Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Watch me…”

Jovial cheers echo seamlessly with the excited lapping of briny waves, if he closed his eyes he could imagine the sea herself was welcoming him out onto her depths. He did so briefly, if only long enough to draw in a deep breath tinged with salt, and the last barest hints of home. No amount of riches in the world could get him to keep his eyes shut during a moment like this. He’d sear this memory into his head for the one who never got to experience it himself. 

In the farthest range of his sight he could still see the bouncing form of his little brother waving him off excitedly with both hands. He was hard to miss even at a distance. One could ignore Monkey D. Luffy about as well as the Ocean could ignore the pull of the Moon. Though the swell of the tide felt like a weak comparison to the result of his influence. He was akin to a second Sun, cast to the Earth with a radiant smile, ensnaring unwitting souls deep into his orbit. Whether you liked it or not, once Luffy set his eyes on you there was no escaping him. 

Ace thought himself quite lucky, to be loved by someone so selfishly unselfish. 

His Sun’s bright laughter carries across the water, clear and pure as morning dew. And a single drawn out “SEE YOU LATER!” shouts out at the top of his baby brother’s lungs. ‘Cause Luffy never said goodbye to the people he loved. 

Warmth blooms in his chest. Fluttery and giddy it squeezes him in a nervous grip that prompts him to stand a little straighter, smile a little wider. 

It’s his seventeenth birthday, and Portgas D. Ace has finally begun the journey to fulfilling the promise he hinged his life on. Hand upon his gaudy orange cowboy hat (Luffy had presented it a day before with a flourish, and a toothy grin “So we all match!” how could he possibly refuse? He already cherished it.) Ace inhales another deep breath of salted air steeling himself. Beneath him his small vessel presses forward into the waves. This was it.

Before they came along his birthday was a painful reminder of the tainted blood in his veins, and the world that scorned his existence. A few words can go a long way for a child. In either direction. Though he knew better than some that it was much easier to be pushed into darkness than to be lead out of it. Ace thinks of a pair of smiles, one chipped the other inhumanly wide, and counts himself lucky again. Because of those two breaking down his walls they weren’t the only family he was leaving behind. 

Trailing his free hand down the brim of his hat to his neck, the teen grasps gently at the strand of red beads he snuck from Dadan’s jewelry box. They both knew she knew he took them, but neither acknowledged it, up until he stepped outside the bandit hideout for the last time, revealing the stolen necklace around his neck with a cheeky smirk. She had glared at him, and called him an ungrateful brat. (Ace pretended he hadn’t seen the way she dabbed at her eyes, and clutched her set of matching beads.) She sees him off with the other bandits, her tall form flanked by Luffy’s much smaller one, and the kind bar owner Makino. Together the group cheers, and not so discreetly wipes their eyes. 

Would they ever had grown to care about each other without Luffy barging into their lives? The freckled teen barks out a laugh.

He looks toward horizon that’s welcoming him with its endless possibilities, then with a strong sense of finality he turns back toward the island he called home for the last 17 years.

Just in time to catch Luffy’s back toward him, rapidly vanishing into the thick tree line. 

His grin slips a little. There was no reason to be disappointed, he couldn’t really expect someone with Luffy’s attention span to watch him go until he was finally out of sight, but…he kinda thought he would. Ace drops his previously waving hand, and the remaining villagers seeing him off take that as their cue to disperse. He huffs in response, not quite pouting even with the hint of melancholy trying to sour his mood. He didn’t need to prove himself to anyone anymore. 

A sudden familiar twang has him instinctively bracing for impact. None comes of course, he’s leagues out of his brother’s ‘rocket’ range, and the kid wasn’t dumb enough to slingshot himself directly into the ocean. Embarrassed by the conditioned reaction, Ace relaxes his stance, glad no one had seen. Luffy must have gone back to training already, eager to catch up to his older brother. He chuckles wryly, briefly pitying the villagers who would have to take up the task of fishing Luffy out of trouble. There was no need to worry, everyone at Windmill Village cherished the bright boy despite their grumblings at his antics, they’d be sure to take care of him in Ace’s absenc-

“Hrk!”

The air in his lungs is swiftly knocked out of him as what feels like a cannon ball collides into his chest. The force of it embraces him desperately, there’s some sort of awful sound, loud and unyielding. He doesn’t have a chance to react, let alone process what’s happening. Unceremoniously, the projectile’s momentum sends him careening backwards into churning waters. 

Cold greets him there, the shock of the temperature change welcomed as it snaps him out of his stupor. Reaching out Ace tries to claw his way back up to the surface, but finds his arms pinned to his sides. Something is strung about his middle like a vice, he struggles against it, and it tightens imperceptibly. Mind racing he registers that the vice is warm, and distinctively rubbery. Ace’s eyes snap open, too stunned to heed the sudden burn of sea water. Darkness fills his vision, and for a moment he wonders if he had passed out, but then through the distortion of the water he realizes the darkness is actually jet black hair. Oh. 

Holding onto him, arms stretched out wrapping around him thrice over is Luffy. His face buried in his older brother’s chest, eyes screwed tightly shut. 

Dumbly Ace stares down at his brother. It’s kinda serene out here, giving in to the push and pull of the sea. Perhaps he brought this on himself by underestimating his brother’s dedication, of course he wouldn’t just walk off while Ace was still in view. He cares too much. 

Ace shimmies an arm out of the devil fruit eater’s rapidly loosening grasp, and uses the other to secure him to his chest. He’s got plenty of practice doing this, it’s not long before they break the surface of the water. Ace sputters a bit, latching his free hand onto the side of his craft he pulls both him, and his little brother over the side. 

The two boys spill onto the deck in a soggy heap. Sun rays peek down at them from above curiously, warming their cold bodies. There’s nothing but the sound of the sea gently rocking against the boat as they lay there catching their breath. Coughing out a weak laugh the older teen tries to calm his thudding heart, of course Luffy would try to give him one last ‘adventure’ before they were separated. Most of Luffy’s adventures did end up something like this…

Ace flops a tired hand into the boy’s wet hair, giving it a rough ruffle that would usually earn a pleased giggle from the other. Despite technically being a teen now, the thirteen (fourteen in just a few months!) year old thankfully hadn’t yet grown out of his desire for physical affection. Fondness bubbles up in the older brother’s core, overwhelming him in its intensity, with it comes a bittersweet ache. 

“Love you.” It rushes tumbling out of his mouth near involuntarily, but it feels good to say aloud freely. There’s no one here to judge him for being a sap with his family, though he’s not sure he’d care if anyone tried to accuse him of being mushy anyway. The freckled teen sits up from his sprawl, and next to him Luffy makes no attempt to get up from his back. 

Looking a lot like a fish out of water, he stares up at Ace with big round eyes, jaw slack. He looked even younger than normal with his drenched clothes clinging to his frame. Ace finds himself laughing at the expense of his brother’s shocked expression, that fondness gripping his heart just a bit tighter. Shifting forward he pulls the skinny boy up into a sitting position. Waterlogged, Luffy lets himself get manhandled, head lolling, body limp as it usually is after a dip in the ocean. Then, because it felt like something he needed to do, he gathers his little brother into his arms and hugs him close. 

“Don’t act so surprised! You say it all the time, I can do it too,” He tucks the boy under his chin, and grins into that mop of black hair. From where his face is pressed against his brother’s chest Luffy whines. Probably embarrassed. Ace gives him a squeeze, and repeats his words teasingly. “I love you.” 

He pulls back, holding his brother by his scrawny shoulders to address him properly. Even after all these years training his younger brother’s frame is still thin and wiry, baby fat stubborn on his cheeks. Maybe his devil fruit kept him from bulking up like Ace had, he certainly didn’t mind- little brothers were supposed to be little after all. (Would Luffy change in their time apart? Would he stay little? Would he still be a foolishly optimistic ball of sunshine, that cared for others like love fueled his rays? Would he still look up to his older brother?) It would be a smidge over three years until they’d have the chance to meet again. 

