Chapter Text
Luffy worried about little things: dents in his second-hand canteen, rips in his insect net, pebbles in his shoes. He worried about losing things—little but important things, like his favorite shirt that read TA-PIO-KA, the funny leaf that looked like Dadan’s face when he held it up to the sun and light shone through its veins, the crude slingshot Sabo had made for him, Shanks’ old straw hat smelling of iron and brine.
But for the most part, romping through Midway Forest and the Gray Terminal, he had only himself to worry about and he was a little thing too, smaller than everyone else, younger and easier to lose. When Ace and Sabo laughed without him, he felt smaller still. He didn't think they did it to be mean; he thought maybe sometimes they just forgot to notice him. He made sure to be extra loud, all the time, so they wouldn't forget. He was afraid of being left behind while his brothers were running ahead.
And Sabo did run ahead, all by himself. He left Luffy and Ace behind to wipe grief from their eyes. It wasn't fair.
Now Luffy could taste nothing but dirt and fear as he lay facedown and alone on the cliff overlooking the sea, where the three of them had sloshed their drinks in the way that boys did, and sworn brotherhood in the way that men did. That seemed ages ago, but the memory was still bright and vivid in the back of his mind, brilliant greens and blues, the clink of their cups like Makino’s seashell wind chimes, their voices loud and without echo under the wide, open sky.
But Sabo was gone, and the brightness and vividness of that memory cast Sabo’s absence as a long, bleak shadow that followed Luffy wherever he went and Luffy could not avoid treading on it, on Sabo’s memory, though it hurt his heart to do so.
All this time Luffy was worrying about little things like himself when he should have been paying attention to other things—his brothers, their promises, the soft noises of their breathing in the dark—should have kept them close like Shanks’ straw hat. He did not know what to do with the goodbye coiled heavy on his tongue, fearful that if he swallowed it, it would grow into a snake in his belly, and he could not spit it out because Sabo was not there to hear it and Luffy could not bear the thought of it sinking down to the ocean floor like Sabo's ship. Like Sabo.
A heavy weight landed on his shoulders, pressing him into the ground. He shuddered and the world shuddered with him, everything going fuzzy around the edges with hurt and longing. In the end Luffy wasn't able to keep up, he was too small, and Ace, even Ace was small now that Luffy knew a sadness as big as Mount Colubo.
And in this fuzziness, in this crush and wild panic and radiating grief, a familiar voice sounded suddenly, deep like those hidden caves that swallowed up their torchlight, and it seemed to come from within and around and below. It asked him, Will you grow?
It was the same voice he heard back when Ace and Sabo had stood before him with uncertainty in their eyes and knives in their hands, when Porchemy and his gang had strung him up, and whenever he was lost and alone in the Forest late at night—a voice that would tell him, You will not give in.
Now it asked him, Will you grow strong enough to move mountains?
How could Luffy answer, when all he had in his mouth was Sabo's name and a goodbye he could not make sense of, how it could exist with no purpose, why Sabo had left without it. But Luffy also knew—he wanted Sabo back, he wanted Ace safe, he wanted to beat his fists into whomever would dare keep them from the blue, sunlit freedom of the ocean. He wanted to be strong enough to move mountains and bare the line of the horizon for anyone who would claim it for the taking.
So Luffy sobbed, I want, so earnest it scraped his throat raw. I want, I want, I want!
How strong?
The strongest!
The weight on his shoulders pushed down harder, like hands, massive and unyielding. It hurt. It hurt, but he thought of Sabo and he thought of sinking and he thought of how they had sat on this cliff and dreamed and something bloomed fast and livid inside him.
Tell me why, the voice demanded.
Because, Luffy gasped. Because there are people I love and I can't lose them too! Ace and Makino and even Dadan! Even Gramps! I love them. I love them.
Little one—the voice rolled through him in dips and rises, reverberated in the back of his throat—do you believe you can?
Luffy's bones felt hot, like they had been scorched by the sun. The weight disappeared and the sudden absence of it made his shoulder blades feel sharp. He stayed facedown, trembling, feeling like he could dissipate into nothing if not for that dark, greedy, livid something to anchor him.
Will you help me, he whispered into the wild, green grass, the smell of earth filling his head. Will you help me get stronger so that I won’t lose Ace too?
From the ground, from the nearby mountains that once housed volcanoes, there came a long, slow rumble that Luffy could feel in his teeth.
You’re strong, Luffy said. I know it, I feel it. I can become strong like you. You’ll help me. Right?
The earth quaked; the ocean churned and pressed closer.
You will not balk at anything, the voice commanded, thunderous, and Luffy could feel that fierce heat suffusing his bones again and pooling between his shoulder blades, between the knuckles of his hands, all through his limbs.
I won’t, he promised. I won’t.
I grant you strength here, the voice said and the pressure like hands on his shoulders returned, firm but no longer crushing. With it, will you carry the burden of others?
I will, he growled, his blood coursing fast, fast, fast, his skin glowing and burning to the touch. I will!
Will you bring the world to its knees? WIll you diminish your own life for the strength to protect?
I will. I will. I will!
Little one, the voice called, low and old and rumbling, the promise of newness and greatness towering, terrifying, inescapable. Will you grow?
And Luffy wept, the grief flowing dense and heavy and extraordinary from his chest, taste of dirt and life in his mouth. He pressed his forehead into the grass, balled his hands into fists, promised himself, I will grow, I will grow, I will grow. I will protect everyone.
He felt the tremors again, like mountains moving, the world shifting to bear his new weight. The birds and beasts and buzzing insects of the forest were all hushed and still. In their silence he could hear the roaring and singing of his blood, the hiss of steam, the frenzied pounding of his heart desperate to keep up, to give until it gives out. He could bring down empires like this, with his own small hands, he could bring the earth's core to the surface and create a new sun, he would, stretch as far as the Grandline goes, and then farther, until he found that faraway place where Sabo had to be waiting for his goodbye.
He lay there on the cliff, sobbing, listening to the far-off waves. They will bear him away some day. Slowly, the heat in him subsided, leaving him drained and boneless and panting until Ace came and found him.
Ace punched him in the head, demanded, “How long are you going to carry on like that, you crybaby?"
“Ace.” Luffy could not help shaking still, but he swallowed, pulling his straw hat low over his eyes. “I will get stronger!”
The brush of fingertips across his shoulders, and a molten warmth that pulsed beneath his skin like new magma, and a voice that said, Yes.
You will grow.