Pink Fox

It has been a year.

A year since you and Law broke up, since you left the crew.

It was a hard decision. The Heart Pirates were your family, the Polar Tang was your home, and Law was your other half. You thought of staying, but the idea that you had to stay in one place with the person you had hurt, it didn't sit right with you.

So, you had to make the decision and left the Polar Tang.

You weren't a pirate anymore. You'd become a civilian in a small island you found after a month of traveling alone. You opened a small bakery shop around the market to earn money, but today you decided to close it and have a time for yourself.

A year seemed like a short period of time, but a lot has changed within that timeframe.

Your hair is short now.

You lost weight.

You looked more matured.

And, you'd grown into a better person. A better version of yourself.

That was the important part.

The wind was strong, blowing your hair in different directions. You clutched the pocket of your hoodie tightly as you stroll around town. Well, the hoodie wasn't exactly yours—it was Law's.

You had a habit of stealing Law's clothes before, so when you left you had brought a lot of his clothes with you—shirts, sweaters, and hoodies.

You never thought of throwing it away, you never had the guts to, because it was the only thing that reminded you of him. Some of the shirts left untouched, so you could preserve his smell. Some hoodies were worn on nights you think of him, some sweaters were worn on times you missed him.

And there were times, you wished he'd come and get those hoodies back.

Did he not notice that a lot of his clothes had been stolen by you? Did he not miss his favorite hoodie? Did he not miss you?

You almost elicited a bitter laugh under your breath, how could you think he would miss you when you were the one who left him? You're selfish.

A few kilometers away from you, the roaring engine of the Polar Tang surrounded the ocean as it prepares to surface. The loud cheering of the crew reverberated against the metal walls of the submarine, because finally they'll be able to dock and rest for a while.

The island was small, yet visibly lively. The crew had already rushed out of the ship and in the island, screaming of incoherent praises. Their captain, Law, suddenly felt something—a sudden stir in his core, a sudden feeling of nervousness he couldn't comprehend where he got. He tried to shake off the feeling and walked towards the island with the crew.

The town was bustling, there were few stalls, and different shops. The plan was to restock their medical and kitchen supplies, but he allowed the crew to also do what they want.

"Captain, are you alright?" The polar bear asked him, curious.

"Yeah," Law answered shortly.

He couldn't ignore the raging storm inside him. The more he walked deeper into the island, the more he felt his stomach flipping. It was though his body was giving him warning about something unknown, like it had already felt something before he even saw it.

And, there it was.

When he turned to the corner to find a bookshop, he saw the familiar brown hoodie that he hadn't seen in a year. A thick orange line fell from the top to the back of the hood, below it engraved perfectly was the name of Corazon, and the jolly roger of the Heart pirates was drawn on it.

There was no doubt, it was his hoodie.

Law carefully rushed towards the person, no one other than him could have that hoodie because it was customized to his liking. So, that was when he knew, you were the one wearing the hoodie.

After leaving the bookstore, you felt a gaze piercing through you—hot and almost drilling holes at the back of your head. You had a gut feeling, your intuition was telling you something. But what do they say? To see is to believe.

Your footsteps halted, and with a deep breath you slowly turned around. There was an impossibly tall man across the street from you, he was staring at you or perhaps your hoodie.

Law.

Your breath hitched.

Because God.

Oh God.

Oh how much you've missed that damn handsome face of his.

You saw him swallowed, yes you did. Because you were just what–6 or 7 feet apart from each other.

Close, yet so far.

Your feet was frozen in spot, your mind going blank. You didn't know what to do, a part of you wanted to run, but another part was so done of running away.

Back then, whenever you thought of accidentally seeing him in an island, you thought he'd be mad at you or glare at you and push you away. But right now, all of those thoughts were wiped out of your mind—Law was looking at you with relief.

He was relieved to know that you are alive.

He was relieve to see that you are doing okay.

And, that pained you more than the day you left him.

Because, what do you mean his first thought after seeing you was relief and not anger or hatred.

The staring contest had gone for more than five minutes, each of you making the most out of those minutes. You were examining each other physically: his built changed, he became more lean, taller than you last saw him, dark circles under the eyes. All those changes, and yet he still looks at you the same way—with love.

Your eye contact broke for a moment when a big polar bear came crashing towards you, crying. "Y/N! It's really you, I'm so happy to see you!"

Then, the crew followed suit.

Ikakku hugged you tightly, "Oh.My.God. I missed you so much."

"Hey, you cut your hair." Penguin commented.

"You lost weight too, are you not taking care of yourself?" Shachi nagged.

Whispers. Comments. Questions. Then, someone dropped the bomb.

"Isn't that Captain's hoodie?"

"Oh! Yeah right, so this was why I no longer see him wearing that hoodie."

"Wait, don't tell me you have his other hoodies too?"

"The yellow and black one."

"The blue one too!"

And in the midst of all that chaos, your eyes found his again and his? It never left yours.

Everyone stopped talking and breathing, when their Captain started walking towards you. It was like everything paused—the time, the world, the people, everything.

Your first word wasn't hi nor hello, it was stupid. "Are you gonna take it back?"

"You can keep it."

Oh good heavens.

His voice.

His deep voice.

Your breath became uneven, knees almost gave out. You weren't mentally prepared to hear his voice again after a year. Seeing him for the first time again was already doing something inside you, but this? Hearing his deep voice you love so much, it made you want to just collapse on the ground.

It was your weakness.

But that wasn't the end of it, because maybe he intended on making you go insane.

"But, I'm taking you back."

You stopped breathing.

You suddenly couldn't hear. Couldn't see. Couldn't feel. You felt like your body was about to really give in, fortunately, Bepo saved you. His big furry paw held the small of your back as if he sensed that you were about to fall.

The whole crew was watching you with intensity, their breaths caught up in their throats. No one moves, no one speaks. They were patiently waiting for your movements, or so you thought.

A hand pushed your back, it wasn't aggressive, but it was hard—hard enough to send you stumbling forward.

Your body collided against Law's firm ones, his toned arms instinctively wrapped around your lower back to keep you on your feet. His hold was tensed yet gentle and familiar, and his scent that you loved instantly lingered on your nose.

Too close.

Your faces were only inches away from each other, you could almost feel his breath against your skin. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning again, like it was only the two of you existing together.

You noticed how his mouth opened slowly, then closed immediately. It was then the realization hit you hard and you pulled away from him, panicking.

"I'm sorry!" You could feel your face flushed, mixed of embarrassment and flattery.

Law could only shake his head, curling his fist to the side as if to restrain him from reaching for you. His arms felt so empty and cold when you left his grip, like he had just lost you again. And that brief moment was enough to ignite something inside him, something that made him feel insane from longing.

That's it.

He's not leaving the island without you.

There was a moment of silence, it was awkward and full of unspoken words. Fortunately, the crew noticed the sudden changed in the air and decided to make the mood lighter.

"We should eat!" Shachi proposed, earning an approval from the rest.

Penguin clapped his hand, then pointed at the small restaurant that he spotted. "Right, this calls for celebration!"

If there was something you wanted to be thankful for, it was that the crew didn't treat you differently. They treated you the way they always did, like you never left. They made you feel like you had always belonged with them, and that year of disappearance wouldn't stop them from seeing you as their family.

Ikkaku sat close to you, Bepo kept checking if your comfortable, Penguin and Shachi made sure that the place was bright and no dead air.

Law was quiet, just like how he always was. Silently observing the crew, speaking only if one of the crew had asked or told him something. He was respectful of your boundaries, not wanting to be a pushover and make things uncomfortable for you.

You catched up with them.

They told you of their adventures, the monsters, the enemies. The funny story of how Shachi fell on his butt on a random night at the Polar Tang or the sad story of how Bepo secretly cried in his quarters after you left, and he genuinely thought the crew didn't know about it.

They asked about you. So, you told them you were running a small bakery, that the people in the island were nice to you, and that you were enjoying your life here. But the crew knew better—afterall, the eyes never lie.

Well, how could you even tell them that you never felt like you belong anywhere after leaving the crew?

Oh, well, you didn't have to. Because, they knew.

"If you ever consider on coming back, we left a space for you in the Polar Tang." It was the most heart fluttering words you've ever heard in a year.

You almost showed vulnerability. You felt your eyes brimmed with tears, so you quickly looked away and pretended you something interesting outside.

Law saw that. And it broke something inside him.

By the time the sun had already set, the crew bid their goodbye for the day. They said they would stay at an inn for the night and will leave tomorrow afternoon. They didn't simply informed you, they wanted you to know that you still have time to think.

Before you parted with them, you whispered something to Law that you instantly regretted. "The shop is open until 9pm."

It was simple and Law is a smart man, he knew what you meant. He knew that it was time to finally fix everything.

It was already a minute before 9pm, the light at your shop was still on, and the hopes in your heart was slowly fading. If he wanted to come, he could've already been here right? But he isn't.

With a frustrated sigh, you stood up and walked towards the door about to lock it.

Knock.

Knock.

Your soul almost left your body from the sudden knock. You stood there, holding the doorknob for another second before finally opening it.

It was Law.

He impatiently pushed the door open and locked it behind him when he entered. His gaze wandered around the small wooden bakery, and noticed how vibrant it looked.

Your heart was thumping hard inside your chest that you pray wouldn't be heard with the deafening silence that surrounded you two. When Law finally looked at you, his gaze soft and tired. The side of his lips twitched in what looked like a small smile when his eyes went down on your clothes—you were wearing a new hoodie, but still his.

Law sat down at one of the table, clearing his throat softly, the silence was killing him.

Panic surged inside you, so you immediately offered to make a coffee for him. You awkwardly moved around your kitchen, making his coffee just the way he wanted it. Black and bitter.

When you placed the coffee in front of Law, he eyed it for a good second. "You remembered."

You carefully sat in front of him, watching him drink his coffee. "Of course, I do"

Then, you found yourself smiling. You were happy to see him, and thank heavens he's doing okay. It still felt surreal, him sitting in front of you, drinking the coffee you made for him. If it was a dream, you never want it to end.

"Why?" Law softly asked.

You shook your head, embarrassed. "I'm just…glad I got to see you again."

He paused for a second, mouth slightly opened like he couldn't believe you just said that. You unconsciously pulled the strings of his hoodie, his eyes slightly widened in shock. You had forgotten for a moment that pulling the strings was one of your way to tell Law you need him. You used to do that all the time, sometimes to tease him, to annoy him, but most times it was because you needed him.

You realized what you did when you saw his reaction, you immediately waved your hands in front of him. "Sorry, it became a habit. I didn't notice."

Law's lips pursed in a thin line, doubting at first, but decided to just drop it.

"About what I said earlier," he trailed off. "It's true."

You tilted your head a little, trying to remember which one. But before you could even reply, he spoke again.

"I'm taking you back."

"But, Law…"

"Unless, you're already…" He swallowed, preparing himself to say the words. "Unless, you're already dating someone else."

"No!" Your answer came out faster than you thought. "I mean, I'm not seeing anyone."

Law heaved a sigh, relief washing over his face. "Good."

"But, Law…" You hesitated, but he was waiting for you to continue. "Why do you want to take me back?"

He blinked. He wanted to say because he wanted to, but he knew he should be honest—to you and to himself. He decided swallow the emotionally constipated person that he was only for this moment.

So, he did.

"Because," you held your breath, "I still love you."

Your eyes blurred, it was from the tears that were threatening to fall your eyes. You looked away from his gaze, not wanting him to see you like this.

But Law didn't stop, tonight he would tell you how he feel—raw and honest.

"I looked for you everywhere, in every island we docked into." He lowered his gaze, feeling a little embarrassed. "I promised myself that if I ever see you, I won't let you go again."

Law's fingers tapped lightly against the table, trying his best to keep his hands to himself. "A year of not seeing you was a torture to me, and I don't want to go through that again."

You heard it: the sincerity in his tone, the longing, and the fear of the possibility of not being able to take you back.