The thought shakes him a bit, but they both had a promise to fulfill. 

Luffy looks utterly stricken, brown eyes blown wide. Like he’s about to cry. It’s okay. His older brother might cry too. He’s not afraid of these sorts of feelings anymore. And yet the conflicting weight of his departure settles in his chest like lead. On one hand he’ll finally be beginning his dream but… Three years is a long time. 

“I’m gonna miss you, Lu.” Ace blinks rapidly, feeling uncharacteristically choked up on the surge of bittersweet emotions. 

And he’s not sure what compels him to say his next words- something fiercely protective and endlessly grateful it tastes like ash smells like sulfur- but he does so without ounce of embarrassment. 

“Thank you for loving me.” 

Luffy immediately throws up. 

“Shit!” Ace stands, hovering nervously around the boy, who thankfully threw himself at the side of the boat instead of barfing on directly on Ace. “Sorry Lu, I didn’t realize you swallowed a bunch of sea water.” 

Luffy hangs his head over the edge miserably, form slumped like a deflated balloon. Ace tsks sympathetically, using his boot to shove the craft’s rudder back on course with Dawn Island. Sure having to turn around delayed him a bit, but he didn’t mind seeing as he got a little more time with his brother- even if he did throw them both into the ocean and then barf. C’est la vie and all, whatever that meant, he’d never got the opportunity to ask Sabo, but this felt like right situation for the phrase. 

“AAaccee.”

Strangled and wrong he almost doesn’t recognize it as the sound of his brother’s voice. A little startled by it, Ace turns his attention back to the boy. He hadn’t thought about it, but the younger had been oddly quiet up until now. Swallowing all that seawater likely upset Luffy’s stomach, Ace decided, that had to be the reason he sounded like that.

“You gotta be more careful, Lu. I’m not gonna be here anymore to get you out of trouble.” He keeps his own voice steady as he chides the other. Why did this feel so final?

Luffy shivers like the breeze chilled him to the bone, and warmth of the sun couldn’t reach him. When he speaks his tone is so subdued he might as well have been talking to himself. 

“I know I know.” 

And Ace doesn’t like the way he says that. His voice is somber and tired in a way that someone his age should definitely not be. It beads up a cold sense of concern in the back of his mind, drawing the heat from his skin with a shallow frown. 

Thankfully Luffy wasn’t one to hide things, so there was no need to be worried, he was likely just pouting. Right? Ace attempts to placate the boy, giving a wry grin that pulls his salt chapped lips a tad painfully. 

“You went way further than I’ve ever seen you go!” He tries - and it’s true. Realistically he shouldn’t have reached him at all. Luffy had yet to cover a fraction of the distance that he just did with his rocket move. “That’s really cool, you’re getting stronger, Lu!” 

A pause, he expects him to preen at the praise- to hop up and declare his intent to surpass him. 

Instead Luffy shakes his head fervently, not quite looking in his direction. “Not enough.” 

There’s something in those two words, so distraught yet resigned. It doesn’t make any sense. 

This wasn’t like his stupidly confident little brother at all. Confused he crowds closer to the younger teen, crouching low on his haunches in an attempt to meet his eye. Wet boots squelch unpleasantly with the movement. Luffy refuses to look at him. 

“Lu? Chin up, what kind of pirate king talks himself down like that? You’re gonna do just fine without me, I promise. Even if you’ll always be my crybaby little brother, you’re not a weakling, and I know you’re not gonna let anyone down, ok?”  

The freckled teen plants a firm hand on his brother’s clammy back, fully intent on continuing his impromptu pep talk when suddenly Luffy slams into him for the second time this day, knocking him over onto his rear. ‘When did he get so fast?’

“Luffy!” Ace cries out as he ends up with an arm full of squirming rubber, the other teen practically in his lap, clambering up him like he’s trying to crawl into his skin. Pawing at his older brother’s shirt Luffy heaves like he’s struggling to breathe. Frantically Ace tries to check over the kid for any injuries, but their close proximity, and Luffy’s writhing makes it difficult.

“What’s wrong!?” 

There’s no response from the blubbering mess, his face buried in Ace’s chest. 

The pawing becomes wild for a moment before Luffy twists his hands into Ace’s shirt using the hold as an anchor to pull himself impossibly closer. It pinches the fabric against the elder’s body painfully, and he feels more than one seam give with a pop. Reflexively he grabs his brother’s smaller hands in his own, and tries to pry them off his shirt, but to his surprise he can’t. 

Alarmed, he wiggles in a bid to free himself to no avail, Luffy holding fast like the mere thought of letting go would kill them both. His mind reels. Figuring he might be making things worse he gives up on loosening his brother’s grip. 

‘What would Sabo do?’ Sabo had been the softer more nurturing of the two older brothers. He’d always known how to calm the youngest down.

Against his own rising panic the teen brings up his arms to encircle the trembling boy in a tentative embrace. Luffy jerks like he’s been shocked, then burrows ever closer. Heart slowing from its initial thunder Ace breathes deeply to calm himself, noting how his chest had grown wet with tears. Adrenaline making his coordination a bit shaky he cards his fingers through his brother’s hair in what he hopes is a soothing manner. Luffy hiccups a sob. Ace shushes him like one would a young child, continuing to breathe deeply in an attempt to get his brother to copy him. It didn’t seem like he had the presence of mind to do so consciously, but his cries quieted slightly. He’d take what he could get. 

Stunned by the hysterical behavior Ace flounders internally, trying to figure out what could’ve set the tween off so badly. Nothing had been out of the ordinary today, up until launching himself at Ace’s boat Luffy had seemed elated for him to set out. He ventures forth carefully. 

“You know I have to go.” It’s apparently the wrong thing to say-or the right thing depending on how you looked at it- ‘cause Luffy restarts his crying with a new intensity. Ace is more than a little dumbstruck. He holds his brother a tad more securely, and rocks them both as he had seen mothers do for crying children. 

So that was it. 

Luffy didn’t want him to go. He feels a strange pleased flutter in his chest at the idea of someone wanting him around so badly, and quickly stomps it down. It wasn’t Luffy’s responsibly to deal with his self worth issues. Though admittedly he had fixated on the younger as a pillar of reassurance when they were children. (How could he not, when Luffy had seen him at his worst, been rejected by him, learned his lineage, took it all in stride, and still told him he wanted Ace to live. Was it so strange to get attached to someone like that?) Guiltily, he wonders if maybe he had been relying so much on the other he hadn’t realized Luffy had become co-dependent as well. 

His train of thought is cut short by an incoherent snarl of rage. He looks toward the source of the sound, and is met with a sentence wielded like a weapon. 

“I already failed you!”

Ace reels back as if struck. Heart thudding in his ribs. In that moment he sees Luffy had lifted his face to yell, and he finally gets a good look at this brother. A second later he wishes he hadn’t, because he knows the sight of his bubbly little brother looking so utterly hopeless would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. He looked haunted, absolutely defeated and drowning in self loathing that burned fiercely even as hot tears still flowing down his round cheeks. Ace had seen that expression on his own face when he was younger. It didn’t belong on Luffy’s face. If that look wasn’t freezing him in place he’d shake him. Make him see that they were nothing alike. Luffy might as well be the Sun in human form, his brightness and warmth were like an oasis that replenished everyone around him. He was cherished. There was no questioning whether or not Luffy should have been born. He didn’t deserve this. 

Instead Ace just gapes at him. 

After what feels like eternity the two brothers lock eyes with one another. He isn’t quite sure what Luffy sees when they meet each other’s gazes, but his reaction instantaneous. 

Luffy blanches, ripping his hands from Ace’s shirt violently, they go to clutch at his own head like he’s about to tear out his hair. Glazed eyes flit frantically from Ace’s face to his chest, searching, growing wider by the second. A whine builds in the back of his throat, his head drops to his chest and it becomes an anguished keen that rattles its listener to the core. And suddenly, as quick as it had began everything just seems to come to a horrific halt. Bonelessly Luffy slumps forward into his brother’s arms, his hands falling limply to his sides, completely silent.

