Usopp was five years old, when his father left.
It was so casual, so normal, he didn't think it was a goodbye.
Yasopp travelled all the time, going away a few months and coming back with little gifts for him and mama. Banchina always looked happy, because his husband was going to fulfill his dream.
If Usopp had been smarter, or older, he would have noticed the silent tears tracing down his mother's face. But he was busy waving to dad, who was fading in the horizon, his ship getting smaller and smaller until it was a dot in the sea.
The next months, he'd wait in the port for that same ship.
Until one day, he just stayed home.
Usopp was seven years old, when his mother died.
It was just a cold, she had said. She'd get better in no time! And he believed her, because what kind of child thinks his mother is dying? What kid thinks that his mama's naps are fainting spells? That her pallor is because of illness, and not because of being inside that long?
That she's slowly dying like a flower snatched from its roots?
Then a doctor came, almost every day, with a nurse who'd let him sneak out to talk to his mama, who looked paler and sicker every day, sometimes not making any sense with her words.
That was a very bad cold.
When she died, he couldn't believe it. She was just awake, talking to him, before falling limp. Seeing the doctor trying to bring her back, the nurse quickly getting him out of the house, all of that chased him on his dreams. How they took her out of the house with a blanket covering her body, without letting him hug the only person that cared for him in the world.
Usopp was seventeen, when he left.
His mouth tasted like metal, every bit of his body hurt so bad he just wanted to lie down and pass out. But he couldn't. He had to fix Merry, he had to fix Merry, he-...
Every part of the ship haunted him.
The crow's next was full of Zoro's presence, talking late at night, laughing with some booze while he was in watch, rough but affective pats on the back that shook his body, the feeling of having the older brother he always wanted.
The infirmary overflowed with memories of Chopper healing some small wound caused by some mistake with a hammer, with his amazed expression while Usopp told him a story he had made up in the spot, just to see that admiration in the reindeer eyes.
The deck was all Robin's reading out loud some horror story, mysterious smiles and chuckles that, while creeping Usopp out, reminded him of the warmth that he once felt with his mother.
The helm was Nami smiling at him, smacking lightly the back of his head for doing a dumb thing while directing the ship, talks about going shopping more supplies for his factory while she tried new clothes on in a nearby stand. His best friend, his partner in crime.
The kitchen hurt a particular spot in his heart, just reserved for Sanji. Passionate kisses in the counter, little giggles and hugs while doing the dishes, a choked confession while a knife teared apart meat from bone for a meal. The smell of tobacco was still in the air, and it came down his throat to choke him with heartbreak.
And then, the figurehead.
Luffy smiling, laughing wildly at the wind in his face, letting out a panicked squeak when it tried to take his beloved hat. Usopp couldn't help but look up at him, wishing that freedom, but mostly wishing to be enough for him, to just belong on his side and nowhere else.
It was his family. He begged the world, the gods, to make this last forever. To not take this away from his hands, too, like everything, everyone.
It had been a beautiful lie, while it lasted.
Because before he knew it, he was in their arms again.
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