Law was never a talker, not one to express himself through words. So, when he speak about what he feel and of his truth, it reveals the real him—the one no one knew of, the one he kept locked away from everyone to hide his vulnerability, but lets you see it anyway.

"This is driving me insane, Y/N. You don't know how much I'm holding myself back, right now." His tone wasn't aggressive nor mad, it was calm and a little desperate.

Your fingers found the strings of his hoodie once again. You pulled it. Twice. To let him know, this time, it wasn't unconscious nor out of habit. This time, it's real. You need him.

"Then, don't hold back."

Law immediately stood up from his chair, his hands dragging your chair away from the table to give himself space.

His lips crashed against yours.

Rough and thirsty, like he had been waiting for this his whole life. His calloused hands found the back of your neck, deepening the kiss even more. Your hands then held his toned arms, slowly moving up towards his broad shoulders.

Law's tongue glided softly over your bottom lip, asking for access. A soft grunt left his mouth when your fingers tugged at his black hair, your tongues started a battle no one wanted to lose.

You pulled away for a second, trying to catch your breath. But Law was thirsty, so he captured your lips into his again. His hands moved down your body and rested on your waist for a second, then moved lower to your hips, lifting you up from your chair to change the position.

This time, he was the one sitting on the chair and you were sitting on his lap, feeling his hard bulge between your thighs. Law made a guttural sound upon the contact, the feeling of you on top of him only made his member more harder and bigger. His large hands continued to explore your body—scared that if he let go, you'd disappear from his sight forever.

After minutes of making out, you both let go of each other's lips. Law's forehead resting against yours, his uneven breath hitting your skin.

You laughed, "You're hard."

"It missed you." He only smirked, then he thrusted his hip a little to tease you.

You were supposed to snort at Law's comment, but the feeling made you elicit a low moan—turning him on.

But despite the hotness and the urge that he felt in his body, you noticed the look in his eyes. It was soft and you melted into it. Your hands reached for his face, softly brushing his cheeks just under his eyes. Your fingertips carefully traced the arch of his brows, the bridge of his nose, and the shape of his lips, seemingly memorizing every detail.

Law's other hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from touching his face more. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're memorizing me, so you can remember me even if you leave."

You snorted, shaking your head. "You're over analyzing things again."

Law just shrugged, his expression unreadable but there was a faint of softness flickering around it.

Smiling, you pressed a quick kiss on his lips. "Aren't you taking me back, Captain?"

Captain.

The name echoed through Law's ears, then his lips twitched into a small smile. Really small one, but you know it was there.

"I already did." He said with a hint of proudness lingering on the way he said it.

A soft chuckle left your mouth. "Then, I'm not leaving."

Law just stared at you before sighing, a relieved one. Finally, after a year of waiting, he's holding you again. You belong to him again.

"I'm sorry, Law, for leaving back then. I was a coward. I couldn't hold you while I try to fix myself, because I thought staying while being miserable would be selfish." Your voice trembled, your feelings spilling out all over him.

You paused for a while, observing Law's face. "But, I also think that we needed that rest. I needed that, and I'm here now. I can you love you better now."

Law caressed your cheek, it was warm enough to make you smile. "Just don't leave again."

Your eyes softened, "I won't."

His hand slid at the back of your neck, pulling you closer until the distance between you disappeared. His lips brushed yours, this time, slow and gentle, because he had already calmed down. His heart was already certain that you won't be going anywhere without him.

And in the quiet night, your moans, his name, heavy breaths, and the sound of your bodies made when touching, were the only things heard across the bakery.

With every touch and every kiss, Law made sure you knew who you belonged to.

Law stayed for the night. Sleeping soundly next to you, and a little clingy for his own liking. His body surely betrayed the cold facade he always showed.

The sun has risen, peaking through the windows of your small abode at the upper floor of the bakery. The world has started their day, except for you and the clingy tiger beside you. When you tried to remove Law's arms around you, he only groaned and tightened his grip even more.

"Captain, you're cuddling me." You whispered just enough for him to hear, your index finger poking the tip of his tall nose.

Law grunted, eyes still closed and arms still around you. "This is a proximity maintenance."

You laughed, loud. The sound made him snap his eyes open, staring at you as if it was his first time hearing you laugh. "What?"

"You're beautiful." Law whispered, his eyes staring at you with tenderness.

You bit your bottom lip trying to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. He just complimented you out of the blue. It wasn't like he never said that before, but the way he always says it makes your heart flutter.

"I missed you, Law." You muttered. "Your hoodies kept me warm for all the nights you weren't there."

Law's hand touched your hair, his fingertips raking through your it while he silently listen to you.

"There were times…I wished you'd take me back." You laugh to yourself, remembering those moments.

"I wanted to," Law answered, "But I also figured, maybe we really need time to distance ourselves from each other for a while."

You nodded at his statement, completely agreeing to it.

There were times you felt like both of you were getting suffocated of the relationship, you were hurting him, no big improvements, and it felt like you needed to really breathe. It was hard that you had to break up just for you to grow and learn, but well, isn't love sweeter the second time around?

You wanted to regret it at first, because you were lost when you let go of Law. But now, you think it wasn’t a really bad decision. You've learned a lot, grown a lot, and you could say this version of yourself was the one you're sure would love Law in all right ways.

"I'll love you better in every ways you wanted and needed to be loved. I'll make sure you won't regret getting back with me."

Those words were the assurance that Law needed. His chest eased, something inside him was able to breathe and lose the weight he had been carrying since you left.

"Then stay," he whispered, his voice low. "Stay and let me do the same."

The edge of you lips twitched downwards, shaking a little from feeling emotional. Your arms immediately wrapping around him as you buried your face against his chest, hiding your teary eyes.

Law continued to stroke your hair, and somehow it calmed your nerves.

"I love you." The words slipped past his lips, tickling something deep within you. "I don't always say it, but I do."

You pulled away from his chest to get a better view of his face, his cheeks was hot and there was a faint pink across it.

You smiled mischievously, "Is that really you, Captain?"

Law rolled his eyes, he did. Then, he glanced away, acting annoyed. But you could see the edge of his lips turned upward, smiling from your teasing.

You grabbed his cheeks, turning his face to look at you. "I love you too, Law."

Law closed the gap between you, kissing you gently.

But it didn't last long, because you heard a group of people outside calling "Captain!"

One went–"Captain! I know you're here!"

Then the other–"I know you wanted to take Y/N back, but don't you dare forget about us!"

Someone even yelled–"Stop getting freaky and open the damn bakery!"

Of course, it was the crew. They really don't have any dignity left with them when their Captain isn't with them.

You quickly stood up, pulling out a new fresh of clothes from your closet while Law watched you. Then, you opened the window and screamed at the crew.

"Will you shut up!?"

Penguin screamed back, his hands were around his mouth. "I'm gonna continue screaming that you did freaky things with the Captain if you don't open the door for us!"

"I will tell him to split you in two!" Laughter erupted from their filty mouths, and you swore, you heard Law laughing too.

You turned around and picked up his shirt on the floor, throwing it on his lap. "Nothing's funny, Captain."

He snorted. "Well, we really did freaky things."

"I swear, I'm gonna throw you out." You groaned, annoyed.

Law smirked. "Bet you can't do it."

"You're annoying."

"You're wearing my hoodie again." He muttered, his eyes moving up and down your body.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Are you checking me out?"

"If I am?"

"Aren't you a little perverted today, Captain?"

He laughed again, the sound was low and genuine—breaking into his usual cold composure.

Then, you heard Penguin's voice.

"She's taking so long, maybe she can't walk because of her freakiness with the Captain last night." It was obvious that he was pretending to say that to someone in the crew, and making sure you heard him loud and clear in the process.

Your fist curled on your side, ready to retort an annoying remarks back at him. But, Law's loud thoughts interrupted you.

"I should've been rougher."

Your eyes widen at what he just said. Indeed Law was a little pervert, you knew that so damn well—but you thought, he was a little off his usual character today.

"You're kidding."

He shrugged, "I'm not."

You walked closer towards the bed and stopped at the edge of it, your hands lightly touching Law's forehead and neck to check his temperature. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

"Tch. I'm just…being playful with you." He said the last few words in a small voice, as if regretting showing that side of him.

Your lips curved into a gentle smile, "Well, I like it…" Law found your eyes, waiting for you to continue. "Actually, I love your playful side."

His shoulders relaxed, the tip of his ears red from hearing that assurance. You heard him scoff to hide that small joy peaking from his face.

Law was known for his cold and tough demeanor, being playful wasn't in his vocabulary—but with you, he wasn't afraid to show that side because you were a safe space for him.

At the Polar Tang, some of the crew were loading the ship with all the supplies they'd bought from the island, and some were doing a quick check up of the ship to ensure safe diving.

Their Captain, stood in the middle of the deck with his coat hung over his broad shoulder, barking orders to the crew.

The truth was, Law was only doing that to hide his nervousness.

After spending the morning at your bakery with the crew, you told Law it'd take a little while for you to pack your things and bid your farewells to the villagers. You kept assuring him that you’ll see him at the Polar Tang before noon, yet he couldn't help worrying and thinking you might not show up.

Law had stopped giving orders after a few minutes and fell deep into his thoughts that he didn't notice right away your appearance.

It was only when the crew screamed your name that he snapped out of his thought.

"Y/N!"

"I'm so glad you're back!"

"I knew this was coming, I got the feeling."

"I won the bet! I told y'all they'd get back together."

"No you didn't, because everyone knew this would happen."

Their voices only died down when you yelled, "Help me, you idiots!" They went down rushing towards you to get all your stuffs and brought it inside the ship.

When everything was settled down, Law walked over to you. His arm around your waist, and pressed a quick kiss at your temple when no one was looking.

"Did I worry you?" You asked, grinning.

Law tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes speaking for him before he even say the words loudly. "Yeah, thought you'd change your mind."

"Well, I hoped you have a lot new hoodies in your closet."

"I came here prepared." Law replied, his tone was laced with confidence.

Your smile only grew bigger, and his arms around you tightened.

The hoodies weren't just pieces of his clothing—it was a claim, a reminder of what you two have. If it weren't for his hoodie, he might not have been able to find you in the crowd. Or if he did, he wouldn't really know if your heart still belongs to him.

And for sure, Law would be buying tons of them in every island you'd dock into.

You heart melted at the thought of being in the Polar Tang again, seizing through the depths of the oceans with your family—with Law.

This time, you swear you're not leaving again.

This time, you'll hold Law's hands tighter than anything.

And this time, you don't have to spend the days and nights alone with his hoodies because Law is with you again.

The silence after the skirmish was wrong. It was too quiet, too… small, literally. Because where your Captain, your lover Trafalgar Law should have been standing - intimidating, broody, coat flapping and Kikoku balanced on his shoulders - was now a six-year-old child with the same sharp eyes, the same scowl just.......smaller. And he looked like he was deciding which one of you to dissect first.

“Tch.” the kid huffed as he looked down at himself and saw that his clothes were like 5 sizes too big. It looked adorable, though you knew better than to comment on it right now.

“C-Captain…?” Bepo squeaked carefully, unsure of what just happened. 

The child slowly turned his head, eyes cold and calculating in a way no child’s should be. “Don’t call me that,” he said flatly. “I don’t know you.”

Oh no, oh no. You knew this wasn’t good, you knew this was going to be a mess. Even if it was also kinda cute, tiny Law looked so adorable. Scary even for his age but still, really cute. You looked between him and the crew and decided to try to calm the situation down and at least get you all off the battlefield.

“Okay so, how about we all get back to the Polar Tang and continue panicking there. Besides at least he's still in one piece and only a tiny cute version with a scary scowl, so it's like.....still a win right” you sighed as the crew remained perplex and stared wide eyed and in pure disbelief at Law before they slowly nodded and moved towards the ship while you just placed a hand on Law's hat and guided him towards the Polar Tang.

“Resistence is useless, Captain, either way you walk by yourself or I'll have to pick you up” you said firmly moving him.

“Don't call me Captain and I'm not—” he cut himself off as he saw the look on your face and the way you were leaning down ready to hoist him up. “Fine but I'm not going to like it nor be friends with you” he grumbled. 

