sing-song manner, Luffy pokes his head into each room. “You in here?” 

The slap of his sandals is the only noise he can hear for a minute. Luffy waits, listens–

Creeaak…

Luffy’s heart leaps to his throat. 

The noise breaks the stale air; Awkward, discreet, and gentle. It’s just like you.  

When the boy circles to scrutinize the kitchen, it shouldn’t be a surprise, yet it hits him as if for the very first time – the elation that floods his system – thwarting all those negative emotions garnered during the exhaustive process of trying to get you back this whole time. It’s exactly as he’d remembered, if not better… That feeling that was you. That feeling was what he’d been waiting for this whole time– 

And when Luffy catches the upper-kitchen cabinet slowly opening up, it summons an unexpectedly refreshing sense of deja-vu. The captain grins, excitement brewing.

Four fingers pop out from inside, curling around the door's edge with white knuckles. You push just a little further – inching the cupboard open as if expecting something to jump out at you from the other side – then, one of your eyes pops into frame, peeking out at him timidly. 

Pretty, (e/c), doe-eyes.

Luffy can literally feel his muscles, his expression, his very skin soften. Just the sight of your eyes has him turning all melty, just as he’d been hoping… Practically aching for it. There’s a warmth bathing all over, altogether satisfying – addicting. 

Seeing him, you blink, eyes widening. The small door opens up without hesitation, swinging open to clack against the cupboards parallel, all caution thrown to the wind. 

You stare at him for a long moment, teary eyed, pushing a leg out of the cramped space. 

“...Luffy?” Your voice is quiet, gentle… Watery and whimpering.

Unknowingly breathless, he huffs out a chuckle. You’re asking for his name as if you might be hallucinating or something. Not that he blames you – Luffy feels similar, selfishly basking in the pleasant sensations before approaching – he just can’t help but laugh. You were hiding in a cupboard, of all things. Something you’d done previously whilst playing hide n’ seek. 

“Found you!” Eyes flickering across your form one more time, his smile widens, giddiness inevitably taking over. Laughing only feels right. “Took me forever, I’ve been running around like crazy cus’ I could feel you were around here, but I couldn’t figure out where. Then I heard you scream, and then I heard these guys–”

Luffy stops himself short at the sound of a strangled hiccup. 

Having managed to squeeze both legs from the opening, weakly pulling yourself forwards, rivers of tears are pouring down your face. He watches you give up, wedged too tight in the small space – sobbing, shaky hands raising in a poor attempt to wipe the wetness away – you look to him again, relieved… Released. 

It only made sense that both of you had been waiting for this. 

The excruciating, insurmountable passage of time had taken its toll being away from each other. How long had you begged for this? How long had you hoped to the heavens that the two of you could reconnect and make everything right again? You weren’t even sure. Now Luffy was here, right in front of you, close enough to touch. Hearing him, seeing him, a freight train of emotion was soon to deliver. The surge of comfort, stability, warmth… All of the effects of your soulmate just being here was almost too much to comprehend, considering everything that’d happened while he was away. It would all be okay, now. 

You let it all out. Everything. Released. 

Your breath hitches, crying hard whilst your muscles shake so hard they lock up. It’s the same kind of crying that only happens when you reach a breaking point, reflected by all the things that Luffy can feel rolling through the bond in waves. 

There’s a complete mess of emotion seeping into his soul; Relief, that he’s here; Fear, from what he can only guess is due to being chased all through the area; Guilt, about which he isn’t sure; And an overall sense of devastation. Luffy doesn’t know the source of that, either. Suffice to say, a lot must’ve happened while you were separated. A lot more than he’d thought. 

Noticing the shackles on your wrists hindering your movement, the captain’s already moving before you start to mumble again. 

“I-I…” A gasp, another hiccup – the words aren’t working. There’s so much you want to say, and only one thing you can say without faltering; “Luffy, I–” 

“Don’t worry about it right now.” 

Whatever you’re trying to tell him, it can wait. 

The threat is a little less imminent, the space quiet enough to assign as a hideaway for the both of you… Even if he isn’t sure when the marines will eventually figure out where the two of you are hiding. He would figure that out when it happened, so it can wait.

“Just c’mere already.” And nearly bumping his chin into your knees, Luffy reaches for you. 

Squeezing his hands into the confined space, fingers finding your hips and waist, Luffy plucks you from the spot and lifts. There’s a loud jangle when your conjoined hands reach out to snag his vest, automatically reciprocating when Luffy hovers over the countertop so that you can slide out of the cupboard and to the floor. 

Given a few spare seconds where your feet hit the ground, the boy’s arms take no time at all to squeakily-wind around the two of you in tight loops; A massive bear hug, ten times as effective considering he’s able to literally envelope you in his arms. 

Despite the constraints, you can finally breathe. 

Arms wedged snugly between you two, flattening your palms over the center of his chest – feeling its steady rise and fall, a pattern that aligns somewhere between the rapid beating of his heart – it’s practically hypnotic. The pads of your fingers tingle upon first contact with his bare skin, and the proximity of his entire being brushes like a comforting mist all down your arms and back…

His face presses into the top of your head, whispered breaths passing along your scalp, soothing down your nape and spine. You press a little closer, sigh a little easier. The boys limbs pool to drape around all the nooks and curves of your body where they’re wrapped, utterly encased. Everything that is him, even down to the salt and sweat against his skin, feels like belonging.

What were once uncontrollable convulsions start to dwindle into something lesser; a mere shiver as you bury your head into the captain's neck, red cloth dutifully soaking up your tears. Eventually, your eyes close, just breathing into his skin. 

Leaning his head against the side of yours, Luffy takes it all in with a goofy smile plastered across his lips, effortlessly pulled into your gravity. Your scent is what he keeps coming back to. It’s pretty still, like flowers (as always), and he laughs. The tapping of your fingers are like petals smoothing over his frazzled nerves, allowing him the freedom to mold his rubbery skin wherever it rested in complete relaxation. 

It’s you, and it’s him. Just as it’s supposed to be. 

Together. 

Whole. 

When the air brushes your ear, the result is a squirming twist from where you’re trapped in his hold. Gifting him a weak, somewhat disgruntled grunt in return, ticklish, he recognizes you’re no longer crying. Luffy chuckles and squeezes a little more, bending to shove his nose into your skin as you’ve done to him. Your shoulder rises in response, inadvertently cupping his face in the curve there with the instinct to shy away, although you choose to keep holding the position. 

Despite the fact that Luffy is relishing in the sensation he knew once to be different, the boy can’t stay quiet (or still) for very long. After a few minutes have passed, him shifting every so often, he figures that your upset outburst has run its course. That meant it was alright to start talking. 

Luffy’s head departs from the crevice in your neck, aiming to pull back so he can look at you to his heart's content (and to check on you, but that part was obvious). “You okay?” 

Eyelashes clumped, eyes rimmed with red, you look up at him after a moment, relinquishing the spot from where you’ve tucked yourself. “...Yeah, m’okay.”

You sound small. The waver in your voice ignites something akin to protectiveness. Though he hates when you cry, there’s a fondness that it’s your voice, nonetheless. 

“Good,” A few loops unravel, one arm let loose while the other stays put, slung across the small of your back. As if the action comes naturally, Luffy’s lips plant at your hairline as the captain mutters against the skin, unwilling to break physical contact. “I missed you a lot, y’know… It’s not as fun when you’re not around.” 

Leaning back once more, (e/c), glossy irises find his sights in a haze. Reverence shines there, as does adoration. You clutch at his vest nervously, turning pink, as expected. 

The sight sparks a jittery energy, driven by impulse – flustered, though he’s not exactly aware of it – Luffy brings his forehead to bump against yours, oddly nuzzling so that your noses brush once or twice. “Just means I’m gonna try extra hard to make sure nobody takes you away from me again.” 

“I, uh…” Surprised by the means of affection, you sway, dizzied by the thrill. It takes a while to shake off the high, blinking slow. “Um… I-I’m– I missed you. Too, I-I mean.” 

Snickering, Luffy murmurs his next words lowly. “Told ya’ I was comin.” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m… Glad that you found me.” Fighting the urge to squirm, your next admittance is shy; more-so vulnerable, voice lowering to match his as your gaze trails down to his collar, avoiding his eyes. “...Was scared.” 

“I know.” Leaning away to face you properly, a thumb traces the damp skin on your jaw. He glances down at the bruises for a second, but doesn’t bring it up yet. “You did good, though. Hiding was really smart!” 

The praise has you skittish, avoiding his eyes for an altogether different reason. Still, you elaborate, as if seeking out more. “I, uh… Thought that maybe they wouldn’t find me, if I… Y’know.”

Glancing to the cupboard as you gesture towards it haphazardly, the boy giggles. “How’d you even get in there, anyways?” 

“I-It was harder without Sanji… Like, a lot harder.” Rosy-skinned, you raise your cuffed hands to showcase the reason why.

“Still did it though.” He says bluntly. “Hey, where’s Robin? I thought she’d be with you.” 

Your expression falls. This time, your sights stray, only it’s in combination with the guilt from earlier. 

“I was, for a while, but…” The string that belongs to his iconic straw hat finds your antsy fingers, beginning to fiddle. “She… Helped me escape.” 

Here ensues your retelling of events… Doubly counting as answers to most of Luffy’s questions (including the ones he hadn’t been able to ask yet – dying to know about everything that happened). Starting from when you first woke up on the train with Franky and Usopp, the captain can tell that as you progress some parts are harder to explain than others; your eyes welling up all over again when it came down to filling him in on what happened to Bones, then again when reciting all the things Robin had said to you prior to leaving the train. Unfortunately, against his optimism, you had been having a difficult time.

Luffy had thought there was a high chance of it when they were chasing after you and the others, disgruntled over the possibility of your misery… Hearing you confirm that he was correct was irksome, only because he had no involvement or control to stop it from happening. Sure, he could repair the damage now… He could reassure you that Bones might still be alive, could comfort you over the ‘relived experience’ of Robin’s extensive belittlement… Except the damage was done, and the captain couldn’t patch all of it up as well as he could’ve had he been there alongside you. 

Additionally, standing there in the disheveled air-particles of the dusty room, Luffy had more than enough time to observe the physical damage as he listened and held you together. Mentally, you were disheveled – yet there was also the gash on your leg – the dull pounding within your skull – the swollen, green-grey discoloration painted over your chin. Looking at that last one was especially vexing. Whatever had happened, a simple fall usually wouldn’t cause an injury like that, at least in his experience. It had to have come from someone else. 

Aggravating. But, at least he was here now. 

You’re finishing up on filling him in, so Luffy’s impulse takes over. Fingers come to splay over the side of your neck, and your voice dies when a thumb presses below your jaw. 

He’s careful, tilting your chin just enough to make out the damage for himself. Not that he was a doctor, he just wanted to look at it. 

Lips pursing, swallowing hard, you allow him to do so without question. 

“What happened?” Straight to the point, the captain holds your face there for a second, returning attention to your eyes as he probes for an answer. 

With your own hand sliding up the arm that keeps you still, the boy can see your brain working through the details; hearing anger in his tone, then determining it’s not directed at you. 

“Um… That’s from Rachel, she uh… She tackled me, I think, and I hit it against the floor.” 

“Rachel? Who’s she?” 

“I-I told you about her before, the other night… The woman who yelled at me, remember?” 

“That’s who did this?”

You nod. “Mhm.” 

He sulks. “...She sucks.” 

Although at that, you smile a little. “She does.” 

Fleeting hands move from your bruised visage to find your arm instead, grasping it tight to rub at the inky words on your skin. Only when your eyes soften with the resulting soothe, does Luffy smile back at you. 

“You look kinda cool… But, I’m still gonna beat the crap outta her when I see her.” Appeased by his own response, Luffy moves onto the next topic of interest. “How’d you end up escaping then?” 

“Oh, right.” Having been cut-off before the final details of your explanation, you realize with a start that you have yet to complete your retelling. “Robin and Franky came up with an idea– Well, I guess it was mostly Franky, but…” 

“Wait, that jerk who beat up Usopp?” Astonished by the information, it’s clear the boy must’ve glossed over a few details from your earlier stories. “He helped you?” 

“I know, I thought it was weird too, but he’s actually…” You pause, searching for the right word – eventually tilting your head at the boy with a shrug. “I dunno… He’s really nice.” 

“Really? That’s weird…” Confusion scrunching his features, Luffy tilts his head back. “I guess I kinda’ owe him then, huh–” 

Out of nowhere, a man shouts from just outside the door.

“Search the area! They’ve gotta be around here somewhere–” 

At the noise, the boy sulks, face falling to a frown and closing his eyes. “Aw, man… Already? These guys don’t ever give up, do they…” 

You sigh, exhausted. “Tell me about it…” 

Groaning, Luffy slumps back over you, swerving to squish his cheek against yours, pulling you in by the waist to press against him. 

“But we only just found each other again…” Moping, he pulls apart, drooping like a scolded puppy. “No fair. This is so annoying…” 

You shrug, staying silent. Another groan. 

“Whatever… Fine, let’s go.” Reaching back to place his hat on his head, Luffy huffs, impatient with the whole scenario. “We gotta go save Robin from those doors… And I guess that Franky guy, too. C’mon,” 

Moving closer, Luffy turns around and bends his knees, lowering to the ground. It would be easiest to carry you piggy-back style, considering you couldn’t really move your hands anyway, and he needed his in order to navigate this stupid city. 

You had just one question, though. 

“By the way… Did you, like, change?” 

Referencing his wardrobe was not something he expected. “Uh… What are you talking about?” 

“Y-Your shorts. They’re black.” 

“Oh! Yeah, I did. All of us did on the train ride here. Why?” 

“I dunno… Just curious. I’ve never seen you wear black shorts before.” 

Luffy shrugs. “Never really thought about it, I guess. Nami chose ‘em.” 

“Oh…” 

You trail off, taking a step forward – then you stop again, noticing something. 

“Wait… Did you… Shove a bunch of meat in your pockets?” 

—

Tidbit Today!

The reason that the World Government assigned (Y/n) a bounty so soon was due to her existence being revealed to Bellamy – And in the process, to a certain man that Bellamy works for. 

This man may or may not have tipped off the government, spiteful towards the world as ever. 

“Um… Hey, Franky?” 

Avoidant of stepping on any of the cyborg's toes, the tepid question doesn’t go unnoticed. He hums curiously, raising an eyebrow. 

