Memi

Usopp and Luffy are yelling somewhere above deck. Nami is complaining about something being broken. Chopper laughs so hard you can hear it through the walls.

And you stand in the kitchen trying to hold a plate without dropping it.

Your fingers shake… again.

You tighten your grip, jaw clenching “Careful, love.”

A warm hand slides under yours before the plate slips. Sanji takes it easily.

You immediately pull your hand back “I had it.”

“Mhm.” He smiles softly “And I’m the Pirate King.”

You huff quietly.

He places the plate down and turns back to the stove. The kitchen smells warm. Garlic, butter, something sweet baking in the oven.

Usually the smell makes you happy.

Today it only makes your chest hurt.

“I can still help…” you mumble.

“You are helping.”

“I barely cut two carrots.”

“That’s still helping.”

You look down at your hands.

Your fingertips are numb again. That strange heavy feeling like your hands are asleep and aching at the same time.

You flex them and pain shoots through your wrists.

You hide it quickly but Sanji notices everything. His eyes flick toward you for one second.

“You should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I said I’m fine.”

Silence.

Only the sound of oil sizzling in the pan.

You hate that tone in your own voice… sharp and angry, but not at him, never at him, mostly at yourself.

Sanji says nothing after that. He just moves around the kitchen calmly, cigarette hanging from his lips while he cooks for the crew like always.

Perfect movements.

Your eyes stay on his hands… strong hands. Fast hands. Hands that work.

You swallow hard.

“I can wash the dishes at least.” you say.

“You washed them yesterday.”

“And dropped three.”

“You dropped one.”

“It still broke.”

“So?” He shrugs “Franky breaks half the ship every week.”

“That’s not the same…”

He glances at you again and you look away first.

You move toward the sink before he can stop you. The plates are already stacked there.

You can do easy.

You grab the sponge, but the moment you squeeze it, pain burns through your palm so suddenly your breath catches.

The sponge slips right out of your hand.

Splash.

Water everywhere.

“Ah—shit.”

You try to grab it quickly, but your fingers refuse to close properly. The plate beside it tilts dangerously.

Sanji catches it before it falls, of course he does.

And suddenly your eyes burn.

“I’m sorry…” you whisper.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I can’t even do dishes right.” your voice cracks embarrassingly at the end.

You turn away fast.

Stupid.

You hate crying about this.

You hate the pity even more.

But Sanji doesn’t sound pitiful when he speaks… he sounds serious “Look at me.”

You don’t.

A chair scrapes softly against the floor.

Then he’s in front of you, looking at you carefully “Look at me, love.”

Slowly, you do.

His brows are slightly furrowed “You think I care about dishes?”

“No, but—”

“You think I want you here because you can scrub pans?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then tell me what you mean.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, because the truth feels ugly.

Sanji waits patiently anyway.

Your throat tightens.

“I just…” you stare at the floor “Everyone does so much.”

“Hmm.”

“Luffy fights sea monsters like it’s nothing. Zoro trains until he bleeds. Nami handles navigation alone during storms. Usopp builds things. Franky fixes everything. Robin knows everything. Chopper is our doctor.”

You laugh weakly.

“And I can barely hold a knife some days.”

The kitchen goes quiet.

You expect him to answer immediately, but he actually doesn’t. He just moves closer and very gently, he takes your hands.

Even though you try to hide how stiff they are, his thumbs rub over your knuckles carefully.

“Does it hurt right now?” he asks softly.

You hesitate “…Yes.”

“Numb too?”

You nod.

“Since this morning?”

“Since yesterday.”

“And you still tried to help me cook breakfast.”

You shrug helplessly “I wanted to do something useful.”

Something flashes across his face, not anger at you, but something sadder “Oh, sweetheart.”

The nickname almost breaks you.

You look away again.

“I know everyone says it’s okay,” you whisper “but it doesn’t feel okay.”

Sanji stays quiet for a second, then he suddenly pulls you gently against his chest.

One hand cradles the back of your head while the other rubs your back slowly.

“You listen to me now.” he says quietly.

His voice is low and firm in that rare way he gets when he means every word.

“You’re part of this crew.”

You grip his shirt weakly.

“You hear me?”

“…Yeah.”

“No. Really hear me.” He leans back enough to look at you “You think being useful is the reason we love you?”

Your eyes widen slightly “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You fall silent.

Sanji sighs softly “When Chopper gets sick, do we throw him overboard because he can’t work?”

“No.”

“When Zoro is half dead after a fight, do we tell him he’s lazy?”

“Of course not.”

“When Luffy can’t move after doing something stupid?”

“That happens every week.”

Sanji snorts quietly “Exactly.”

Despite yourself, a tiny laugh escapes you.

“There it is.” he murmurs.

Your face warms.

He brushes his thumb under your eye.

“You’re hurting,” he says simply “that’s not failure.”

“But I make things harder.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I can’t even help in fights.”

“And?” His brows pull together again “Do you think your only value is fighting?”

You hesitate “A little…”

“Absolutely not.” he says it immediately, strongly “You make this place softer.”

Your breath catches.

Sanji continues before you can answer.

“You stay with Chopper when he studies too late. You listen to Usopp’s stories even when they’re terrible lies.” he smiles faintly “You help Robin find books. You calm Luffy down sometimes, which is honestly a miracle.”

You blink rapidly.

“And me?” he says quietly “You help me too.”

“How?”

He gives you a look like the answer is obvious “You sit with me during late nights in the kitchen.”

Your chest aches.

“You taste every new recipe.”

“You cook those for everyone.”

“I still want your opinion.”

His fingers squeeze yours carefully “You remind me to rest.”

“You never rest.”

“Exactly. Someone has to tell me.”

Another tiny laugh escapes you.

Sanji smiles softly at the sound.

Then he lifts one of your hands carefully to his lips and kisses your knuckles, slowly, like your hands are something precious.

Not broken or useless.

“You do enough.” he whispers.

The words hit harder than you expect, because part of you still doesn’t believe them.

And maybe he sees that, because he suddenly tilts your chin upward gently.

“And even if you did nothing,” he says, “even if all you could do was sit here and breathe beside me, I would still want you here.”

Your eyes sting again immediately “Sanji…”

“I mean it.” his forehead rests against yours now “You don’t have to earn your place every single day.”

The tears finally spill over.

You hide your face against his chest with a frustrated sound.

“Ah, don’t cry…” he murmurs immediately, holding you tighter “Now I’ll cry too and the others will never let me live it down.”

You laugh weakly through tears.

“There you are.”

His hand rubs your back slowly.

After a while, your breathing finally calms.

“…I still hate it.” you admit quietly.

“I know.”

“I hate needing help.”

“I know that too.”

“And I hate feeling weak.”

Sanji hums thoughtfully. Then he gently pulls back just enough to look at you “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you’re strong as hell.”

You immediately shake your head “No.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t even—”

“Love.” His voice softens again “You wake up hurting and still try every day.”

You go still.

“That sounds strong to me.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Maybe because nobody ever says it like that.

Sanji smiles a little.

“Now.” He wipes under your eyes gently “Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not the doctor.”

“Temporary doctor’s orders.”

You snort.

“You sit right there.” he says pointing toward the small chair near the kitchen window.

“And what are you doing?”

“Cooking.”

“I should help.”

“You should rest.”

“But—”

He gives you a look… not angry, just stubborn. Very Sanji.

You sigh dramatically and sit down.

“Good.” He smiles again finally, softer now “That’s my sweetheart.”

You watch him move around the kitchen again.

Comfortable.

After a minute, he speaks without turning around “Can you do something for me though?”

Your shoulders tense immediately “What?”

“Tell me if the sauce needs more salt.”

You blink “That’s it?”

“That’s a very important job.”

A small smile pulls at your mouth.

Sanji glances over his shoulder and catches it immediately “There’s the smile I like.”

He brings over the spoon carefully.

You taste the sauce. Warm. Rich. A little spicy.

“It needs more pepper.”

Sanji gasps dramatically “Perfect. I trained you well.”

He bends over and leaves a soft kiss on your lips before moving back to the kitchen.

You laugh again, more real this time.

And somehow, sitting there while he cooks beside you, the guilt feels quieter.

Not gone maybe, but quieter.

Sanji notices that too as he smiles softly to himself before turning back to the stove.

“See?” he says gently, winking at you “Always helping the chef.”

── .✦ Zoro:

tags: established relationship, comfort, chronic pain, emotional support, soft zoro, insecurity, hurt/comfort

The Sunny rocks softly under the afternoon sun.

You grip the broom tighter.

Bad idea.

Pain shoots through your fingers immediately. Your hands feel numb in some places, burning in others. You try to ignore it and keep sweeping.

“You missed a spot.”

You look up and see Nami pointing near the stairs with her pen.

“Oh—yeah. Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile quickly “Just tired.”

She watches you for a second longer before walking away.

The second she leaves, you shake your hands behind your back.

It hurts.

Again…

Later, everyone eats lunch together.

Luffy is stealing meat from everyone’s plates.

Sanji is yelling “LUFFY! STOP TOUCHING THE FOOD!”

“I’m hungry!”

“You already ate three plates!”

“I’m still hungry!”

Basically the usual.

Across the table, Zoro drinks quietly.

You glance at him and he notices immediately.

He watches you with a questioning expression on his face and says “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m thinking.”

“That face means trouble.”

You laugh softly, making him smirk.

Then his eye move lower to your hands.

You pull them under the table immediately, which makes his expression change a little.

That evening, you find him training on deck. Weights. Swords. Sweat.

Normal Zoro things.

You stand nearby awkwardly “Can I train with you?”