Ace’s breath catches in his throat, his whole body freezes, stuck in a twisted parody of their earlier hug. 

“…L-Luffy…?”

No response. Not even a twitch. He might as well have been hugging a broken toy. It feels like his world his crumbling around him, shattering into glass that cuts into his fingers as he tries to hold it together. The edges of his vision darken and his eyes burn. In his arms his little brother is still in a way that he’d never seen him even when knocked out cold. It’s beyond frightening. 

He can’t bring himself to shake the boy, fearing what would happen if he did so while he felt so fragile. His mind’s eye supplies a picture of Luffy’s head rolling back with dead eyes still brimming with self hatred. 

Why? 

Why?

Why had Luffy of all people looked like that? 

It wasn’t fair!

‘Oh god.. What did I do?’

This was wrong. Luffy was supposed to be happy, so much so that a stranger would think him to be ignorant of the harsh reality they lived in. He’d been tortured for hours protecting the dream of two kids who told him they were going to kill him moments before- and yet he’d pulled through because he wanted them to be his friends. He chose to be happy despite the way he was treated, he was always more concerned about how Ace and Sabo felt than his own wellbeing. Ace hadn’t deserved that kindness. 

Luffy wasn’t just some crybaby kid, he was one of the most emotionally intelligent people he’d ever met. 

He hadn’t quelled in the face of Ace’s wrath and constant rejection. He’d seen through his fierce façade, and refused to give up on him even when everyone else did. Ace didn’t want to think about the person he would’ve become without Luffy- if he managed to survive all these years at all, he could have easily been done in picking fights or even by his own hand. 

Ace hadn’t been living a life that was worth anything until a brat brighter than the Sun showed up out of the blue and forced him to change. His brother’s resilience was one of the only things he could rely on in this world. 

And now his little brother’s skin is frightfully cold, and there’s not a trace of that goofy smile that should adorn his face. What happened?

Wasn’t Ace supposed to protect that smile? Wasn’t that his job as a bigger brother? He promised Sabo he would… 

Maybe he really was cursed to doom everyone close to him, how else could someone like Luffy be broken if not by a monster like him? 

First Sabo and now Luffy- 

Suddenly there’s hands on his shoulders wrenching him back to the present. Involuntarily his head is shifted upward, away from the sickeningly still form of his only brother left please what’s wrong- Clouds of bright orange obscure his world from view, the familiarity of the color pacifies the building crescendo of panic back into a rolling lull. Dadan wordlessly releases his chin, her face hardened despite the resigned grief in her eyes. Disoriented Ace blinks back at the woman who raised him, heart squeezing in his chest.

How much had she seen? 

Dimly he registers a tugging sensation in his arms, his body twitches defensively in response, curling closer. The movement calls his attention to his own poor state with a twinge of pain. He aches, his whole body is stiffened and locked around his brother like a corpse in rigor mortis. His mind lurches sluggishly. 

Westward the sun hangs low in the sky near kissing the waves of the horizon, painting the water with its fiery hues. It should be a lovely sight. Dread crawls across his skin leaving a sting in its wake on his sunburnt pallor.

How long had they been crouched here? He hadn’t even realized their craft had reached the shore, and it was clear they had been drifting there listlessly for awhile now.

Brow furrowed, Dadan sweeps the salty fringe that clings to his face away carefully, and presses the back of her cool hand against his forehead with a gentleness unbecoming of the gruff woman. It’s soft in a way that’s usually reserved for the nights where Luffy retreats from their treehouse, grieving the loss of their kindhearted brother, the normally surly bandits always welcomed the boy into their fold when he sought them out like that. 

It was a stark contrast to how Ace had harshly rebuked his brother for crying, bitterly rejecting the pity -sympathy- from those around them. Another mistake on his part he came to realize, on nights where Luffy choked down sobs and regret churned his stomach. His brother did his best to hide his grief from him even though of all the people in the world he should be the one he shared it with. It was his own fault. 

Desperately he wished he could call out to him ‘Come to me. I miss him too. It’s ok, you can cry.’ They could deal with it together. Shamefully he’d always clam up on those nights, feigning sleep like a coward as his sniffling brother slipped out into the dark. Hands clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms through his thin blanket, he’d tell himself it was better this way, Luffy didn’t want him to see his tears, and he was too jaded to comfort the boy anyway. Never once did he muster the courage to speak up, and now it was coming back to truly bite him in the ass. 

Because what else could this be if not a result of his negligence? And now it came to this, Luffy his cheerful little brother breaking down over his buried fears and sorrows. He was suppose to look after him, not encourage him to bottle up his grief until he exploded. Luffy had outright told him he rather be in pain than be alone- he should have known this would happen! Of course Luffy wouldn’t confide in him if he thought Ace would abandon him for having feelings he called weak. He was a terrible big brother.

‘What would Sabo think of me now, knowing I failed to protect our little brother?’ It would’ve been better if Sabo was here instead, Sabo would never have let this happen. 

“Let go, Ace.” And he’s not sure if she’s really just talking about the death grip he’s frozen in, but he nods numbly anyway and reluctantly loosens his grasp on his little brother, feeling his joints creak in protest. She takes the boy from him, easily settling the small body into her arms. 

If he didn’t know the kid he’d say he looked peaceful, serenely sleeping even with the tear stains marring his face. But because it’s Luffy the serenity looks wrong, like someone had come along and posed him like a doll. 

Dadan seems to echo his thoughts, as she fusses over him with a hankie cleaning off his salt tracked cheeks. She sighs. “What am I suppose to do with you boys?”

Having never been on the receiving end of Dadan’s rare sympathy Ace doesn’t know if that warrants a response. If it does she doesn’t care. Putting away her hankie she grabs Ace by the forearm, and hauls him to his feet with a grunt. 

Thankfully she doesn’t comment on how his legs buckle beneath him, she just waits next to him, letting him lean on her as the feeling slowly creeps back into his limbs. 

Drained beyond measure he follows her quietly onto the the shore, barely noticing when Mogra anchors his boat for him. The few villagers still milling about watch him curiously, some call out him with questions but he can’t quiet hear them. 

Partys Bar’s doors swing open though he’s not sure when they got there, a hand on his back ushers him in and then all but pushes him into a booth. He allows it, if only because Luffy is immediately laid out next to him. A green haired woman slides into the seat as well, effectively trapping Ace in when she carefully draws Luffy’s head into her lap. Dadan exchanges a look with Makino, neither ask him what happened. He can’t help but think they’re trying to spare his feelings. The bandit leaves silently, posting herself outside the bar doors like a guard. 

Luffy for his part remains eerily unmoving. Was he even breathing? Something must cross his face then, because Makino grabs his hand and gently presses the pads of his fingers to one of Luffy’s clammy little wrists. There he feels the quick flutter of his brother’s pulse, worryingly fast but there. Alive. His body relaxes minutely.

Helplessly he gives that wrist a little squeeze, as if to reassure the unconscious boy. Still Luffy appears lifeless. 

He feels his body tense and his hands clench uselessly into fists, like he could fight whatever caused this. 

“Do you think I should stay?” The words come out barely a whisper, and he hates how pathetic he sounds 

Makino stares back at him with a soft sort of maternal concern that she shouldn’t have for someone like him, and he finds that he can’t match her gaze, instead his eyes remain locked the boy on her lap. She stays silent for a moment, then when it becomes clear he won’t make eye contact she turns her attention down to Luffy as well, carding her fingers through his sea salt encrusted locks of hair. 

“You know he wouldn’t forgive himself if he thought you didn’t set out because of him.” She tells him. 

Ace lets out a shuddering breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and tries to gather up the fraying strings of his resolve. 

Chapter Text

She had seen it. 