Once on the Polar Tang and inside the infirmary tiny Law refused to stop analyzing everyone, he refused to eat the apple Bepo wanted to hand him and to stop glaring like he was memorizing everyone’s vital organs. “You’re all watching me,” he muttered from the infirmary bed, knees drawn up.

“Is he… creepier like this?” Penguin whispered looking a bit warily at the Captain.

“Yes, so much more.” you said immediately, exhaling deeply.

The sound of it got Law's attention and his eyes snapped to you. “You. You’re loud,” he murmured as he pointed at you, his brows narrowing a tiny bit. 

“Hi,” you replied cheerfully waving a hand and taking a step closer to him but making sure not to overwhelm or crowd him. “I like to refer to myself as charming.”

He didn't blink and just stared at you, very long and very intense. “…You’re dangerous,” he decided more as a matter of fact.

“Yeah I've heard that one before and it's usually accompanied by you lecturing me about something,” you sighed, then reached into your pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped chocolate bar, the emergency kind you saved for long scouting missions because Law often told you, you were getting annoying when you were hungry.

You tossed it onto the bed and it slid to a stop near his knee. He stared at it like it might explode or attack him. “Poison?” he asked, eyes wary.

“Yes because that's what I do for a living - poisoning little Captains” you joked and he stared wide eyed at you. “Im just joking, calm down there's nothing besides too much sugar in it,” you correct. “You look like you could really need the sugar right now. And for the record, my name is (Y/N). We’re…uhm well we're......friends. Sort of.”

“Friends? More like lo—” Shachi started but you elbowed him hard and glared. How should you explain to a six-year-old that you two were more than just friends, that you were lovers or something close to it that neither of you wanted to officially name, well the grown up version of him and you at least. 

“I don’t have friends,” Law muttered, though his small hand crept toward the chocolate unable to resist. “Everyone I know is doomed to die.” The words hit harder than any blade could because this was him stripped bare, no sarcasm, no emotional walls. Just raw, unfiltered Law and everyone knew it and how sadly true it was.

“Well,” you said gently, your voice softening, “now you have a whole submarine full of idiots and Ikkaku who would die for you. And you have me. I’m the one who tells you when you’re being an arrogant prick. You're not alone, Law.”

He paused for a moment, the wrapper halfway open and a teeny tiny flicker of amusement crossed his face. “…I’m an arrogant prick?”

“The worst,” you laughed. “But you’re also the best doctor I’ve ever met. Even at six I'm sure you’re probably better than most of the hacks in the Grand Line.”

“…I do know a thing or two about anatomy.” he huffed a bit proud and then finally ate the chocolate, which felt like a small victory for you.

But the victory was rather short-lived because things got immediately worse. He critiqued the ship’s layout and demanded it to be 'more efficient', he called Shachi loud and structurally unsound, he bit Penguin once and tried to perform surgery on a melon for practice while talking to himself about all the arteries that went to and from the heart.

You caught him halfway through. But didn't immediately interrupt him, it was remarkable that he at age six knew all of these things. At one point though you reminded yourself that he was a kid and he was currently handling a sharp object. “Put the scalpel down,” you said firmly.

“It’s educational,” he huffed and pursed his lips.

“It’s fruit murder, and you shouldn't run around with this, if you accidentally lose a finger or an eye I'm never going to hear the end of it and your adult self would be really really mad at me,” you pointed out as you took another step closer to him.

“…You’re mean.” he glared.

“You tried to autopsy lunch,” you countered and he pouted a tiny bit, making you smile because it looked just too cute. “You're adorable when you pout, and you should definitely stop that if you want to intimidate me.” 

“I'm not pouting” he muttered but you only smiled wider and patted his head. 

“Of course not, just keep telling yourself,” you teased with a smug wink.

Later, you found him sitting alone, legs dangling off a counter, swinging slowly. “You don’t treat me like a child,” he suddenly said.

“You don’t act like one,” you shrugged.

“…Good.” He hesitated, then added, quieter, “You stay close. Like you’re guarding me.”

“Habit,” you said lightly, blinking surprised at him. “You attract trouble and someone has to keep you safe.”

“If I’m dangerous… why do you trust me?” he hummed, thinking.

“Because even when you’re terrifying,” you said meeting his eyes, “you protect people and care for us. You just like to pretend you don’t but we all know you too well.”

He looked away, ears pink. “…You’re annoying.”

“Also a habit but that's part of my charm,” you winked and handed him his anatomy book telling him to explain a few things to you. You often did that with Law not because you were all too fond of learning about it, even though it was actually really useful and sometimes even very interesting, but mostly because you liked the glint in Law's eyes as he taught you. Looking at him now you realized that even the tiny version had that same beautiful spark in his eyes. And when the ship rocked later that night, he instinctively grabbed your sleeve and didn't let go.

The next day it turned out the real problem wasn't that Law was six. It was that six-year-old Law was an absolute tyrant. The first tantrum happened over soup and would later on be remembered as the bread incident.

“This has bread in it,” he snapped, staring into the bowl like it personally betrayed him.

“…yeah,” you said, inwardly groaning that the crumbs accidentally ended up in his bowl and you tried to deflect it. “You’re on a pirate submarine.”

“I don’t eat bread,” Tiny Law declared, crossing his arms. The entire mess hall froze as they realized the faux pas. 

“Well the grown-up you does,” you lied and you felt everyone's eyes on you. 

“What? (Y/N) the Capatin—” Penguin started but you kicked him under the table. “Ow!”

“That man is not me.” Law stated with a glare that could sink ships. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, so much for your lie even tiny Law was too smart for that and seeing through you. “Fine we get you a new bowl,” you sighed defeated.

But the tantrum escalated when the crew tried to swap his soup for a bread free version and he decided this was, in fact, an assassination attempt. He crossed his arms and turned his back to everyone. “I refuse to cooperate,” he shouted and you finally had enough, you were hungry and Law was grating at your nerves. 

“Timeout,” you said pointing toward the corner. What followed was absolute silence, Shachi paused his spoon halfway to his mouth and Penguin and Jean Bart looked wide eyed between you and Law.

“…What?” Law asked, confused breaking the silence.

“You heard me,” you huffed firmly, while deep down trying not to laugh and ask yourself what you were just doing.

“You cannot confine me,” he protested as he stared at you like you had just committed a war crime.

“I absolutely can,” you countered. “Corner. Now.” Five minutes later, Trafalgar D. Water Law, the surgeon of death, was sitting on a stool in the corner, arms crossed, scowling so hard his face looked like it would crack. “This is humiliation,” he muttered.

“Correct,” you said, not even trying to hide your amusement. “Maybe you should think about your life choices next time.” He was definitely brooding and sulking right now but you just couldn't help but smile because this was Law, and even if he was just a six-year-old boy it was just too funny to think that you had just put a man who's name struck fear all over the seas on the ‘timeout’ chair.

Later on, after he 'survived' the detention, you tried to find Law some clothes that would actually fit him and Bepo tried to help, but that turned out to be a mistake. He knelt, holding out a pair of soft, fuzzy pajamas with little polar bear patterns, the only thing small enough for a tiny little menace and you didn't have the energy to ask where they even came from.

“C-Captain…? These are very warm…” Bepo stammered holding them out to Law.

Law slowly lifted his head and god, his glare could have frozen magma. “…I will not wear those.”

Bepo ever the sweetest one on this submarine immediately apologized. “S-Sorry…!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, okay. No bear pajamas, for the tiny surgeon.” Law nodded once, sharp and clearly satisfied. “…Wait,” you added. “I'm not done, Bepo juat tried to help and you were rude so…..I want you to apologize to him.”

“No.” Law said firmly crossing his arms, acting like you wanted him to admit that the void century never happened.

“Okay then…..Timeout, round two.” you said hoisting him up. His shriek echoed through the submarine.

“This is tyranny!” he protested in your arms. 

“You’re on a pirate ship,” you replied calmly. “Try again.” you continued before sitting him down on a chair in the corner again.

Shachi approached the little menace and crouched in front of him with finger guns. “Hey champ—wanna hear a joke to kill some time?” he asked trying to lighten the mood but Law’s eyes narrowed and Shachi backed away.

Penguin tried next. “We can play cards!” he exclaimed but Law just tilted his head, slowly and really unsettlingly and Penguin raised his hands in surrender. 

“…Do you enjoy making fools of yourselves?” Law asked flatly and both men retreated immediately.

“He’s terrifying,” Penguin whispered as he and Shachi both subtly moved behind you as if trying to hide.

“He gets that from his future self you should be used to it,” you grinned.

By hour six, the crew had given up to try to get to tiny Law because apparently, you were the only one he was listening to, the only one he argued with instead of silently plotting their demise.

“You’re enjoying this,” Law accused, sitting beside you on the floor, arms crossed.

“Immensely,” you smirked, not even trying to pretend otherwise.

“You contradict me on purpose.”

“Yes,” you shrugged shamelessly, still smirking.

“…You’re insufferable,” he brooded and a small frown on his face formed.

“Aw, say it like you mean it,” ypu teased.

He huffed trying to be grumpy but then scooted half an inch closer to you without realizing it and you just smiled not commenting on it because this was not much different than grown up Law and ypu knew the moment you'd point it out he'd retreat again.

Bepo watched from across the room. “I-I think… he likes you…” he mumbled softly.

“I do not,” Law snapped. “…She’s just more tolerable than the rest of you.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment, I feel honored,” you whispered to him and nudged him gently and he opened his mouth to say something but then stopped himself. You saw the tiniest tug on the corners of his lips and that felt like a victory again.  

Over the time you started noticing things about him, despite his attitude, he sought you out when the ship was loud, he sat near you during meals, he pretended not to care if you left the room but he always looked up with almost hopeful eyes when you returned.

“Where did you go,” he eventually muttered when you stepped away for too long. 

You smiled but didn't tease him. “Well every once in a while, I need to use the bathroom but I’m right here now,” you replied, making him nod satisfied.

Later, when the crew unanimously voted to put you in charge of him, Penguin declaring you ‘Captain-sitter’ Law scoffed. “I don’t need supervision.”

“Then why are you holding my sleeve?” you asked, raising your eyebrows, looking extremely smug.

He froze as he realized you were right. “…Tch.” he grunted and slowly, almost reluctantly, released it. But when the lights dimmed that night, he wordlessly dragged his blanket over to where you were sitting and you let him, after all this was still the man you loved even if he was currently a tiny menace.

The next morning Jean Bart told you that the Polar Tang needed to dock to restock some supplies and you knew this was going to be very, well interesting. The island was loud, a bit too loud. Bright fabrics flapped in the wind, merchants shouted over each other, kids ran past with sticky hands and shrill laughter and six-year-old Law did not like it. He walked stiffly at your side, jaw tight, eyes darting everywhere like he was mapping escape routes. Every time someone bumped him, his shoulders tensed further.

You noticed the way his small hand kept lifting, hovering and stopping short of yours. He looked furious about it, like he wanted to reach up but something stopped him from doing it. You slowed your pace a little, pretending to be distracted by a fruit stall. When he hesitated beside you, you didn't wait for him to decide and instead reached down and simply took his hand in yours.

He jolted like he had been shocked. “I didn’t—” he growled immediately, trying to pull back. “I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” you said easily. “Crowds suck, even your adult version often took my hand in them, besides I really wouldn't want to lose my favorite surgeon. We would be screwed without you,” you winked.

He scowled, cheeks faintly pink. “I don’t need—” he protested but it died down. His hand not letting go of yours. In fact, his fingers tightened around yours, small, warm, stubborn and in a strange and sweet way protective. “…Don’t read into this,” he muttered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain,” you grinned, enveloping his hand completely. He huffed, puffing out his cheeks but kept holding on anyways.

You stopped at a small vendor selling little carved charms, beads, useless but pretty things. You were halfway through inspecting a small wooden charm when the seller leaned forward with a grin. “Ah, you have good taste,” he said smoothly. “For someone like you, I could make a special price.”