He pauses “You trained yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And the day before.”

“I know.”

“And you could barely hold the practice sword after.”

You force a laugh “I’ll get better.”

He studies you carefully “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Big lie… but you hate saying no. You hate sitting around while everyone works.

Everyone has something.

Nami navigates.

Sanji cooks.

Usopp fixes things.

Chopper heals people.

Robin researches.

Franky builds.

Brook plays music.

Jinbe steers.

Zoro fights.

And you… you struggle to even hold a mop some days.

So you keep trying, even when your hands shake, even when your fingers go numb, and even when you wake up at night because pain crawls up your wrists.

You keep trying because if you stop, what are you useful for?

“Again.” Zoro blocks your attack easily.

Your wrists hurt already.

You tighten your grip at your best and then swing again.

He blocks again “You’re too tense.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that every five minutes.”

“I am fine.”

Your fingers suddenly lose strength and the sword slips.

You freeze.

Your hand tingles painfully.

Zoro looks down at the fallen sword, then at you.

You quickly bend down to grab it, but pain shoots through your wrist so hard you suck in a breath.

But he already heard that “You’re hurt.”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You’re terrible at lying.”

“I said I’m fine!”

Your voice comes out sharper than you mean.

The deck goes quiet, even the wind feels still.

Zoro stares at you, then he sighs “Come sit.”

“I don’t need—”

“Sit.”

You hate how weirdly gentle his voice sounds… it makes your chest hurt.

You sit down near the railing while he puts the practice swords away.

For a while, neither of you talks.

Then he sits beside you.

“You’ve been hiding it.”

You stare at the ocean “Hiding what?”

“The pain.”

You shrug “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to you.”

You laugh weakly “Not really.”

“You can barely hold things some days.”

Your throat tightens.

“I can still do stuff.”

“I know.”

“I just…” You swallow hard “I’m slower.”

Zoro says nothing.

“And everyone else does so much…” you continue quietly “I can’t even finish basic chores without messing up.”

“You don’t mess up.”

“I do…”

“You don’t.”

“I do.” you repeat, louder this time “I can’t scrub the deck long enough. I drop things. My hands stop working in fights. Sometimes they go numb for hours.” your voice shakes “I’m supposed to help the crew.”

“You do help.”

“How?”

The question comes out too fast and too honest.

You immediately regret it, but Zoro doesn’t get angry.

He leans back against the railing “You think helping only means fighting and chores?”

“I mean… yeah? In a pirate crew, yeah.”

“That’s stupid.”

You blink “That’s rude.”

“It’s true.”

You glare at him weakly.

He continues anyway “When Chopper patches us up after the smallest cut, is that useless?”

“No.”

“When Brook plays music or makes you all laugh after bad days?”

“No.”

“When Luffy drags us into trouble and somehow makes people free?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

You open your mouth and close it again.

Zoro looks toward the sea “You stay awake with people when they can’t sleep.”

You blink.

“You listen when someone’s upset.”

You stare at him.

“You remember small things.” he says “Like how Chopper likes compliments. Or how Usopp gets nervous before fights and what calms him down.”

Heat rises to your face and say “That’s not important.”

“It is.”

“It’s not enough.”

Zoro goes quiet for a moment, then suddenly snorts “You know? I don’t like using him as an example, but even the weird eyebrows man never uses his hands to fight.”

You stare at him “…Sanji?”

“Unfortunately.”

A small laugh escapes you.

Zoro points at your hands “There are other ways to fight.”

“I can’t exactly kick like him.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But—”

“Even I use my mouth for a sword.”

You blink again “That… sounds weird when you say it out loud.”

“It works, doesn’t it?”

You laugh despite yourself.

“There’s more than one way to help people. More than one way to fight.” He looks directly at you now “You keep trying to force yourself into something that hurts you.”

Your eyes sting suddenly “I just don’t want to be dead weight.”

His expression hardens immediately “You are not dead weight.”

The words come fast, strong and certain.

“You hear me?”

You look away quickly.

“You belong here.” he says quietly now “With us. With… me.”

Your chest aches painfully, in that overwhelming kind of way that isn't always bad.

“You noticed all that?” you ask softly.

“Obviously.”

“I thought I hid it well.”

“You hide it terribly.”

You groan “Great.”

“You flex your fingers every ten seconds.”

“…Oh.”

“And you make this face.”

“What face?”

“This one.” he copies your annoyed expression badly.

You stare at him “That looks nothing like me.”

“It does.”

“You look constipated.”

“Tch.”

Now, that makes you finally laugh… a real laugh this time.

Zoro watches you carefully afterward, like he’s checking if the sadness is still there.

And it is, but lighter now.

“You really think there are other ways?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah.”

“What if I still can’t do enough?”

“You don’t decide that alone.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the crew already wants you here.”

Your eyes widen slightly.

“And I want you here…” he adds.

The softness in his voice nearly kills you but his red ears are so cute.

You stare at him for a long moment, then suddenly lean forward and kiss him.

Zoro makes a surprised sound against your lips.

Then one hand moves carefully to your waist, pulling you closer in a gentle push. Always gentler than people expect from him.

The kiss is warm and slow, feeling close and safe.

When you pull back, your face feels hot.

“That was a thank you.” you mumble.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“You can thank me again if you want.”

You snort loudly “There’s the idiot swordsman again.”

“And there’s the smiley you.”

You lean against his shoulder.

Finally, you don't feel guilty about all this.

── .✦ Buggy:

tags: established relationship, chronic pain, insecurity, comfort, subtle care, emotional hurt/comfort

The ship rocks hard under your feet as someone on deck is screaming again.

“WHO TOOK MY FUCKING CAPE?!”

You close your eyes “…There he is.”

One of the crew points quickly “Captain Buggy, Mohji used it to cover the cannon!”

“WHAT?!”

You hear stomping, loud crashing and then a man screaming in fear.

Then Buggy’s voice again “YOU USED MY CAPE FOR A CANNON?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”

You smile a little despite yourself, because your hands ache badly, today too.

The numbness started this morning before sunrise and it crawled from your fingertips to your wrists until even holding a spoon felt strange… like your hands belonged to someone else.

You flex your fingers slowly, pain shoots up your arm “…Ow.”

You hide the sound quickly.

You still have work.

Everyone on this ship works.

Even if Buggy acts dramatic and lazy sometimes, the crew still moves because people do their jobs.

You want to do yours too.

You grab the rope beside you and start tying down the supply crates before the weather gets worse.

Your fingers slip immediately “Damn it.”

You try again but the knot comes loose.

You try again and again and again.

Your jaw tightens “Come on…”

You can fight through pain, usually… but numbness is worse. It makes your hands stupid.

You try pulling harder.

A sharp sting suddenly burns through your palm and your fingers give out completely. The rope falls.

“Shit—”

“Why are you doing that?”

You jump.

Buggy stands behind you with his arms crossed.

“You’re gonna tie the crates like that?” he asks.

“I can do it.”

“Yeah? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fighting a rope and losing.”

“I said I can do it.”

Buggy narrows his eyes.

You hate that look… that careful one. The one that says he noticed something is off.

“I’m fine.” you add quickly.

“Uh-huh.”

“I am.”

“Sure.”

You glare “Why are you even here?”

“Because this is my ship.”

“You were screaming about your cape two seconds ago.”

“That’s different. That was important.”

You snort softly.

Buggy walks closer and grabs the rope from your hands and says “I’ve got it.”

“No, give it back.”

“Why?”

“Because I should help.”

“You are helping.”

“How?”

“You’re standing there looking pretty and keeping morale up.”

“That’s not real work.”

Buggy starts tying the knot quickly “Well, good thing I, the captain, didn’t ask.”

You cross your arms.

The ache in your hands pulses harder now from trying too much.

Buggy notices you rubbing your fingers, but he says nothing, and for you, that somehow feels worse.

Later, the crew gathers for lunch.

You sit beside Buggy while everyone argues over portions.

Cabaji points across the table “Captain, they’re taking extra meat again!”

“I CAN SEE THAT!”

“It was one piece!” someone shouts.

“THAT’S STILL THEFT!”

You try picking up your cup but your fingers twitch halfway there and the cup slips.

Buggy catches it before it falls, fast.

Nobody else even notices.

“Careful,” he says loudly “you break my cups, you buy new ones.”

You stare at him “…Thanks.”

“Tch. Don’t get emotional.”

He pushes the cup back toward you more carefully this time.

Under the table, his foot bumps yours once, soft, as if he’s checking you’re okay.

You look down quickly before anyone sees your face.

That night, the pain gets worse.

Rain hits the ship hard. Wind screams outside your room.

You sit on the edge of the bed trying to wrap your wrists tighter. Maybe if you press hard enough, your hands will listen again.

You hiss quietly.

The door opens.

Buggy walks in carrying a plate “What are you doing sitting in the dark like some tragic widow?”

You blink “What?”

“I brought food.”

“I can see that.”

“Well don’t sound too grateful.”

He puts the plate beside you.

You stare at it “…I wasn’t hungry.”

“Yeah, because pain does that.” he shrugs “Eat anyway.”

You freeze.

Buggy starts taking off his coat like he said nothing strange.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know.”

Silence fills the room for a moment except for the storm outside.

You look down at your hands again “I hate this.”

Buggy pauses “Hate what?”

“This.” You flex your fingers weakly “I can’t do basic things some days.”

“So?”

“So I’m supposed to help!”

“You do help.”

“How? I can barely hold a cup lately.”

Buggy scoffs loudly “Please. Half my crew can barely hold conversations.”

“That’s not the point.”

