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Summary
Every time that nightmare started, Luffy would stare into those brilliant eyes, begging him to tell him what color they were even as no words came from his mouth. But every time the wound on his chest would burst from the inside out and rather than answer, the man would reach out to him, panic in those beautiful eyes, written all over his colorful face.
He would save Luffy but nothing that he did could save that man from his fate. No matter how much he tried to scream, how often he tried to tell him, the man with those beautiful eyes would die in a flash of blood. And then he had to sit and watch all the color drain away from him until black stole him from the world and Luffy woke, his breath uneven and broken.
Or...
Colorblind for his whole life, a pop of color and a series of nightmares he can't explain has Luffy wishing to hold on even as death surrounds it.