“How come you said all that stuff about Robin?” 

“Dammit– I can’t believe it! Now I’m all torn up… Nico Robin is said to be a cruel, inhuman, evil woman! But the truth is… She’s got a soft side for her friends!” 

Even with our unusual friendliness during conversation, I hadn’t been brave enough to bring up this particular topic until now. Still, I figured it was worth a shot, and I wanted to know; What had prompted Franky to label our archeologist so terribly? 

Be that as it may, we were closing in on the final few train-carts, so this had to be quick. There was a plan in motion, and Sniper King had already set off to set it in motion – pursuing Robin’s first steps of rescue whilst we faced the main adversaries head on. Sanji had chosen to stay back in order to fight one of them; another chef, who had a peculiar and disgusting method of making noodles. I grimaced to even think about it. 

“Hah?” Head tilted to meet my gaze, Franky’s eyebrows furrow. “What ‘stuff?’”

“Well, you just–” Fidgeting, I wrap my arms around my torso, shivering in the wind. The rain had lessened, yet it hadn’t gone entirely. “You said she was cruel… And that she was, like, evil.”

“Oh, that stuff. Right,” The cyborg averts his gaze, then. “Forgot I said that.” 

Put-off, a frown pinches the corners of my peeling lips. I tear off a piece of the loose skin, and turn away in kind. Why was he so dismissive about the topic? As far as I was concerned, Robin wasn’t any of those things. Not to mention he hadn’t actually answered the question. Did he still think those things?

“She’s not like that at all.” Defensive over the misjudgement of one of my closest friends, I stand firm. If Franky didn’t understand who she was, then he shouldn’t be a part of her rescue. “Robin’s never been cruel, or evil. She might tease us sometimes, but she’s not a bad person.” 

“Woah, don’t take it personally, Shrimp. Only reason I said all that stuff was because of what I’d been told by my master. I honestly wasn’t even sure she was still alive after all these years…” Voice lighthearted, Franky diverts the hostility, playing it off as if the topic doesn’t bother him. “Plus, I’ve never met her before, so how was I supposed to know? Being the only person in the world who can read a dead language isn’t exactly the greatest marker to have on your back, especially with what the government's after.” 

His last tidbit piques my interest. “What are they after?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“What? How am I supposed to not worry about it?” Nose wrinkling, I can’t help but feel a bit vexed. All of this was so confusing. I was already in the dark about a lot in regards to this world, so for me, connecting the dots just wasn’t feasible. “I don’t get any of this. Why does it matter if Robin can read the poneglyphs or not? If nobody else can read them, wouldn’t that make her more important?” 

“‘Course she’s important. She’s just not ‘important’ in the way that anybody’d wanna be.” The cyborg gruffs, not with annoyance. Rather his tone is very plain and simple.

All the same, I think he can tell I still don’t understand. 

“Alright… Hypothetically, let’s just say that maybe the government wants to use her ability in order to build a secret weapon. And let’s say that the blueprints for that weapon can only be translated by someone who understands an altogether unknown language. You pickin’ up what I’m putting down here?” 

A pause. I don’t look at him, scrutinizing the violet-gray void, the gears turning in my head. 

“...A weapon?” 

There’s something behind the ‘theoreticals’ that Franky is emphasizing. It drops heavy, and sullen – a consequential doom – like stones in a lake. 

‘Hypothetically’? ‘Let’s just say’? Those were the statements used when you were pitching an idea that didn’t exist, or creating a made-up example based on the facts regarding the situation. If that was the case, then why did he sound so forbidding? Why did it sound like his message was one of warning?

I was getting the idea, now. This supposed weapon wasn’t fictional, it was real – and Franky knew a lot more than he was letting on – because this weapon was something far beyond its title. Not a sword, a gun, or a cannon… Something more than that. 

“Like… What kind of weapon?” 

Franky’s response is equally as earnest as it is grim. “The kind that could destroy the world if it gets into the wrong hands.” 

“That’s…” I can’t find the words, the idea is something incomprehensible. The entire world? “Y-You’re joking.” 

“Nope.” Unscathed by the potential, life-threatening circumstances, Franky thwarts my accusation and stamps forwards – scarily calm. “That’s what I was told, at least.” 

“B-But, if it’s a secret weapon… Like that, then–” I stagger, feet slipping against the metal with a squeal, scarcely a step away from plummeting to the ocean. “How… How do you know about it?” 

For a fleeting moment, Franky says nothing. 

There’s something about the cyborg's stance; A slight shift in his gate, a barely-there lax of his broad shoulders… His mind had withdrawn, overtaken by introspection. 

Anxiety spikes, thoughts spiralling into endless possibilities. It’s like being left on read after sending a precarious text-message. There’s a tremble in my voice when I call his name to draw back his attention. 

“My old master, like I said.” Irritable, now. “It’s supposed to be a secret. Not even sure why I told you about it…”

Master. The title had been brought up before… Never a name, though. 

Was it a sore subject? Had I pried too much? Or, if it was a secret that Franky was supposed to keep, was he feeling guilty about revealing it to me so suddenly? If that was the case, I wasn’t sure why he’d said anything either. Had we really become so open with one another in such a short span of time? Perhaps we were more comfortable around each other than I thought… Franky had helped me forget about Ivory – well, helped me cope, at least.

“Whatever. Too late to take it back now.” Franky finalizes begrudgingly. 

In the end, that was more than he had to do. I could return the favor, then… I could keep a secret. 

“I… Won’t tell anyone.” Soft, now. And the rain joins in, It’s almost light against my skin, not so pinching and piercing. “Not if it’s important to you.” 

The waves are rushing hush that splatters against the sides of the train, though the leftover anger from the storm remains, the last echoes of it swaying beneath our feet. 

Neither of us speak for a minute, allowing us to ruminate, dwelling on the things left unsaid. Grave as the reveal was, Franky blatantly held no interest in stringing along mere scraps of conversation. I had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t want to reveal any more about the weapon anyways.

“Hey, Shrimp. I’ve got a question for you now.” 

Blinking, I peer up at the cyborg in expectation, curious as to what made him inevitably break his silence. “Um… Sure?” 

“Nico Robin I get. But why you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m askin’ what the government wants with you.” Franky elaborates, emphasizing his point by jabbing a thick finger into my shoulder, not aggressively, yet using enough force to slightly unbalance. “Whaddya’ got going on, that's got them so interested, anyway?” 

“O-Oh.” I regain my stride, recovering from his jab, but that isn’t the only reason for the shaky reply. 

It’s automatic, a blurted word that comes when I can’t find a response quick enough. And, really, how should I respond? I didn’t know the reason behind this whole scheme, neither did the crew. That meant everyone was in the dark on this one, especially since Franky seemed just as curious as the rest. 

“I…” With my speech strung out, there’s no better way to answer than with the truth. “Don’t really know? None of us do. I mean… I’m not even from here, so it doesn’t really make any sense why they want me, too.” 

An unsatisfied hum, then, “Right. Eyebrows-bro did mention that… Still doesn’t make sense to me, though. What kind of island are you from, anyways?”

“It’s not even an island,” Lost in thought, (and running on only so many hours of sleep), I find myself murmuring; drifting away from the conversation, spewing inward thoughts without recognition of who I’m currently talking to. “He was talking about the other world that I came from.” 

It wouldn’t be the first time I made this mistake, tonight.

“...The other what now?” 

Instantly, I choke. 

“U-Uh, I mean– The, um… Just– The other–” 

Any form of defense dies in my throat, as if I were a dysfunctioning robot. I take a long, deep breath. Trying to deny it after that was futile. 

Closing my eyes with a self-depreciating nod, I purse my lips. We were really laying it all out on the table today, huh? I almost wish the marines would find us. Would be pretty convenient rn, given that I was about to dig myself into a deeper hole – six-feet and no signs of stopping.

“Okay, listen… Uh,” With a shaky sigh, and trembling hands, I clasp them in front of my chest with a desperation that could rival that of a sinner. “I’m gonna tell you something, only because you told me your secret… A-And this is a really, really big secret– Which I’m not supposed to tell anybody. I mean, like ever.” Unsure of how to save the situation, the word-vomit is strong. “I-It’ll be like… A trade! Or something?”

Franky stands stock-still, shrugging to break from the stupor. “I mean, sure. Although I can’t lie, you’re freakin’ me out here.” 

Sucking the air through my teeth, a nervous laugh dwindles off into a pained, breathless mutter; “Yeah… You have no idea.”

In the near distance, a weasel-like man waits patiently for his oncoming prey. Grinning maniacally to himself, he can see the two figures, the larger one abruptly slapping hands to the back of their head– 

“Wha-a-a-a-at?!”

Weasel-man (Nero)’s face drops, thrown by the sheer volume of the man’s apparently shocked revelations. 

“Was that what eyebrows-bro meant when he said you weren’t actually from here?! I figured he was just talkin’ about Water 7 or somethin– Not the entire world! What the hell?!”

The CP9 agent sighs, befuddled by what nonsense that the cyborg, his target, was spewing. Waiting up here was grating on his nerves. Whatever.

A step forwards, and the smile returns to his face. He would just have to greet them first, then. 

—

As it turns out, telling Franky all of my personal secrets wasn’t the worst thing that could happen today.

“Oh, shit…” It’s impossible to breathe, hence the words being shared in a tight-chested wheeze. And it’s all thanks to our supposed adversaries, some more familiar than I would prefer. 

Rob Lucci – Kaku – Kalifa – Rachel – and a man with bull-horns, who I didn’t recognize. Needless to say, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where the stranger's loyalty lied. It was given away by one shared feature; their callous, unforgiving stares. 

That sense of dread and wrongness, the menacing aura that had slipped when no one else noticed, was back in full force. It had been concealed earlier when I’d inadvertently caught a glimpse, seeing a hint of the true nature behind the shining members of Galley-La. It wasn’t like that anymore. They weren’t a part of that company, now – had left the workforce and discarded their disguise so that their true nature would show through. 

Naturally that must mean that they’re the government's secret service members – Cipher Pol 9 – the same ones that Nami had told us about over the phone. 

Skin crawling, it’s as if their eyes intend to render the flesh from my bones. The air around us feels like a clenched fist, malevolence uncanny. Looking at them now, unbound by their ruse, I could see they weren't necessarily mechanical, or predatory, as I’d labeled them previously. They were all that, and worse – soulless, sociopathic – bearing pure indifference to our existence, as if this interaction was merely wasted energy. Nothing truly mattered to them at this moment. 

There isn’t a single trace of fear. There’s no alarm. They turn their sights on us, and the lack of any light within those empty pits is a message on its own. 

There would be no mercy here. They weren’t capable of doing us that kindness.

I’d dropped in behind Franky after the battle he’d held with one of their other members, keeping to the sidelines as I watched it unfold. It would’ve been nonsensical to intervene, and everything had worked out in the end. The cyborg’s final attack smashed both of them through the ceiling, and I didn’t want to be left all alone for fear of being cast into the ocean some way, somehow. Floored by the tension in the room, hindsight was twenty-twenty. I should have looked prior to jumping in blindly. 

Sanji joined us as well, having defeated the strange ramen-chef moments before we’d shown up. As I mentioned before, Sniper King was off on a side-mission, however if he was here, he probably would’ve taken one look and ran for the hills. I was honestly impressed that the two men beside me were able to hold the gazes of these monsters, since holding eye-contact just wasn’t feasible on my end. 

On the bright side, at least I knew my instincts were right. These fuckers weren’t the good guys after all. They were the ones behind the kidnapping schemes. It was a real shame that I couldn’t muster up the self-gratification. Rachel – glowering at me as if she were about to rip me apart with only her teeth – was making it hard to feel good about anything right now. 

The soft ruffling of Lucci’s coat, his leg brushing against the fabric, is the first sign of movement from anyone in the room. I hold my breath, sliding back a step in response. My friends don’t budge.

Sanji’s smoke dissipates into the stagnant air, watching as Lucci carelessly disposes of the ramen-chef’s listless form, kicking the stout man aside without so much as a second glance. Apparently, he was in the way. 

It’s ruthless. All we can do is watch as he approaches the next poor soul who’d dared to cross paths, unintentional or not. I guessed that the boys hadn’t bothered intervening since it wasn’t their fight – our enemies were fighting amongst themselves (a mostly one-sided battle, given Lucci ruled the room). 

“Dammit… Y-You’re in for it now, you bastard! People call me a fighting genius!” Franky’s opponent – I’m unsure of what his name was (Nero) – has no idea what’s in store for him. 

From what I’d overheard during the previous battle, the weasel-like man had boasted about proving himself worthy as the newest member of the prestigious group, CP9. To me, he seemed to be all ego; Not even remotely close to his peers in terms of strength, having witnessed them in action whilst going after Luffy. He’s oblivious to the imminent danger, too focused on swearing one last promise to Franky for having beaten him to a pulp… Bloody, and resentful of it. 

“I don’t care anymore… I’m gonna kill you!” 

A careless mistake. 

“Hey, newbie.” 

Shocked, the newbie spares a glance towards his approaching superior, then looks down at the floor with a smug grin. 

“Ah, let me guess…” Playing it off far too coolly for a man smothered in his own blood, weasel-man catches his breath. “You must be Rob Lucci, right? Sorry that I didn’t introduce myself sooner. Please wait a moment… I’ll kill him first, and–” 

“Our orders were to bring him in alive.” The loathing in Lucci’s words is precise, without leniency. “To think you let your feelings take control and lost sight of our mission… Well, forget it.” 

In the corner of my eye I catch dirty-blonde hair and tanned skin shifting her weight. The first sign of movement from any of the rest, but I don’t dare to stray my sights from where they currently lie. Rob Lucci’s eyes have a slight glint in them, now – murderous intent swimming in the whites like a shoal of piranha’s. 

“I’ll give you three seconds.” Tilting his head, the CP9 agent zeroes in on the unfortunate receiver. There’s no sentiment in the newbie being a member or not, because in Lucci’s eyes, he’d already been demoted. “So hurry up and run.” 

Gazing up at the other, horror flashes across the newbie’s face. 

“Three…” 

“Run? From whom?” Panic is swift to overtake the injured man’s senses, inadvertently wasting his time with useless questions. 

“Two…” 

My heart rate speeds, though I’m not sure why – it wasn’t like I was the one under threat, but just being in the vicinity felt as if it were the complete opposite. The fierce pump-pump in my chest ramps higher as a witness to the brutality of what comes next. 