You stand suddenly and start pacing “I can’t fight right. I drop things. I mess up knots. I slow people down—”

“You don’t slow me down.”

“You help me constantly!”

“Oh no.” Buggy says flatly “How horrible. Helping my partner. Truly devastating.”

“Buggy.”

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You stop moving.

He looks at you. No jokes. No yelling. Just sharp eyes watching carefully.

“You think I keep you around because you can fight?” he asks.

“I mean… it helped.”

“That’s stupid.”

You blink.

Buggy points at you dramatically “You think I, the great Captain Buggy, only values people for strength? Look at my crew! Half these idiots eat soap if nobody stops them!”

A crash sounds outside.

Someone yells, “IT WASN’T SOAP!”

Buggy shouts toward the door, “YES IT WAS!”

Then he looks back at you again as his voice lowers “You’re with me because I want you here.”

Your chest hurts suddenly, but different from before.

“You don’t get it,” you whisper “I feel useless.”

Buggy groans loudly like the conversation annoys him.

Then he walks over to say “You know what I think is useless?”

“What?”

“You sitting here hurting yourself because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

You look away “I don’t want people treating me differently.”

“Good. Because they won’t.” Buggy crouches in front of you “But I will.”

You blink again “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says slowly, “and please don’t make me repeat it, that I’ll help before you ask. And I’ll make it look natural so nobody bothers you about it.”

You stare “…You already do that.”

Buggy freezes for half a second, then immediately points at you “HAH! So you noticed!”

“You’re not subtle.”

“I’m extremely subtle.”

“You literally steal things from my hands when they hurt.”

“That’s called romance.”

Despite everything, you laugh, small and tired, but real.

Buggy watches your face carefully after the sound leaves you, like he missed hearing it.

“Tch.” he mutters “There it is.”

“What?”

“That annoying laugh.”

“You like my laugh.”

“I never said that.”

“You smile every time.”

“I do NOT.”

“You’re smiling right now.”

“I’m just naturally charming.”

You laugh again.

Buggy’s shoulders loosen slightly, then he grabs your wrists carefully.

“You’re warm.” he says.

“My hands always are when they hurt.”

“…Does it feel bad now?”

“A little.”

He rubs circles into your wrists with his thumbs, awkwardly. Like he refuses to admit he learned how to help properly.

“You don’t have to fix everything alone.” he mutters.

You look at him quietly and admit “For someone who screams all day, you say really nice things sometimes.”

“Don’t spread that around.”

“Your reputation?”

“Exactly.”

You smile softly.

Buggy notices immediately and squints at you suspiciously “What?”

“You’re being cute.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It is.”

The storm outside gets louder, but inside the room, it feels strangely calm.

Buggy keeps rubbing your wrists.

You finally whisper, “I’m scared sometimes.”

He goes still “Of what?”

“That one day I won’t be able to do anything useful.”

Buggy clicks his tongue “Then you can sit next to me and insult people professionally.”

“That’s your job.”

“I can share… with you.”

You smile weakly.

“But really,” you say, quieter now, “what if I become a burden?”

Buggy’s expression changes immediately, sharp and obviously offended “Don’t say that.”

You blink at the sudden tone.

“I mean it.” he says “Don’t call yourself that.”

“…Sorry.”

“Tch.”

He stands up fast and pulls you with him.

Before you can react, his arms wrap around you tightly, not graceful and not elegant at all, just very Buggy style.

“You’re an idiot sometimes.” he mutters against your hair.

“You say that lovingly.”

“I say it truthfully.”

You relax slowly against him.

His chin rests on your head.

Outside, thunder cracks loudly.

Buggy squeezes you once more and then he pulls back enough to look at your face “You done being dramatic now?”

“You’re literally hugging me.”

“That’s unrelated.”

You snort softly.

His eyes flick down to your mouth for one quick second, then away immediately.

“…What?” you ask.

“Nothing.,,”

“You made a face.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

Buggy groans like this is exhausting, then suddenly grabs your jaw dramatically and say “Fine! Since you clearly require attention—”

He kisses you, fast at first, almost clumsy. Then softer when you lean closer. 

His gloves brush your cheeks carefully.

You melt a little against him.

Buggy huffs quietly into the kiss.

When he pulls away, his face is slightly red under the makeup.

“You better not get all emotional about that now.” he says immediately.

“Too late.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

You grin.

Buggy rolls his eyes dramatically, but he kisses your forehead anyway before pulling you back against his chest.

── .✦ Mihawk:

tags: established relationship, chronic pain, guilt, comfort, quiet intimacy, soft mihawk, domestic moments, emotional hurt/comfort

The knife slips from your fingers again.

It doesn't fall far, it falls onto the wooden table with a dull clack and your shoulders tense instantly.

You stare at your numb hand… again.

The feeling comes and goes every day. Sometimes it burns. Sometimes your fingers feel heavy like stone. Sometimes you cannot even tell if you're holding something until it drops.

Today is one of the bad days.

You flex your hand slowly “Damn it…”

Across the kitchen, Dracule Mihawk looks up from the book in his hand.

His eyes move from your face to the knife “You are pushing yourself again.”

“I’m fine.”

“You dropped it three times.”

You hate that he notices everything.

You grab the knife again before he can stand up “I said I’m fine.”

Mihawk closes his book with one quiet motion.

The sound alone makes you nervous.

Not because he's angry, Mihawk rarely raises his voice and that almost makes it worse somehow. His silence always sees too much.

He walks toward you slowly “Give me the knife.”

“I can still cut vegetables.”

“You can barely hold the handle.”

Your jaw tightens “I’m trying to help.”

“And I didn’t say otherwise.”

“But you’re doing everything lately.”

“That’s incorrect.”

“You know what I mean.”

Mihawk studies your face for a long moment, in a calm and sharp way “You're in pain today.”

You look away first “…It’s not worse than normal.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The numbness crawls higher into your wrist. You hate it and so you hate your own body. Hate the stupid weakness in your fingers. You used to fight beside him. Not at his level, obviously, nobody is at his level, but enough to stand proudly beside him.

Now even holding a teacup too long hurts.

You laugh quietly, bitterly “Some good partner I am.”

Mihawk’s expression changes slightly but enough that most people would miss it… you don’t.

“You think your worth depends on what you can carry with your hands?”

“It should depend on something.”

“It does.”

“Like what?”

“You're here.”

You blink “That’s not enough.”

“For you, maybe.”

“Mihawk…”

“You speak as though I chose you for labor.”

His voice stays even, deep and calm.

“But I can’t fight properly anymore.”

“You still can.”

“Not like before.”

“No,” he agrees immediately “not like before.”

The honesty hurts more than pity would.

You pull your hand back against your chest “See?”

Mihawk sighs softly through his nose.

“You continue to measure yourself against impossible standards.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

That actually earns the faintest look of amusement.

“Yes. Perhaps.”

You lean against the counter, exhausted already.

“I just…” You swallow hard “I hate needing help.”

“You have needed help since the day we met.”

The memory flashes immediately. You trying to hide shaking hands while wrapping a wound. Mihawk silently taking the bandages from you without a word. The first time he held a cup near your lips because your fingers stopped cooperating halfway through dinner.

He always knew. Always.

And somehow that makes the guilt worse.

“I thought maybe if I worked harder…” you mumble.

“To accomplish what?”

“To stop being a burden.”

Silence.

You shouldn't have said that.

Mihawk steps closer.

His voice lowers “Never say that about yourself again.”

The words are quiet, but firm enough to cut stone.

You stare at him.

“You think caring for you is a burden?”

“I mean—”

“You think I am forced into it?”

“No…”

“Then don't insult my choices.”

You look down quickly “…Sorry.”

Another silence.

Then you feel leather gloves brush lightly against your wrist.

Mihawk lifts your hand carefully, like he already knows exactly where it hurts.

“Where is the numbness?”

“Mostly fingers. Wrist too.”

“And pain?”

“Everywhere.”

“Hm.”

You almost laugh tiredly “Very helpful answer, I know.”

“It's accurate.”

His thumb presses lightly against your palm. Testing.

You flinch and his eyes narrow immediately and he asks “That bad?”

“It’ll pass.”

“You say that often.”

Because it usually does… sometimes.

You watch him remove his gloves one finger at a time before setting them aside.

Then he reaches for the kettle.

“I can still make tea myself.”

“I'm aware.”

“Then why are you—”

“Sit down.”

“…You sound like a doctor.”

“You would ignore one of those as well.”

You mutter something under your breath.

“I heard that.”

“I know.”

You finally sit at the table while Mihawk moves around the kitchen with smooth, easy motions. Precise and controlled like always.

He never rushes.

“You don’t get annoyed?” you ask quietly.

“At what?”

“At me struggling all the time.”

“No.”

“But doesn’t it get tiring?”

Mihawk pours hot water into a cup “Yes.”

Your chest sinks immediately.

Then he continues calmly “Pain is tiring. Watching someone you care for hurt is tiring. That doesn't mean I resent you.”

You stare at the table “I can’t even hold my sword properly some days.”

“You're grieving.”

The words hit harder than expected “What?”

“You speak as though you lost nothing.”

Mihawk sets the cup in front of you carefully.

“But you did.”

You look up slowly.

“You lost ease. Strength. Freedom. Certainty in your own body.” His gaze stays on you “Yet you expect yourself to feel nothing about it.”

Your throat tightens painfully.

Nobody says things like that to you.

Most people tell you to stay positive, to try harder or to be grateful it isn't worse.

Mihawk never lies to make things easier, and somehow that comforts you more.

“I’m tired…” you admit quietly.

“I know.”

“I hate feeling useless.”

“You aren't useless.”

