Chapter Text
I’ve been thinking this for a while now.
“We can’t keep this up for much longer, guys, this isn’t safe—”
“Wait.”
Franky swears as he deflects another cannonball, shrapnel scattering on the deck in all directions; a piece bounces off the rail and slices open Luffy’s shoulder. Luffy doesn’t react.
“Just wait.”
I get it. Just get rid of your dead weight and move on, right?
The smoke is getting unbearable, the smell of gunpowder and flame settling thick in the air around them; Chopper lets out an involuntary shriek as another shot whips towards him, only to be caught in time by Zoro’s blade, the two neat halves of iron skidding across the lawn and dragging the soil behind them. Zoro exhales, glancing over at his captain; Luffy is stood with his fists clenched, unmoving; his eyes fixed desperately on the tiny figure standing on the dock.
Usopp seems like he could be a mirage; cannons and bullets sail past him on all sides, destroying the surrounding beach; somehow he stands unscathed, frozen in time, too far away now for them to see his face. As if the marines couldn’t see him, small and brown-green, blending into the surroundings. Come on, come on.
You’re always looking forward to the future. But I can’t be like that.
The assault rages louder every passing second; Sanji grunts at the impact as he deflects a shot aimed squarely at Luffy, cursing at him to pay attention as he dodges another bullet that sails past his ear and trims off the end of a lock of hair. Luffy doesn’t move, a stone bulwark amidst the chaos, the only still thing in sight as everyone else darts about, weapons firing, voices rising with the panic; on the docks, Usopp’s small figure goes down to its knees, shoulders shaking. The Thousand Sunny seems to hold its breath.
You guys are too strong. I can’t keep up any more.
The seconds seem to slow, rendering the world to a blur of explosions and distorted voices, gunmetal-grey and black; Luffy and Usopp are clear-cut and still against the smoke, the only two people in the world. Come on, Zoro urges. Come on. They’re all thinking it, the unified hope so palpable in the air that you could cut it with a knife. The stink of desperation at the end of the world.
Luffy, you’re the man who’s going to be king of the pirates. I was just lucky to make it this far.
Whistling like a firework, a low cannonball slams into the ship’s hull and the deck tilts, incrementally at first and then all at once; the waves crash and rock against the sides of the ship in wrath, and the crew breaks out in a clamor of shock and panicked voices as they slip to the side; Robin sprouts hands across the starboard side of the ship and links them up to the mast in a chain, forming a net that Nami and Chopper fall against with relieved cries, bouncing back onto the deck as the ship rocks back upright, creaking with every sway. Zoro’s sword is stabbed into the lawn and he clutches onto it to steady himself as the rocking slowly ceases; seawater has sprayed onto the deck, rushing against the sides of his boots. Luffy still hasn’t moved, his hands gripped against the stern railing the only sign that he’d noticed the cannon hit at all.
“Luffy,” he warns.
“Wait.”
“Devil’s at the door,” Franky mutters, moving towards the control hatch.
Wherever I go now, that’s my business. It’s nothing to do with you.
There’s two more bangs, bullets flying past; on the docks, Usopp’s head is lifted towards them, the world slowing down. The crew hold their breath and are silent; Luffy’s fingernails dig into the wooden beams and splinter them. The voice rings out across the sea like the Skypeia bell, striking into them, louder than any of the gunshots, louder than the cannons, louder than the waves.
“I’m—!”
Bang.
I’m leaving the crew. This is goodbye.
The silence falls on them heavy, like a punch in the stomach. They’re in freefall, hurtling towards the impact, no one ready to brace for the cold hard ground; breath hitched, blood pounding in their ears so loud it drowns out the carnage. Deafening, deafening silence. Robin covers Chopper’s eyes.
Then Nami screams like she’s been gutted, shrill and blood curdling, and they all watch the red flower bloom on the docks, spreading wide across Usopp’s grass-green shirt. His final words are spoken in another language, gurgling out, dripping from the sides of his mouth, agape in shock, as he looks down at his chest. As always, Usopp is the last one to notice, trailing behind.
He looks back up at them, and starts to rise to his feet. Two more shots, bang, bang; his shoulder juts forward, bending like a scrap of paper in the wind, and then his head, a dark exit wound opening like a third eye as he sails forward, suspended in the air.
And then there is only the sound of a body hitting the water.
So long. It’s been fun.
Zoro is already moving before the pin drops, but Luffy is quicker, snapping to action like a triggered mousetrap, and his torso is already halfway off the ship railing before Zoro’s arms wrap around him and drag him back. It’s like trying to keep a bullet inside a gun. Luffy is screaming, if it could be called screaming; it’s a raw noise like an animal, guttural and primal, a sound that chills to the bone.
“Franky,” Zoro says through clenched teeth, and Franky blinks like the sound’s dragged him out of unconsciousness; he has never looked more like a robot as his pale face disappears below deck, movements unnatural and stunted. Nami is still screaming, though the sound barely registers amidst all the other noise, the wind, the waves, the gunfire; she’s sinking down to her knees like she’s been shot, too, and Sanji descends on her like a fishing net, as if to keep her from splintering apart like the cannon shrapnel had done; his own eyes still wide and glassy.
Luffy’s teeth sink into Zoro’s forearm, without restraint, and break the skin; feral. Blood, seawater, spit, tears, all run down and slick Luffy’s skin; struggling for purchase, Zoro’s nails dig in like claws, anything, anything to keep Luffy on the ship. He is taller and more muscular but Luffy is a coiled spring of pure force, his sandals kicking against Zoro’s knees, his back arched and elbows jutting out like a rabid predator as he attempts to scrabble over the side of the ship like the ocean was pulling him down. They’re all shouting over each other, things that barely register, let me go, let go, you can’t, he’s gone, we have to go. No one is listening to anyone else.
Just as Zoro is about to lose his hold and Luffy slips his grasp like a fish out of water, Robin saves them, hands sprouting from the stern of the ship and from Luffy’s sides, catching him mid-air and dragging him back, covering him, pinning him down. Luffy’s animalistic snarling has descended into a wail, the exact same pitch as Nami’s, the sound reverberating around them like a dirge.
Just one of Luffy’s arms is free from Robin’s writhing prison of limbs, and bereft of any other course of action to take he just waves it in the air, clawing at the deck, raking against the boards; his fingers leave scratches and blood in their wake like a lion’s claws, and one of his fingernails break from the impact.
“Franky!” Sanji screams, the name torn from his lips like an utterance of a dying man begging for mercy; and then the sound of a heating engine rises above the cacophonous wails, and the light from the huge cannon on the Sunny’s stern wipes out that of all the Marines’ explosions. The deck vibrates beneath them, shaking their knees, and then — coup de burst! — Water 7, the Marines, the Going Merry, and Usopp are gone, whisked away with the wind.
Luffy’s scream shakes the heavens, and the world goes white as snow.