“W-What…? Hey– You’re kidding, right? This isn’t–” 

“One.”

It happens fast. 

One moment the newbie is pleading, screaming in disagreement. The next, he’s vanished into thin air.

I can’t keep up with what’s occurred until the moment he’s reappeared a few steps forward, blood spewing from his back. The pained-gasp that pushes from his throat has me reeling backwards– 

And from behind, Lucci appears, his finger speared through the other's spine, an attack to his upper-cervical vertebrae; The kind of injury that’s almost always lethal upon delivery. 

The newbie falls to the floor like a sack of rocks. Dead. 

“A person like you who does everything halfway is unfit for CP9. You’re nothing more than an incompetent piece of trash.” Degrading the corpse before him, there’s no grace to share in his colleague's demise. “Don’t make me laugh.” 

Hauled up from the floor by the collar, there’s no response, no sign of cognitive function. The once-newbie’s eyes are rolled back, body limp – and when Lucci lifts him from the fresh pool of blood, crimson drips like ink from lifeless fingers – arms swinging in a loose, spine-chilling motion. 

The deceased body is discarded, smashing through one of the small windows with a gut-wrenching shatter, legs catching any remaining shards on the way out. With a resonating splash comes a foreboding realization, casting an even darker possibility over the scenario; 

As a devil-fruit user, if that man wasn’t dead yet, then he would be soon – Altogether murdered, regardless, by one of his own. 

We needed to get out of here, pronto. There had to be another way to save Robin… Something that wouldn’t involve all of us dying in similar fashion. Why didn’t Franky and Sanji look more concerned? Were they not even a little bit scared? 

“Kalifa.” Lucci summons, 

And the woman answers without missing a beat, “Yes.” 

“On our official report, state that the newbie was so weak that he was useless.” 

My nails bite into my palms. 

“Understood.” 

Walking back to the same exact spot as when we arrived, Lucci appears just as unbothered as before – almost bored. 

The others don’t even bat an eye. Either they agreed with his ideals, or they were simply used to the occurrence… Didn’t they realize that this man could choose to turn on them at any moment? Probably. There wasn’t any union in this team. They weren’t friends, despite having played as them in Galley-La Company. It was all an act. All business. 

“These guys are supposed to be working for justice?” No holds barred, Sanji’s judgement is valid, it’s only nervewracking in that he’s so bold saying it aloud. 

“Can’t tell which side is evil, huh?” Franky agrees, stretching out his arms in preparation for what was to come. 

The irrational part of me refused to make any noise at all, frightened at the prospect that one measly sound would set them off like dogs, and all hell would break loose. At least we were all on the same page that this was a group of horrible people. 

“I suppose there’s no need to ask why you’re here, intruder.” Lucci addresses Sanji, as Franky and I were both hostages, apparently. The total was steadily climbing. “Given the way you opened the door, it doesn’t seem like you have a lot of patience.”

“Yeah, excuse my manners. I’m ill-bred, so…” Syllables doused in sarcasm, the chef isn’t keen on the subtle insult. 

“If this is about Nico Robin…” The CP9 agent picks up on the situation quickly, “Give it up.” 

“Oh?” Sanji bets, Franky giving an equally inquisitive hum – though I think the cyborg is more confused than the chef. 

“This is too big of an issue for you to get yourselves involved in. It’s beyond your comprehension. There are people in the world who were born under an unlucky star. People who are…” He pauses, deliberating. “Better off dead, for everyone else’s sake.”

That pulls a chord. I can feel the irritation radiating off of Sanji; You could detect it with a geiger meter, if you tried. “What are you talking about?” 

“For example, suppose there exists a sleeping devil that would burn the world to the ground. If the person who can raise this devil is an innocent girl who’s only eight years old… Don’t you think that someone should kill this girl for everyone’s sake?” 

…What the actual fuck was this man on? He wasn’t making any sense. Was he talking about Robin? But, Robin is like, twenty-eight or something… What did an eight year old have to do with–

“Stop rambling and get to the point.” Sanji’s reply is clipped, tense with animosity. 

“What I’m telling you is the true story of Nico Robin’s life. Her very first transgression, and now she’s accumulated an entire life of crime. Ever since she can remember, her existence itself was a sin. The only good she can do for this world is by disappearing forever. It’s a curse, the misfortune she carries. Essentially, she should’ve died twenty years ago. We’re merely correcting a wrong from the past.” 

It’s quiet for a minute, allowing for the revelation to sink into our clammy skin. 

Was this what Franky meant about all those things he’d mentioned before? About why the government wanted her? So, then… Why was Lucci speaking about the matter as if the woman was already dead, merely walking straight into her grave? 

And then… If what he was saying was true, had Robin been wanted for that long? Since she was eight years old? That’s barbaric, worse than anything I could’ve imagined. To be so young– Chased around your whole life, and for what? 

For such a stupid reason as knowing a language, of all things. These people were immoral.

Perhaps the most gut-wrenching piece of the puzzle is that this entire event had been foreshadowed by our run-in with Aokiji. We knew something was up with our archeologist and the government, we just didn’t know what it was. I mean, we still didn’t really know what was going on. If we had, could we have put a stop to all this? Avoided the danger entirely to keep Robin safe, keeping our little found family whole? 

Lucci was too vague, intentionally open about his distaste for such a stain on the marines' perfectly-clean slate. The admiral had been cryptic, yes – In comparison to this guy, though? Aokiji was a saint. 

“I’m really glad,” A dramatic pause, then Lucci voices his final opinion on the matter, “That this woman will be put to death.”

Hitting the brink, Sanji is the first to move. He dashes forwards, acting on the emotions that we all shared. To him, it’s more personal; Nobody could talk about ladies like that, much less a lady that he cherished every moment of every day. 

“That’s enough of your crap!” 

Once the chef is within striking distance, he veers back, standing on one leg to swipe the other towards Lucci’s face. 

Thwack!

The collision is substantial, even if all Lucci had done was raise his forearm to block. 

“You son of a bitch–” Bellowing towards his opponent in outrage, Sanji’s vehemence is notable, struggling to force the words out through clenched teeth. “Don’t say anymore!” 

Lucci disregards, and continues anyways. “However, the government will probably spend years squeezing out all of Nico Robin’s knowledge, experience and intelligence. How much agony she’ll experience before she dies, you just watch and–” 

“We’re not gonna let that happen!” 

He’s poking at Sanji now, prodding the notions he knows will garner results; the method is clearly working in his favor, too. Ragebait or not, it doesn’t make his claims any less disturbing, sliding beneath my skin in reminder of the frequent concerns I’d been harboring through the night. 

To say all that without flinching, to stay staring down his nose at us with such disgust… Lucci must’ve been speaking the truth. If we didn’t get Robin to safety, then there wouldn’t be any escape, and she would be condemned to the only thing on this earth that was closest to damnation.

What would they do, if not just kill her? What lengths would they go through in order to get what they wanted? What had they already done? 

We need to find her soon, and get out of this somehow. 

Somehow. That was the issue we had to figure out. 

A commotion starts from the first and final train cart, attracting everyone’s attention at once, and I’m pulled from any means of formulating an escape. 

Through the door there’s a fretful, desperate voice, begging for someone to listen to them– to not leave the room. It’s impossible to determine who exactly is speaking from the complete opposite side of what’s occurring, although I have a general idea when the voice reaches a grainy, shrill pitch. 

Everyone awaits the grand appearance in silence – inevitably, the door opens. 

I immediately feel my shoulders slacken. Lo-and-behold, it’s Robin herself that’s on the other side of the door (plus Usopp, who’s clinging to her arm in an attempt to hold her at bay). That solves one half of the problem. 

“Robin!” Sanji gasps, elated. 

“So, that’s Nico Robin, huh?” Franky observes plainly, “I’d buy that. She looks like the girl on the wanted poster, that’s for sure.” 

I’m nearly able to call out to her myself, eager to get the hell out of dodge – she beats me to the punch, eyebrows bent while frowning in apparent frustration. Using her devil fruit, arms sprout all along Usopp’s back and shoulders, and within seconds he’s being tossed to our half of the room. None of us expect it, myself having to sidestep into a row of seats whilst Sanji leaps backwards, away from the oncoming collision. The sniper lands on his back, sliding along the floor about a foot or two, groaning in pain. 

“Robin, what–” Sanji stammers in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

Deactivating her devil fruit, stern blue eyes hold a biding lecture within.

“Even if I explain, you people just won’t get it, will you?” 

The three of us left standing are left too flabbergasted to respond. Her manner of speaking is scornful, downright rude. 

Why did she look so angry? Wasn’t she scared? Didn’t she know what was coming? She must’ve, Robin was incredibly intelligent – I’m certain she would’ve known about her fate with The Gates of Justice from the moment she heard it spoken aloud – she knew what was in store for her. Then, why didn’t she want to come with us? I understood the want to protect us as her friends, fine. But… To face torture? And then viciously turn us down at the simple fact that we had shown up to save her? 

With the only noise being that of the train chugga-chugging with its steady pace, Lucci’s diabolical laughter fills the room, taking up the spotlight with ease. He cackles like he’s already won – as if he’d gotten exactly what he wanted without even trying. The twist in his lips morphed his giddiness to something else entirely… Genuine insanity, at best. 

A flash of red blocks my vision, and I no longer have to gaze at Lucci’s abnormal countenance. 

It’s Uso– Sniper King, rising from the ground with all the flair of a superhero, waving his cape for dramatic effect. He points to Franky determinedly, and from there, delivers a series of flummoxing commands:

“Franky, detach the third car!” 

“Hah? Why, what’re we gonna do?” 

“We’re gonna run!” 

If I was a dog, my ears would’ve popped up on my head. Finally, there's a plan I’d like to try. 

Rob Lucci scoffs in amusement, wild grin ever present. The others of his group seem to grow more alert at the announcement of an escape plan, pupils sharpened and standing at the ready. 

“We’re gonna run?” Gesturing outwards in perplexity, Franky pushes for an answer. 

As does Sanji. “What the heck are you talkin’ about?” 

I take a deep, steady breath. My palms were sweating, same as everywhere else. Whatever Usopp was about to do, it was going to wreak complete havoc. Was I ready for that? No. But I never was. 

“You too, Sanji!” The demand is left unmet, for now; However, Sniper King stands tall. “Get ready. This will all be over in a flash!” 

“Don’t let Franky get away.” Kaku points towards the large man with horns, aiming to ruin our game plan by any means necessary.

“Sniper King…”

Reaching into his satchel slowly with a slow murmuring of his own name, a small sphere is pulled from its contents. My muscles tense, I see Rachel shift again in my periphery–

“Smoke star!” 

POOMF–

The whole room erupts into a pinkish cloud as the tiny smoke-bomb in Usopp’s hand breaks open upon the ground. It does the trick, too; Soon enough, a cacophony of wheezing breaths and hacking lungs run rampant through the train cart. There’s no need to tell me once, nevermind twice. I turn on my heel, an addictive, terrifying mixture of thrill and adrenaline pumping me toward the third train cart, as instructed. 

Briefly, I register that I’m running blind. A slam of my hip onto one of the chairs serves as the perfect opportunity to remind me of this, and I groan under my breath, feeling the skin bruise by the millisecond. Sanji hears it, calling out my name urgently. That’s my cue to move.

Having lost some of the acceleration in my movements due to the small setback, it takes me a few steps to come back to speed. Around me, the smoke is beginning to dissipate. I can see the top of Franky’s bright blue hair, we make eye-contact with each other, and his face lights up before–

–suddenly, the ground is rushing up to meet me. 

Crck!

There’s a pressure at first, then, searing pain – my chin finding the ground before the rest of my body does. 

Jaw aching, teeth bitten down too hard, rattling– Little white dots dance in my vision as copper floods my tastebuds, and a momentary alarm finds its way through my jumbled senses. Had I bitten my tongue? 

Tears prick, and eyes burn; the stiffness of my jaws-joints has me scared, wondering if it’s been dislocated. After a few moments, I realize I’ve stopped breathing, the wind knocked out of me. Gasping, remembering that I can breathe, I writhe against the hands holding me by the nape and skull. 

“Did you seriously think you were going somewhere?” 

Arrogance, condescendance, mocking… I could pinpoint that voice anywhere. Kneeling at my back, Rachel shifts more of her weight onto the ridge of my spine. An agonized moan strains forth, chest crushed, ribs compressed between herself and the floorboards. She’s got me pinned, and the message was obvious; I wasn’t going anywhere. 

The blood tastes bitter in my mouth. A broken sob-morphed-snarl rips from my throat as the tears spill over. Shame forms an ugly combination with anger. 

“Well, you did escape… But then ran right back into our hands. Just another reason to prove how you don’t deserve what you’ve got.”

Most of the haze has faded now, allowing me to glare up at her leering smirk through teary, hate-filled eyes. 

Self-satisfied, Rachel leans back, granting me a small amount of room to breathe, just enough so that every breath isn’t a complete struggle. Naturally, I use it very wisely, speaking for the very first time since our arrival into the train cart. 

“...I-I already told you… To go fuck yourse–” And I choke. 

“Watch it, you little shit.” Leaning forwards again, Rachel growls, almost animal-like. “I could crush you right now, like the little insect you are.” 

“(Y/n)!” 

The first one to realize I’m not amongst the rest is Sanji, unsurprisingly. While his hysterical screams lessen the further they manage to get, joined shortly by Usopp and Franky, Lucci walks to Rachel’s side. 

There’s a pause. Rachel’s fingers clench around my neck, nails digging into the skin like claws. I take it to mean she’s just as scared of him as anyone else.

Nerves alight, my muscles tighten, awaiting some horrible punishment for escaping – for him to push his finger into my back and pull the plug… Except it never happens. 

“Good work.” 

Apparently, it’s not me that he’s concerned with. 

Rachel’s hold weakens, arm twitching. As I feel her body sway into something statuesque, I can breathe smoothly once more, and inwardly question if she’s holding her breath, this time. 

Glancing up, the woman is staring down at me, wide-eyed. There’s a gratified, glossy sheen coating her sights. I’d say she was almost misty-eyed, if not for the wide, maddened smile splitting her face. 

My heart sinks. The expression is undeniably akin to Lucci’s expression from earlier, standing beside her now – and both of them are burning holes into my skin. 