After a celebratory breakfast Makino had accompanied an excited Luffy, and the group of bandits who raised him to send off Ace. Most villagers didn’t wish to mingle with the criminals, and remained on the docks to bid their goodbyes. On the cliff, waving farewell to his brother, Luffy had seemed so happy. 

And then he stumbles forward like a man shot. 

His tiny body stiffens up for a moment, going completely ridged before he doubles over nearly in half.

It starts as a light giggle bubbling up from his core, and continues far longer than it should. She laughs too at first. 

It’s contagious. 

He gets louder, drawing stares, and joining chuckles. The boy clutches himself in a rattling hug, eyes wide and rapidly filling with tears. Small little hiccups and strained breaths between, and then he gets louder still, breaking out into full blown howls of laughter. His audience feels their hair stand on end, and the air grows heavy like the press of a cold soaked blanket, they keep laughing along, they can’t stop. It’s so loud. Beating in her ears. 

She feels sick to the stomach. Luffy’s mouth is stuck in a grin, even as the tears in his reddened eyes roll down his cheeks.

It's a strange horrible mix of laughter and cries. 

And he’s choking on it, heaving around the laughter in his throat like it’s strangling him. Frantically he claws at his own neck as if to prevent anymore sound from ripping out like a man possessed. Luffy goes white as a sheet, in all the hysteria it almost looks like the color is bleeding from more of him than just his skin. It’s unnatural. 

He’s unrecognizable.

Frightened, she reaches out to her boy, but the world tilts. The chorus of laughter ceases, and all she can hear is one high pitch sob. Her heart breaks. 

She wakes hours later in the grass among a pile of out cold bandits, Dadan waiting at her side. The older woman says nothing, she gets up and leads her to the shore, to her boys.

Heedless of night’s dismay, and the sea’s ire something gone awry parts the sand then cuts through the water. The moon casts an eerie glow over the defier with its unsettled gaze. He's not supposed to be here. Disturbed by its early presence the wind howls against the puny craft, it sways dangerously but it’s captain is determined. Fearfully the coast it leaves behind reaches vainly for the child much too young to be escaping her shores. He doesn’t look back. And beneath the brewing sea a flash of scales gleams eagerly.

Sunlight streams in through the worn panels of a pair of hastily closed shutters. It stirs to life the sole occupant of a small but quaint living space. Her awakening is not a pleasant one. Body heavy with a fitful sleep Makino slowly props herself up from the armchair she had stayed in for the night. Stalling perhaps, she worries with the hem of the apron she had forgone taking off before bed, her eyes slip across the room searching for any sign of her guest’s presence. Yet all she finds is the carefully cracked bedroom door, that yields naught but deafening silence into the rest of the building. 

It only served to make her more anxious. Luffy was nothing if not loud at all hours, even during slumber the boy would mumble and shift constantly. Strange how she hadn’t heard a peep from him all night. He’d been all too quiet, and all too still when she had tucked him into her bed last night. 

She’d let him take the bed plenty of times before when he was younger. Though he’d been so tiny that sharing wasn’t an issue. (He’s still too tiny, was he being fed enough?) Oftentimes the boy would fall asleep at the bar after a big meal, or stick around long after the bar was closed when he was lonely. During the times Captain Shanks was visiting Luffy practically lived in the bar. Whatever the reason he ended up sleeping over, Makino never minded tucking the child in with a bedtime story, and the ever present offer of breakfast in the morning. She quite enjoyed having Luffy around as company, the sweet boy made the menial life in the village all the more brighter. 

He hadn’t come around nearly as often once Garp took him away kicking, and screaming up the mountain. His hero Shanks had been the catalyst that both sparked that dream into Luffy as well as drove Garp to hide his grandson away. It wasn’t truly the red-haired pirate’s fault. That straw hat and rubber body marked the end of an era as soon as Garp found out. She recalled his stunned face when he saw that hat on his precious grandson’s head. For whatever reason the old marine seemed more shocked by the hat than the fact that Luffy had eaten a devil fruit. It didn’t take long for him to declare his grandson was tainted by pirates, and then march him up the mountain. 

For months she dreaded what could happen to her boy, far away from the safety of their village. 

Little did she know he’d find all the protection he’d ever need in the form of two big brothers, and a slew of mountain bandits. Those two boys had the same wild air about them as Luffy did, and she knew they belonged together. (They hadn’t deserved to be broken up so young.)

The once abrasive Ace became quite attached to his younger brother over the years. Not unsurprising considering the effect Luffy had on people.

They practically did everything together. It was awfully funny to see them in action, just two kids taking out beasts and ruffians alike. Luffy could easily be mistaken for someone much younger, the slight boy still hadn’t hit his growth spurt unlike his older brother who was now even taller than her. He was comically small in comparison. 

Something in her chest tightens.

Her mind’s eye flashes the sight of Ace’s haunted face staring desperately at his younger brother who looked so tiny and frail. It was as if they were both made of glass on the verge of breaking. Last night had not been kind to the brothers. It took a lot of coaxing and reassurance to convince Ace he could go. Even so, he didn’t want to leave until his little brother opened his eyes.

He never did. 

Luffy didn’t wake up, even when they moved him upstairs. Ace hovered over the bed for nearly an hour, before Makino promised to write to him with updates on how Luffy was fairing. Then he finally left, much later into the night, still completely haggard, dragging his feet as he went. She regrets not telling him to sleep, to just go in the morning instead, but that didn’t seem to be an option to him. 

Had she dwelled on what she had seen too much she thinks she might have told him to stay. As shameful as it was to consider, what happened to Luffy before he went after Ace had shaken her. For a split second whoever was on that cliff with her wasn’t Luffy. It couldn’t have been. 

That laughter, that presence, that horrible anguish- it didn’t belong to the little boy who brought her seashells, and begged for snacks with innocent smiles. 

She shudders to even think about it. Maybe if she had just been there for him more-

It wasn’t the first time she wondered about how life would’ve been if Garp had left the boys with her instead. She knew it wasn’t her place to linger on such subjects, even when the boy she thought of as her own broke down right before her eyes. 

Makino wasn’t his guardian anymore, and while she couldn’t say she approved of the way the Dadan raised the boy, there was no doubt in her mind that the bandit truly did care for the brothers.

She casts one more glance toward the bedroom door, the desire to peer in quite strong, though because she didn’t want to disturb Luffy’s rest she opts to head downstairs to the bar. 

Dadan and a few other of her bandits are scattered about the room, snoring in booths and slumped over tables. 

Makino pads back into the pantry, Luffy would be hungry when he woke up. That wouldn't do. She needed to make him something big. If it was good enough and he ate a lot he'd feel better. This is something she could do for him. Quietly as she can she begins preparing breakfast, thoughts scattered.

Awhile later Makino's careful silence is broken by a chair being scooted back, and the younger woman looks up to see Dadan seated at the bar, her head propped up by her hand. She looks awfully tired. Makino diligently preps another plate, and offers it with a sympathetic smile. 

“That old coot Garp is gonna have a fit when he finds out Ace ran off to be a pirate.” Dadan starts, the resigned slump of her shoulders appearing to age her further. 

Garp had made it abundantly clear he planned on returning for the boys once they reached the age of enlistment. That was why they had all decided to leave right when they turned 17. Clever, though she doubted he’d give up that easily. 

Set down before Dadan a hearty omelette beckons invitingly, she pushes her fork in but her mind is elsewhere. Next to her is a plate stacked generously high with warm pancakes and bacon, it waits at an empty stool. A fresh glass of orange juice finishes up the meal, untouched as the rest of the food.

Makino busies herself wiping down the counters so as to not look at it. The older woman slows in her eating, glancing toward the stairs leading up to Makino’s living quarters. 

“Is he…?” Dadan trails off awkwardly when the other woman visibly deflates with a sigh. 

“Luffy has never slept in when breakfast was ready before.” Makino answers softly. 

The orange haired woman nods absently, taking a long swig of her drink, she knew that all too well after years of living with the boy.