“Someone like… me?” you blinked raising an eyebrow, eager to here what stupid kind of sweet talk would follow next because you knew the drill the vendors used to lull potential buyers in.

“A pretty woman deserves something nice, wouldn't you agree?” he nodded with a smile too practiced and sweet. Ah the pretty woman compliment, what a classic, and completely lame.

Suddenly a sound came from beside you. It was low, sharp and like a warning growl that had absolutely no business coming from a six-year-old. You glanced down at Law and he was staring at the man like he was considering surgical disassembly. “…Who is this,” he asked flatly.

The vendor chuckled. “Your little brother?” he asked looking at you and before you could give an answer Law puffed his tiny chest out.

“I’m not her brother,” he hissed his grip on your hand tightened almost possessively. You looked between them and choked on a laugh, this was way too amusing right now. 

The vendor raised a brow, clearly confused and having no clue what was going on right now. “Ah. Then…well.....uhm....?” he stammered unsure of how to react to that.

Law stepped closer to you, practically plastered to your side now and somehow the image of a koala clinging came to your mind. “She’s with me.”

“Lucky kid,” the man grinned, a mix of amusement and tension in his eyes. 

“I will end you,” Law muttered, baring his teeth and your eyes widened. 

“Okaaay, buddy, how about we keep those thoughts inside” you said, squeezing his hand, the whole situation hilarious and terrifying at the same time.

“Perhaps… I give a discount and we all have a nice day,” the vendor stammered after he cleared his throat 

“Good,” Law snapped. “Now stop talking to her,” he warned.

The man swallowed caught off guard that he got terrified by a little boy and gave you the discount on the small wooden charm, that no one really needed, for a really good price and then retreated instantly.

As you started to walk away you couldn't help it but laugh, the fact that a six year old scared a vendor, a rather bulky man, into giving you a discount and tuck his tail in only to retreat was comedy gold. “This isn’t funny.” Law bristled.

“You just threatened a grown man over a wooden charm,” you chuckled unable to stop.

“He was annoying,” he huffed. 

“He was flirting,” you corrected, making Law stop dead in his tracks.

Slowly, he looked up at you. “…That was flirting?” he asked, scrunching his nose.

“Oh yeah, it's a common thing here, helps with selling things. Well mostly,” you explained shrugging.

His brows knitted together and for a long moment he thought hard as if trying to process everything. “…I didn’t like it.” 

“Why not?” You asked, teasing him gently. “He wasn't that bad at it, a bit slimy maybe but he sold it rather well,” you laughed, obviously not serious about it.

“…Because,” he started, scowling harder. “He was wasting your attention.”

Your chest tightened a bit. He might have only been six but the way he looked at you and how he had said it was so much like his grown up self and you realized how much you missed him. Not that ypu minded, his tiny version was adorable, cute and made your heart swell but you missed the man who held you, who kissed you and who scolded you for eating too much sugar. “Well,” you said softly, smiling at him, “lucky for you, you’ve got my attention now all to yourself.”

He hummed satisfied and after a moment he extended his hand. “Hold my hand again,” he said firmly and you did. This time he didn't pretend he hated it, no this time he didn't hide that he was in fact enjoying it. 

As you kept walking you soon found out that the second stall you stopped by was even worse or funnier depending on how you saw it. It was crowded and narrow and the vendor was very enthusiastic, leaning way too close as he explained the craftsmanship of some shiny, completely unnecessary trinket you didn't need nor want.

“And for someone like you,” the man said with a wink, “I can make a very special deal.”

It was almost the same stupid line as before and you were mid-eye-roll when Law suddenly stopped walking, planting his feet. You felt his hand tighten around yours like a vise and you raised an eyebrow looking down at him. “…She’s mine,” he said out of nowhere and it was as if the entire world had paused in that moment.

You raised and eyebrow and looked at him, slowly and totally caught off guard at how firmly he had said that. How this didn't sound like a suggestion or something but like a matter of fact. “…I’m sorry?” you asked perplex.

The vendor meanwhile laughed awkwardly. “Ah—kids say funny things—”

Law stepped forward, eyes dark, voice sharp and dangerously serious for someone who still had baby teeth. “She’s mine. Go away,” he repeated firmer now and the man paled.

You pressed your lips together, fighting a grin as the vendor backed off immediately, muttering apologies and retreating at record speed, pretending that another customer needed his help. Once he was gone, you crouched slightly to Law’s level. “Mine?” you repeated, teasing. “Wow. Bold claim, Captain.”

His ears instantely turned red. “I was establishing boundaries,” he shrugged trying to downplay it.

“Oh? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Don’t mock me,” he scowled but still blushed a tiny bit.

“So if I’m yours…,” you started grinning wider and before he could throw in whatever terrifyingly possessive excuse he was winding up for, you scooped him up, straight into your arms and the reaction, well it was immediate and catastrophic......and a bit funny.

“PUT ME DOWN—!” he yelled, rigid as a board. “I DID NOT AUTHORIZE THIS—!” But his arms looped around your neck anyway. In fact they did it really tight. Like, very tight.

You adjusted him on your hip effortlessly. “Huh,” you said innocently. “Weird, for all your complaining your awfully clingy.”

“I am NOT—” he paused as he realized he was indeed clinging. But more surprising was that he didn't loosen his grip and instead tightened it harder. “This is a tactical hold,” he snapped. “In case you drop me.”

“Sure it is,” you chuckled, heart swelling a tiny bit, the familiar scent of his shampoo hitting your nose.

“Stop walking so confidently,” he complained trying to pout but it didn't work.

“Nope,” you said popping the p. 

“You’re enjoying this,” he grumbled into your ear.

“Immensely,” ypu laughed and he glared at you, cheeks blazing, still refusing to let go though.

“You’re abusing your authority.”

“Captain-sitter privileges,” you replied. “Plus, you were the one who claimed me and that simply comes with consequences.”

“…I didn’t mean like that,” he protested weakly.

“So I’m not yours?” You asked, tilting your head feigning a hurt look.

He hesitated long enough to betray himself, eyes locked on yours before he grumbled. “…You’re under my protection,” he muttered. “That’s different.”

“Aww,” you cooed. “My very own tiny bodyguard.”

“I could still stab someone,” he grumbled.

You laughed softly but not mocking or teasing. “I’m counting on it, otherwise you'd be a really bad bodyguard.”

He finally buried his face against your shoulder, furious and absolutely defeated. “…Don’t tell the crew,” he muffled against your skin.

“Oh, I’m absolutely telling the crew.” you chuckled softly but your heart was doing a flip as you held him. 

“…Then I’m never letting go,” he whispered, tightening his grip again and honestly, you didn’t mind one bit.

The rest of the walk through the port made it clear tiny Law did not like anyone near you. Glaring or scowling at strangers if they got too close. You didn't mind, at first it eas funny and worked surprisingly well to keep annoying vendors or creeps away from you but it became a problem as it turned against the crew too. It started with Bepo reaching for your sleeve to get your attention but Law was instantly between you.

“Don’t touch her,” he said firmly.

Bepo froze, he had not expected that from Law. “I—I just wanted to ask—” 

“No,” Law said flatly, arms crossed, stance wide like he was guarding a treasure chest. “Ask from there.”

You blinked and stared at Law. “Buddy, Bepo’s allowed to—”

“She’s mine,” he repeated, dead serious and taking your hand.

“…Oh, I'm sorry Captain” Bepo said ears dropping.

“That’s new.” Penguin whispered. “That’s terrifying.” Shachi whispered back.

Bepo though was clearly distressed now and crouched in front of tiny Law a little later, hands folded, eyes huge and shimmering, giving him that puppy look he always did when he was apologizing to Law and felt like he did something wrong. “C-Captain… I'm sorry I didn't mean to be intrusive.”

Tiny Law opened his mouth to snap but then to your surprise stopped. Something inside him pulled in his chest, like he remembered this from his adult version. You looked from him to Bepo and realized that Bepo’s puppy eyes, that expression, that unbearable sincerity and that cute look, was triggering a memory. 

Law's scowl faltered for half a second and he looked… confused. “…You okay?” you asked gently, not wanting to ruin the moment or overwhelm him right now.  

Law blinked hard, turning away with a sharp ‘tch’. “He’s… annoying but he can stay.”

Bepo perked up, ears straightening again. “R-Really?!”

“…Yes,” Law snapped, cheeks faintly pink. “Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled, still not totally understanding why it had unsettled him like that, only that it felt familiar. 

You walked up to him and placed your hand on his head. “It felt familiar because Bepo looks at your adult version like this when he has messed up and it gets to you every single time.” You explained softly and Law looked up at you nose scrunching. 

“It wasn't the first time I felt something like this, when you called me arrogant prick I felt something……like this too.” Law confessed.

“Well it seems some of your memories are pushing through every now and then, don't fight them though and don't be afraid of them either, they're part of you, you tiny menace. They're part of what makes us care for you,” you whispered, heart fluttering a bit.  

Later on Shachi and Penguin were laughing their asses off because they successfully scared Hakugan and Clione into believing their cabin was haunted. You sighed and tiny Law watched from your side, unimpressed and with a face worse than every eye roll. “…Idiots,” he muttered.

And while you convinced Clione and Hakugan that Shachi and Penguin were just messing with them, the two latter high-fived and laughed harder, Penguin even nearly tripped and something inside Law made click again. You saw it the moment you turned back to him. It was like a flash of warmth was hitting him, like he saw the noise but knew it wasn't threatening it was annpoing him but at the same time made him feel a sense of belonging. His grip tightened on your sleeve. “…They’re loud,” he said.

“But?” you prompted, sensing there was more to it.

“…They’re annoying but efficient and it's good they're here” he admitted grudgingly.

“Wow. High praise,” you grinned, nudging his shoulder gently.

“…Don’t tell them,” he scowled and you smiled and zipped your lips shut with a wink. 

That evening when the Polar Tang had surfaced you were on the deck, leaning your arms on the railing inhaling the scent of the sea air as the sun dipped low. The light caught you just right, warm and gold, wind teasing your hair. Tiny Law, never far from you, stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you. He stared at you with wide eyes, something deep inside him seemed to recognize that image, he didn't know how or why but looking at you in that moment felt like home.

“…You look stupid,” he muttered, because that was his default defense mechanism.

“Okaaaay. Well thank you, definitely not rude of you but fine,” you laughed. “Really charming Captain.”

“…Stay like that,” he added quickly. “I mean—don’t move. It’s strategic.”

You paused and tilted your head softly. One moment he told you you looked stupid the next he told you to stay like this. It was confusing but at the same time a bit sweet. “For what?” you asked raising an eyebrow, glancing at him.

He pursed his lips for a moment and you could see the gears in his head turn. “…For morale.”

“Morale? Well if it's for morale I guess I have to follow your orders, Captain” you teased and then felt him shift closer, leaning into your side.

When Penguin tried to tap your shoulder a moment later Law snapped at him “DON’T.”  

“Noted.” Penguin said, retreating with both hands raised.

Law didn't even look at him. He was too busy staring at the horizon and stealing glances at you, fingers curled in your clothes, expression tight like he was holding onto something he didn't want to lose, something that he didn't yet remember had already been his once. But at the same time, somehow he seemed to know.  

After that moment though Law's clinginess reached an unmanageable level because he followed you everywhere. Like a tiny, adorable shadow, one hand permanently clutching either yours or the hem of your shirt. You walked into the med bay, he was there. Deck? there. Galley? There. Bathroom? Luckily not in there but he waited outside the door like a tiny judgemental gargoyle.

“I am not following you,” he insisted when you pointed it out once. “I am monitoring your vitals.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “My own personal haunted Fitbit. I'm really lucky,” you laughed and softly nudged his cheek.

“You’re under constant threat,” he mumbled, trying to justify his actions.

You tried not to laugh, because he was being so damn serious while trying to hide how much he just enjoyed being close to you. Seriously that was so Law. “From who?” you asked playing along.