“I hope we’ve fulfilled your expectations, (L/n) (Y/n).” For the first time, Rob Lucci is speaking to me directly. He must be referring to my early observations – about how I managed to pinpoint their true nature before anybody else could. That’s not what the man is really saying, though.

You’re finished.

Listening to the stark cries of my name echoing from afar, weakening as my friends on the detached section of the train trail further and further away, I clench my eyes tight and grit my teeth. 

I really hope Luffy is making good on his promise. 

—

Tidbit Today!

You’ve probably noticed that (Y/n) swears a lot during moments of intense anxiety, or anger. 

This is actually something she developed from growing up in NYC! They can have quite the colorful vocabulary, so you could say it rubbed off on her over time. 

“Hey, by the way… Did you see Ivory at all? Like, in the city, or something?” 

The question pops into existence as soon as it forms in my head – I was ready to face anything, bouncing off the walls – energy sparked and spirits lifted via the newfound positivity of Usopp joining us–

Sorry, wait. Not Usopp: 

Sniper King.

Banking on the good vibes that were flowing, whilst simultaneously trying not to be too ambitious (and failing), it’s difficult to manage the conflict of exhaustion and vigor. Both are at war in my physical and mental being. “H-He’s been lost for a while, and I just… I’m really worried.” 

Sanji looks at me in surprise, and there’s a concerning glint of confusion that passes over his gaze. Like a flower deprived of its nutrients, I feel myself droop. 

“Can’t say I have, no. I’m sorry.” Shaking his head pitifully, he offers a hand so that I can easily step along the slickened metal tiles beneath our feet. “But I’m sure he’ll show up at some point. That feline’s a lot stronger than he looks…” 

Lifting my weary gaze from Sanji’s sympathetic expression, I’m not exactly sure on how to respond. I knew that the chance was unlikely… Didn’t make it any easier to swallow. I was really hoping that at least one person out of our six-man crew would’ve spotted him. “I mean… I guess no news is probably good news. Right? He’s… Probably okay.” 

Behind my back, Sniper King freezes on the spot. Having been softly singing his theme song to nobody aside from himself, it’s as if he’s been slowed by Foxy’s slow-mo-photons; rigid, barring himself from movement mid-step. After all, he had completely forgotten about that little detail given everything that has been going on… 

Y’know, that little tidbit about how Ivory was on the Going Merry – and how the Going Merry was likely at the bottom of the damn ocean. 

Clearly, this is a whole new dilemma. Does he say something? Does he not? 

Usopp, donned in his disguise, sweats beneath the mask in trepidation. Would he face further ridicule if he admitted what had happened? Would it just give you another reason to hate him more, given that he hadn’t told you sooner? It took a lot of courage to put on the mask in order to face you and Sanji after all that stuff he’d said, even if it was for the right cause. 

He’s not sure what to do. He didn’t mean to lose the kitten, it had just sort of happened. 

Even so, this was Ivory, and Ivory was basically your baby–

“Alright, Shrimp… There's something I gotta tell you.” 

Not to worry. The truth would come to light one way or another. 

Grave-faced – once again forced to speak in place of the sniper who’d been too cowardly to do so – Franky steps forwards. 

“But full-warning here, alright? Cus’ it’s nothin’ good.”  

—

“It’s not possible to board the Puffing Tom while it’s running.” 

You can practically taste it in the air like… Sour, and acrid; A bouquet such as that of rotting fruit.

Dissatisfaction. 

And in this stupid, stuffy train cart, Rob Lucci’s disapproval is palpable.

“If there really is an intruder, it means that we let him come on board when we departed.” Calm as he may sound to the untrained ear, everyone in the vicinity was aware of their leader's sudden discomposure – subtle, but dangerous, just like the beast shrouded beneath his skin. “What an embarrassment."

Resisting the urge to shudder, barring any sign of weakness, Rachel notes the harsh undertone laced through Lucci’s words. He wasn’t happy – then again, he never was easy to please. 

All other members of CP9 stared down at the floorboards without a word, none daring to speak. It wasn’t easy to meet their leader's eye whenever he’d donned this worsened mood. Plus, this mission had been tedious enough with the many years wasted on Water 7, disguised as common-man – now this? How had this slipped by them? As much as she disliked the tenacious aura clouding her senses, she understood where he was coming from. 

Not like it mattered, of course. Rachel fully expected the blame to be placed on her shoulders. 

“I agree sir, it’s inexcusable.” 

The same government official hosting their departure to Enies Lobby stood in front of CP9’s leader, knees threatening to buckle while he kisses-ass. Rachel wants to scoff, biting down on her own teeth and breathing steadily through her nose, glaring at the rugged man. Served him right to be afraid. She could smell his cowardice; a whiff, smothered by Lucci’s malice. 

Most of these men weren’t worth their salt – All that brawn and bravery displayed and flaunted to those of lesser positions – broken down in seconds when faced with a real government threat. They were just a facade for the secrets that unfolded behind the scenes… A placeholder so nobody discovered what was actually at play, and they didn’t even realize it themselves. Yet, here she was, working for them. 

It was both infuriating and laughable. After everything she’d suffered to get here – rigorous training to fight, to lie, to act, to endure – forced to squeeze out from the inside the government's clenched-fist – Rachel would never get the chance to escape all these carbon-copied goons who valued themselves higher than anything else in the world. Maybe even the world itself, and not a single one of them was deserving of it. 

No, not working for them. Her throat dries in remembrance. She was one of them. There wasn’t much of a difference anymore. 

“But, if you can’t get on while the train is moving, then you can’t get off, either.” Monotonous as a machine, Lucci looks on the brighter side of things. “That means the intruder, as well as the missing criminals, are certainly still on this sea train. Keep calm and look for them.” 

Missing criminals. Rachel withholds the snarl that rolls up her throat, knocking at the back of her teeth. Nose wrinkling, her eyes trace after the grungy official who finally takes his leave. That meant it was only a matter of time before–

“Did I not warn you that your carelessness would result in this kind of error?” 

There it was… The scolding that awaited her supposed mistakes. 

Sensing his eyes probing into the side of her face, Rachel Wieser never returns Rob Lucci’s relentless stare. The scalding heat of embarrassment burns in the pit of her belly, chest tense as the woman resists the urge to turn further away in order to hide her shame. 

Why did he always look at her like that? 

Lucci wound up being correct, as per usual; keeping you with those two mongrels in the latter train carts was a bad move, and they were paying for it now. Apparently, you had escaped alongside them. 

Fucking brat… There would be hell to pay once Rachel got her hands on you again. 

“I’ll let it slide, for now. We will let the trainee handle it in the meantime. If he fails, we’ll know he wasn’t suited for his role.” At the lack of response, Lucci continues, altogether disinterested as his sights part from her face. “However, I expect you to deal with it if he fails. Make use of yourself and improve upon your mistakes. Properly, this time.” 

There’s a warning there, hidden between all his fancy words and husky baritone. Obey the order. 

Rachel doesn’t bother trying to defend herself. 

Degraded time and time again by the man’s words, and he would never know how harshly it always affected her. She was too well-trained to display her emotions as anything other than calm, cool and collected, like a well-bred showdog. Inwardly, her heart was screaming in frustration. Nothing would ever be enough for him, would it? There was always something wrong with her… The ceaseless nitpicking had grown exhausting. The woman was tired of always being so useless to him. One day, all Rachel wanted was for him to look at her without that constant gleam of hatred in those steely blues, ever-present and ruthless.

Tears pricked, and eyes burned. Her eyes don’t stray from the watery trails that trickle down the nearest window, pretending that the lines cascading down the glass are the tears she’s unable to shed. If the woman cried now, it would only make everything worse; 

Because, in the end, that man would never, ever care enough to wipe them away. 

—

He was dead. 

Dumped straight into the merciless ocean, boarded on a boat that had lasted far beyond its expiration date, there was no other way to cut it… Ivory was gone. Departed. Deceased.

Boats weren’t meant to travel during Aqua Laguna’s torrential massacre. The Going Merry, no matter how strongly she might’ve managed to keep herself in one piece, was practically set out on a silver platter for the storm. And my kitty had been on board all the while, with no one there to help him– Nobody could save him from his watery grave in the cold, grueling end. 

And now… He was dead.

Slumped over Franky’s broad shoulder, I feel his large hand – complete with a palm akin to that of a bears-paw – pat against my back, about as consoling as it is awkward. I’m sure the man hadn’t expected to be in this position; soothing the mopey, wholly-depressed seventeen-year-old girl who he’d, until just recently, claimed to be his enemy. Granted, his comfortability wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind, right now. I wasn’t completely certain on how I’d gotten into this position in the first place. 

We’ve been going through the motions of forming a game plan, trudging along the tops of the train carts. I say ‘we’ lightly, though. Most of the time I’ve just been crying, sniffling into Franky’s overly colorful tropical t-shirt whilst the men discuss our next steps; Luring the marines towards the last two capsules of the sea-train, before detaching said capsules and eliminating a fair amount of their forces from the picture. This in mind, our chances in finding Robin and saving her might be slightly easier. 

I, being completely oblivious to everything occurring, had no idea how we’d do this. Honestly, I was ready to give up on everything and just jump into the ocean. Maybe then I could find my kitty. 

Ivory…

Another hiccup, and the cyborg sighs. 

“Sorry, Shrimp…” Franky laments having to bear the truth, knowing that you’re being torn up on the inside given your onslaught of emotion. Almost as soon as he’d told you about that old ship being dropped into the gnashing teeth of Aqua Laguna, the waterworks came pouring out like no tomorrow. “But, I can’t see there being any way that cat survived.”

Immediately your shoulders tremble, and Franky can feel your fingers twist his shirt into damp fistfulls of cloth. Whoops. 

“Ah, crap… My bad. That probably wasn’t the best way to say that, huh?”

Defensive of your emotional turmoil – renounced from his position of ‘protector’ – the chef whips around with a fire in his eyes, the lit-end of his cigarette searing with ruby-red embers. “Quit rubbing it in, you big moron! Don’t make her more upset than she already is!”

Regarding his strange sentiment, Franky feels his guard raise in return – the cyborg did feel bad, but he didn’t have much experience in the field of comforting extra-sensitive teenage girls. 

“Hey, cut me some slack here– I’m just tellin’ it as it is! Whaddya want me to do? Lie and pretend it didn’t happen so she can just find out the truth later?! That would be super rude of me, eyebrows-bro!” 

Usopp was quiet throughout the majority of my mourning. Nevertheless, when he did speak, he stayed in character. Not once had he relayed an apology, and the grief of loss was masked by… Well, a mask. 

His guilt was deafening, and he permitted it to keep screaming – A worthy punishment made in accordance to his flaws. 

“It should be me comforting her, not you!” Currently sobbing on his knees, Sanji wails into the sky in a full-blow ‘why cruel world’ pose, ever so intense in all matters regarding the female members of the crew. “How could my angel choose you over me?!” 

Put-off by the odd display (Like… Angel? Weren’t you Straw Hat’s soulmate?) the cyborg doesn’t obscure his confusion. What was with this chef-guy and his obsession with women? Franky would never object to a woman's company if given the opportunity… However, this guy? He took it to a whole other level entirely. 

“It should’ve been me!”

“Whatever…” Huffing exasperatedly, Franky hops over to the next train cart. Grumbling under his breath, his discomfort is blatant. “Listen, not that I’m blamin’ you for being upset or anything, and I’m not rushin’ you either, but how much longer you think you’re gonna cry? I didn’t sign up to help you guys just to act as some kinda chauffeur.” 

Remaining unresponsive for a moment – my dread dog-piled by disgrace, soul shriveling into a raisin – I know that I can’t stay this way forever, as much as I want to wallow in my own self-pity, or succumb to emptiness. 

Honestly, it was probably fair that he asked. I wasn’t even sure how long we’d been traveling like this… Though, It wasn’t like I was ungrateful to the man. It was just… Mind-boggling, and that’s on top of all the other bullshit from today. I mean, if we haven’t gotten past the whole ‘enemies’ thing at this point, I would be shocked. Not once… Not twice… Yet three times I had cried in front of Franky (in the last twelve hours, no less) and each time he’d been immensely supportive in spite of us being complete strangers/lowkey enemies.

At the time, given my options – Sanji, who was a tad overzealous in his excitement to comfort me, and Usopp, who barely glanced in my direction – I guess it wasn’t that strange to seek out the cyborg instead. Like I said, he’d been the most affirmative, considerate person after the multitude of hardships… Maybe in my soulless, incomprehensible state, I just sought him out without really thinking about it. Who can say? I wasn’t really all there.

“M’sorry…” With a low croak, I pull away from Franky’s shoulder. Given his gargantuan frame, I’d been sitting side-saddle on a barreled-bicep, hugging around his neck. “I just… I can’t– I-I can’t believe he’s gone…” 

Inconsolable – hiccupping yet again as I’m lowered back to the ground – my throat tightens, nose blocked up with ever-driveling snot. 

Lightning ka-racks into existence somewhere far off. It’s muffled. The rain pelts my skin, and it translates as nothing more than a prickle. Ivory was out in this? All by himself, on a sinking ship? 

I don’t want to move. I don’t want to do any of this anymore. 

“And I… I-I didn’t– I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” Breathing shallow, voice quaking, I can’t sense the cold, although my fingers are shaking uncontrollably. A forlorn wail surfaces, “He must’ve been– He was probably so scared–”

“Awe, c’mon!” And Franky grimaces, lips downturned in shared sorrow – though he sounds enraged. “If you keep cryin’ like that, you’re gonna make me cry– We don’t have time for that right now!” 

Despite his claims, the man’s voice strains – choked out like the muscles in his neck have bunched together, sticky, so the words click at the end of his sentence. 

“You didn’t have anything to do with it, anyways– None of what happened is your fault. Nothin’ you could’ve done about it, alright?” 

“I-I know, but–” I shakily swipe tears from my soaked face, riddled with rain water and salt. Every cell in my body swarmed behind my eyes, fueling utter despair. “He was just so little… N’ we only just got him– A-And for… For him to just die like that–” 

“Argh, okay, I get it– Quit it already!” 

Unable to resist the influence of your heartache, what follows is a watery distress; Franky’s tears flow like rivers from his shades, all wobbly lips and heartbreak. 

“Do you like torturing yourself or something?! This is too sad– I just can’t stand it! Poor little kitty, all alone and helpless–” 

Next, he’s drawn me into another hug, against my volition this time. Dwarfed by gargantuan limbs, cradled to his hairy chest, it felt like being swaddled by a mammoth. Infantile in my emotions, tears well up once again. Before I know it, both of us have taken up the crying-session. 