Suddenly Makino turns on Dadan with pleading eyes, hands clasped together. “Do you know what could’ve set him off like that? Did Ace tell you anything before he left? Why would Luffy faint like that?”

She leans further and further over the counter with each question. 

Startled, Dadan chokes and then cringes under that worried stare, unable to meet the barmaid’s gaze she returns a frustrated shrug. “I dunno- puberty?” 

Makino’s face scrunches up in disbelief, and Dadan feigns drinking from her now empty cup. She doesn’t have a proper answer for her, though Makino doesn’t want to accept it, she objects immediately. “But you’re his guardian…surely you’ve noticed something before now that could have caused this?”

Dadan sighs, giving up. “I don’t know, kids are complicated- it could be a lot of things.” 

She doesn’t elaborate any further, and while dismayed Makino gets the hint to not pry anymore, though she’s clearly unhappy about it. She draws in on herself, eyes to the floor. 

“I’ll go fetch Luffy before his food gets cold.”  

The trek up the stairs feels much longer than normal, the steps usual squeaking too eerie. When she reaches her living quarters the door to her bedroom is still barely cracked as she left it. She approaches it, and carefully nudges it open so as to not scare the sleeping child. 

“Luffy? Breakfast is ready.” 

She goes to enter the room, and then stops abruptly.

Makino stands in the doorway, blinking down at the blankets that spilt across the floor, and the barren bed that’s cold as the ice creeping into her veins. The room is empty.

“L-luffy?”

In response the bedroom window creaks open just a little further. 

Her breath catches in her throat, and before she can process it she’s barreling back down the stairs. 

Dadan chokes again on her remaining breakfast when Makino races up to her with a cry. 

“Luffy is missing!”

The older woman pounds on her chest to dislodge the food, and then asks the other to repeat herself. She does, and Dadan gets up from the bar sweating. 

Distress has her pacing the bar shakily lighting a cigarette. 

“You didn’t hear him get up last night?”

Distraught, Makino shakes her head. 

Everyone who knew the rubber boy knew he was incapable of being sneaky, there was no way he could’ve left without making a ruckus. Unless… 

Frustrated Dadan pinches the bridge of her nose, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth. Makino’s thin brows draw together fretfully, one hand coming up to cover her mouth to stifle a cry. 

Both women come to a conclusion at the same time, and announce it in unison.

“Ace must’ve came back for that runt!” “Luffy’s been kidnapped!”

Both women pause their panicking to give each other a distasteful scoff. 

“Who’d wanna steal Luffy? He’d drive anyone dumb enough to do that nuts!” Dadan argues. 

“Luffy is a lovely child, and a pleasure to spend time with!” Makino admonishes while scowling, offended on the boy’s behalf. 

“Fine, yeah, he’s sweet- whatever! But he’s not worth stealing when he eats ten times his body weight, and is wilder than a rabid dog.” Being a bandit leader she knew a thing or two about stealing after all. As much as Dadan loved the boy, she knew a criminal wouldn’t find any value in him beyond his devil fruit. Human traffickers didn’t care about a kid’s bubbly personality, they’d beat it out of him. However, she’d seen Luffy grow up, he wasn’t weak anymore. The tiny boy defeats huge beasts just for a snack, and dispatches hostile adults like they were just a nuisance. She firmly believed there wasn’t a single criminal in the East Blue who could take him without causing a huge scene. Except one criminal-to-be… “I’m tellin’ you Ace is probably one of the only people who can handle him, plus he definitely wasn’t too keen on leaving him after that weird meltdown.”

The younger woman flinches and for a moment Dadan thinks she’s gotten through to her. Then Makino snatches up a half written letter on the bar-top, hugging it to her chest with a gasp.

 “Oh no- Ace was already so worried about Luffy, how are we supposed to tell him about this? It’ll give him a heart attack!”

Dadan gawks at her.

“Didn’t you hear me? Ace was probably the one who took him!” The mountain bandit grasps the shorter woman by the shoulders, and gives her a desperate shake. 

The other bandits begin to wake blearily due to the commotion. Makino opens her mouth to protest, but Dadan barrels on frantically. 

“What about Ace?? What about us, huh?? Garp is gonna have our heads if he finds out both his grandsons are missing!” 

She releases the younger woman who stumbles back into a bar stool, mouth agape. 

“Ack! We gotta search the village, and the forest -and the water! Oh god what if the little idiot drowned??” Dadan tears at her orange hair. Dogra appears from seemingly nowhere to quickly light another cigarette for her. Dadan puffs on her collection of smokes for a single second, and then she whirls on the rest of the bandits in the bar. 

“What are you waiting for?? Go- get out! Go look for him!” 

Frazzled, she kicks at a few unlucky bandits who slept on the floor when they don’t get up fast enough. They’re sent scrambling out the bar’s swing doors to escape their leader’s wrath. 

Silence reigns freely for a long moment. It’s a tense hush that feels like it’s pushing nails under her skin. 

“Don’t take it out on them just because you’re worried about Luffy.” Makino speaks quietly, shoulders tight and dainty lips set in a grim line. She brushes past the larger woman without making eye contact, heading toward the still swinging door. 

Dadan sputters. 

“I’m going to go find Mayor Woodslap to get a search party together- you should stay here in case Luffy comes back.” Is all the bar owner states before she exits. 

Stunned, Dadan stares after the other woman until the doors cease their sway. Stuck in the emptiness of the room, with only her swimming thoughts to accompany her she finds herself slumping into a seat. Her face drops into her hands. She thinks of her two boys huddled frozen in that small dingy, and she heaves a sigh, extinguishing a cigarette by roughly scrubbing it into a nub on the table. 

Without warning the doors break open once more, causing the bandit to straighten in her seat. To her surprise the person who entered is Makino. She’s pale as a sheet. The bar owner doesn’t even acknowledge the new cigarette burn in her table. Her wet green eyes flit to Dadan and she opens her mouth, but whatever she’s about to say is drowned out by the bar doors slamming open so hard one cracks against the wall, and falls off it’s hinges. 

And standing in the threshold is Dadan’s worst fear, gnawing on a rice cracker, and brandishing a marine uniform in hand like a trophy. 

Garp laughs. 

“Where’s my ungrateful grandsons hiding? This is no way to welcome their loving grandfather!” He trudges into the bar like he owns the place, briefly swooping down to try to prop the door back on its hinges. It falls back down with a thunk, and he not so discretely pushes it behind a table to hide the damage he caused. “I’ve got a birthday present for Ace.”

 He cackles, gesturing to the marine uniform. 

When they don’t laugh he finally notices their mood, and his wrinkled face pulls into a grumpy frown. 

“What’s with your faces? You look stressed. Want a rice cracker? You can only have one though.” 

He begrudgingly holds one cracker out to the women. Makino politely declines, smiling stiffly. On the other hand, Dadan remains frozen while Garp waves a rice cracker in her horrified face. He shrugs and pops it in his mouth, munching loudly. 

“Really though…where are those boys?” Garp drawls petulantly. Scanning the room one sliver brow quirks up when he takes in it’s disarray, and he hums, dark eyes settling back on the women. 

Makino fidgets under his gaze, clasping her hands in front of her she gives him an apologetic dip of her head. “Ah, neither of the boys are..here..right now..” 

Garp stares blankly. Both women cringe. 

“Where are they then?”

Dadan attempts to stutter an excuse that due to her nerves unfortunately comes out incomprehensible. Huffing the marine looks to Makino for an explanation. The green haired woman can’t hold eye contact, she wrings her hands and once again bows her head guiltily. 

“Ace has already departed the island to follow his dream.” She admits, despite the shocked squawk of protest from Dadan.

Garp’s stance changes entirely, no longer just a bumbling grandfather, his anger is palatable.

“He what.”

It’s more than enough. Fearing the man’s ire Dadan blurts out the first thing that comes to mind to placate him. “We’ll g-get Luffy back soon!”

The temperature of the room drops several degrees in an instant. Garp crushes the bag of precious rice crackers in one palm, his narrowed eyes burn into her like hot iron. The blood drains from Dadan’s face as she realizes her mistake. 