“I can’t even help around the castle without messing up.”

“You help me every day.”

“How?”

“You listen.”

You blink.

“You stay.”

Another answer comes before you can speak.

“You make this place feel inhabited instead of empty.”

Your face warms immediately “Mihawk…”

“And,” he says calmly, “your presence discourages idiots from interrupting my evenings.”

You laugh despite yourself “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The romantic talk.”

A faint smirk touches his mouth “Don’t become spoiled now.”

You wrap your hands carefully around the warm cup. Heat helps sometimes.

MMihawk watches your grip for a moment, then he asks“Have you practiced the stretches I showed you?”

“…Sometimes.”

“You forgot.”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am.”

You groan softly “I knew you were going to say that.”

“You injure yourself further by ignoring limits.”

“I’m trying not to have limits.”

“That's foolish.”

You glare at him weakly “You’re supposed to encourage me.”

“I am encouraging you… to use your brain.”

You snort into your tea.

The room grows quieter after that, but a comfortable quiet. Rain taps lightly against the castle windows.

Mihawk sits across from you again with his wine.

You watch him for a while.

“How are you so patient with me?”

“I’m not patient.”

“You are with me.”

“That’s different.”

The answer comes too fast to be accidental.

Something soft pulls painfully in your chest.

You look at your hands again “They’re ugly lately.”

Mihawk immediately looks irritated “Your hands.”

“The swelling’s worse.”

“They’re hands.”

“You know what I mean.”

“They’re yours.”

He says it like that settles everything and maybe to him, it does.

You laugh quietly again “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you remain here.”

“Unfortunately.”

“How tragic.”

You smile into your tea.

Then the numbness suddenly spikes sharply through your fingers.

You hiss softly.

Mihawk is beside you immediately and says “Show me.”

“It’s fine.”

“Show me.”

You hold out your hand reluctantly.

He takes it carefully between both of his larger hands.

His thumbs move slowly across your knuckles, with a gentle pressure.

“You should rest.”

“I rested yesterday.”

“You rested poorly yesterday.”

“…You notice too much.”

“Yes.”

His fingers continue massaging your hand slowly and it kinda helps, but not enough to remove the pain completely. Nothing ever does. But at least it’s enough to loosen the tightness in your chest.

“You know,” you mumble, “most people would leave.”

Mihawk looks genuinely unimpressed “I’m not most people.”

“I know.”

“Then stop speaking as though I’m temporary.”

Your eyes sting unexpectedly.

That’s the problem with him. Mihawk doesn’t speak gently often, or at least not so obvious, but when he does, every word lands directly inside your ribs.

You look at him quietly. At the sharp golden eyes, at his calm face… at the man feared across entire seas sitting here massaging your aching hands without complaint.

“You really don’t mind?”

“No.”

“Even when I can’t do things?”

“Yes.”

“Even when I get frustrated?”

“I expect it.”

“Even when I’m difficult?”

One eyebrow lifts slightly “You’re frequently difficult.”

You gasp softly in fake offense.

“But yes.”

You shake your head with a tiny laugh.

“You’re terrible at comfort.”

“And yet you’re calmer now.”

“…Damn it.”

That tiny almost-smile appears again.

Victory.

You stare at him for another quiet moment before speaking softly.

“Thank you.”

Mihawk pauses, then he nods once “You don’t need to thank me for loving you.”

Your breath catches immediately, because he just said it so simply, like it’s a fact. No embarrassment and no hesitation, and that makes it feel even more real.

You stand slowly from the chair.

Mihawk watches you carefully in case your hands fail again.

But instead, you step closer until you are standing between his knees.

His gaze lifts toward you “What are you doing?”

“You said something nice.”

“A rare mistake.”

“So I’m rewarding you.”

“Hm.”

You place your hands lightly against his chest and he just lets you.

Then you lean down and kiss him softly and slowly.

Mihawk goes still for half a second before one hand settles against your waist.

His thumb brushes once against your side while he kisses you back with quiet restraint, controlled like everything else about him… but warm… always warmer than people expect.

When you pull back, he looks at you silently for a moment.

Then he says “You’re smiling.”

“You noticed?”

“I notice everything.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth quickly this time and tell him “That’s annoying.”

“And yet,” he murmurs, eyes softer now, “you continue to stay.”

── .✦ Law:

tags: established relationship, chronic pain, guilt, comfort, soft law, domestic moments, emotional hurt/comfort

Your hands hurt.

Not enough to stop functioning completely and not enough to count as an emergency. 

Just enough to make every small thing irritating and exhausting and humiliating if you think about it too long.

Today, unfortunately, you keep thinking about it.

You stand in the kitchen of the Polar Tang staring at the container in your hands, jaw tight as you try twisting the lid open again.

Nothing.

Your fingers slip as pain sparks through your wrist.

You grit your teeth and try again anyway, but the lid doesn’t move.

God, this is stupid.

Behind you, the crew is loud as usual… Shachi laughing too hard at his own joke, Penguin arguing back, Bepo trying unsuccessfully to calm them down before Law inevitably tells everyone to shut up.

Normal.

Everything feels normal except for you.

You finally force the lid open using the edge of the counter, but the motion sends a sharp ache through your palm that makes you hiss quietly.

And for some reason, the fact that something this easy has to become a whole ordeal every single time, makes your chest feel tight suddenly.

You set the container down harder than intended and stare at your hands.

The numbness comes in waves today. 

Fingertips tingling, grip weakening without warning, joints stiff and sore like your body is punishing you for existing in it.

You hate it and you hate that everyone else can move without thinking about it.

You hate that you have to calculate every little task.

You hate needing help.

Most of all, you hate that you’re used to it now.

“You’re glaring at the counter.”

Law’s voice makes you jump slightly.

You look over your shoulder.

He stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, expression unreadable beneath the brim of his hat.

“…I’m fine.” you say automatically.

“Hm.”

That hum means liar.

He watches you for another second before his eyes drop to your hands.

Your fingers curl instinctively.

Law notices that too, of course “You’re hurting.”

It isn’t a question.

You look away “It’s manageable.”

“That bad, then.”

“I said manageable.”

“And I said that’s bad.”

His voice stays calm, flat, irritatingly perceptive.

You exhale sharply through your nose and lean back against the counter “I’m just tired today.”

Law walks into the kitchen quietly, stopping in front of you “Tired physically or mentally?”

You laugh once without humor “Guess.”

His gaze stays on you long enough that your throat starts tightening.

You hate that he can read you this easily and you hate that part of you is relieved by it too.

“I can’t do anything right today.” you mutter finally.

“That’s not true.”

“I almost lost grip on my weapon yesterday.”

“You still hit your target.”

“Ikkaku had to finish maintenance for me.”

“Because your hands were locking up.”

“I can’t even open containers normally half the time…”

“So?”

The word catches you off guard.

You blink at him.

Law’s expression barely changes, but there’s something firmer in his tone now.

“So,” he repeats, “you adapt. Or someone helps you. That’s not a moral failure.”

“It feels like one.”

Silence settles heavily between you while the submarine hums around you softly.

You stare at your hands again.

“I just feel useless sometimes…” you admit quietly “everyone else contributes so much more than me.”

Law’s eyes narrow slightly “You think your value to this crew depends entirely on physical ability?”

“No, but—”

“No,” he interrupts flatly “you don’t get to ‘but’ your way out of this one.”

Despite yourself, your mouth twitches weakly.

Law steps closer.

“You help Bepo study navigation routes because he gets overwhelmed reading maps.” he says “You reorganized the medical storage because none of these idiots know how to put things back correctly. You stay up repairing clothes and equipment even when your hands hurt.”

“That’s small stuff.”

“It still matters.”

You swallow hard “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Law goes quiet, then he sighs softly through his nose and reaches for your hands “Give me these.”

You let him take them without protest.

His fingers are warm around yours, steady and careful as he turns your hands over in his grip. He presses gently along your palms and wrists, thumbs working against the sore muscles like he already knows exactly where it hurts most.

Because he does know… he always does.

“You’ve been overusing them.” he mutters.

“I know.”

“You compensate when they start going numb.” His thumbs press into the base of your palm, easing some of the ache immediately “That strains everything else.”

You watch his face while he works, focused and quiet. Slightly annoyed in the way he always gets when he cares too much about something.

“You notice everything.” you mumble.

“I’m a doctor and captain.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Hm.”

The corner of his mouth twitches faintly.

Your chest aches but not in a bad way.

You suddenly feel exhausted all over again.

“I hate this…” you whisper.

Law’s hands still for half a second “I know.”

The simple honesty in it almost breaks you.

No forced positivity and no pretending it’s easy. Just understanding.

Your eyes sting embarrassingly fast.

Law notices immediately, because of course he does.

“You’re thinking too much again.” he says quietly.

“I can’t help it.”

“You can.” his thumbs resume their slow movements against your hands “You just don’t know how to stop.”

You laugh weakly “Amazing diagnosis, doctor.”

“I’m very talented.”

That actually earns a real laugh from you this time, and there it is that tiny shift in his expression when he hears it, small enough most people would miss it entirely.

You don’t, you know Law too well for that.

Warmth blooms slowly in your chest, soft and aching and without thinking too hard about it, you step closer and reach up to grab his face.

Your fingers fumble slightly against his cheeks from the numbness.

Law lets you reposition your hands without a single complaint.

Then you kiss him right on the mouth, slow and warm.

He exhales softly through his nose, surprised for only a second before one hand slides automatically to your waist.

When you pull back, you kiss his cheek… then under his eye, then the corner of his jaw.

“You’re being weird.” he mutters.

“You’re nice to me.”