“…Everyone,” he clarified and you just shook your head smirking. The crew, of course, had noticed and they were having the time of their lives and you were sure that they were taking notes to make sure to rub it into Law's face once he was his adult self again. Once again you didn't mind tiny Law and his clinginess, well maybe a little bit, but you started to miss the adult version. 

During another supply run at a different island the docks were too crowded once again and it was even for your own liking a bit too overwhelming and loud. So you did the only logical thing. You picked him up and plopped him right onto your shoulders. 

“HEY—!” he yelled while his tiny hands immediately grabbed your hair for balance and were surprisingly gentle. “I did not approve this transport method—!”

“You were about to headbutt a fish merchant,” you replied calmly. “This is for public safety.”

He grumbled but stayed there, clinging to you, even resting his chin on top of your head like a very angry, very possessive backpack.

You walked past the crew and Shachi squinted before his eyes widened and then he lost it. “LOOK AT THEM,” he stage-whispered to Penguin. “CAPTAIN IS LIKE AN ANGRY KOALA.”

“(Y/N), when’s the wedding?!” Penguin gasped dramatically while choking on a laugh.

“As soon as I find a ring small enough for his ego!” You said not missing a beat.

You felt Law's grip tighten on your hair, not painful just firm. “I CAN HEAR YOU,” Law yelled down, scowling.

“Good,” you shouted back. “Internalize the shame.”

“I HAVE NO SHAME,” he protested.

“Then why are your cheeks so pink?” You asked with a knowing smirk, making him pout a bit and mumble something about being not taken seriously.

You stopped at a vendor stall and Law tightened his grip on your hair even further. “Oh great here we go again” you thought, you had not forgotten the last encounters during which Law scared off the vendors. 

“Don’t talk to them,” he muttered.

You sighed. “Law, I’m literally just buying fruit,” you said.

He squinted his eyes at the stall, the vendors and the apples there. “They’re suspicious.”

“Who the apples?” you asked with a sighed, rolling your eyes.

“They could be assassins,” he muttered, eyeing everything warily. 

Inwardly you were laughing really hard. You couldn't believe that Law was just serious about this “Law,” you started but he cut you off.

“…Assassins disguised as apples exist,” he countered and you froze for a moment. Shachi choked on laughter behind you and you took a deep breath not to let the laughter that was already bubbling up inside you break free.

When the vendor smiled at you, Law leaned forward from your shoulders like a tiny mafia boss. “She’s taken.”

The man blinked confused “Okay well that's good, I guess..... and by who?”

“Me,” Law exclaimed firmly, leaving no room for doubt.

“Buddy,” you laughed, “you’re six.”

“And armed,” he snapped.

“Emotionally.” You patted his leg and looked up slightly as your brain processed his words. “And I really hope you left the scalpels on the ship”

Later, back on the submarine, you all sat together for a small debrief about the supplies you had gathered, when Law suddenly climbed into your lap and the whole room went silent. Ikkaku looked like she was going to combust from cuteness, Bepo’s eyes were wide and Shachi and Penguin's jaws dropped before turning into a mischievous smile. 

“Looks like you're officially claimed (Y/N)” Jean Bart huffed though a small smile tugged at his lips.

“More like possessed” you laughed. “Or haunted, I'm still debating.”

Law shifted on your lap. “I am strategically positioned,” he chimed in.

“You’re literally holding her hand,” Penguin pointed out.

“…Stability support,” Law said stiffly, making you squeeze his hand.

“Medical necessity,” you added with a wink.

Later that evening, when the submarine was calm and the lights were low, Law sat beside you, shoulder pressed to your side. “…If I stop monitoring you,” he muttered, “something bad could happen.”

“Or,” you said gently, glancing at him, “you just feel safe near me.”

He scrunched his nose and furrowed his brow. “…That’s illogical.”

“Still true,” you said and he sighed. 

“…Don’t move,” he added anyways.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you smiled. And somewhere deep in that six-year-old brain, something old and familiar settled into place, a bond between you and him that had thrived and bloomed when he had been an adult. 

That night as you walked into your cabin you stopped mid-stride and smirked. Because right there, sitting dead center on your bed like he owned it, was tiny Law, methodically fluffing and repositioning his pillow with intense concentration. He even lined it up with military precision. “Care to tell me what you're doing?” You asked leaning against the doorframe.

He didn't even look up. “Optimizing sleeping conditions.”

“In my bed,” you blinked.

He patted the spot beside him once, decisively. “Yes.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

He finally looked at you, eyes narrowed like you were the one being unreasonable. “You thrash in your sleep,” he said. “Your breathing pattern changes when you’re stressed. If I’m not present, your vitals may destabilize.”

“You followed me to my bunk because of my vitals?” You snorted because that was such a Law excuse for 'I want to stay close to you but I'm too stubborn to admit it'.

He scrunched his nose a bit and then tilted his head. “Yes.”

“And the pillow?” you asked nodding towards where he had aligned it.

“Support,” he stated like it was totally logical.

“For who.”

“…Me,” he explained.

You pushed off the doorframe and stepped up to him, fighting a smile. “You realize you have your own bunk, right?”

“It’s inefficiently placed. Also I can hear Shachi snore through the walls,” he scowled.

You knew it was true, you remembered adult Law often coming to your bed because of it. “That’s not my problem,” you said crossing your arms.

“It is now,” he stated as a matter of fact and something tugged inside you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, deliberately and intentionally close. “So what—you’re just moving in?”

“I am not moving in,” he pouted, stiffly. Though it looked a lot like it.

“Could've fooled me,” you chuckled but then exhaled “then enlighten me please about what this is?” 

“I’m conducting an overnight observation,” he explained in his doctor voice and it was just too adorable considering he was only six.

“How long is this ‘observation’?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He studied you for a moment and then narrowed his eyes as if thinking thoroughly. “…Indefinite.”

There it was, the tiny moment that made it clear he was totally moving in. “Law,” you sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair.

“…You said I shouldn’t be alone when my head's too loud or too quiet.” he said looking away and you froze, because that, that was something you had never said to tiny Law, but to adult Law you used to say that regularly. And it always led to him ending up in your bed. You looked at him and felt something pull at your heart, your expression softening, while he gripped his pillow tighter, jaw set like he was bracing for rejection he absolutely would not acknowledge.

You kicked off your boots, crawled into the bed and lay down. “Fine.”

His head snapped toward you, he was mid-protest when he realized that you hadn't rejected him. “Fine?” He asked surprised.

“Fine,” you repeated. “But you’re not hogging the blankets.”

“I don’t hog,” he grumbled.

You smiled because you knew that, just like adult Law, he would definitely end up hogging all the blankets throughout the night. “You absolutely do.”

“That’s a rumor,” he protested, puffing his cheeks out. 

You laughed and reached over, tugging your pillow closer to him. “Yes you do, come on now, time to rest. I'm gonna rub it in your face tomorrow after you wake up with all the blankets,” you teased. 

He hesitated for precisely one second before he settled beside you, stiff as a plank, clearly pretending this was purely logistical and for medicinal purpose. “…If you tell anyone,” he muttered, “I will deny this ever happened.”

“I know,” you grinned at the ceiling, “they already know though,” you added. “They always know.”

A moment passed and you felt him relax and get comfortable. It was weird to have tiny Law next to you where usually the adult version would be. “…Your bed smells familiar,” he suddenly mumbled. 

You smirked, a tiny bit glad he said that even if it was not what you expected but it told you that he at least remembered more and more parts of his adult self. “…That’s a weird thing to say but I guess not entirely wrong.”

“…It’s reassuring,” he added quickly. “Not weird.” He inched closer, not enough to admit that he was doing this, just enough that his shoulder pressed into your arm. “…Don’t move,” he murmured.

“Monitoring my vitals again?” you asked smiling.

“…Yes.” His fingers curled into your sleeve, for medicinal purpose of course. You looked down at him and your gaze softened before leaning your head down to rest against his.

During the night he seemingly had a nightmare. No yelling, no trashing, nothing grand but you heard the sharp intake of breath, followed by another and another, it came too fast and too shallow and you knew that sounds just too well. Law’s small shoulders were tight, drawn up like he was bracing for impact. His fingers clawed into the blanket, knuckles white, breath hitching in short, uneven bursts. 

You immediately turned onto your side, feeling his body already stiffen. You pulled him closer till his back fitted into your chest. Until the space between you both disappeared. You slid an arm around him, firm and steady, hand resting over his middle, not trapping, not restraining, just there.

Your body seemed to already know what to do. Adult Law’s nightmares were different, heavier of course. He’d wake rigid and cold, jaw clenched, breath shallow like he was still bracing for pain that never came. You could never pull him fully into you then, he was too tall for that, but you’d hold him anyway. A hand on his back. Fingers interlaced with his. Your forehead pressed to his shoulder while you whispered him back into the present. Sometimes he’d let you nuzzle into his side. Other times he’d lean into you, rest his head on your stomach or snuggle into the crook of you neck until the shaking stopped. He never talked about them but he never had to. 

So when tiny Law pressed into your chest, instinctively seeking the same anchor, it didn't surprise you, it just hurt a little because the shape was different, even though the fear was the same. Your chest ached, it pained you every time to see him so vulnerable. You didn't want to wake him fully and startle him even more so you tucked his head gently beneath your chin, his hair tickling your neck softly.

“…No,” he whispered, barely audible. “Don’t—”

At first, he kept trashing and mumbling, his body tense but then instinct took over. His breathing stuttered before it started to slow down again. You felt the exact moment his body registered safety as you felt the tension draining out of his shoulders, the sharp edge of fear dulled as your heartbeat pressed warm and steady against him.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” you murmured softly, barely more than air while kissing the top of his head.

He made a small sound, not quite a word but something close to it. His hands relaxed, one drifting to grip your sleeve like he did when he was overwhelmed, fingers curling tight. “…You stayed,” he mumbled, half-asleep.

“Of course. I’m here, I'll always be” you answered immediately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“…Good,” he whispered groggily.

Your arm tightened just a little in a protective way. Your thumb traced small, absentminded circles, something you used to do without realizing it, something that always worked. His breathing evened out the same way it always did, like some part of him recognized this even if his mind didn’t fully yet.

By the time sleep took him again, his grip on your sleeve was firm but calm, no panic left in it, just certainty. And as you lay there in the dark, holding the smaller, more vulnerable version of the man you loved you realized something quietly devastating. Even without his memories, even without completely knowing why, he still knew where home was.

His back was warm against your chest, small, fragile and so different yet also so familiar. He exhaled, long and slow and more importantly safe. “…You always do this,” he mumbled and you almost didn't hear it.

“Do what?” you asked quietly, your heart stuttering.

“…Stay.”

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah,” you breathed. “I do.”

He shifted just a little, fitting closer, trusting the space you made for him without hesitation. And you realized, softly and painfully, that nothing had changed where it mattered because Law instinctively knew where his anchor was. It was the same unspoken truth, that whenever the darkness settled in, you were where Law found the light again.

The rest of the night passed peacefully and the morning sun was warm, but the weight next to you was warmer. The light, fidgety presence of the six-year-old was gone. In his place was a solid, heavy expanse of muscle and heat that pinned you firmly to the mattress. You didn't need to open your eyes to know that the ‘tiny menace’ had outgrown his clothes overnight.

You felt a large, calloused hand slide from your arm to your waist, pulling you flush against a chest that was now broad and covered in familiar ink.

“Law?” you breathed, looking at the man holding you.

He shifted, a low, gravelly groan vibrating against your skin, a sound far too deep to belong to a child. He didn't pull away. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hitching as he inhaled the scent he had called ‘reassuring’ only hours before.

“I remember everything,” he finally muttered, his voice a dark, velvety rasp. “The bear pajamas. The fruit murder. The 'assassin apples'. I remember you holding my hand in the crowd because you didn't want to lose me.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were now burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. The walls he usually kept between you, the sarcasm, the professional distance, the secret moments between you two, had been dismantled by his own childhood vulnerability. For a long time, the two of you had played a game of ‘almosts’ and ‘sort-ofs,’ never quite labeling the bond that kept you tethered to one another.