“...What a strange development!” Uso– I mean, Sniper King observes, his voice a replication of All Might’s from My Hero Academia; Heroic and brazen. 

Meanwhile, Sanji beats against the tin roof with his fist, agonized over the current happenings. 

“Anyways…” With a comically high-pitch, Franky sounds nothing like himself as he whimpers the words, parting ways whilst his fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose. “You gotta pull it together, Shrimp. We– We can’t be getting hung up on stuff like this! Otherwise we’re never going to be able to focus on saving Nico Robin… Mourning that cute little fluff-ball is gonna have to wait!” 

The cyborg clearly can’t follow his own advice – It’s in the way his shoulders tuck inwards, brooding whilst resisting the sob that builds, expanding in his chest. 

“She has to pull herself together?! You’re the one who sucks at comforting people!” Shouts Sanji, burning with hells’ fury. 

Bottom lip trembling, I clench my eyes shut, and take a deep, stuttering breath. My lungs ache after crying over the extended period, focusing on the fading warmth of my tears, progressively cooling as they combine with the raindrops that already soak my skin. 

It’s cold, and wet, just like the ice melting painfully inside of my chest cavity. Just like Ivory must’ve been when he– When…

Moving on felt impossible, stewed in regret and despair. I knew this would happen. I knew it… I’d been worrying about it since the moment he’d gone missing – That made the pain so much worse, having tried to prevent it and failing to do so. 

Failure after failure today. Now… Now I don't have a cat anymore…?

Pathetically, I wrap my arms around my torso, and shudder. I want Luffy. Where was Luffy? 

A large hand blankets my shoulders, shielding against the downpour that pierces the epidermis. “C’mon, Shrimp. We still have a ways to go.” 

Nodding, languishing in the hollowness deep inside, the void eats and eats – gnawing at my very cells, nibbling on the tissue, swallowing up my organs – licking its lips in satisfaction.

I’m tired.

Blow after blow – Knockout after knockout – just one thing after another, and another, and another–

It was getting more and more difficult to keep up. How did I even have more tears for this? How was I even still walking?

I know why. It feels like I’m walking outside of my own body; like every time I take a step forward, my soul lags behind, mimicking the exact movements… Only half a second after it’s been performed. There was no direct control, something ingrained. Instincts took the reins, practiced from day-to-day habits. Autopilot. 

No. More like dissociation. 

It didn’t happen often. Or… Maybe it did. When has this happened before? The first few steps have me questioning where we even were for a moment, so remembering anything else trivial wasn’t on the cards; There was only Ivory, and all the various depictions of his ultimate demise… Scrambling at the wood as it broke beneath him… Yowling in terror as his whole world fell apart… Little limbs flailing in the water, and then– 

When was the last time I saw him? A day ago? More than that? 

How much time had I spent with him then? 

I don’t know. When was the last time? Before I’d gone up to the roof with the others that night, with Luffy. It wasn’t intentional. I just kept getting dragged away, for this reason or that… I’d barely seen him, and now…

Had he missed me while I was gone for so long? Was that why he’d ran away in the first place? 

Those emerald eyes that lit up whenever I entered the room, expecting food, or scratches, or maybe even someone to play with… Everyone else had bonded with him, sure, yet Ivory’s care had fallen under my responsibilities, as I was the one who wanted him to join the crew in the first place. 

He was… My baby. We ate together, slept together – I spent almost every waking moment with him following me around – a flitting, white shadow. The kitten may have been growing more and more independent as he got older, mischievous enough to scope out other places in the ship, but he always came back to one person at the end of the day. Me. 

Late nights when I’d wake up from vicious nightmares, only to find Ivory, curled into my side as a purring, furry bundle of warmth – That mounting playfulness that showed clearer and clearer each day, forming a little menace who’d been closer and closer to stealing Luffy’s food on multiple occasions – Ivory could’ve been so much more. He was still young, figuring out his path. Now all of that potential, just… Subjected to an abrupt end? 

I should’ve taken better care of him. Maybe I should never have brought Ivory aboard in the first place. I should’ve left him on that island, far away from all this… From me. He could’ve lived his life to the fullest, probably. 

But… I tried.

This wasn’t fair. 

“Alright, don’t go all quiet on me, Shrimp.” A slight nudge to the side nearly sends me stumbling off the side of the train, like being dragged from the daze by the scruff of my neck, flailing to keep steady. The cyborg has enough goodness to save me from my aquaphobic-fears (something I myself am late to realize), snatching up an arm and steeling me into an upright position without any struggle. 

“You feelin’ better yet, or what?” 

I blink. An irritating sensation; My eyes had been rubbed raw. 

Feeling better? 

…How do I even feel right now? 

“I…” Whimpering hoarsely, I stare at the connection between us with uncertainty. 

There’s no effective way to manage the freshly-mounting sadness – eventually, I find my response. 

“N-No… I don’t… Think so.” Frowning doesn’t hold the tears at bay. 

Humming thoughtfully, Franky gives another purposeful nudge, and we’re tracing the others footsteps soon after. He’s taken up the role of mentor this time. Or, maybe therapist is a better title. 

“Yeah, I get it. It ain’t easy to brush off something like that. You’d have to be one cold-hearted monster to not be upset.”

The storm can’t smother out Franky’s booming syllables. The vibration of his voice alone causes the mottled rain to shy away – tone wisened for someone who was typically so unabashed. 

“Processing these things takes time.” The Cyborg says, matter of fact… He’s not wrong, either. “And I get how you feel, believe me. You can’t rush mourning, but if you really wanna save your friend, then you gotta find a way to push through that pain.”

I can’t muster a response. 

A twinge of disdain comes in tandem whilst swallowing down the spiny, indisputable truth in his spoken words. What else could be warranted, other than despondency? 

Sluggish, feet dragging at the metal beneath as if encased in slime, we kept a fair distance from the two men ahead. I didn’t want to listen to him, or anybody, for that matter. 

“...None of this is fair.”

“‘Course it’s not fair.” 

I flinch. Had I spoken that out loud?

“But that’s just the way things are. Gotta deal with it one way or another.” 

Like water off a duck’s back. Was it that easy? 

As infuriated as I could’ve been by the circumstance, his detachment was somewhat grounding– 

“If you let all of this drag you down, you won’t be able to help anyone right now.” 

–And the basis of logic is often stronger than the fickle nature of emotion. 

I can’t see his face, too focused on the droplets that splatter across the ground before us, blurring the soldered lines between metal plating. Gloom shields our footfalls from view, unless a spare strike of lightning chooses to make an appearance – the static allows for solid reasoning, thinking over the words with absurd, unforeseen clarity. 

A divide approaches, the separated cars held together by a single, thick cable. The only thing below was the tracks, and then the raging ocean. Falling into the wide crevice would ensure grave injury, if not death. 

With a grunt, Franky steps forward. He clears the gap easily, and I’m impressed that he managed to keep his balance with such a hulking figure. Expecting him to rely on my own ability to cross the crevice, my knees wobble, gradually increasing my awareness of our surroundings as I draw from my grim headspace. 

The train rattles at the racing speed, wheels clattering and squealing against the squirming rails. I can’t bring myself an inch closer, fearful that simply approaching the edge would warrant me to slip and plunge to my eternal doom. As the shivering in my fingers transitions to uncontrollable quaking, Franky thrusts a hand forward. 

A pause. I stare at his hand, perplexed, flickering my sights back to his face.  

The older man doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything. His facial expression never changes, either. Stoic… Unbothered. 

There’s no expectation, no hardened lines of hot-tempered intolerance, not even when I take my time beyond what’s typically labeled as a moment far too long. The cyborg is offering. He’s offering help, without any expectation of something in return, That’s what he’s been doing this entire time. 

You can’t rush mourning. 

All you could do was try to push through it. 

Taking his open hand, it envelopes mine easily. Suddenly his touch feels more there, lukewarm and jarring. His skin is strange, a cross between soft flesh and solid steel, like the layer just beneath his skin was composed of metal; Soft, yet unyielding. 

Maybe I could just… Put it on hold, sorta. For Robin, if no one else.

Hopping over the gap in better confidence, we continue onwards. The movement of my limbs still feels alien, thoughts suspended in an emptiness born upon lack of sensation. However, each step forward ignites synapses like a chain reaction. Starting from each individual toe, seeping into my heel, up my calf, into my knees – and with the awakening comes lucidity. 

That being said, it required effort to do as Franky suggested. Ivory was my biggest heartbreak yet since my introduction to this world, and my brain was constantly looping back to the sorest of subjects whether I tried actively ignoring them or not… Maybe the thoughts were meant to resurface. Sorrow was natural, wasn’t it? And completely ignoring a loss didn’t make it go away, just like the cyborg had said. 

You had to deal with it, regardless of the circumstance at hand; Otherwise you would never be able to move on. 

“...You’re nicer than I thought you’d be.” 

It slips from my lips unknowingly, and I only register that fact when he shares a disgruntled, “Hah?”

Ah, fuck. 

“What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?! Are you sayin’ I’m a bad guy?!” 

“I-I didn’t mean it– I mean, I– Uh, not like that,” Recognizing that the statement had come out much more rude than I would normally allow, I back-track – stammering out apologies, embarrassment heating my nape. “Just– You’re a lot different than you were earlier… When you fought Luffy and– Well, y’know…”

“Oh, yeah. Can’t believe I almost forgot about that.” There isn’t a trace of leftover offense. In fact, the man seems rather appeased in a span of seconds. “Makes sense from that perspective, I guess… I can get really pent up, sometimes it makes me go nuts.”

“...Yeah.” How was I supposed to reply to that? 

“Well, no sweat. Sorry about all that. Shouldn’t happen again, unless you guys destroy my house or somethin.’” Chuckling, Franky grins down at me like the Cheshire cat, and I puff a laugh of my own. It shouldn’t have been funny, although the way he was going about the aftermath left me at odds with myself. 

Still… With all that had transpired, Luffy probably would’ve laughed, too. 

“I think Luffy would like you.” Somewhat smiling, I can’t hold his gaze as I think back to my soulmate – imagining the way he would’ve clutched his stomach, cackling loudly at Franky’s antics. “Well– Uh, if you hadn’t tried to kill him earlier, I mean.” 

The cyborg seems floored by this admittance. 

“Really? That’s… Surprising.” Head tilted towards the sky in ponderance, Franky considers this for a moment. “Earlier he wanted to start scrapping right away. Kinda hard to believe he’d like me after that.” 

“You’d… Be surprised.” Under my breath, I laugh openly – Luffy’s bright smile, always undaunted in the presence of everyone, was ever present even among his enemies. It wasn’t hard to imagine somebody who’d opted to swap sides receiving similar treatment. “He was really upset then. I mean, so was everyone– But, that was because of y–” 

A slip of the tongue, bitten off just a second too late. We were supposed to be moving past all this… Bringing up bad blood only served as a reminder, something I was certain neither of us wanted to relive. Inwardly, I’m cursing myself into oblivion. 

Franky either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care enough to call me out on the mistake. Regardless, he says nothing at all. 

“Uh, well…” I swallow hard. Anxiously aiming to change the subject, the first thing related to the topic pops into mind. “I-It doesn’t matter– Luffy wound up being okay after a while, at least. Only hurt for a couple of hours, maybe?” 

Tilting his head back, holding his stomach, Franky leans backwards and laughs. It takes me a moment to adjust to the swift change.

“Woah, really? Was he really whining that bad about it?!”

“Um, no? He never complains.” Lowkey offended – with a little confusion sprinkled on top – I scrunch my nose in defense of the boy. My boy, for Franky’s information. “It bothered me more than it bothered him…” 

The man chuffs, amused by the lovey-dovey gush you were spouting. “Wow, you really got the hots for this kid, huh? Must be the whole ‘soulmate’ deal if Straw-Hat just being hurt is that upsetting.” 

“I… That’s not what I’m saying. I mean like, literally.” Mind thoroughly boggled, I tilt my head, opening and closing my mouth a couple times. “Y’know, like… I can feel whatever he feels.” 

“You can… What?” 

“Yeah, I can feel Luffy’s pain. A-And vice versa.” 

I’ve taken a couple steps before noticing that Franky is suddenly gone from my side. Concerned, I swerve on my heel to see what may have gone wrong – Only to be met with Franky’s gaping jaw, sunglasses sliding down his nose. 

It’s here that I realize my error. 

“Are you serious?!” 

The conversation with Franky was flowing so easily, and being so disheveled, I’d blabbed it out without much thought. The cyborg didn’t actually know about the details that went into Luffy and I’s bond… No wonder he was so shocked.

For so long it had been common knowledge; to me, to Luffy, to my friends… I’d completely ignored the fact that Franky had no clue what I was talking about. 

“Oops– U-Um… Well, uh…” 

No going back now I guess. 

(One explanation later, and Franky is effectively gobsmacked.)

“Wait, so you’re tellin’ me that you can feel the same pain that Straw Hat feels… At the same time as it’s happening?!” 

Crossing another gap, the man stumbles from one traincart to the next, cupping his skull in dismay. 

“No wonder you looked all messed up during our fight! Man… That’s gotta be super rough!” Disbelief morphing to regret, the large man looks sheepish, avoiding my eyes in shame. “I’m really sorry about that. I know I was mad, but if I’d realized that you were basically a part of the fight too, I might not’ve been so rough about it.” 

A half shrug, and an appreciative nod. “Sure, um… Thanks. N’ it’s okay.”

“Not really, but whatever. So long as you’re good, I’m good.” And he offers another hand for crossing-aid. “Anyways, is that some kinda weird soulmate thing, then?” 

“I mean, yeah. Pretty much.” A hoist forward, and I hold my breath as the emptiness grabs at my feet with sinister intentions. The exhale upon landing is based more on alleviation than exhaustion – though both are present in a strange, head-tingling mix. “I guess… You could sorta say it's one of our ‘abilities.’” 

“‘Abilities?’ You sayin’ there’s more than one?” Franky doesn’t miss the bunny-eared hand motion – air-quotes – but moves past it quickly. “Now that I think about it, I remember hearing that soulmates had something weird like that… But I always thought it was some old wives’ tale.” 

“Oh… Uh, yeah.” Those were the words that mainly composed my vocabulary at this point. Again, it would make sense for Franky not to know that soulmates have abilities – it wasn’t as common here as it was there. 