“I’m literally treating your symptoms.”

“You’re holding me.”

“That’s unrelated.”

You laugh quietly against his skin before kissing his forehead.

Law sighs like you are personally exhausting him, but his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

“You know,” you murmur between kisses, “you’re really bad at pretending you don’t like affection.”

“I don’t like affection.”

“Mhm, sure.”

You kiss his nose. Then beneath his lip. Then his temple.

Law’s ears start turning faintly pink beneath the brim of his hat.

Victory.

“You’re annoying.” he grumbles.

“But you love me.”

He goes silent for one fatal second too long, making you grin immediately.

“There it is.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

You kiss him again before he can argue further, softer this time, lingering long enough to feel the way he melts despite himself.

Law’s hand slides from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers warm against your skin.

When you pull away again, he rests his forehead lightly against yours with a quiet sigh.

“You done?” he asks.

“Not even close.”

He gives you a deeply unimpressed look that loses all effectiveness when you kiss both his cheeks in quick succession.

“You’re clingy now.”

“I’m having a bad day and you’re my cure.”

“Hm.”

That stupid soft hum again.

You smile a little and then you say softly “You know? You’re a good doctor and a good captain… but you’re also a perfect partner. I love you a lot.”

Law rubs his thumb slowly along the side of your neck while looking at you with that quiet, intense focus he gets sometimes, the one that always feels like he’s paying attention to every tiny detail about you at once.

“Then… for that, don’t forget you don’t have to prove you’re useful to deserve being here.” he says quietly.

Your chest tightens.

Even now, hearing that from him feels overwhelming.

You lean forward and kiss him one more time, gentler now.

Law lets you… of course he does.

Then, after a second, he presses a small kiss back against your mouth so quickly you almost think you imagined it.

“…Don’t look so smug.” he mutters immediately.

People begin drifting away in groups, leaning on each other after nights filled with too much food, too much alcohol and too many emotions.

Luffy falls asleep face-first into a pile of empty plates. Usopp and Chopper collapse nearby leaning into each other. Brook somehow continues playing music despite clearly not being fully conscious anymore.

You stay awake with Zoro’s words that won’t leave your head.

You two just need to make it official.

Simple for him to say…

You see Law watching you again at some point during the night.

And this time, your decision settles inside your chest.

There’s one thing you need first, before starting something new… closure.

The Thousand Sunny is quiet in the early morning.

Most of the crew is still asleep in scattered places around the deck.

You find Luffy awake, ready for breakfast.

He’s sitting cross-legged at the figurehead with meat in his hand despite the unreasonable amount of food he consumed only a few hours ago.

You sit beside him quietly then you murmur softly “I’m thinking too loud again?”

Luffy grins immediately “Yep.”

You laugh softly.

The silence between you is familiar and somehow that makes this harder.

You stare into the void for a long moment before finally speaking “…Luffy.”

“Hm?”

“If I…” your throat tightens unexpectedly “if I decided to leave with Law…”

You force yourself to continue “…would you be angry?”

Luffy doesn’t even hesitate “Nope.”

Immediate and certain, like the answer was obvious.

You blink, startled by how fast it came “That’s it?”

“Hm?” he tilts his head at you like you’re the strange one here “Why would I be angry?”

“Well, because I’d be leaving the crew and—”

“You’re family.”

He says it so simply that it almost knocks the breath out of you.

Luffy tears another bite of meat with complete ease while continuing “And family should do whatever makes them happiest.”

Your eyes sting immediately.

Damn him for making it sound so easy.

Luffy finally looks at you properly then, grin softer now “When we met you said you were looking for someone. You were determined and so I knew your journey with us wouldn't be long. I knew you liked Torao since then.”

You nearly choke “You WHAT?”

“Huh? It was obvious.”

“TO WHO?!”

“To everyone.”

You cover your face with your hands in horror while Luffy laughs loudly.

Then he says “When he was hurt, you forgot about everything else.”

Your chest tightens painfully.

He shrugs and jokingly adds “We all saw that scene. It was embarrassing!”

A laugh escapes you despite the tears threatening your eyes “That’s rich coming from you.”

“I know!” he says proudly.

Silence settles again after that.

Then Luffy suddenly leans back on his hands and grins “I don’t care where you go.”

Your breath stills slightly.

“As long as you’re smiling when you get there.”

That breaks you.

Only Luffy could say something so simple and somehow make it feel heavier than any speech in the world.

You wipe quickly at your eyes before they can fully betray you “…You’re really okay with this?”

Luffy looks genuinely confused now “You’ll still be you.”

Like that answers everything and somehow… it does.

Word spreads faster than you expected after that.

Not because Luffy tells everyone directly… he absolutely screams it when everyone arrives at breakfast “OI EVERYONE!! Y/N MIGHT GO LIVE WITH TORAO!!”

Chaos erupts instantly.

“WHAT?!” Nami nearly drops her tea.

Sanji freezes so dramatically it looks like his soul leaves his body. Chopper bursts into tears immediately. Usopp starts yelling about betrayal. Brook politely asks if this means Law is courting you. Franky calls the entire situation SUPER romantic. Robin and Jinbe just smile knowingly over their cups.

And Zoro, half asleep nearby, mutters “Finally.”

You want the floor to swallow you whole, but beneath the chaos, there’s love there… so much love that it hurts.

Nami is the first one to actually pull you into a hug later, squeezing you tightly enough to make your ribs ache.

“I hate this!” she mutters against your shoulder “I’m happy for you, but I hate this.”

You laugh shakily “…Sorry.”

“We better meet again.”

“We will.”

“Soon.”

“Yes, captain.”

Chopper cries even harder somehow “But who’s gonna come with me when I pick herbs?!”

“I'm sure someone here can help with that.” you protest weakly.

“IT WON’T BE THE SAME!”

Sanji… is devastated for entirely Sanji reasons.

“Tra-guy stole my beautiful woman from this crew.” he mourns dramatically while clutching his chest “First my dignity, now my heart…”

“You never had dignity.” Zoro comments.

A fight immediately starts.

You laugh through tears you can’t stop anymore.

The worst part is realizing they would never ask you to stay if staying meant sacrificing your happiness.

Later that day, you stand quietly at the edge of the deck watching the sea.

Your chest feels unbearably full.

Loved, terrified, heartbroken and hopeful, all at once.

But then a loud and messy sound catches your attention.

The Heart Pirates.

You lean lightly against the railing, watching them from afar.

They’re preparing for departure or at least trying to.

Penguin is yelling at Shachi for dropping supplies into the water. Bepo is attempting to organize things while simultaneously apologizing to everyone for reasons completely unrelated to the current disaster.

Someone’s arguing about food portions. Someone else is definitely stealing ingredients directly from the crates.

It’s complete chaos.

And right in the middle of it all stands Law, arms crossed over his chest, clearly supervising and clearly regretting every life decision that led him to managing these idiots.

You smile before you can stop yourself and as if sensing it, Law glances up, his eyes meet yours immediately.

And just like that, the noise around you fades a little.

You smile at him properly this time, then you push yourself away from the railing and head toward him.

Halfway there, your heartbeat starts picking up from anticipation.

Because despite everything, neither of you has actually said out loud what happens now.

You stop a few steps away from him while the Heart Pirates continue their chaos in the background completely oblivious.

Law turns fully toward you, gaze immediately softer than it is with anyone else.

If he won’t ask, then I will.

You inhale once, then you walk closer with a smile.

“…Is there any space left,” you ask carefully, “for a new crew member?”

For a moment, Law just stares at you completely still.

His eyes widen in shock.

The noise around him seems to disappear.

Then, slowly, you see him breathe again, some of the tension leaves his shoulders and he nods “Yeah.”

Then, after the smallest pause “Do you need help with your things?”

Relief crashes into you so suddenly you almost laugh, because some stubborn, insecure part of you had still been afraid he’d tell you to think about it more and that you had misunderstood everything.

Your smile widens before you can hide it, and you nod quickly.

Law turns immediately toward the Sunny, and before you can even answer properly, he’s already walking toward the ship.

“Hey—wait for me!” you hurry after him with a laugh slipping out of you.

Once aboard the Sunny, Law’s steps slow slightly.

His gaze flicks around the empty deck with visible caution.

You notice immediately and a soft laugh escapes you.

“No worries,” you reassure him “most of them are in town getting supplies.”

Law stops mid-step and glances at you “…Most?”

You nod innocently.

Before you can elaborate, footsteps echo down the corridor nearby and both of you turn instinctively.

Zoro emerges half-awake from around the corner, hair even messier than usual, one hand scratching lazily at the back of his neck.

His eyes land on you first, then Law.

There’s a brief pause, then he simply says “Oi.”

It’s barely even a greeting, then he walks straight past the two of you without another word.

You grin faintly as you watch him disappear toward the kitchen.

“He’s the only one who stayed behind to sleep,” you explain “guess he just woke up.”

Law hums quietly, though you don’t miss the slight easing in his shoulders.

Your room feels strangely small once the two of you step inside together.

Law closes the door quietly behind him while you start gathering your things, and for a while, neither of you says much.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable anymore, just soft.

Law picks up items carefully, handing them to you or folding them with far more precision than you ever do.

Then his gaze catches on something resting near your shelf.

A small and kinda weird plushie.

“…What’s this?” he asks.

You glance over and immediately smile “Oh.”

You walk closer, taking it gently from his hands “That was from Chopper.”

Your thumb brushes over it fondly “He gave it to me after I got sick once because he was convinced I’d ‘recover faster emotionally’ if I had something cute nearby.”

A soft laugh escapes you at the memory “He checked my temperature every hour for three days straight.”