“What do you mean by ‘get’ him back?”

Of all the people he could’ve encountered while running from his past this was just his luck. He just had to get stuck on a deserted island with a mopey pirate who wouldn’t stop talking about his kid brother. On top of that he was starving, he’d have to get rid of the other guy to stea- 

The freckled teen he was just planning to kill blinks blearily at him, one hand outstretched offering the strange orange fruit he just took a bite out of. 

“You hungry?”

And Deuce has about five seconds to feel guilty about his plan to dispose of him, before that guy, with cheeks still full and posture lax, spontaneously combusts.

Gulls were the scavengers of the sea, to many they were simply a nuisance, however to those who traveled the blues they were a valuable escort to assess the depths. For where gulls gathered in the air there was most certainly something below. 

Today was no different.

Though they could’ve just followed the stench instead of the birds this time. Whale carcasses had the sick tendency to bloat up during their decomposition, and even explode. From the looks of it, this one already had. But pirates didn’t care about dead whales. 

No, what they were here for was a lot more valuable than rotting flesh. 

Slaves. 

With that crazy marine wrecking any pirate ship he came across there were a surplus of   stragglers who escaped arrest only to end up stranded at sea. Gulls would swarm above them as they died off one by one, to pick apart their corpses. Weakened by starvation, and forced to drink sea water they were easy targets. It was a very simple operation to ‘save’ someone stranded at sea, and then make them work the rest of their life to pay off that debt. The goal was always to expand the crew, they’d had the largest fleet in the East Blue and soon the Grand Line, it didn’t matter if recruits were willing or not.

He itched to uncover their latest haul. 

Before him was a puny lifeboat tethered onto one of the large white ribs of the rotting whale. Obviously some foolish shipwreck survivors were living off the bloated flesh of a whale carcass, poisoning themselves just to not feel the pain of starvation. It would be funnier if they were eating each other instead. He’d seen that a few times. Those survivors never lasted long once they picked them up, usually by taking their own lives or going mad. 

Their ship approaches slowly, to give the survivors more of a chance to notice them. His favorite part was when the idiots would scramble to stand up in their boats, elated at the prospect of rescue. They’d cry with joy, hollering and waving the ship over, only for their eyes to meet that black flag and then they’d always freeze, hope draining into horror. It was fantastic.

Sadly there wasn’t such a fun reception now, as they loomed over the lifeboat they realized this one was a dud as far as new recruits went. No possessions to rob either, just a single ratty straw hat.

Curled up at the bottom of the dingy there’s a small form shivering and feverish. A sickly brat twitching in a dream.

Whatever nightmare it was having now wouldn’t even compare to what they had in store for it. 

“Ah you chose the wrong ship to get picked up by.” He croons to the sleeping runt. A crewmate snickers, eyeing the child excitedly. 

They drop the ship's ladder made of rope, it lands in the dingy with a dull thud, and the kid curls in on itself even tighter, like that would protect it. That brings out a laugh from the pirate who climbs down into the little craft to retrieve it. 

He nudges the little body with his boot none too gently, and the kid practically convulses, groaning. 

“Ha! You hungry or something brat? Rotting whale not good enough for you?” Sneers the pirate who leans forward, and grabs the kid by a skinny shoulder harshly. 

The dirty child is limp in his grasp, practically doubled over. It feebly tries to pull away, one arm slung around its stomach. 

“Careful it might barf on you!” A gleeful crew mate warns from the rail.

The pirate wrinkles his nose. Disgusted he twists his hand into the brat’s dark hair and wrenches its head backward. “If you barf on me I’ll make you eat it.” 

He likes the way the kid yelps at the harsh treatment. His eyes linger on the child’s features for a long moment- a boy maybe- reveling in how his youthful face pinches in pain, and his big eyes were screwed tightly shut. It’s exciting. The man smirks. He releases the runt’s hair, and pets his head in a cruel mockery of tenderness. 

“Ah, but if you’re a good boy we might let you eat regular food every once in awhile.”

There’s collective cackling from above. He peers up at his crewmates gathered at the railing, bolstered by their approving looks. He licks his chapped lips, a grin pulls at his face. The boy’s head is warm under his hand. Something dark festers in the back of his mind, and he welcomes it, he’s sure his crewmates are thinking it too.

Hungry in a way far different than the starving child, the pirate fixes his free hand onto the rope ladder, ready to pull him and his human cargo onto the ship- he’s interrupted by a loud guttural growl. It sounds so much like a beast that his heart jumps into his throat, and the hair stands up on the back of his neck. He checks around frantically, as does his alarmed crewmates. 

He finds nothing but his new toy looking up at him from under black bangs, furious and tear stained. ‘Was that…his stomach?’

Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, but the boy’s eyes shined red, and his skull under the man’s hand felt superheated. 

A breeze skims by his face. It’s oddly warm like steam from a boiling pot. 

“Wh-“

The pirate nearly loses his footing as the rope ladder is abruptly wrenched up from his grip, the coarse fibers rip into his palm as a kind farewell. He tumbles forward into the dingy, the boy escapes his grasp with a sharp hiss. He snarls and makes to grab him again, however screaming sounds out behind him. His head snaps back to look over his shoulder, and he screams as well. 

At first it isn’t clear what’s happening, it appears as if a giant wooden wall has suddenly risen from the depths. It looms up out of the water, with a great creak and shudder, revealing a huge keel and barnacle encrusted planks. It’s their ship. 

As if rammed up from below the ship’s hull is reeling into the air sideways, her crew clinging onto her fixtures in fear as she goes nearly goes belly up. She crashes back down into the water, dipping and keeling as if fighting a great storm. The crew cry out as the previously calm waters swell further into turmoil.

Suddenly her single mast gives way, it slams down like a death sentence putting an end to the ship’s desperate righting, the weight of it presses one side of her deck deep into the sea. And she surrenders to the sea, finally capsizing. 

“D-don’t you know whose scout ship that was!?” That feels like the least of his worries right now, but it’s the first thing that he blurts out. He’s likely dead either way, by this kid or his own captain. 

The boy speaks. 

“I was aiming for your face…”

He sounds disappointed, a little confused even, as if he just lost a rigged carnival game instead of punching a pirate ship so hard it rolled over. 

The crashing waves as a result of the ship’s battle threaten to capsize the dingy as well. The pirate clings on for dear life, brain rattling in his skull. Somehow the kid appears unfazed, or maybe he’s in shock cause he’s letting himself get jostled all over. That little freak is just staring at his own hand. 

Their tether drags them closer to the dead whale. It’s a nauseating combination of being thrown about while forced to breathe the rotting stench, the man vomits and then slips in it. He struggles to regain his balance, finding the whale’s flesh filling his vision. 

The corpse heaves in the turbulence, rolling belly up in the water, exposing a mile long expanse of bloodied scales, and a lipless slack maw brimming with rows of teeth. Dark waves reach greedily at the newly revealed body that’s far too large, far too contorted. It’s not a whale. And something even worse than it snapped its neck clean in half. 

Its eyeless sockets stare mockingly at him, jeering as the color drains from his face.

Whales don’t have fangs and children don’t kill Sea Kings. 

It’s not even a choice anymore, his mind blanks in pure panic, he scrambles to jump off the craft, to get as far away from that thing in the dingy as possible. He’d rather face his captain than a devil in child’s skin. 

After all what else could devour a monster if not a demon? 

Chapter Text

“You actually pay the news coos?”

The freckled pirate captain squints up from behind the newspapers held close to his now comically deadpan face.  

“…Are you implying I’d rob a bird?”

Ace riffles through the papers, discarding each one he flipped through onto the deck. A messy pile begins to form. 

“No it’s just-“ Deuce shrugs a single shoulder “-I figured with all that bluster about you being a pirate you’d be a bit more...uncouth.” 