From above, Franky has been subtly discerning your changing behavior, eyes shielded by black lenses that allowed him to do so without detection. That gloomy cloud above your head wasn’t completely gone… There was still some semblance of melancholy left, as expected. At least you followed his advice. That’ll make everything a hell of a lot easier; For him, for the others, and for you. You could use a bit more pep, though. 

“Hey, does that mean you’ll have some other ability that’ll make you feel better when Straw Hat gets here?” The cyborg tuts, frustrated at the dismal atmosphere; It was never a good attitude to have when entering the battlefield. “You’re still making me all emotional over here…”

“...I-In a way.” Unsure on how to respond, I try to remain honest without revealing too much. This guy was so forward, he had no grace when asking those kinds of questions – then again, I might’ve been overthinking it. “It would be… Nice, y’know. I-If he was here, I mean.” 

“Better be. Otherwise we’ll both just be down in the dumps again.”

Silence. We let it linger, just for a minute. 

God, Luffy. It was hitting me, dwelling on Franky’s inquisition as it floated on the air, just how badly I wanted to see him – Way more than our phone call. If only Sanji hadn’t destroyed the snail-phone. 

Uncrossing my arms, adept fingers seek out the scrawled words, sliding my palm over them in withheld desperation. I just… Really wished he was here right now. 

“...You think he’ll catch up soon?” 

It’s soft enough that I worry Franky won’t hear, but he does, and rumbles back with a hum of confusion. 

“Who, Straw Hat?” He asks, though the question is clearly rhetorical. “I’m not sure. Rocket Man is fast, if that’s how they’re gonna try to catch-up, but we’ve also got a pretty strong head-start on the Puffing Tom. Plus, they’d have to make it through Aqua Laguna, likely at its most dangerous state. Everybody here managed to narrowly avoid that, so…” 

Another hum, this time calculating and methodical. I glance up at his face, hopeful all over again. 

“Honestly, I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty bet.” Shrugging, Franky approaches our two companions as I wander a few steps behind. Sanji and Uso– no, Sniper King – are awaiting our arrival solemnly. “He might get here in time, he might not. Tough to say, really.” 

I nod, even if the cyborg can’t see it. Those were good odds – not just for me, but for Robin and her rescue. Better than what I’d been dealt so far.

It was something, and that’s what mattered. I’d take anything that I could cling to for the time being. 

—

There’s something out there. 

Luffy realizes it with a start – chin lifting from his crossed arms, laying on his belly at the head of Rocket Man once more – dead ahead, there’s something on the horizon. 

His heart jumps, grinning like a mad man who’d just won the lottery; Because it’s a train. Had they finally caught up?

“Hey, guys!” Calling for his friends at the revelation, he looks back towards where Nami’s head had so often poked from the window. She wasn’t there now, of course. “There’s a train ahead of us!” 

They gather outside as that small spec expands into a dot – the shape spreading out into vivid colors as the second train draws closer. The captain overhears worried discussions; Someone from the Franky family mentioning that it’s only the last two train carts of the Puffing Tom (the caboose, rather than the whole train), and Chopper squeals something fretful about how something must’ve happened, convinced that you and Sanji (and Usopp) have run into trouble. 

It’s not the ideal scenario, so Luffy opts to do some deducing of his own. Plucking at the bond, feeling around the innate attachment that leads one half to the other, the boy comes to a stand. Not much has changed. There’s the slightest shift in energy that’s struggling to stay present, slipping through his fingers, but it’s there. Maybe you were just too far away, still. 

Time to fix that. 

With a few carefully placed steps, hands glued to the smokestack, Luffy stretches his arms out whilst walking backwards. Chopper questions his methods, babbling in perplexity in such a way that the boy doesn’t quite understand him, especially given the hurricane encompassing their surroundings. 

“I’m gonna go check inside!”  

He relays to the doctor. There’s no other form of warning, other than the exclamation of one signature move: 

“Gum-gum… Rocket!”

Then, he’s off. 

You wouldn’t expect someone who acts so lackadaisical in his everyday life to be so accurate in the undertaking of launching themselves across large distances. Sailing through the air, Luffy felt almost like a bird amongst the storm clouds (minus the threat of being struck by lightning). Granted, that didn’t make the landing any less brutal. 

Both train carts emanate with terrified screams as the marine’s inside suddenly spot the boy rocketing towards them. They barely see Luffy’s face up until the moment he crashes through the front door, then tumbles into the second cart, demolishing the door frames as he goes. Under the force of his landing, everyone swears they can feel the train carts move a couple inches, propelled by the velocity of the incoming figure. 

Controlled by their nerves, every single man on board finds themselves dumbstruck – peering around their seats, leaning from their chairs – just to gape at the boy, clad in red, who’s slumped over the remains of what was once a wooden door, his body punched through so that his rear end and legs are the only parts visible. It splinters and cracks as he shifts, whining under his breath due to the pain. Even so, this doesn’t keep him from rising from the floor, taking his new accessory with him. 

Glancing up, the throbbing of his head is forgotten in an instant. The Captain readjusts his hat to sit atop his head properly. “Alright! I got in!” 

His speech must break the men from their stupors, as they all startle to life at once. 

“...Who the hell is this weirdo?!” 

But Luffy pays them no mind. He’s still plucking away, still deciphering whether or not you were around. So far, it didn’t feel like you were here at all. That would really suck. 

Sulking, Luffy tries another approach, hoping maybe the bond was acting up or something. 

“Hello? (Y/n)? Sanji? Are you in here?” Cupping a hand to his mouth, the door slides down his torso as he calls out, ignoring those around him. 

Leaning down, he mutters an additional name into the thoroughly stocked shelves.

“...Or even Usopp.” 

No reply. His shoulders sag, “Ugh… Maybe over there,” and Luffy moves towards the next cart over. 

“Wait… I know who that is!” Whilst Luffy is trying to shove himself and the door back through its broken frame, someone inevitably recognizes him. “That’s Straw Hat Luffy!” 

Not long after, there’s a surplus of weaponry. With that comes a barrage of bullets, all of which plunge into Luffy’s resistant skin. Dozens of them pull at his flesh for a moment, only slightly encumbering his progress, though the spray of ammunition does finally release him from his wooden prison, crumbling the wood to bits through sheer firepower. 

Luffy (frustrated and annoyed), remains undeterred. Shortly, he flings the bullets back to where they originated, bellowing out a long; “Hello-o!”

Restless from their new arrivals prowess, dissuaded from attacking due to how effortlessly Luffy had refuted their attempts to seize him, the marines have clustered into a rowdy, uncollected swarm of panic. The noise is deafening, impeding on any possibility that Luffy might hear a response to his summons, if there was one. 

“Hey!” The Captain snaps, patience thinning. These guys were pissing him off. “Shut up! I can’t hear!” 

They, in fact, did not shut up. 

Groaning, Luffy’s reached the final straw. If you or Sanji couldn’t hear him, maybe these guys were keeping you somewhere else. Somewhere sound proof, maybe? 

Thus, this writhing, terror-filled group reels backwards to flee from Luffy’s approaching, stretchy arm – One of them gets snatched up, anyways. The unfortunate man, chosen at random, is dragged forward against his will. Pulled in close, given a full view of Luffy’s disappointed scowl, the grunt’s skin is almost as white as his uniform. 

“B-Bring it on– We’re not scared of you!” His faux bravery is commendable; though unsuccessful. The captain doesn’t pay a shred of attention to the strangers' efforts. Not even a little bit. He’s got more important things on his mind, and a promise to uphold if it turns out they do have you hostage. 

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Straight to business, as usual. “And Sanji, too.” 

“W-Wait… Who?” The grunt sputters under Luffy’s prying gaze, failing to comprehend the question at first. “Oh… She’s– Your soulmate! Right…?” 

“Yep!” And the captain’s mood flips into something lighthearted, smiling at the guy like it was any other day. “Y’know… She’s got (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, ‘bout this tall…” 

He straightens, jutting out a flat hand to your general height. The marine in his grasp, along with the rest of the onlookers, watch on in surprise. The swap in mood was off-putting to them. 

“Oh! And she’s real pretty, too.” Luffy finalizes, gazing expectantly at the other. That had to be enough information, right? 

“U-Uh… No, I don’t think I’ve seen her at all…” 

At that, the boy’s expression drops into a scowl, and he starts to whine. “Aw, man… Are you sure you haven’t seen her at all? You guys kidnapped her or somethin,’ and I want her back already!” 

“Kidnapped…? What are–” Eyes bugging like saucers, the marine finds his senses returning. “W-Wait– What am I saying?! Of course I’ve seen her, she’s one of our hostages!” 

“Seriously?!” Luffy brightens. “So she’s here?” 

“What? Oh, no. Apparently she’s still on the train with the other escapees.” 

“What the– Why the hell’d you say anything, then?!” 

“What do you mean?! You asked!” 

“Yeah, but I wanted her to be here, not there!” Snarling in aggravation, Luffy tosses the marine off to the side, mood soured. The man yelps as he goes. “You’re no help at all!” 

Marching through the incessant crowd – all of whom try their hardest to get Luffy pinned down (failing miserably) – the boy grumbles to himself, murmuring that this expedition was ‘taking way too long,’ and that ‘they needed to catch-up already.’ 

Being able to sense a mere smidge of your soul attached to his wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him. Climbing to the roof of the train to signal the lack of crewmembers and soulmate, The Captain is eager to speed things up. 

“Zoro!”

Hence why, in that split-second, Luffy chooses to call for his second hand. 

“Cut ‘em!”

—

Tidbit Today!

This tidbit is from one of our past event winners!! Congrats, @/An0num0us730 !

Whenever (Y/n) is searching for comfort, but Luffy is busy (doing whatever Luffy does lol), Luffy will give her his red vest to wear.

For (Y/n), having the vest is immediately soothing, given his scent and that the garb is worn almost every day.

Luffy doesn’t entirely understand how it gives her comfort in this way, but can sense the calm that washes over her through their bond when he hands it over, so he just leaves it be. Plus, it lets him go back to whatever he was doing without having to worry.

(Author addition)

Luffy will also do this with his hat if he has to leave (Y/n) behind for an extended period of time. Leaving his prized position with her is an assurance more so for him than her, ensuring that a piece of him is with her at all times. 

While (Y/n) knows how important the hat is, and is consciously aware of its meaning, having Luffy’s vest is more encompassing over her psyche (via scent, and it helps while she’s both awake and sleeping… If that makes sense). 

They weren’t moving fast enough. 

That was the sole thought on Luffy’s mind as he stared off into the distance, where dark skies and raging seas merged into one, as if it were painted on a flat canvas with blue stretched as far as the eye could see.

Sat at the fearsome, shark-esque figurehead of Rocket Man – a second sea-train that Monster Granny had revealed to the crew – The captain rarely took his gaze from what lay ahead. Although the scene had remained unchanged, he was hoping that if he stared long enough, this unrelenting expanse of foreboding indigo would eventually falter. From the gloom, the Puffing Tom would appear. 

Even the tiniest spec, a mere hint that his half of the crew was gaining on the other… That would be more than enough to reduce the antsy jitters raking down every one of his muscles, to reduce the strain behind his eyes and the tension in his clenched jaw. 

Still, that deep, purplish-blue hue never wavered, so Luffy was left to his contemplations – desperate to keep an eye out for anything that might approach in the meantime – unwilling to go inside with the others, too impatient to sit idly by.

How long has it been since he first came out here? Since they left? Probing the midnight air, he traced the train tracks for what must’ve been the thousandth time. The Captain had made it a habit… A ritual, even. Maybe if he kept tracing the path ahead of them, then the other train would eventually appear. 

He wanted that dumb train to show up. He wanted it so bad, like a craving he couldn’t satiate… Because Luffy could feel you, pulling him in that same direction. You were there. And so was Robin, and Sanji – Even Usopp, apparently.

To recap… The crew had their morals back, and that he was thankful for. Their drive had been refueled, now aware of the facts; how Robin hadn’t actually betrayed them, rather, the archaeologist was aiming to sacrifice herself for her friends. The Government was behind the entire scheme, threatening him and his crew’s lives if the woman didn’t comply with their demands. They didn’t give her much of an option, taking full advantage of the situation. Nami took it a step further, relaying her insight and a well-thought theory on where the marines would likely be taking Robin; someplace called the ‘Gates of Justice.’ According to The Navigator, if the marines managed to get Robin to those gates, the other woman would never be seen again. 

Despicable. Luffy detested the whole thing; coercing and intimidating one of his friends, his crewmate, to do the unthinkable. The Captain wasn’t sure which was worse – The Government concocting their plans in the first place, or that Robin had felt she wasn’t able to fill them in on what was happening… Did she think that Luffy and the crew wouldn’t help her or something? 

That aside, according to Rope-Guy (Paulie, who’d saved the Straw Hat’s skins earlier), it was too dangerous to take a ship out on the ocean, given that Aqua Laguna would easily be able to obliterate the vessel given the opportunity. Noting the captain and crew’s determination in spite of the shipwrights warnings, Monster Granny lended a hand, as did Ice-Pops. Everyone was boarded on a secret sea-train – a mismatched gang of pirates, thugs from the Franky Family, and a handful of shipwrights – and they were all headed for Enies Lobby. 

(That was where the Gates of Justice were located, apparently. Luffy hadn’t paid much attention past what he thought were the important parts.)

Rocket Man was unstable, based on the way Ice Pops and Monster Granny had insisted on it, but Luffy didn’t care much. The train was fast, and fast was exactly what they needed right now. They needed to catch up to the others as soon as possible, since it was likely that Robin wasn’t the only one whose life was at stake. 

Given that she had surmised the idea in the first place, it was Nami who came up with the secondary theory that your fate traveled alongside Robin, which was destined to end in tragedy. After all, you were one of the Government's targets – Lucci had said so himself. Regardless of the reason why, this gave all the more reason as to why it wasn’t too farfetched of an idea. Assuming you would be taken to the Gates of Justice alongside the archeologist, well…

The captain bites down on his teeth, burning holes into the bruised atmosphere. All he wanted to do was slingshot himself across the ocean, to you and Robin. Logically, he couldn’t do that, as much as he willfully desired it… The thought of his soulmate and crewmate getting taken from him, permanently, made his insides twist – the waiting was eating him alive, and he just wanted to do something – existing in the circumstances where he inarguably couldn’t. 