“You said I wasn't alone ,” he whispered, his thumb tracing your jawline. “You stayed when my head was too loud. I’ve spent years pretending I didn't need that. I'm done pretending.”

He leaned in, kissing you with a desperate, lingering heat that served as his official signature on the ‘thing’ you had both been too stubborn to name.

After a long moment, he pulled back, a familiar, wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, the one that usually meant trouble for the rest of the world, but was making your heart flutter. “However,” he added, his eyes dancing with a playful glint you hadn't seen in years. “We have a bit of a legal issue to settle.” 

You raised an eyebrow looking a bit confused at him, not sure what he was referring to. “Oh?” you laughed, leaning into his touch. “And what's that, Captain?”

“You put the Surgeon of Death in a timeout chair ,” he rumbled, his grip tightening possessively as he flipped you beneath him, his tall frame looming over you with a predatory sort of affection. “Twice. It was, as I recall, 'humiliation'.”

“Okay it was not humiliation, you were being a tyrant! A cute one though” you countered, grinning.

“I was 'establishing boundaries',” he corrected, his nose brushing against yours. “And now that I'm back to my full height, I think the 'Captain-sitter' is the one who needs to be confined. I’m thinking of an indefinite sentence right here in this bed. Resistance is useless.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. “I think I can live with that sentence.”

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his heart beating a steady, rhythmic promise against yours. “Because I’m never letting go.”

You felt your stomach flip in the best way and smiled warmly and genuinely at him, so happy to have him back. “Neither am I. I really loved your tiny version but I think this one, this scary, grumpy and broody version of you with the more imposingly scowl fits a bit better for me,” you purred, lips brushing his in an almost kiss again. “I'm glad to have you back Law,” you added softer now.

“I'm glad to be back, even though you handled my smaller self really good but I missed doing this” he said and kissed you again, deeply and full of love.

“I love you,” you mumbled into the kiss and you felt the tug at his lips.

“Love you too, Captain-sitter,” he teased and held you close both of you realizing how much you needed each other and clearly not letting go of each other.

Perhaps the first spark of warmth had appeared that morning when he had turned half the office upside down.

“Think a little harder about where it could be,” he hissed at the poor, innocent Bepo, who had only been trying to help.

A part of him already regretted snapping at his oldest friend, but he had never been able to suppress that restless irritation whenever things refused to go according to plan.

He needed a particular medical journal, and only a few days earlier the crew had organized a thorough cleaning of the Polar Tang. Everyone had been given their own section. Shachi had taken care of the engine room, Penguin the kitchen, Ikkaku the common room, while Bepo had somehow drawn the unfortunate task of organizing the office of the world’s greatest perfectionist.

Now, after failing to find the journal within the first two minutes of searching, Law had all but descended into a minor breakdown.

The immaculate state of the room, the crisp scent of antiseptic mingling with the delicate citrus diffuser Bepo had thoughtfully placed there because he knew it was his captain’s favorite, did absolutely nothing to improve his mood.

Meanwhile, Bepo was beginning to panic.

He had always been diligent, and he had been certain he’d done everything exactly as instructed, especially after Law had practically breathed down his neck during the entire process… right until you had shooed the captain out of the office and dragged him away to your shared room. Every book had been returned to its carefully designated place on the shelves. The desk was arranged with near mathematical precision, every pen and instrument sorted according to its material, purpose, and size.

So where in the world could those medical journals have disappeared to?

As though summoned by fate itself, your cheerful face peeked through the half-open doorway.

“Are you boys finished yet?”

You were greeted by quite the familiar sight.

Bepo stood frozen with both paws pressed against his cheeks, ears drooping anxiously, while your Surgeon of Death glared at the room with knitted brows, looking every bit like a man quietly contemplating the systematic elimination of his entire crew.

“No!”

“Help!”

You blinked, somewhere between puzzled and entirely accustomed to their dramatics.

“Is everything alright?”

Law exhaled sharply before turning toward you with an exasperated look.

“No. I can’t find this month’s issues of the Journal of Clinical Research, the East Blue Journal of Anesthesiology, the West Blue Medical Ethics Review… or any of the others.”

“You mean these?”

You lifted a heavy storage box brimming with journals, while your other hand held an equally overstuffed bag.

“The rest are still in our room. I was just about to go get them. Remember? We agreed we’d keep them out of the office while everyone was cleaning.”

…Right.

Law’s gaze slowly drifted toward the polar bear, who brightened so dramatically that, had his tail been any longer, it would have knocked both of you over with the force of its wagging.

“I… overlooked that detail,” the doctor admitted reluctantly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Uh… sorry, Bepo.”

“No problem, Captain!”

Law gave a small nod.

“But… you should still be a little more careful with my things.”

You placed the box and bag on the floor before turning toward the hallway.

“Well, maybe you should organize your office yourself next time,” you muttered over your shoulder. “Since apparently neither Bepo nor I can do it properly.”

“No…”

The Heart Pirates’ captain sounded almost shy.

“I like the way he arranges my instruments… and the way you label everything. You always choose scents subtle enough that they help me think instead of distracting me.”

After the briefest pause, he added quietly,

“You’re both better at it than I am.”

You exchanged matching, toothy smiles with Bepo, whose relief was so overwhelming he looked ready to collapse onto the nearest couch for a well-earned nap.

“I’m glad to hear that, Captain,” he said, making a remarkably swift escape before Law had the chance to notice that the encyclopedia on osteology had been shelved after myology instead of before it.

Law watched him disappear before leaning closer to you, curiosity gradually replacing his earlier frustration. His chin nearly brushed your shoulder as he peered toward the mysterious bags.

“What’s in there?” he asked, his tone only barely disguising the fact that he was really looking for an excuse to be close to you.

A smile tugged at your lips. You subtly shifted the bag farther from his line of sight.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

You reached for the doorknob, but the tall doctor had already followed after you, muttering under his breath that he’d help after all, if only because you were impossibly stubborn.

The last bag landed on the floor with a heavy thud, bulging awkwardly from whatever solid contents it held.

“There!” you announced brightly. “Welcome to paradise for nitpicky people like you.”

He rolled his eyes, though his curiosity had clearly won.

“What exactly are you planning?”

You knelt on the floor and began arranging a collection of narrow storage boxes in different colors. Each one had an empty label waiting to be filled, and from somewhere among your seemingly endless supplies you produced your ever-present assortment of pens and markers.

“See? Everything related to bones and new fracture treatments can go in the white one. Cardiology belongs in the red one, neurology in the blue… Actually, you know what?” Your eyes suddenly lit up. “I could even draw a little symbol on every label so you’ll recognize them even faster.”

You had already uncapped a marker, carefully writing the first label before sorting through the towering stack of journals beside you.

Law simply watched.

There was something dangerously close to wonder in his eyes.

You had paid attention to one of his countless, absurdly specific organizational habits, habits most people would dismiss as eccentric or obsessive, and somehow managed to come up with a solution he hadn’t even realized he needed.

Quietly, he lowered himself to the floor beside you. His large hand settled over yours where it rested against the floor before gently taking the marker from your fingers.

“It would be much more logical to use the green box for hepatobiliary medicine rather than anatomical diagrams,” he said, already sketching out an entirely new system. “Considering the range of subjects, the most efficient arrangement would be…”

And so he continued, explaining every meticulous detail behind his categorization with the enthusiasm of someone discussing the most fascinating subject in the world.

Though if anyone had asked him later what the two of you had been doing that afternoon, he would have answered, with complete sincerity, that you’d simply been enjoying a pleasant conversation while organizing medical journals.

He would never admit that somewhere between color-coded labels and spirited debates over anatomy and medical specialties, a feeling he had believed lost forever had quietly found its way back to him, wrapping itself around his heart with the warmth and familiarity of home.

The Heart Pirates regarded your relationship with a kind of reverent fascination.

Your flawless communication, carried out with scarcely a word exchanged between you, had become something of a phenomenon aboard the Polar Tang. It amused the crew to no end, and whenever they happened to witness another one of your silent interactions, they would inevitably gather later to discuss it as though filing reports on an inexplicable natural occurrence.

“It’s actually kind of eerie,” Penguin muttered as he and Shachi peeked around the corner of the hallway.

Inside the office, the captain had reached absentmindedly toward his desk for something, only to frown when his hand met empty space. He began rifling through the scattered papers without even lifting his gaze from the report he was reading. Before his search had the chance to become an actual distraction, you quietly placed the missing folder into his waiting hand.

He accepted it without surprise.

The only acknowledgment was a grateful nod and the faintest curve of a smile before his attention drifted back to the page. A moment later, he tapped the desk three thoughtful times.

Without hesitation, you handed him the special fountain pen he preferred whenever annotating noteworthy medical discoveries.

“They're like an old married couple of mimes” Shachi whispered in astonishment.

Neither of you seemed aware of what you were doing anymore.

A few minutes later, Law instinctively reached for his teacup while continuing to read, only to discover it empty. Before his fingers could close around it, you had already refilled it, setting it back beneath his hand so naturally that he barely paused before taking another sip.

Sometimes the crew wondered whether you shared a language no one else could hear.

Perhaps the stubborn little spark of love had settled somewhere inside him on evenings when you would appear outside his office carrying his reading glasses in one hand and a fresh cup of coffee in the other.

Or perhaps it had been those quieter moments later that same night, when exhaustion finally claimed him. He would fall asleep with a book still open across his lap, and you would gently remove his glasses before they could dig into his face, placing them on the bedside table before pulling the blanket over his shoulders.

He had been convinced it would settle eventually.

That was the peculiar part.

From time to time, the thought would return to him.

He had assumed that once he finally admitted it, first to himself and then to you, love would simply become another quiet certainty, something steady and familiar.

Instead, it kept discovering new places to live.

It had begun somewhere beneath his ribs.

Then it occupied every idle thought, filling them with your endlessly kind eyes, your infectious smile, the comforting warmth of your hand wrapped around his, the skilled fingers lazily combing through his hair after impossibly long days.

Now it revealed itself in moments so ordinary they should have passed unnoticed.

Watching you laugh from the other side of the room.

Finding one of your little handwritten notes tucked between the pages of whatever book he happened to open.

Discovering a glass of water and his daily vitamins already waiting on his desk before he’d even remembered he ought to take them.

Realizing you’d quietly mended the tear in his famous hat or stitched the loose seam of one of his shirts without mentioning it.

Feeling your hand search for his beneath the blankets while you slept.

Every day it reached a little farther than it had the day before.

And every time he convinced himself he had reached the limits of what he could possibly feel for you, you somehow proved him wrong.

Another absentminded kiss pressed against his temple as you wandered past his desk.

Another shopping list, meticulously prepared before he had even remembered the submarine needed new supplies or medical equipment, containing every single item he would eventually have written down himself.

“You’ve become remarkably efficient,” he had teased once.

“I’ve picked up a few tricks from our resident perfectionist.”

Another quiet, “I made your favorite,” waiting for him after an especially demanding day, accompanied by grilled fish and fresh salad already laid out on the table.

His mind wandered through countless little scenes.

You persuading him to leave his office long enough to read with you on the deck whenever the submarine surfaced, just to catch a little sunlight.

You appearing beside him with a glass of water after his fourth cup of coffee, firmly enforcing the caffeine limit no matter how passionately he protested every single time.

“I’m the doctor,” he had argued with all the dignity he could muster. “I think I know what I’m doing. Caffeine stimulates the release of dopamine and norepinephrine, improving alertness and concentration, which is rather useful aboard a submarine like this. Besides…”

“Besides,” you interrupted sweetly, “it also ruins what little sleep you already get, causes heart palpitations, and can aggravate stomach ulcers.”

He had accepted the water with a long-suffering sigh.

Love had become infuriatingly ambitious.

It refused to remain where it had first begun.

Instead, it wandered through every hidden corner of him until even the smallest moments had become irrevocably saturated with you.

It wasn’t that the Surgeon of Death didn’t want to express his gratitude.

Quite the opposite.

He was painfully aware of how much lighter the burdens life had placed upon his shoulders had become simply because you now carried part of them with him.