“Uncouth.” Ace echoes, decidedly unimpressed. He drops another useless article onto the floor. This guy talked like a noble. “You’re a pirate now too, y’a know.” 

His first mate snorts, a wry smile forming. He holds up his gloved palms in the universal ‘you got me’ gesture, and then leans back on their vessel’s railing. 

The masked man changes the subject, tone taking on a light teasing lit. “Why do you always look so disappointed when the coos come by? Is your bounty not going up as high as you wanted?” 

Ace clicks his tongue, and rolls his dark eyes. He already had one of the highest bounties in the East Blue thank you very much. 

When he finishes up going through the papers he groans in frustration, and sifts through the papers at his feet. 

Deuce watches, slightly amused until his captain decides to set the offending papers on fire. With a startled yelp he jumps forward, and stomps them out. 

“Be careful! You’re gonna set the ship on fire like that!” He hisses, still unused to the devil fruit eater’s power. 

The smoldering pile of newspapers crumbles into a mixture of ash, and printed propaganda. Wafting in the air the smell of burnt paper is strangely unpleasant. Its arsonist cringes, brushing the surviving fragments further away. They scatter across the deck that’s thankfully only slightly singed.

Ace looks appropriately sheepish, though his gaze wavers on the embers.

He clears his throat, and dips his head apologetically. “Sorry, I was supposed to get a letter by now, the wait has uh, gotten to me a bit I think.” 

That doesn’t really excuse nearly setting the boat on fire, but come on- he was a little high strung right now. Deuce shoots him a sour look anyway. Ace can practically hear him saying ‘Yeah you think?’, but he doesn’t say it aloud. Instead he just lets out a long suffering sigh that’s somehow worse. 

“News coos don’t even deliver mail.” His friend tells him, hands on his hips. Haughty in the way that someone who thought they knew more than you always was. “Not without setting up an account with one of the different subdivisions- I doubt they do it for pirates anyway. You’d have to find an independent carrier.” 

Ace reddens. “How was I supposed to know that?!”

Parting the sea and wreckage alike with ease, the purple snake-headed bow of the Dreadnaught Sabre towers over the scene before her. A wide expanse of the fleshless bones of a sea king scrapes against her hull. 

“This is where the distress call originated.”

A towering man gilded in golden armor known as Don Krieg grunts in acknowledgment, his hand tight on the galleon’s railing. “Idiots.”

The idea of this being vengeance for those failed underlings was silly. (Don Krieg had dealt with the rejects who’d come crying to him about a ‘monster’ personally.) This was about sending a message. Once they found out who sunk their scout, they’d destroy whoever dared make his fleet look like fools. 

Beside Krieg, his combat commander Gin shifts on his feet and inspects the remains of their scout ship impassively. 

There’s a small corpse strewn out on the floating remains of the scout’s mast. It’s a child, likely a causality of the fool who attacked their ship. He’d been expecting more, given the crew’s tale of the gruesome attack. The sea king’s floating bones picked clean suggested the culprit had simply been another sea king, yet the crew had been adamant that it was a person that attacked them. 

There was barely anything left of the ship, it had obviously sunk after taking heavy damage- no way that was from a single person. Gin goes to tell his captain that much, but there’s a noise from behind them.

Instinctively he turns to face the source, tensing. 

“Oh, was that yours? Sorry.”

Inexplicably the corpse from the other ship is casually on the deck, hoisting itself up and nearly into a barrel of apples. It did not seem very sorry. 

“Who the hell are you?!” The man known as the ruler of the East Blue sputters. His men reel backward, finally noticing the new addition to the ship. 

Humming, the intruder pops an apple into his mouth, core and all. 

“I can’t wreck this one.” The living corpse slides down the side of the barrel bonelessly, one arm contorted still buried in the top of the container. It looked like it was broken. 

“Do you know who I am?! Answer me!”

The crew draws their weapons. Jeering, angry. Gin doesn’t. He can’t.

“I thought it was just ‘cause I was hungry, but I still feel so weak.”

The stowaway’s mop of black hair snaps backward as he cranes his head back to stare at the unwavering sky. Contemplating. 

“Maybe the meat was bad?” Sluggish eyes slide to the bones in the water, as if ready to return to the grave. From his limp hand a bright red apple rolls across the deck, coming to rest at Don Krieg’s foot. Strangely compelled to pick it up, without thinking Gin dips forward just to see Krieg crush it under his boot. The apple’s wet flesh smears into the deck. His stomach churns. For whatever reason his eyes jump to the intruder, and he’s looking directly back at him. “No, that’s silly, food can’t be bad.” 

Gin swallows uselessly, throat suddenly dry. He can’t help but feel like he’s being spoken to, yet he’s not understanding the meaning of the words. 

No one else seems to be caught by the ghost’s stare. Don Krieg is already growling out orders to dispatch the little thief. Fuming with anger. The Dreadnaught’s railing splits under his powerful hands. His men scramble to obey. 

There’s a sharp shout, and someone fires several rounds from their gun. The first misses its target, striking the barrel instead. The barrel breaks, pumping out blood red, spilling fruit onto the floor. The other appears to go straight through the intruder- and he doesn’t react to being shot at all. 

Only a second later a crewmate screams out and drops to the deck, bleeding from a bullet hole. Red, like the apples. All over the deck. 

Krieg demands he attack. Someone fires again with the same result. Panic ensues. The spirit is still staring. 

Bile rises in his throat. 

‘Fuck that’s so wasteful.’

His head aches, Don is blustering, screaming, he can’t hear what he’s saying. There’s food on the floor. Staring at him. 

“Gin.” 

The ghost lounges against the splintered barrel like a throne. Eyes reflecting the red of the apples lock onto his own. It spoke his name like a command.

Gin takes a step forward, he’s not sure who he’s obeying. 

Sounds of a one-sided battle barely reach his ears. It’s like his head is full of cotton, pushing his thoughts from his skull, and tunneling his vision. Narrower and narrower. 

The spirit is drawing itself up against the backdrop of havoc, sight solely for Gin, staring him down. 

He’s stopped in his tracks. There’s a weight in his gut. 

Ignorant of the power before him, Kreig becomes enraged, spitting, screaming, drawing his spear. His crew is too afraid to get close to the zombie who riddles men with bullet holes without lifting a finger. So he’s charging forth with a weapon powerful enough to kill all his underlings on deck. 

Heedless of his captain’s fury, Gin is trapped under the gaze of the spirit with a straw hat. 

There’s not a single doubt in his mind that he’s experiencing some kind of divine judgment. Cigarette smoke fills his nose, it’s oddly comforting. No one here is smoking. His stomach growls. 

A cold burn races down his spine, he feels a wash of shame- unfamiliar to the man known as demon. 

“You’re still with this guy?” 

He doesn’t even see the clash, just the aftermath as the man known as the ruler of the East Blue is sent flying backward from the spirit, and into the depths of the sea. The armor he coveted so dearly pulling him under the waves. Deeper and deeper. 

And this time Gin doesn’t go after him. 

In the wake of her sudden change of crew the massive Dreadnaught Sabre formerly owned by Don Krieg drifts listlessly in the waters of the East Blue. 

The child on her deck didn’t know a thing about sailing a ship of her size.

He struggled to hoist her huge sprawling sails. Oftentimes his strange rubbery limbs would become entangled in the rigging, and he’d remain strung up for hours in the heat of the sun. He’d fall down after a while, sweaty and burnt, though fairly unfazed.  

He seemed to forget her helm entirely at times, as if someone would be navigating for him. When he did find her helm he’d spin it idly, eyes glazed. Not once did he look at the bittacle where her compass was stored, nor did he ever even touch a map. 

While he scrambled up to her crow’s nest often, his watchman skills were abysmal, he appeared far more interested in staring into the distance than scanning the horizon. And stare he did, for hours at a time. 

His repairs were crude at best. Slats were piled over each other, and nailed down over damage with far too many nails. More than once he’d splinter the wood, and have to start over. 