He blew off steam. Saving Chimney and her weird rabbit from being blown away by the wind, found to have snuck onto the sea-train for the thrill of the adventure; Zoro and himself combining their attacks into one so that the train could safely continue through a massive tsunami, threatening to drown them all and doing away with their rescue mission; Luffy was certain there would be nothing that could get in his way… Not to Robin, and sure as hell not to you, either. 

The captain’s resolution is solid, he’s confident that whatever gets thrown at him, he’ll do whatever it takes to fight against it… Behind all that, though, he can’t help but feel a little nervous. There’s a time limit, one that hangs in the balance of this train catching-up to the one prior. It’s only a matter of time, yet time gets away from him. It draws on, slow and excruciating. Sneaking into his psyche like ninjas, the stillness ultimately plagues the boy with questions of your safety. Luffy can’t feel you – though he can get a sense of where you are – and not knowing what you might be going through is what’s throwing him off his game. That’s what he believes, at least, and it only makes the most sense. 

However, there’s so much more to it. He doesn’t want a general idea, he wants to know exactly where you are. Luffy wants to know who you’re with; If you’re with Robin, Sanji… He wouldn’t even be mad if you’d stuck with Usopp! Then he considers you might be alone, all by yourself. 

Frowning to himself, his imagination gets ahead of him: You, being surrounded by marine grunts. You, attempting to fight back in your own way, unable to get very far in your efforts whilst they overpower you. You, terrified as they seize and capture, holding you against your will… You, waiting for him.

There’s no sensation of you being injured, of your emotions. Nothing. Noticeably, this disturbs him. It grates on his nerves, the prospect of you being in pain, whilst he can’t even feel it for himself. Although, Luffy isn’t exactly sure if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing… Should he suddenly sense any kind of affliction resonating from your soul and into his, who knows what the captain might resort to. With that in mind, again– Was that happening anyways? Were you hurt right now, while he had no semblance of knowing? 

There’s no sign of it on his face, yet frustration simmers in the boy’s core. This was why he hated thinking too much about any one thing, because none of this was making him feel any better. One thought led to two, two to three; an ever-lengthening chain of questions he couldn’t answer, driving him to the limit. Luffy would only work himself up, and then–

The captain blinks, head lifting, shoulders dipped in contemplation – then, he snickers. 

He’s acting a lot like you, actually. 

It amazes him how you’re able to function like this, overloaded by a brain that thinks too fast for you to fully comprehend – always so worried and anxious. Unable to remember a time where he’s ever been so afraid for your wellbeing, it’s alien to him. His carefree nature never let him linger for very long, and Luffy registers that there may have been moments in the past where he’d felt something similar… Small moments, if anything. Your run in with Bellamy, for instance. It hadn’t necessarily scared him, not like right now. Luffy remembered being irked; slightly upset with himself, though more-so towards the other captain’s audacity to take you, knowing the sentiment and ‘sacred’ elements surrounding soulmates in this world. There was another time during Skypiea, where he’d reacted out of anger when you’d nearly died helping Conis; The first time he ever really considered your life to be at great risk. Then it happened again, when Eneru had attempted to kill both of you, right after you’d finally admitted to the boy that he was your dream. You’d earnestly believed that those would be your last moments alive with Luffy, your last words spoken so soon after your first. He remembers it well, the terror in your veins brandished in his own… 

Yet, that wasn’t the right feeling either. It hadn't felt like it did currently; Doesn’t align in all the same ways.

The captain surmises that this occasion is most similar to when the bridge collapsed in that fortress a while back. He’d been the cause, and so the fear was joined by guilt… Appeased only by your words, your presence and feelings.

Yeah. That probably felt closest. If only you were here, too… And you might’ve been, had Luffy chosen to take you into Galley-La HQ, instead of leaving you behind in the tree. 

Dwelling, returning to previous sentiments on his estranged emotions, Luffy registers that none of those instances had lasted so long. They weren’t so extensive, didn’t have all this unease nagging at the back of his mind, chewing through all the chaos and distraction of the mission at hand. He couldn’t quite remain himself. Couldn’t bounce back, incapable of sourcing positivity without some form of distraction; not in the way he usually could, anyways. Only his determination had remained unswayed.

Currently, your absence drove him out of his mind. It was only you, you, you– You are the reason behind the change.

And it’s different. 

Trying to pinpoint the inconsistencies, Luffy concludes that the sole reasoning lies in the fact that he’s not with you, not at your side. Every other time you’ve been in danger, whether it be his fault or someone else's, he’s always been there. Just… Around. Ensuring with his own eyes, his own actions, that you would always be safe. 

The reason isn’t only on account of you being gone, though. This was nothing like the time when Bellamy took you – when Foxy took you – nothing like when Fortress-Guy took you, either. Stakes are higher. The danger is more imminent, practically lying just around the corner. Luffy’s so painfully aware of it, as if something were crushing his ribs– Heartbeat pounding beneath his sternum whenever he imagined you, his soulmate, walking towards those gates. 

His soulmate. His. 

A bolt of lightning spears through the clouds, shattering the complex diorama of thought that Luffy’s been steadily building in his mind. 

He glances in surprise, the sound shaking him free from his overburdened thoughts. Those mere milliseconds of light bear clarity, and recognition. No longer hounded by the background noise of what he’d processed to get to this moment, the statement blares like a horn – singled out like printed words in the middle of a blank sheet of paper. 

It’s all he can see, all he can think. His, his, his–

The world goes silent, and Luffy swears that time freezes in one, epiphanic moment. 

You’re his.

As sound filters back into the silence, the light disappears, the low rumble of thunder courses into his torso – past ideas interlock, and every piece is set in place. The puzzle finally… Finally becomes whole. 

“...That’s why it's different.” When the captain speaks, it’s barely a breath. 

He stares into the ether with wide eyes that fail to take in any of the surroundings, concentrated on something else as it unfolds within himself.

It’s not that he’s not with you– It’s that you’re not with each other. Where you both belonged.

This wasn’t something new. It was something that had been growing – emotions, understanding, lessons – The longer you spent around each other, the more it flourished; 

Discovering your interests, likes and dislikes; Sharing sentiments in the late hours of the night; Seeing you smile for the first time; Trying his hardest to make you smile more, so he can see your eyes light up the room; And hearing your laugh– 

Drunken mishaps; Pretty doe-eyes that softened him into goo; Rosy hues and shy grins; The weight of your lips on his skin; The warmth of his on your skin; Spare glances exchanged for lingering stares; Gravitating toward you, lingering around you; Finding one way or another to maintain physical contact, just because he wanted to, never once wondering why–

Your voice; Your scent; Your touch; The way you would’ve acted if you’d been here instead of on that stupid train; Everything that is you–

And in the end, it’s plain to see that there isn’t any difference at all. 

It’s just you, and it’s him. Together. Whole. 

The satisfying connection bridges the gap, dopamine and serotonin rushing in tandem to dizzy and delight in the new acknowledgement. Luffy’s entire being floods with a harmonious buzz, skin tingling as if the soulmate link was rejoicing on its own accord. It jolts through his bones, and his fingers twitch to defy his motionless state of being. It feels like he could run straight across the water. 

After hurdling obstacle after obstacle, it would be when he finally figured things out that you weren’t here to experience it with him. However, if you were around, would he have been able to discover this at all? 

Being apart from you (in a displeasing, odd sort of way) was what had likely helped him to come to this conclusion. Since, really, when had he ever felt so torn up about a friend being taken? Thinking about Robin made him angry, sure, except her being gone didn’t rattle his composure so easily. He knew why now… Was that part of it? Was all of this confusion and heartache due to the fact that you were supposed to be more than friends, like his friends always said? 

Wait…

And Luffy’s lips part in astonishment, inevitably morphing into a soft grin. The clarity loosens his bones, heart floating in his chest like it has wings. Why hadn’t he figured it out sooner? He’d been so dumb, all this time. 

You’re not supposed to be anything – The difference is that you already are. 

You’re more than just a friend to Luffy. More than just having the title of being his soulmate. 

You’re more than a lot of things. 

“Luffy!”

Sticking her head out the window, the wind means to block out the sound of Nami’s summons back into the train cart. Luffy, sitting criss-crossed, leans off to the side in order to spot her red-hair whipping around wildly. Whether or not he chose to listen depended on what she had to tell him. He was dealing with some important things here. 

“Come over here!” Demanding as always, she prepares to not take no for an answer, as if she already knew what her captain was planning. “It’s Sanji!” 

The buzz of eagerness isn’t something he can ignore. So long as he trusted Sanji, Luffy was certain that his chef finally finding the time to call them (just as he’d promised) meant good news. 

Altogether giddy, elated, and ready to move forward, Luffy keeps this newest attainment close to his heart, forming a plan in the back of his mind. Though, really, there wasn’t much of a plan in the first place. The boy just wasn’t the type to think that far ahead. It was simple. All he had to do was catch up to you. 

Bandaged knuckles just begging to rescue the one who’d treated them, muscles grown taught with impatience – smashing through the marines would be a breeze; And, once Luffy did find you, there wasn’t anyone who could so much as threaten to take you away again. 

All in all, there was no way you were walking through those gates. He would make sure of it. 

—

“Luffy, come over here! It’s Sanji!” 

It’s difficult to discern Nami’s voice scraping through the poor signal, especially with the way the wind is howling in my ears – Even so, I’m immediately enlivened by nothing but the sound of my soulmate's name. Ages might’ve passed since I last saw him… Though, realistically it had probably only been a couple of hours at most. 

The top of the train cart felt as unsafe as I’d guessed it would be when Sanji had initially suggested it. I’d been sticking to my blond-friend like glue ever since, enduring the swooning and overbearance that came coupled with his character. Out of my three options available, Sanji would never risk anything happening to me. Not only was I a woman, I was also the captain’s soulmate. I imagine those two in combination was sort of a double-whammy for the chef’s responsibility… Or maybe even his loyalty. 

We’ve all caught each other up since Sanji first came upon us in that dusty storage cart. I told Sanji everything that happened with me whilst being unbound (the cuffs were unimaginably uncomfortable), then he proceeded to free Usopp and Franky as well. Arguments ensued; Sanji pretending not to know who Usopp was; calling each other ex-friends; Sanji learning who Franky is, then defending Usopp during an abrupt switch-up; only for Usopp to defend Franky; then finalized by Franky threatening Sanji, since the chef had kicked the cyborg in the head – and overall I really wasn’t certain how the marines hadn’t managed to overhear all the ruckus, especially for them being just one cart over. Nevertheless, Sanji wound up relaying what he’d learned so far in return for the shared information, which wasn’t much in comparison given the fact that he’d been separated from the group for most of the day… The only real major subject of note was that he’d promised to call Nami and the others as soon as he found a working transponder snail. 

To our delight, Nami answered. Her, Chopper, Zoro, and Luffy had made significantly more progress in determining the goings-on behind closed doors, wasting no time in plugging up the vacant holes of information… To dumb-it-down a bit for everyone, I’ll stick to the more important bits; 

Robin hadn’t betrayed us, which was elating at first – yet not so much once we learned that she was actually sacrificing herself for us instead. Our archeologist was a wanted criminal, one of significant proportions. The entire government held her in high priority as the last person known to be a translator of the poneglyphs, so when an undercover agency known as Cipher Pol Nine caught wind that she was in Water 7, they seized the opportunity to take advantage of her friendship with us, threatening to destroy us all should she not cooperate. 

I was in the midst of processing that I’d already heard all of this (practically saw it, too), when the navigator brought up a place known as The Gates of Justice. Drawn away from my inner-thoughts by the forbidding name-sake, the location was as formidable as it sounded. Once a felon was brought to its doors, they would never see the light of day again – your options lay with the fate of being brought straight to Marine HQ, or to a hellish prison encased deep beneath the waves – and both sides of the coin were flipped by the grim reaper. It was a guaranteed death sentence, if not something worse. 

If we didn’t save Robin in time, we would never see her again. Never. She’d be subjected to horrors beyond what she was likely capable of enduring, and we wouldn’t be able to lift a finger in order to help her past that point. There was a certain desperation laced through our operation. None of us wanted to lose Robin. Not like that. Not ever.

Ill at ease, I’d barely registered what Nami said next, transfixed on the endless torture that my imaginitive mind had come up with – all the possibilities and outcomes of what might wait for one of my nearest and dearest friends on the other side of those doors. Once our Navigator’s speech cut through the speakers once again, lamenting over a brief pause, my thoughts were brought to a stuttering halt. 

“...And there’s a chance that they might be taking (Y/n) there, too.” 

Hold the phone… “Wait… What?” 

Grave and unsure, there’s no chance Nami could’ve possibly heard the question. Hell, even I couldn’t hear myself. My heartbeat was spreading outwards, felt in my fingers, my toes, my ears and eyes – And it was picking up the pace. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Taken-aback, Sanji leans towards the microphone as if it would make his dismay better known. “They want (Y/n) too?! Why the hell would they want to take our Angel there? It’s bad enough with Robin, but why her?”

“I-I’m…” Gonna puke my guts out. Gonna have a heart attack. Gonna–

“I’m not sure, but that guy, Lucci, pretty much threw it in our faces. He said that (Y/n) was part of their agenda, but that’s all… I have some ideas, but nothing solid.” 

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Sanji grits, not sure what to make of it. “She only just got here. She’s not even from our world– How could they have managed to get her on their radar when she didn’t even exist here in the first place?” 

That… Was a good point. 

We’d only ever glazed over the fact, yet when put into perspective like Sanji had, none of what was happening recently checked out. Barely anyone else but the crew knew I existed (much less knew what my name was), and half of those people lived in the sky. Somehow, during the first month or two of my arrival, the government had found me, given me a bounty, and was now actively attempting to bring me into their custody… All the while, they weren’t going out of their way to capture Luffy, either. Did that mean they wanted me for something other than just being his soulmate?

Suddenly, all those instances where I’d pictured Robin – chained, crying, bowed over the chopping block with an axe poised over her neck – were replaced with me. White as a sheet of paper, my fingers dug weakly into Sanji’s sleeve, as if the joints had worn out. The sickly sensation made my stomach churn. 

Not just Robin… But, both of us? The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind until now. I didn’t want to believe it, but it made sense. I was taken on this train for a reason; Cargot for a delivery that I wasn’t even aware of. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility for me to be taken–

Except, why? Why the hell did the government want me in the first place? 

