I Just Think Frogs R Neat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/67655636

People would argue over what kind of man the Pirate King had been, whether the Strawhats had been visionaries or fools, and whether their loyalty was earned, bought, or born from something darker.

They would forget how this crew didn’t carve their legacy into stone or gold.

They stitched it into each other's fabric.

It was this: the slow mornings and the lazy errands, the bickering and the laughter, the way Zoro carried more than he needed to so Usopp wouldn’t drop his paints, the way Nami’s shopping lists curled at the edges where Luffy had bent them absentmindedly—the way Sanji would make tea later without anyone asking, just because he could.

Someday, the legacy of the Strawhat Pirates would be warped and shrouded in mystery. The shadows of the Sunny’s hull would warp and shift until they outlasted the current era with only Brook to remember the warmth and comfort of the grass, the cozy bunks, and the famias nestled inside like Matryoshka dolls.

But that wouldn’t be for many years to come.