The difficulty lay elsewhere.

He had never quite learned how.

So his gratitude found quieter forms.

Sometimes he would simply slide his untouched dessert onto your plate because he knew how hopelessly fond you were of sweets.

If the submarine was due to dive at sunset, he might postpone it just long enough for the two of you, and by extension the rest of the crew, to enjoy a few more precious minutes beneath a sky full of stars or lingering rays of evening sunlight.

Occasionally you would return to your room to discover a novel you’d mentioned weeks ago resting neatly on the bed. Other times, opening the book you were already reading, you’d find an exquisitely engraved bookmark tucked between the pages, or perhaps the sweater you’d admired in a shop window folded carefully beside your pillow.

If he noticed, and he always noticed, that you’d skipped breakfast because you’d been helping him organize supplies or assisting with paperwork, he would silently divide his own meal in half.

On particularly rare mornings, he even cooked.

He would insist it was nothing elaborate, merely a quick and practical recipe, though you maintained he was a far better cook than he cared to admit.

And if he happened to be feeling especially bold…

“Here.”

He held out a bouquet of gerberas in varying shades of pink, their cheerful petals turned toward you.

He had chosen them because they felt ordinary enough not to seem extravagant, yet beautiful enough to deserve the smile he hoped to see.

Earlier that afternoon, most of the crew had been wandering through a small seaside town gathering supplies. At some point Law had quietly disappeared, and you had never imagined this would be the reason.

You stared at him in complete bewilderment.

“…Law? What’s the occasion?”

He shrugged.

“No occasion.”

Then, as casually as though he were commenting on tomorrow’s weather, or reciting yet another obscure medical fact, he added,

“They reminded me of you.”

You accepted the flowers with shining eyes, wearing that smile which had stolen his heart so quietly he hadn’t even realized it was happening.

“They’re beautiful.”

“So are yo…”

His brows drew together.

His eyes widened.

Heat rushed to the tips of his ears.

“I mean…”

He let out a quiet sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to be poetic.”

“Heaven forbid,” you teased. “That would be beneath the great Surgeon of Death’s dignity.”

He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck before unconsciously reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face.

“I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough.”

You smiled softly.

“For what?”

Unable to withstand the full weight your gaze, he lowered his eyes to the flowers instead.

“…For making this feel more like home.”

He would have endured that uncomfortable vulnerability a thousand times over if it meant seeing that expression again, the quiet joy that lit your entire face before you rose onto your toes and pressed the gentlest kiss against his cheek.

Perhaps that feeling found its way into the cracks of his soul during moments that seemed too insignificant to matter.

He would be buried beneath paperwork and medical journals, scarcely noticing the faint scratch in his throat. A doctor himself, he would dismiss it, as he dismissed most ailments that afflicted his own body.

And then, like the quiet arrival of morning light, there you were.

A steaming mug rested between your hands, a delicate cloud of warmth curling into the air as you placed it beside him.

One sip was enough.

“…It’s sweet,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I can taste honey… lemon… cinnamon?”

Instead of answering, you gently stroked the fuzzy line of his beard beneath his lower lip, your thumb brushing softly across his cheekbone.

“Your voice is a little rough today,” you observed. “Sounds like you’re coming down with something.”

He looked up at you, thoughtful surprise flickering across his face.

“So drink,” you said simply.

You turned to leave, but before you could take another step, his hand caught yours, long fingers weaving instinctively between your own.

He didn’t say anything at first.

He only looked at you, something so achingly tender hidden within his golden eyes that it made your heart tighten.

Then he lifted the mug again, drinking while the tea was still hot.

“You have to take care of yourself,” you reminded him softly. “Finish it while it’s warm. If you’re not in our room in fifteen minutes, I’m coming back to drag you there myself.”

You started toward the door once more.

His little finger, still hooked around yours, refused to let go.

“Stay.”

His voice was low and hoarse, the sort of voice you could never have resisted, even if you’d wanted to.

With the gentlest tug, he drew you back to him.

Every now and then the notoriously spoiled captain would grumble whenever the crew, eager for variety, prepared a snack containing the particular kind of carbohydrate he loathed above all others.

Bread.

Without complaint, you would simply prepare a separate portion for him.

“For my favorite brat,” you would announce, placing the plate before the pouting doctor before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Law would huff in mock indignation, all the while feeling his heart stumble embarrassingly against his ribs.

“…Thank you,” he would mumble under his breath.

On other occasions, if Penguin happened to be making onigiri, you quietly made sure to set aside every rice ball filled with umeboshi before they ever reached Law’s plate, hoping to spare everyone the entirely predictable spectacle that would otherwise follow.

Entirely unsuspecting, Law would bite into one of the soft, pillowy rice triangles, only for the aggressively salty, piercingly sour pickled plum to burst across his tongue.

He stiffened instantly.

Like a cat whose dignity had just been profoundly insulted.

“Th-this…” His irritation mounted with every syllable. “YOU KNOW I CAN’T STAND UMEBOSHI.”

Penguin immediately lifted both hands in surrender.

“Captain, everyone else likes them! Your completely rational ban on umeboshi aboard the submarine just wasn’t going to happen!”

Before Law could continue his increasingly dramatic protest, you quietly held out a napkin and switched your plates.

“Spit it out if you hate it that much.”

You took a bite from your own rice ball.

“Mine don’t have any. Besides, I don’t really have a preference.”

Law simply stared at you.

A faint blush crept over his cheeks, partly because of the gesture itself, partly because you were shamelessly babying him in front of the entire crew.

Strangely enough…

He didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Now eat,” you urged, gently nudging his plate toward him. “I’ll point out which ones are safe. I watched Penguin make them.”

He nodded quietly before giving your hand a grateful squeeze beneath the table.

“You can repay me later with chocolate” you teased. “I need something sweet to erase that sourness from my tongue.”

Law rolled his eyes, already knowing perfectly well that you would have ended up with chocolate regardless.

“I never doubted it.”

The hurried footsteps caught his attention even before the door to his office swung open a heartbeat later.

You were radiant.

Slightly out of breath, practically glowing with excitement, wearing a smile so bright it stretched from ear to ear. That wonderfully infectious smile. The one that somehow managed to brighten every room before you even spoke.

The corners of Law’s lips lifted into an amused smile.

“And what exactly warrants this much excitement?” he asked, one eyebrow arching. “Don’t tell me you simply missed m…”

He stopped.

Until that moment, both of your hands had remained hidden behind your back.

Now you brought them forward, presenting him with the newest issue of Sora, Warrior of the Sea.

Its brilliant blue cover shimmered beneath the cabin lights, waves crashing behind the heroic figure who had accompanied so much of your boyfriend’s childhood and, if he were honest, quite a bit of his adulthood as well.

“…How did you get this?”

There was genuine reverence in his voice.

He accepted the comic almost cautiously, as though afraid it might disappear if he held it too tightly, already turning the pages while knowing full well how the rest of his evening, and likely half the night, would unfold.

Perhaps the two of you would read it together until sleep inevitably claimed you first.

Tomorrow he would undoubtedly recount every chapter to you anyway, complete with elaborate theories and observations you’d hear regardless.

“I have my ways,” you replied with a grin, unable to stop smiling at the sight of your usually stoic captain looking so openly, almost childishly delighted.

After several long moments, he forced himself to tear his attention away from the pages.

With almost ceremonial care, he placed the comic upon his desk before turning back toward you.

The hug came so suddenly that you barely had time to squeak in surprise.

He gathered you against him with such fierce tenderness that it felt as though the boundaries between your souls had quietly dissolved, leaving behind nothing but an overwhelming warmth that only complete devotion could ever create.

His lips found your hair first.

Then your temple.

Your cheek.

Your shoulder.

Each kiss was accompanied by soft, almost inaudible murmurs, words of affection and gratitude spoken so quietly they belonged to you alone.

In the darkness of his office, illuminated only by the faint glow of the desk lamp, Law continued filling page after page with medical observations. Every passing hour stretched his work a little longer as yet another detail occurred to him, another peculiarity that simply had to be preserved before sleep could claim it.

At some point, the lock clicked softly.

He didn’t look up.

He remained absorbed in his notes, his pen moving steadily across the paper.

He would have recognized you without sight.

Blind, he thought, he would still know you by the touch of your hand, by the cadence of your footsteps echoing through the room, by the quiet rhythm of your breathing.

Even if every one of his senses were stripped away save for hearing, he would not need so much as a whisper to know it was you. Your presence alone carried a peace he could scarcely remember ever having known before.

If nothing else remained, he could have recognized you by the way his own heart changed its rhythm whenever you drew near.

Your hands settled upon his tense shoulders, your practiced fingers patiently working at the stubborn knots gathered beneath his skin.

Law released a slow, weary breath, his brows drawing together every so often as pleasant pain melted into relief, far too satisfying for him to ask you to stop.

“That’s enough,” you murmured. “Come to bed.”

He answered with something barely intelligible before, a few moments later, repeating himself more clearly.

“I’m not finished.”

His hand gently caught yours as it moved away, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“I’ll come later. You go on without me.”

You rolled your eyes.

“No.”

Your answer was as calm as it was absolute.

“It’s half past one in the morning. If you’re going to keep hiding in here, then I’ll stay with you.”

A small pause.

“But I still think you’d be much wiser to continue tomorrow. Morning is wiser than night, remember? Your thoughts will be clearer after you’ve slept instead of burning yourself out like this.”

Feigning reluctant defeat, the doctor finally rose from his chair and followed you toward your room.

The submarine was wonderfully quiet at this hour, every corridor wrapped in sleepy silence. With no one around to witness him, he slipped an arm around your waist, drawing you closer until his head rested lazily against your shoulder as the two of you wandered bleary-eyed through the dimly lit halls together.

After helping him get ready for bed, despite his repeated insistence that you stop fussing over him, Law promptly disproved every complaint he’d made about not being tired.

The moment he lay down, he stretched out across you, resting his head upon your chest as though it were the most natural place in the world to be.

Only seconds earlier, he’d been insisting he wasn’t sleepy.

His fingertips idly traced lazy circles against your waist, the edge of his goatee occasionally brushing the skin of your chest and making you twitch with a quiet laugh whenever the coarse hairs tickled, bringing an amused smile to Law's lips.

Your own fingers disappeared into his dark hair, gently scratching his scalp and absentmindedly playing with the soft strands.

“You’re going to spoil me,” he sighed, eyes already closed.

You smiled.

“You let me.”

“…I suppose I do.”

“You were a little spoiled to begin with.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Law had spent years believing that love meant protecting.

He had never imagined what it felt like to be protected in return.

Somehow, your care had slipped effortlessly past every wall he had spent years constructing. It settled first in places he could ignore, then quietly spread until there was nowhere left to escape it, taking root in every ordinary moment of his life.

It lingered in the blanket draped over his shoulders before he noticed the cold.

In the perfectly brewed coffee that somehow found its way into his hands before he even realized he wanted it.

In the quiet whispers you offered to the crew whenever he happened to fall asleep somewhere unexpected, asking them to keep their voices down just a little longer.

In the way your fingers absentmindedly searched for his whenever you walked side by side, though more often than not it was his hand that found yours first.

In the way your eyes softened each time they met his, as though reassuring both of you that he was still there and well.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember what life had felt like before someone loved him with such quiet attentiveness.

Stranger still was the hunger that love had awakened.

For years he had asked nothing of the world, convincing himself that wanting very little was the surest way to keep moving forward.

Yet now…

Now he found himself longing, helplessly and without resistance, for more.

More evenings like this.

More conversations that faded naturally into companionable silence.

More mornings waking to find you still beside him.

More absentminded strokes through his hair, your fingers wandering there as though they had always belonged.

It was a peculiar kind of yearning.

Not one born of loneliness, but of abundance.

The more of you life entrusted to him, the more impossible it became to imagine a world where every small piece of you wasn’t woven inseparably into his own.

What a strange turn of fate.

I, who once forbade myself this kind of longing… I, who spent years building walls high enough to withstand whatever cruelties life might hurl my way… have become insatiable.