Queasy, uneasy, and everything in between – the next few bits of conversation go in one ear and out the other. I can’t fathom why, can’t begin to grasp at an answer. I’m too tired, too overwhelmed, circling back to cruel visions and endless questions. When I eventually hear Luffy’s name being shouted through the transponder snail, I could cry. I almost do. 

It holds all my focus – the telephone-like gastropod – as we wait for our captain to take Nami’s place. I haven’t been able to get used to the decrepit appearance, apparently machine, though appearing alive enough to question otherwise… Unblinking, glassy eyes that uniquely mirrored the emotions of the individual on the other end; A slitted mouth that opened to speak the same words from said individual; An unnatural dip in the back of its shell, perfectly suited for the microphone attached by a curled wire, sort of like the enzymes I’d learned about in Biology; Each further detail noticed sent me further off the rocker, and eventually I had to pry my sights away from it. 

They were just so strange. I mean, could everyone be sure they weren’t actually alive? How were they able to move and communicate so fluidly? Granted, some of the small ones were sort of cute… In an almost creepy sense. 

Not the point– It’s a disturbing piece of equipment (creature??), and I wouldn’t have risked holding such a staring contest if not for the impending arrival of my soulmate. Without his voice to supplement my distressingly depleting energy, I was psychologically all over the place. 

Waiting rather impatiently, my stomach swells with bile, crawling up my esophagus to throb in my chest and burn the back of my throat. Cold steel sticks to my thighs, stinging each time I move to peel away from the biting chill, and I tremble – shivers prowling whilst the torrential downpour dumps buckets overhead. 

I squeeze Sanji’s arm close and try to absorb, or at least share, some of the warmth… Maybe even some stability, since he’s also the only anchor keeping me from tumbling overboard, or being blown away like a kite. I hear him murmuring something delusional under his breath, and aptly choose to ignore it. I couldn’t get any more sick, otherwise I risk throwing up the nothingness in my gut… Not that our chef grossed me out! Just– It’s difficult being lowkey-flirted when I’ve been separated from our captain for so long. And Luffy sure was taking his sweet time. 

Pouting inwardly, huffing short, I can’t shake the nervousness, and am ashamed at how desperate my reaction has been at his mere mention. I wanted to hear his voice again, and needed that guaranteed pick-me-up. If I couldn’t physically be with him, I at least needed to hear him… 

Some spare chatter… A sound akin to a thudding bang in the background… I even think I hear Zoro speaking to somebody, apologizing (rare for him)... Eventually, Nami calls her captain’s name a second time, with a finalized; “Sanji wants to talk.” 

The speaker clicks, jostled around with a muffled clunk-clunking noise. Sanji takes the initiative to speak once everything falls quiet again. 

“That you, Luffy?” 

“Yup, it’s me!” 

Cheery and bright, just as usual. My heartstrings tug to hear my soulmate speak, the organ threatening to vault into somersaults. There might’ve been little hearts popping outta my head, based on Franky’s raised eyebrow.

“How’s it going over there? You saved the girls yet?” 

“Sorta. I found (Y/n), she’s with me now. Robin’s still in their custody.” A tad solemn, I know the chef is frustrated with himself for only making half of the progress he’d been aiming for – even more now, given our revelation to the dire circumstances. “Nami just told us why she surrendered and everything. So, yeah, I know what’s going on.”

“Wait, really?” Completely glossing over the second half of Sanji’s message, I can almost see it happen; The jerky motion of Luffy careening forwards from a slumped position, alert and criss-crossed on the wooden floorboards. His vocalized thrill reflects the image of a bright, wide-eyed smile. “You found (Y/n)? That’s great!” 

Head-high with the prospect that he was equally elated by only the mention of my name, I purse my lips – the sickly bubbling within my stomach fizzles away, traded for a warmth rising up my neck. 

Oddly enough, there’s a contemplative silence after his exclamation that draws for much longer than anticipated, unexpected from his previously rambunctious attitude. I think it catches everyone off-guard when he next speaks. 

Delighted tone dwindling, Luffy’s voice dips into a grim roll, low in his throat. “Well, not great about Robin, but… I’m sure you know what to do next. Before that, though…” 

As if he were genuinely afraid to hear the answer, the unsettled intonation between Luffy’s words doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Softer, now. 

“...’S she okay?” 

Discreet – except not at all. From the sounds of it, Luffy was assuredly worried. Very worried. 

I don’t even realize I’ve been holding onto my own breath for a few seconds, flabbergasted. There was so much emotion to it, a subtle admittance that he might’ve missed me just the same as I have him. I’m not sure why it’s so impactful now, compared to the other times– 

It was just so… Different.

Heart pounding, half wishing he was here to hear my response in person, I lick my lips and gesture for the microphone as Sanji hands it over – A high-class romantic in his own right, the chef knows that it’s not his place to respond to the captain’s question. That wouldn’t be quite so appropriate as you answering yourself. 

“Um– Yeah, I’m here.” And when I wonder if my voice isn’t loud enough, I try louder, adding quickly; “I-I’m here. I’m fine.” 

At the receiving end, your voice crackles through the speakers, and Luffy almost loses his composure entirely. 

Muscles unclenching, melting beneath his skin – that familiar malleableness that the boy has been chasing unknowingly, craving it with heedless want ever since the night before, is suddenly there. It’s not nearly as potent as before, not when your fingers aren’t there to grace his rubbery skin. 

With a laugh that seems too hushed to come from his lips, Luffy pleasingly finds his response. 

“Good. I’m glad.” Optimism revitalised, sufficed to say Luffy was giddy with your confirmed wellbeing. “Told ya’ you were strong.” 

For me? There’s instant butterflies. 

The reference to last night, with just the two of us on the rooftop, feels just slightly too personal of a moment to be having in front of three other men… Was it too awkward? Too much mushy-nonsense for them?

Oh, whatever. Wtf do I care? I’m on cloud nine right now, mood flipped a full one-eighty. One only knows how long I’ll be able to bask in this feeling. 

“And you? Are you okay, I mean…” Flushed by the given praise, I struggle to find an immediate response. Then, I rush to add the others into our concerns, embarrassed for not asking sooner. “E-Everyone else, too…”

“‘Course I am! We’re all fine.” Full blown cackling – because naturally, you would be worried about everyone but yourself – Luffy finds your reply comical. “But listen, I’m comin’ to get you soon, okay? Don’t worry. Not gonna let them take you. Robin, neither.” 

More butterflies – an entire net of them. They use my ribs as a cage, little threads lining along my bones threatening to pluck away one by one as they flutter and writhe inside. 

Head bobbing, nodding ecstatically, it takes a few seconds for me to recognize I’m being a bit of a ditz; He couldn’t actually see me. 

“Okay.” Skittish in my mistake, the word sounds clipped. Still, I wanted to hear more of his voice. “...Be quick, please?” 

In the background, I notice a voice that sounds suspiciously like Zoro’s mumbling something in the background. However, Luffy chuckles yet again. 

“Yeah, I promise. Hey, Sanji… Do me a favor and keep an eye on her for me. Just until I get there, alright?” 

A little disappointed to be cut off so soon, I pass the detachable microphone back into Sanji’s hand, who nods his head in thanks. He lifts the device to his mouth, and clicks the button; 

“Already planned on it, Captain.” 

“Good. Anyway, like I was saying…” Luffy, strengthened by confidence, took up his official role in an instant. Clearly addressing the chef, you can hear the smirk whisper through his teeth. “Go ahead and give ‘em hell.”

A chorus of confused ‘what’s?’ And ‘huh’s?’ Echo hoarsely through the speaker. The disagreement culminates with Zoro’s voice cutting into the line.

“Hey! Hold on.” The swordsman must be nearby. It isn’t as hard to hear what he’s saying compared to everyone else. “Don’t be reckless, Luffy! If he wants to stand a chance he’s gotta wait until we catch up! Hey, cook – Can you hear me? There are crazy guys on that train, so–” 

“Zoro.” 

The almost-reprimand isn’t often heard when the captain addresses his second mate… Scratch that – I don’t think I’ve ever heard Luffy use that tone with Zoro before. He’s only ever used it on me once, if only a handful of times. 

“It’ll be fine. What would you do if it were you?” 

A pause, no response. Luffy keeps curt with each comment, speaking transparently; Undoubted that the restlessness in himself was reflected in everyone right now. 

“After hearing that Robin lied, and was taken into custody in order to save us… Could you just stay put and wait?” 

No. Of course not – Nobody verbalizes it. Nevertheless, no one argues, either. 

“It’s no use trying to stop him.” 

Trailing my gaze to Sanji’s expression, I’m expecting our chef to be annoyed with Zoro’s lack of faith… 

I’m surprised to find it’s the complete opposite.

“You know me well.” A wry grin, oozing with self-confidence and gratified by his captain’s understanding, splays across the bottom half of Sanji’s face. “Hey, moss-head! Are you worried about me?” 

“I hope they kill you!” 

Ignoring the green-haired man altogether this time, Sanji asserts his plan. Passionate, the rage born from the danger the archeologist has been put through causes his hand to tighten around the microphone. 

“Anyway, that settles it. After hearing what Robin was thinking… Even if the captain orders it, I wouldn’t stop even if you begged me!”

Staring into the night as if the sky itself had wrought this upon us, Sanji’s hand clenches harder, and the microphone shatters to bits in his palm. 

Standing across the way, Franky careens forwards, back hunched and staggered. He screams, exerting his shock, “Aw– Why’d you break it?! I wanted to ask Straw Hat something, too!” 

“Huh?” Sanji glances up halfheartedly. It’s clear he doesn’t care much for the broader man. “Who cares. You should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Even if I didn’t tell you, it was obvious, wasn’t it?! What, was I supposed to interrupt while you were talking? That’s just rude!” 

“You’re rude anyway.” 

Sorrowful eyes lain on the broken equipment, I deflate. That was that, I guess. I wasn’t worried so much anymore… Having Sanji here, he’d likely die before letting anything get even remotely close to me. Even with that in mind, I remained upset that the conversation was put to an end so soon. At least I knew Luffy was on his way, I suppose.

Sighing, the argument between Franky and Sanji is one I don’t bother to pay attention to. Rather, my sights slide over our environment – glazing over storm clouds, colored black against cornflower skies – trailing over the sleek metallic surface of the pine-green convoy – eventually landing on Usopp’s face. Overshadowed by a stubbornly hard stare, The Sniper’s expression is downturned, scowling at the spot between his crossed legs. I don’t want to stare too long, although I knew he’d been holding the position steady throughout the phone call. 

“So,” When Usopp speaks, I don’t expect it – even when I’m looking right at him. Pained, the breath in his lungs isn’t enough to support the broken sentences. “All this time, things like that were happening… While I was gone?” 

Guilt. 

That was par for the course, I guess. I didn’t blame him for feeling such a way… Usopp wasn’t directly at fault, though he had been ignorant in his grievances. 

Inwardly, I hope that maybe these turn of events might start to patch things up. Perhaps Usopp might see the gravity of our predicament, and he’d come back to us. Surely, he had to, right? We might not have been crewmates, although Robin was his friend, regardless… The sniper wouldn’t sit on the sidelines with what he knew now. 

Sanji isn’t having the pity-party, and he glowers across the way. “In a way, Robin’s in the same boat you are. She never found out about the Merry, or about the huge fight between you and Luffy.” 

I’m uncertain whether the chill that racks over my skin stems from the coldness of the chef’s words, or the wind that picks up. It billows hard enough to dishevel our clothes, slinging Usopp’s satchel behind him, held by the strap crossing his chest. 

“In order for all six of us, including you, to stay safe, Robin surrendered to the Government. She sacrificed herself and obeyed their orders.” Rubbing salt in the wound, Sanji doesn’t let up. As much as he’d lamented Usopp’s departure, there was no denying that Usopp’s conundrum may have led to a different outcome had it been dealt with properly. We might not have even been here in the first place. 

However, I had to wonder if a smidge of this animosity was directed from his own anger – from Sanji’s lack of forethought or ability to prevent what had already happened. He seemed just as pent up as Usopp; The two much like expanding balloons, preparing to pop. 

“She did it for us.” 

The closing statement doesn’t leave an opening for any kind of response, and Usopp quietly burns holes through the train’s roof. 

Whether he was doing it intentionally or not, Franky steps forwards to take up the mantle once more… Reasonably, I feel it’s unintentional, if a bit unusual for having interrupted twice in Usopp’s stead. He sobs loudly, back towards us, wailing into the night. Apparently, the cyborg was distraught over our predicament. 

Grown man btw.

“Oh, man–” Choking on tears, Franky… Strums a pink guitar?? Where the hell did that even come from? “What a moving story!”

Then, the guitar is gone in a flash, and I can’t keep up with the pace. Next thing I know, he’s on his knees, brandishing a handkerchief to hold over his leaky eyes… Again, not sure where tf that came from, considering the man’s got no pockets (he’s wearing a speedo, for God’s sake). Beyond that fact, I couldn’t see how the damn thing would help, given that we’d been subjected to the downpour. 

“Why are you crying?” With a tone that’s borderline disgusted, our chef catches my attention. 

My neck cranks to Sanji in disbelief. That’s what he was so focused on? I mean, sure, it was weird for the cyborg to grieve over his ‘enemies’ woes… But, seriously. What the hell? What about the other impossible and unforeseen events that just occurred in the last forty-five seconds? Was that supposed to be normal??

“I’m not cryin,’ you are!” 

Sanji, lost for words, simply gapes and regards the older man like a recently-discovered alien. I can relate. Franky pays us no mind. 

“Dammit– I can’t believe it! Now I’m all torn up… Nico Robin is said to be a cruel, inhuman, evil woman! But the truth is… She’s got a soft side for her friends!” Massive palms slamming the tin below, an absolute wreck over problems not his own – laid face down, bare-belly to the cold steel – I have half a mind to reprimand him for labeling Robin in such a way. Not to mention, he might be attracting all sorts of attention with the ruckus. 

Inevitably, I don’t get to say anything at all, as the older man jerks to a stand too swiftly for me to counter. 

“All right, then!” Mind made up, Franky’s facial expression has completely flipped. Once a vision of sorrow, the cyborg now holds a confident smile. “Once again, I’m Franky, the leader of the Franky Family! I’ll give you a hand, Mr. Eyebrows!” 

Hold the phone… Take two. 

Wondering if I’d finally lost my mind, I question reality itself–