Law’s expression shifts faintly, almost amused.

You continue packing slowly after that, and with every object he picks up, another story follows naturally.

A broken hairpin Nami insisted matched your outfit perfectly: “She threatened to charge me interest when I lost it the first time.”

A tiny handmade charm from Usopp: “He claimed it protects against sea monsters.”

“…Does it?” Law asks dryly.

“No.”

“Hm.”

A pressed flower Robin left inside one of your books months ago without explanation: “I once said I needed a bookmark and the next morning I found it inside the book.”

Even Law seems quieter with every story, like he’s carefully learning some of the pieces of the life that shaped you while he was gone.

Then his gaze falls toward something hanging near the edge of your desk. A strip of fabric, old but preserved carefully.

You notice immediately and your expression softens “…That one’s from Luffy.”

Your fingers close around it gently “He tore part of his sleeve when we met and tied it around my arm because I got hurt during a fight with some marines.”

You smile faintly at the memory “He looked at me afterward and said: ‘There. Now everyone knows you’re one of us.’ and I barely knew his name.”

Silence settles softly after that.

Law watches you carefully… 

And as the sunset light spills warmly across the room, illuminating half-packed belongings and much love left behind, Law reaches for another object quietly.

Ready to listen to the next story too.

By the time the sun dips lower over Wano, your room is almost empty.

You finish sealing the last box with a tired sigh while Law straightens beside the door.

Then you immediately recognize the look in his eyes as he takes one hand forward… the “I’m about to use my powers and ignore every medical warning” pose.

Your eyes narrow instantly “Don’t.”

Law pauses mid-motion “…Don’t what?”

“You know exactly what.”

A faint look of guilt flashes across his face for approximately half a second before disappearing behind neutrality again “I was just going to make this faster.”

“With powers you absolutely should not be using yet.”

“I’m fine.”

“Not anymore if you’re gonna do all this.”

“I will.”

“You won't. Shut up.”

He goes quiet after that.

You point toward one of the smaller boxes near the door “You carry that one.”

His gaze drops toward the lighter box, then back to you slowly “…You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

“You’re lucky I’m letting you carry anything at all.”

Law stares at you for another second before miraculously accepting defeat without argument.

Honestly, that alone tells you how exhausted he still is.

He bends to pick up the smaller box while you grab one almost twice the size.

Immediately, his expression darkens slightly “…Why is yours heavier?”

“Because I packed like an idiot and because I'm not still recovering from a deadly battle.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don't care.”

You walk out first before he can protest further, smiling faintly to yourself when you hear his quiet sigh behind you.

Penguin blinks shocked as soon as he sees you. Then his entire face lights up so brightly it’s almost blinding.

“CAPTAIN—”

“Don’t start.” Law warns immediately.

“GUYS!” Shachi yells loudly enough for the entire dock to hear “SHE’S MOVING IN!”

Absolute chaos erupts instantly.

Before you can even react, several Heart Pirates rush forward at once.

“Give me that!”

“You shouldn’t carry the heavy ones!”

“Captain, why are you carrying stuff?!”

“Wait, does this mean she’s officially joining?!”

Law visibly regrets being alive.

And then, as if perfectly timed by fate itself, the Straw Hats return from town.

Luffy spots you first, then the boxes and then Law.

His grin widens instantly “OHHHH!! It’s happening!!”

You barely have time to process before the crew rush in your old room.

Nami immediately grabs two boxes before you can stop her.

Sanji appears at your side so fast it’s genuinely terrifying.

“My lady should never carry luggage during such an emotional moment—!”

“Stop flirting and grab the other side!” Usopp complains while struggling under the weight of another box.

Chopper is openly crying again while carrying something almost bigger than himself “It’s okay because she’s happy but I’m still sad about it!!”

You laugh helplessly, overwhelmed almost instantly, because nobody asks questions, nobody hesitates and nobody tries convincing you to stay.

They just help… smiling, laughing, teasing and crying a little.

And through all of it you notice Law standing slightly apart for a moment, holding that same small box while watching the chaos unfold around him.

Watching the strawhats helping you leave them… with love.

Luffy eventually slings one arm dramatically around your shoulders while pointing at Law with the other “You better take care of her, Torao!”

Law looks unimpressed immediately “I don’t need you telling me that.”

“Good! Because I was gonna say it anyway!”

You laugh so hard your chest hurts and suddenly the sadness of goodbye feels different… no longer tragic, because this isn’t losing a family, it's carrying their love somewhere new.

Back and forth everyone goes between the Sunny and the Polar Tang.

Your old home and your new one blending together in loud chaos and overlapping voices.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, while Sanji and Shachi argue over the correct way to carry fragile boxes and Bepo apologizes for bumping into literally everyone, you catch Law looking at you again.

Like he’s still trying to process the fact that you really chose this… that you chose him.

And when you smile at him… he finally smiles too… always his small and subtle smile but you can see it and it's enough for you. 

Goodbyes hurt most when they’re filled with love instead of regret. (Quote found on Google <3)

By the time the last box is into the Polar Tang, the sky above Wano has turned deep gold and amber.

It’s time to leave.

You stand near the edge of the dock for a long moment, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands. 

The Strawhats gather around you naturally, no one really saying it out loud but everyone understanding that this is the moment.

Nami is the first one to step forward.

She pulls you into another tight hug immediately, squeezing you hard enough that you let out a startled laugh.

“You better not disappear without visiting,” she mutters against your shoulder “or I’ll personally come drag you back.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” you repeat softly, smiling despite the sting in your eyes.

Robin hugs you next, calm and warm and grounding in that uniquely Robin way.

“We’ll see each other again soon.” she says gently.

Chopper is already crying before he even reaches you. He crashes into your arms dramatically, sobbing into your shoulder while clutching onto you with all his strength.

“I don’t WANT you to go but I WANT you to be happy but I STILL DON’T WANT YOU TO GO!!”

Your chest aches so badly you almost laugh through it “I’m not dying, Chopper.”

“That’s NOT THE POINT!!”

Usopp wipes suspiciously wet eyes while pretending he absolutely is not emotional.

“You better tell your new crew that if they mess with you, the great Captain Usopp will hunt them down personally.”

“Terrifying…” Law comments dryly from nearby.

Usopp jumps “I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU.”

Franky pulls you into an enormous hug next that nearly cracks your spine “You’re always SUPER family, got it?!”

“Can’t… breathe…”

“THAT’S HOW YOU KNOW IT’S SINCERE!”

Brook bows politely before taking your hand “I wish you great happiness on your new journey, my dear.”

Then, after a pause “Though if you ever wish to leave Trafalgar-san and return to us, I remain available—”

“BROOK.” Nami screams pushing hik away from you.

“YOHOHOHO—”

And Sanji… Sanji is a complete disaster.

He falls dramatically to his knees before you like the world itself has betrayed him personally.

“Why him?!” he cries toward the heavens “What does that gloomy surgeon have that I don’t?!”

“Basic emotional restraint.” Zoro answers immediately from nearby.

Sanji whirls toward him with murder in his eyes “SHUT UP, MARIMO.”

You laugh helplessly while Sanji clings dramatically to your hand like a tragic widower.

“My dear, if he ever makes you unhappy, even once, I’ll—”

“He won’t.” you interrupt softly before you can stop yourself.

The words slip out naturally and certain, and from the corner of your eye, you catch Law going still.

Sanji's expression immediately crumples further.

“She already believes in him completely…” he whispers in devastation “I’ve truly lost…”

“You never had a chance to begin with.” Zoro says.

“COME HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN.”

The verbal fight explodes instantly.

Sanji starts yelling while Zoro insults him back without even lifting his head properly.

Sanji calls him emotionally constipated and Zoro asks why Sanji’s been crying for three days straight because “some girl picked another guy.”

“I AM GRIEVING.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I SAW YOU HUGGED HER TOO, YOU HYPOCRITE.”

And with this, all the attention shifts toward Zoro as he clicks his tongue in annoyance immediately “That wasn’t the same thing.”

“Oh?!” Sanji points accusingly “Then why’d you let her hug you without complaining?!”

“Because unlike you, I know how to shut up once in a while.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“It makes more sense than your eyebrows.”

You’re laughing openly now, hand over your mouth while the two continue spiraling into chaos.

And eventually, through your tears and laughter, you walk toward Zoro yourself.

He notices immediately “…What do you want?”

You don’t answer, you just hug him.

Zoro freezes exactly like last time.

Sanji gasps dramatically like he’s witnessing betrayal in real time “LOOK AT HIM ACCEPTING IT!”

“I’m not accepting anything.”

“You literally are.”

“I’m tolerating it.”

“That’s WORSE FROM YOU.”

Zoro still doesn’t hug back but he lets you stay there quietly for a few seconds anyway.

And when you finally pull away, his expression softens just slightly beneath the annoyance.

“…Take care of yourself.”

Simple words, but from Zoro, they mean everything.

Your smile turns smaller and softer “You too.”

Nearby, Law watches the entire scene with visible irritation, but not because of you hugging Zoro… mostly because Sanji has now started loudly including him in the argument.

“This is YOUR FAULT, TRA-GUY.”

Law sighs tiredly “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“SEE? LOOK HOW COLD HE IS.”

“She chose him anyway.” Zoro says lazily.

Sanji collapses spiritually for the fiftieth time that week.

Eventually, though, even chaos has to end.

The strawhats slowly begin boarding again, laughter quieter now beneath the emotions none of them are particularly good at hiding.

Luffy is the last one to climb aboard.

He stops at the edge of the ship, grinning widely at you beneath the evening sky.