"10.000 and I'll throw in one of these charms for the beautiful lady", he holds up one of the little trinkets that lie scattered across the table.

you scoff. "so because i'm pretty, you think i'm stupid?"

the man rolls his eyes the moment he realizes that his scamming tactics aren't going to work on you.

"fine", he drops his greasy salesman act and slumps back in his chair. "5.000."

you narrow your eyes at him.

"i'll take it for three."

"four", he tries.

"three."

the man glares at you, but nevertheless takes your money and fishes out a bag for you.

the sun feels hot on your skin as you navigate your way through the bustling market. it's always busier in the summer, especially in the early afternoon, and you're slowly beginning to regret your decision of going grocery shopping early today.

already exhausted, you decide to take a small break, leaning your back against a tree and finding comfort in the shadow of the leaves above your head. light falls through in tiny spots that dance on the grass by your feet. summer seems to get hotter every year in this place.

slowly, you let your eyes drift across the town square. you know this place well, every nook, every corner engraved in your mind. you know the ways of the entire island, the way the wind blows, the way the people and crowds move, the way the weather changes and the way the rain tastes.

it's hard to be surprised in a place you've been calling home for so long now, which is why you notice instantly when something feels out of place. like the tall figure hiding in the shadows of one of the buildings framing the marketplace.

you do a double take.

it's not exactly unfamiliar. but it doesn't belong here. it doesn't fit in.

your heart jumps when you recognize the slightly hunched posture and the long dark coat flowing down the silhouette.

law.

he appears to notice that you've spotted him, his eyes already carefully trained on you.

he lingers for another moment. there's too much distance between you to actually tell, but you think you notice a smug smirk playing at his lips.

then he dips his head and disappears into the shadow of a small alley. luckily, you already know where he's headed.

you waste no time in picking your bags back up and hurrying off after him, the items still left on your grocery list long forgotten as you make your way home.

law is back. finally.

how much time has it been? two months? maybe three?

when you unlock the door to your small house at the town's border he's is nowhere to be seen yet, but you can still barely contain your excitement.

god, how you've missed him.

you put down your bags and head to the kitchen to put away the food you bought, when suddenly his voice rings through your hallway, and you stop in your tracks.

"that vendor is going to cry himself to sleep tonight."

you whirl around.

law is leaning against the wall in your hallway, legs long, arms crossed and face blank.

he hasn't changed one bit since you last saw him.

his hair looks disheveled, he's not wearing his hat. he usually takes it off to be less recognizable, not wanting to raise any suspicions about his more or less frequent visits to your island. his beard is trimmed a little shorter, his jaw looks sharper - has he been eating? his eyes still hold the exact same expression you've grown to know so well.

a smile makes it's way onto your lips. "law."

his mouth quirks up the tiniest bit in response. his voice is low when he speaks.

"hi."

there's a sudden pull, a tug at your heart, like the universe is trying to balance out the distance between you at once. you can't restrain yourself any longer and surge forward, launching yourself into his arms. he catches you easily as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"miss me?", he smirks.

"only a little", you mumble against his lips.

the kiss you share is deep and filled with longing. your groceries stand forgotten on the floor next to you when you finally pull away.

"how long are you staying?", you ask a little out of breath.

there's a glint in his eyes, a tiny hint of regret when he responds.

"not long."

law lets your slide out of his arms and lowers you back to the floor. you press yourself against his chest and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

it's funny how a person who is always gone can smell more like home than the house you sleep in every night. you let yourself be enveloped in his scent and take a deep breath.

"either way, i'm happy to see you."

you know that law visits as much as he can. you know what his life is, know what his days look like, you would never hold it against him that he isn't around much. after all, you knew exactly who he was when you fell for him.

law rests his head on top of yours and burries his face in your hair. it bothers him too, to have to leave you behind. you can see it in his eyes every single time. but you know that your safety is more important to him than the pain of your frequent goodbyes. and for that you're eternally grateful.

"i'm happy to see you, too", he mumbles into your hair.

you can't help the chuckle that escapes your mouth, even as your heart flutters at the softness that lies within his words. it's rare for law to say things like this so openly and you would never miss a chance to tease him for it.

"wow", you grin and look up at him, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. "when did you become such a softie?"

law rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the smirk he bites back when he playfully pushes you aside.

he plays along with your comment. "a lot can happen in two months."

you cross your arms in front of your chest.

"oh yeah?", you grin. "what else changed then?"

law's eyes lock with yours as he takes a step forward, crowding you against the wall in your narrow hallway.

one hand lies firmly on your hip, the other one is placed against the wall next to your head when he smirks down at you.

"i could show you."

you exhale.

"please do."

august (law)

law can hear movement coming from inside the house when he leans against the frame of your front door and he nods to himself. you're home.

he would never admit it out loud but he likes to plan the way he's going to surprise you each time he visits well ahead of time. the look on your face, the spark in your eyes and that smile, the way he can feel your happiness take over the second you spot him are all things law thinks about a lot. it's a moment he looks forward to the entire time that he's away at sea.

his crew like to joke about the gone look on his face when he's daydreaming about his 'secret girlfriend' again. idiots. they're not even supposed to know about you, but apparently law isn't as low-key as he thinks when he goes off to see you.

he knocks.

almost immediately his heartbeat picks up in anticipation and law internally curses at his body. this thing between you two has been going on for long enough, he should be able to handle it without breaking out in a nervous sweat.

but then there's footsteps and then the door swings open and then there's you, and law forgets how to breathe.

you look up at him with big eyes and the next thing he knows is you in his arms, and your face pressed into his neck, and he holds you like he never wants to let you go again. and he realizes that he really doesn't.

"law", you exclaim happily and he feels that warm feeling wash over him, that feeling that only your presence can give him. even just hearing you say his name like this is heaven. law could listen to you say his name all day long.

he lets you out of his embrace just to pull you right back into a kiss.

oh, how he has missed this.

he kisses you for a short while until eventually law forces himself to pull away in order to hand you the gift he's still holding in his hand.

"you brought me flowers", you smile and take the bouquet from him.

law watches you close your eyes to smell them and takes a mental screenshot of your face. if he was an artist he would try drawing you, so that he could look at the soft expression adorning your features every single day. add that to the list of things he would never say out loud.

"thank you", you say softly.

law's heart melts. he clears his throat to cover it up.

"they don't die", he casually mentions.

you glance up at him. "what do you mean?"

"they're special", law explains, as you take a step back to finally let him inside. "they're from an island with a very unique vegetation. the local plants have cellular matter that decomposes so slowly that they outlive regular plants by centuries, even when you cut them."

he pulls the door shut behind him. "so they won't wilt."

you shake your head in disbelief, a stunned smile forming on your lips.

"so you're telling me that all this time you've never gotten me flowers because you didn't want them to be gone too soon?"

your question hits law square in the chest. he should've known that you'd see right through him.

it's true. law figured that a gift that doesn't last is useless from someone who isn't around to give you a new one once it's gone.

he tries to play it off and simply shrugs.

"aww", you coo. "law, you wanted them to last so i don't forget about you."

law gives you a look and you laugh.

"thank you", you then say earnestly. "seriously, these are beautiful."

not as beautiful as you, law thinks.

november (you)

you wake up in the late morning. sunlight spills through the curtains and into the room. you watch it throw shadows over law's sleeping form.

slowly, you let your eyes wander from his face, down his neck, over his naked torso, tracing the swirls of black ink engraved into his skin forever.

he has his left arm thrown over your waist, his legs tangled with yours. soft breaths leave his slightly opened mouth. his dark hair is a terrible mess. it suits him.

law came back two nights ago and you've been enjoying every single second of his company. life feels brighter with him there. once he's gone it always leaves you feeling like something's missing. it's not just the lack of his presence. it's as if your soul is incomplete when he's not there. it's as if he takes a part of you to sea with him.

you raise your fingers up to his face, carefully pushing back a piece of hair that has fallen into his eyes. you could watch law sleep forever. he looks so peaceful like this, so soft.

in moments like this you wonder what it must be like to only know him out there in the real world. to only ever see the surgeon of death and not this side of him, never this side. the man lying in bed next to you isn't the surgeon of death. he's simply a man.

"it's rude to stare", law mumbles into his pillow.

you breathe out a small laugh.

"so what?"

law cracks an eye open. a lazy smile hangs on his lips when he looks at you. then he pulls you closer until you're flush against his chest.

"so, i want an apology", he jokes quietly, voice still rough from sleep.

you giggle. "how about a kiss?"

law mocks a contemplating hum.

"i was thinking more like a written statement."

"okay", you shrug. "will you let me get up then?"

you feel his arms tighten around you.

"what?", he almost sounds offended. "no! why?"

"well, how else would i prepare you a written apology?"

law sighs in defeat. "i guess a verbal one will do as well."

you look up at him.

"i deeply apologize for any disturbance i may have caused you during your well-earned beauty sleep."

law snorts.

"will you forgive me?", you ask theatrically.

he looks at you carefully and raises an eyebrow.

in a fracture of a second you're being flipped onto your back with law hovering over you, his face suddenly very close to yours.

"i might", he whispers.

in a dramatic gesture, you hold a hand over your heart and fake a sniffle.

"i'll do anything for your forgiveness."

law smirks when he leans in.

"oh, will you?", he mumbles as his lips meet yours.

you sigh into the kiss, running your hands up the smooth skin on his back and tangling your fingers in his hair.

law angles his face to deepen the kiss, slowly sliding a down to your waist and under them hem of your shirt.

you pull him into you by the back of his neck, tugging slightly at his hair and he lets a low groan slip into your mouth, that makes your entire body tingle.

his lips leave yours and he kisses a trail along your jaw and down your neck. he drags his teeth over his favourite spot there, the one he knows will make you squirm and your fingers tighten around his hair as a quiet moan escapes you.

with a satisfied smirk, law's lips find yours again. he slides your shirt up further and tugs, urging you to lean up and take it off. you comply, only breaking the kiss to pull the shirt over your head. he takes it off your hands and carelessly throws it behind himself, before pushing you back down on the bed.

instead of leaning in, he hovers over you for a moment, looking at you with this soft look in his eyes you so rarely get to see.

you stare up at him and drink in the sight of late morning law. his dishevelled bed-head, the everpresent circles under his warm toned eyes, the golden earrings and the uneven breaths.

god, he's beautiful.

you let yourself drown in the moment, drown in law's eyes and his love, as he leans back down to kiss you again and again and again.

april (law)

law watches as you let yourself fall back into the fluffy grass, lifting your gaze up to the blue sky. spring came early this year on your island. it's already warm outside with the sun casting a warm glow over your skin.

there's a soft thump when he goes to lie down next to you.

"we leave in an hour."

he feels you tenderly interlock your fingers with his. a moment passes before you respond.

"i'll miss you."

law turns is head to the side and finds you already looking at him. you're beautiful in the sunlight. it brings out your eyes. he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"me too", he admits.

his heart flutters at the small smile you fail to hide at his confession, and he lets himself sink deeper into the grass, treasuring the memory of your face in this delicate moment.

you shuffle closer to him and he lets go of your hand to hold out his arm, so that you can lean your head on his shoulder. your hand finds his chest und you start drawing lazy circles onto his torso. law suppresses a content hum at the feeling.

carefully, he runs a hand through your hair and places a ghost of a kiss on the top of your head. he almost can't help it when the words slip out of his mouth.

"you know i love you, right?"

the circles on his chest stop and you shift even closer.

"yes", you confirm in a fragile whisper. "i love you too."

and so the two of you lie in the grass as law simply holds you, knowing that he'll have to let go again way too soon.

it's never enough. not a single day passes where law doesn't miss you. no matter the amount of chaos that constantly happens around him, no matter who he's fighting. he could be standing in the middle of a war and you would still be on his mind.

and law thinks to himself how cruel it is, to find love like this only to have to leave it behind. to have to keep you behind closed doors, to always keep his distance to ensure your safety. and he silently makes a promise to himself, that one day, after everything is over, he'll take you with him and you'll never have to be apart again.