“Be happy, okay?” he shouts.

Your throat tightens instantly “I will!”

The Sunny begins pulling away slowly from the docks and suddenly everyone is waving at once.

Chopper is openly sobbing again while waving both arms frantically.

Nami’s eyes are suspiciously watery despite her attempts to stay composed.

Usopp is yelling something dramatic about unforgettable adventures.

Franky shouts promises about future reunions.

Brook watches the scene with his usual fake calm.

Sanji is still crying loud enough for the entire ocean to hear.

Robin lifts her hand toward you with that same gentle smile.

Zoro simply raises one hand lazily from where he leans against the railing.

Goodbye.

You wave back until your arm aches.

Tears blur your vision almost immediately, but you’re smiling too hard to care.

The Thousand Sunny grows smaller against the horizon little by little, carrying away the people who changed your life forever in not even a big time.

A warm hand brushes quietly against yours.

Law stands beside you now, silent, not interrupting your goodbye and not pulling you away from it.

Just there waiting for you when you’re ready to turn toward the future.

It comes back in pieces: the dull ache in his chest, the weight of his own body refusing to move, the distant murmur of voices layered over one another. The smell of medicine. 

And then memory hits… the fight, Big Mom, the last attack… and you.

His eyes snap open “Where is she?”

The Heart Pirates freeze.

“Captain, you need to—” Bepo starts, gently trying to press him back down.

Law pushes himself up anyway, ignoring the way his body protests, the way pain shoots through him like lightning.

“Where is y/n?” he repeats, louder this time, voice edged with something dangerously close to panic.

The room shifts.

Shachi and Penguin exchange a glance. Ikkaku pauses mid-motion.

No one answers immediately, so Law’s chest tightens.

His mind moves faster than his body can keep up. His grip tightens on the edge of the bed.

“…What happened?” his voice drops, lower now, more dangerous “Where is she?”

“Captain…” Penguin starts again, stepping forward this time.

“She’s fine.” Bepo adds quickly, trying to steady the situation before it goes too further.

A quiet understanding passes through the crew and without a word, they begin to move, opening a narrow path through the room.

And then he sees you in the far corner, half-hidden by shadow and dim light, there’s a small, worn armchair.

You’re curled into it, head tilted slightly to the side, breathing slow and deep. Asleep.

Bandages wrap around your arms, your shoulder, your side.

Alive.

Law’s entire body stills and then exhales slowly and shaky.

“She fell asleep a few minutes ago.” Shachi says, a little too loudly, trying to fill the silence “Refused treatment at first, of course. Stubborn as hell.”

Your eyes snap open and you jolt upright in the chair, disoriented for half a second before your gaze locks onto him “Law?!”

Your voice is sharp with worry, immediate, like nothing else matters.

The room pauses… because the reaction is… exactly the same Law had earlier.

You stare at him like you’ve been holding your breath waiting for him to wake up.

He stares at you like he thought he’d lost you.

Even after everything… you’re still each other’s first thought.

Penguin presses his lips together, shoulders shaking slightly. Shachi looks like he’s about to say something, then thinks better of it. Even Bepo’s ears twitch as he tries very hard to stay serious.

No one dares laugh out loud but it’s close.

Law is the first to recover.

His expression smooths out, the panic gone, but his eyes linger on you a second longer than they should.

“You’re injured.” he says simply.

You blink at him, still half asleep “…you're the one to talk?”

The room breathes again, tension loosening just a little but it grows quieter by the minute and one by one, the others take the hint.

Shachi stretches, muttering something about checking supplies. Penguin lingers for half a second longer than necessary, glancing between you and Law before Bepo gently nudges him toward the door. Ikkaku is the last to leave, her eyes sharp, observant, but even she says nothing as she steps out and closes the door behind her.

And now it’s just the two of you.

You’re still sitting in that old armchair, bandages tugging at your skin, your body aching in ways you haven’t even processed yet.

He’s across the room, barely held together by stitches and stubbornness.

You stare at him, taking in every detail… the rise and fall of his chest, the tension still lingering in his shoulders, the way his eyes haven’t left you since you woke up.

For a moment, something soft flickers in your expression again.

Then you swallow it down and stand, slowly and carefully, ignoring the pull of your wounds.

And you turn away, towards the door. 

“…Well,” you say quietly, “now I know you’re alive…”

It sounds final, like you’re about to leave again.

“Y/N.”

His voice stops you, soft… asking.

You freeze “…Please stay.”

It’s not a demand, nor a request.

It's something vulnerable.

Your fingers curl slightly at your sides and for a second, you think about walking away anyway… about keeping things the way they’ve been… distant, controlled, safe.

But you’re so tired… of holding everything in, of pretending it doesn’t hurt, of running in circles.

So you stop and stay.

When you turn back to him, your expression is different.

“When I saw you again…” you start, voice quieter now, less steady than before, “after all those years…”

You let out a small, humorless breath “I told myself I had to shut it down. Whatever I felt. Whatever we used to be.”

Your eyes lift to his “Because, after so many years, you naturally weren’t the same.”

The words aren’t cruel, just honest “You felt like a stranger. Colder. Further away. Like everything that mattered before didn’t exist anymore. And everything was just a childhood memory.”

Law doesn’t interrupt but his gaze tightens.

“I tried to convince myself it was over.” you continue, your voice gaining strength now that it’s finally out “That whatever we had was just… something from when we were kids. Something that didn’t survive.”

You laugh softly, bitter… “But then Dressrosa happened.”

Your throat tightens “Doflamingo. Everything you went through. Everything you lost… And I saw you again. Not the you stranger. Not Captain Law. Just… you.”

A pause.

Your hands tremble slightly, but you don’t stop “And then the letters.”

You swallow “And you said that you didn’t… feel that way anymore.”

The words hurt, even now “And I believed you.”

Silence.

“So every time you got close after that,” you continue, your voice cracking slightly, “everytime you touched me, even by accident… I kept thinking ‘Don’t be stupid. Don’t want something that already let you go’.”

Your arms wrap around yourself unconsciously.

“And then Zoro… and Penguin…”

You shake your head, frustrated at the thought “They were just there. That’s it. They didn’t want anything from me. They didn’t expect anything. They just… stayed. And you turned that into something else. You said things about them—about us—like it meant something. You implied and said things I didn't like. They’re my friends. That’s all. And you made it feel like I did something wrong just for not pushing them away.”

Your breathing grows uneven but you keep going, because if you stop now, you won’t start again.

“That fight we had…”

You let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t even realize you were jealous. I just thought you were being cruel. So I left. And I kept leaving.”

Your gaze drops for a moment “…Because it was easier than staying and hearing something worse.”

Another pause, a bit longer this time.

He still hasn’t spoken.

“And during the war… I kept avoiding you. Not because I didn’t want to talk to you… But because I was scared that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop or to leave you. And I didn't want that to be our goodbye.”

You finally look at him again “And when I saw you fighting…”

Your voice breaks.

“…and I couldn’t do anything… I was just standing there. Watching. Useless. I couldn’t help. I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t—”

You stop, swallowing hard.

“I thought I was going to lose you again. And I couldn’t even be there when it happened.”

You stand there, breathing unevenly, eyes glassy.

“And I don’t know what you want from me anymore,” you finish, quieter now “but I can’t keep pretending none of this matters to me.”

And finally you stop talking, because for the first time in a long time, there’s nothing left to hide.

He doesn’t answer.

Your words still hang in the air between you, heavy and raw and impossible to take back. 

His gaze is fixed on you… shaken. Like something you said didn’t just reach him, it hit.

The silence stays too loud and that’s what breaks you.

You know that look of his. You’ve seen it before, when things get too much, when words aren’t enough, when he chooses distance over damage.

When he walks away.

Your chest tightens.

You don’t think and you don’t wait.

You turn and walk out fast. The door closes behind you harder than you meant it to.

Tears blur your vision, hot and sudden, slipping past everything you tried to hold in.

You wipe at your face angrily, but it doesn’t help.

Nothing helps.

“Y/N!”... his voice behind you.

You don’t stop, because if you do, you’ll turn around and if you turn around you know you won’t be able to leave.

You push forward, out into the open street.

The noise hits you all at once, voices, footsteps, the distant clatter of rebuilding, the aftermath of war still echoing through the island.

And then it quiets a bit when people around notice you. The Heart Pirates. A few Straw Hats. People scattered nearby.

No one says anything at first but the concern is immediate, visible in the way they shift, the way Bepo takes a step forward, the way Penguin’s expression tightens with worry while he asks softly “Hey—what happened?”

You shake your head quickly, trying to move past them, trying to disappear before anyone can ask anything you don’t have the strength to answer.

And then a familiar blur sphere expands instantly, swallowing the space around you.

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

And then — he’s there right in front of you.

Law stands between you and the path ahead, slightly bent, one hand pressed tightly against his side where his wound still hasn’t fully closed. His breathing is uneven… he shouldn’t even be standing, let alone using his ability.

Your steps halt automatically.

“Are you—” your voice breaks, frustration and worry colliding instantly “Are you serious right now? You shouldn’t be—”

“I know.” hiswords come out rough.

He straightens just slightly, enough to face you properly, even if it clearly costs him.

Around you, the crowd stays back watching, worried in silence.

Finally, he speaks “I thought… I wasn’t going to survive long enough for any of it to matter.”

His gaze flickers for a second.

“I thought cutting it off back then would make it easier. For you.”

A pause.

“It didn’t… I was wrong.”

He shifts slightly, hand pressing harder against his side, but he doesn’t stop.

“I said things… about Zoro… about Penguin.”

His jaw tightens faintly.

“They didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve that. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was… frustrated.”

A beat.

“…Jealous.”

Law’s gaze stays on you, steady now despite everything.

“I saw you with them. How easily you were around them. And I realized I don’t get that from you anymore.”

A pause. 

“I told myself it didn’t matter… but it did.”

Silence presses in around you both.

“And the fight…” he continues, quieter now, “what I said… I meant it as something else. But it came out wrong. And I’ve been doing that a lot with you.”

Your chest tightens again.

“When you avoided me… I thought you were done with me.”

The words are quiet.

“But I didn’t stop you. And that’s on me.”

His hand drops slightly from his wound, though his posture still betrays the strain.

“And during the fight…”

His gaze sharpens just a little.

“I saw you.”

A pause.

“You weren’t useless. Don't say that… because… you were the reason I didn’t stop.”

Your breath falters.

“I pushed past my limit and won because you were there.”

He holds your gaze.

“Because you were watching.”

Silence again.

Then, quieter “I’m still here because of you.”

Law exhales slowly, like he’s reached the end of something, like he’s finally said everything he didn’t know how to before.

“I handled all of this wrong. I hurt you. Repeatedly. And I didn’t fix it when I had the chance.”

His voice softens slightly “I’m not asking you to forget that. But I’m not… done.”

His eyes don’t leave yours “Not with you.”

Around you, no one moves or speaks.

“I’m not done…” he says after a long silence.

Exhaustion written all over his face, his trembling hand still half-pressed against his side. You know he’s forcing himself upright.

You know that look… Law dragging himself forward long after his body should have given up. The only difference is that this time, it isn’t for a fight… it's for you.

His knees buckle first.

“Law—” the word leaves your lips just as his body finally gives out beneath him.

He tries to resist it.

His shoulders tense, jaw clenched, pushing himself again. But he’s exhausted.

You move before anyone else can.

Your arms catch him just before he hits the ground fully, one hand gripping tightly at his coat while the other steadies his weight against you.

“Captain!”

The Heart Pirates rush forward immediately, panic breaking through the careful distance they’d been keeping. Bepo is the first to reach him, followed by Penguin and Shachi, voices overlapping in frantic concern.

“Captain, you shouldn’t even be standing!”

“Move, give him space.”

“He reopened the wound, didn’t he?!”

You instinctively step back the moment they reach him, leaving him in their hands.

This is his family, his crew… the people who belong at his side.

All you can think again is that you’re not needed here and you’ll only get in the way.

So you let go and you start to pull away.

Then something catches your wrist weakly but firmly enough to stop you completely.

You look down and see Law’s hand wrapped around your arm, trembling slightly from the effort of even lifting it. His head is lowered, breathing rough, dark hair falling messily over his tired eyes.

“…Don’t leave this time.”

His voice is barely above a whisper… exhausted and honest in a way that almost hurts to hear.

Bepo blinks rapidly, ears twitching. Penguin looks away immediately, suddenly very interested in absolutely anything else. Even Shachi freezes mid-motion, like he’s afraid breathing too loudly might interrupt something important.

Nearby, the Straw Hats pretend not to stare.

Slowly, carefully, your fingers curl around his wrist.

“…Okay.” you whisper.

And this time you stay.

The days that follow are strange. It's all quiet and heavy between you two, but tender in the way neither of you knows how to address it.

Law spends most of his time recovering, confined to bed under the ruthless supervision of his crew, who refuse to let him move more than absolutely necessary.

And somehow, without ever discussing it directly, you become part of the routine.

You stay beside him during treatments. You help change bandages when the others are busy and he wants to do it all alone.

You sit nearby during strategy talks and as they plan for their next move after he gets better. You stay quiet and thoughtful while he pretends not to glance toward you every few minutes.

And at night, when the room grows calmer and the others drift off to sleep one by one, you remain there too.

Not always speaking… but staying.

The Heart Pirates notice the way Law’s eyes soften almost imperceptibly whenever he realizes you’re still there after waking up.

The Straw Hats notice the way you spend more time with him than with them… they all know what's coming. 

No one says anything.

Mostly because no one knows what to say.

It’s awkward sometimes.

One evening, while Chopper is aggressively lecturing Law about recovery for the third time that day, Luffy wanders into the room eating meat loudly.

He looks between you and Law and grins “So? You guys finally stopped being weird?”

The room immediately falls silent.

For the first time in a long time, the tension cracks slightly.

Wano celebrates loudly.

Music echoes through the Flower Capital long into the night, shamisen melodies blending with drunken laughter, stomping feet, clinking cups, and voices raised loudly.

Lanterns glow warmly above crowded streets while people dance without fear for the first time in years.

You should be happy too…and you are.

Watching Luffy stuff his face while Usopp screams at him for stealing food off everyone else’s plates. Watching Chopper being passed around and praised until he nearly faints from embarrassment. Watching Sanji cry over every woman complimenting his cooking while Brook somehow makes everything worse.

Your crew feels alive in a way that almost hurts to look at.

And nearby, the Heart Pirates are just as chaotic in their own strange way. Penguin and Shachi are already drunk enough to start loudly recounting exaggerated versions of the raid while Bepo desperately tries to stop them from embarrassing the crew further.

Even Law looks… lighter.

Every now and then, when the others aren’t looking, he glances at you, and every single time you catch him, your heart betrays you.

All this should feel perfect.

So why does your chest feel so tight?

Eventually, the noise becomes too much… or maybe your thoughts do.

You slip away quietly while everyone’s distracted, weaving through lantern-lit streets until the celebration fades into something softer in the distance.

The cool night air helps a little.

You find Zoro sitting alone near the edge of a wooden house, one arm resting lazily on his knee while a sake bottle hangs loosely from his hand.

He’s drinking alone.

You almost smile at the sight.

Before you can say anything, he speaks first “You done thinking so loud?”

You blink and then snort softly despite yourself “If it’s that loud, then you know what I’m thinking about?”

Zoro nods once, takes another drink, and answers immediately “‘How do I tell them goodbye to go follow the broody doctor and his weird crew?’”

You stare at him for half a second before laughing “You’re the one talking about broody men and weird crews?”

“Hm.” he shrugs lazily “Takes one to know one.”

The laughter fades slowly after that and the quiet that settles this time feels gentler than before. Safe enough to finally let the thoughts spill out.

“What if they don’t want me there?” you ask suddenly, your voice quieter now.

Zoro drinks and listens.

“What if… he doesn’t?”

Your hands tighten slightly in your lap.

“We never talked about it again after… all that.”

Everything changed after it… and somehow, nothing did.

You exhale shakily “What if I misunderstood everything?”

Zoro says nothing so you keep going.

“And even if I didn’t…” your throat tightens slightly “How am I supposed to leave this crew?”

Your eyes drift toward the distant lights of the festival where everyone is celebrating.

“You’re my family. How do I just say goodbye to you? To Luffy? To everyone?”

A humorless laugh escapes you.

“I don’t even know how Luffy would react. He’ll probably just stare at me for ten minutes before screaming something ridiculous.”

That finally earns a small snort from Zoro.

“I didn't even stay that much with you guys but you were there for my hardest times… and helped me with no hesitation.”

After a long moment, Zoro lowers the bottle slightly “We all knew about you and Torao the moment we saw you meet again.”

You blink at him in surprise “What?”

“Yeah.” another shrug “You looked miserable.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He takes another slow drink before continuing “Luffy’s an idiot. But he notices things when it matters.”

His gaze shifts somewhere towards the celebration “…And now look at him.”

You follow his line of sight automatically and across the street, where the noise and celebration is… you find Law already looking at you.

He’s still seated with his crew, though “with” might be generous considering how little attention he’s paying to whatever Penguin is dramatically acting out in front of him.

And still, his eyes keep drifting back to you.

Your chest softens before you can stop it and a small smile slips onto your face naturally this time.

And from across the distance, Law’s expression changes too, subtle.

Beside you, Zoro hums lowly “You two just need to make it official.”

You laugh weakly under your breath “As if it’s that easy.”

“The rest of the stuff you’re worried about?” he lifts the bottle lazily “That comes naturally, after.”

You stare ahead quietly after that, thinking about his words.

About your crew, about Law, about every terrifying possibility waiting ahead of you, and somehow for the first time, it doesn’t feel impossible… still terrifying, but not impossible.

Your eyes sting unexpectedly “…Thank you, Zoro.”

Before he can react, you lean forward and hug him tightly.

Zoro goes completely stiff “Oi—”

He clearly has no idea what to do with physical affection.

His arms remain firmly at his sides, expression frozen in mild horror and annoyance at the sudden contact.

But he doesn’t push you away, he just lets you stay there for a moment.

Then, suddenly embarrassed by your own emotions, you pull away too fast “I’m never doing that again.”

“Good.”

“You’re awful.”

“Hm.”

A familiar voice calls your name from farther down the street.

You turn to see Nami waving dramatically while Robin smiles softly beside her. Kiku stands nearby with gentle patience while Carrot bounces excitedly trying to get your attention.

“There you are!” Nami shouts “Come on already!”

You laugh again, lighter this time.

Then you glance back once more toward Zoro “…Seriously. Thank you.”

He gives a lazy wave with the sake bottle and then you run back toward the girls.

You don’t see what happens behind you… you don't see Zoro glance toward the opposite side of the festival and don’t see Law still watching him.

For a long moment, the swordsman and the surgeon simply stare at one another across the crowd, then Zoro gives him the smallest nod.

Law’s gaze shifts briefly toward your retreating figure laughing beside Nami and Carrot.

Then back to Zoro.

And though he says nothing, he lets the encouragement stand.