He didn’t use the kitchen correctly. The stove had caught on fire about five times before he gave up on cooking. Her rations were raided during the night when he should’ve been on watch. He was messy when he ate, leaving trails of crumbs wherever he went. 

The boy never seemed to stop moving. When the sea and the weather fared too well for too long he’d pace around endlessly, like he expected to find someone else onboard to alleviate his boredom. 

And he was loud. 

(Sometimes he laughed- howling louder than the wind- at the top of his lungs till he was gagging, and writhing on the floor of her deck.) 

The boy was constantly speaking. To the air. To the sky. To the water. To her. 

You’re not a goat or a lion, but snakes are cool too- he tells her, and she’s not sure what to make of that, because she’s never been told anything before. Tools were meant to be used, not spoken to.

He does that a lot. The boy tells her about adventures on seas she had yet to see, far off islands, and a crew that cried for a little ship that could no longer carry them. His eyes shine as he twists seagull feathers into the fibers of a broken rope, and drapes it across her figurehead like a crown. He informs her that it suits her, and says she and the lion should be friends. From then on he sleeps there atop her figurehead instead of the vacant captain quarters inside. She’s not sure what that means, nor why he’d rather be out here than the comfortable room safe from the elements. 

He was far more unorthodox than the ’powerful’ crew who previously manned her. 

But as each morning comes he lays stretched out across her great figurehead under the light of the dawning sun, small fingers ghosting pictures into her wood, and endless stories trailing from his lips- she realizes she’s never felt so loved. 

It’s an average day on the world’s number one (self assigned rank) seafaring restaurant. A couple of brawls among the chefs, one attempted robbery by a pitiful pirate, way too many orders for the salmon (they were running low). And a marine showed up, not too out of the norm. Well…this one was a bit special. 

They’d only had a few run-ins while he was still a pirate, but they were all memorable. He’d only managed to escape by the skin of his teeth. He’d never come so close to being captured before, he was lucky the man was so easily distracted by food. 

That marine has now seated himself at a noble’s table, and was helping himself to medium rare steak. The sweating noble had long since scuttled off after a single look at the man. Whatever, Zeff wasn’t fond of nobles either. But what he wouldn’t stand for was the man scaring off all the rest of his customers too. 

The old marine appeared to be in a rather foul mood, it weighed down the air, and caused sweat to bead on the patrons unfortunate enough to be seated near him. A wary hush consumes the restaurant. Waiters give him a wide berth, inching between tables slowly. Even the hardboiled chefs are cautious, they peek out from the kitchen brandishing pots and pans. None dared to step out, their normal pugnacity quelled by the man’s presence. The owner doesn’t blame them for it, he knew they wouldn’t stand a chance anyway. 

Their unwelcome guest pays them no mind, grinding his fork against his plate with unnecessary gusto. Everyone shirks back at the horrid sound, petrified, like a horde of wild rabbits seeing a predator loom down upon them. 

It looked like it was up to him to deal with this bastard. 

The entire restaurant’s saucer wide eyes track him in unison when he struts over to the marine. As if he was walking to his own execution. 

Zeff gives the old marine a single cocked brow, unceremoniously dropping a menu down in front of him. “You gonna order something, Garp?”

Garp chews thoughtfully on the noble’s steak, ignoring the menu for now. He stares straight ahead. 

“Have you picked up any brats lately?” Is all the vice admiral asks.

Zeff’s brows raise to his hairline. Brats? The last time he picked up any of those was years ago. The old man wanders his gaze over the crowd until he picks out the blond teen edging closer to Garp’s table. Stupid kid thought he couldn’t handle one measly marine. 

“No, I haven't picked up any brats.” Zeff answers truthfully. Though now he’s a bit curious. This wasn’t what he had been expecting from the Vice Admiral. Luckily he doesn’t have to lower himself to prying, because Garp is already turning around, whipping something out from his coat pocket to shove in his face. Had he been a lesser man he probably would have flinched at the sudden intrusion of his personal space. But he remains calm, squinting at the flurry of colors in his face that he realizes is an old wrinkled photograph. 

The photo is of a newly graying Garp, and three young boys. One with freckles, one blond, and the smallest grasping a too big straw hat. Garp looks years younger, childishly gleeful, his pose reminiscent of a proud fisherman showing off a particularly good catch. Juxtaposing his demeanor the two older boys are clearly very displeased that Garp is holding them up by their shirts. Mouth open in a shout the blond is yanking at the laughing man’s cheek, while the freckled one is biting his arm furiously. Seemingly out of place, the little one with the hat is smiling, it’s a great big grin that takes up most of his round face and screws his eyes shut. He looks like he’s having the time of his life- even though he was being dangled upside down. Garp is absolutely beaming. 

It’s a rather startling contrast to the haggard expression he’s wearing in the present. 

“My youngest grandson-“ he points urgently at the littlest boy, the happy one, “are you sure you haven’t seen him? He’s older than this photo, but the boys don’t like taking family pictures with me for some reason… He’s still tiny, got a scar under his eye, and he’s always wearing that damn hat.”

Garp trails off briefly, anger crossing his features before it melts back into determination. The picture is waggled closer to Zeff’s face. “Anyway he really likes food, I’m sure that rascal would end up at a place like this.” 

A glutton like his grandfather then. Unsurprising. Not one for gossip, he hadn’t known the marine had a family, though he could already tell from the picture that they had inherited Garp’s rambunctious nature. 

Zeff makes a show of examining the photo, stroking his long blond mustache. He’s never seen the kid in his life, but something about him is unexpectedly familiar. Destructive comes to mind. 

“What’s his-“

“Luffy. Monkey D. Luffy.” 

“I haven’t seen him.” The chef confirms plainly. 

He feels a presence and notes his own brat is now hovering over his shoulder, oddly interested in the photo of Garp’s grandson, his face twisted in a perplexed expression. The teen doesn’t even spare the marine a glance, his eye fixated on the picture. 

“Have you?” Zeff prompts, and Sanji blinks rapidly as if startled from a trance. Strange, that boy’s interests usually only laid in food and women. Despite the other workers' attempts in getting Sanji to make friends, he’d never really paid much attention to kids his own age. 

Garp turns on the teen, painfully hopeful. 

Sanji, who is normally confident, steps back, once then twice, almost stumbling over his own feet. “…No…no I haven’t.” 

His voice shakes. He knocks into a nearby table, bracing himself against it heavily causing a loud clatter of dishes- Sanji flinches, finally averting his eyes from the photo of the missing boy with a too big hat and overwhelming grin. 

Frowning, the blond teen dips his head clumsily in farewell, and paws his jacket for a cigarette. He escapes into the kitchen, shouldering the lingering chefs out of his way. They part for him, shooting both him, and Zeff confused glances. Concern for his adoptive son builds in his gut, but he forces himself to put it aside for now. He can only give a slight shrug and quick warning glare to the cooks, their pestering wouldn’t help Sanji open up. 

After Sanji’s departure Garp deflates like a sad balloon. 

“It’s been weeks…” Is all the grandfather says, his large callous hands cradling the worn photo of his grandsons. His eyes are dull, slightly misty. Lines in his face are deep. Silver brows furrowed close together. Garp looks like he aged ten years in a matter of seconds. 

It’s hard to watch the strong man look so defeated. Zeff wouldn’t regularly sympathize with a marine, but he thinks of a young boy with a shared dream, marred by gaunt cheeks, and bone stretched skin. He thinks of Garp’s grandson looking the same. Phantom pain twinges his stomach, and pulls at his sacrificed leg. He sighs. What kind of father would he be if his heart didn’t clench at the thought of another child lost and starving? 

Zeff draws himself up, sending a glare to the patrons still gawking at the mournful grandfather. In a clatter of silverware they cower. Their audience frantically busies themselves with their food, doing their best to appear like they were minding their own damn business. He rolls his eyes. Considering he’s not a fool, he’s sure they’re still straining their ears to eavesdrop on Red Leg Zeff, and the Marine Hero Garp’s conversation. The Baratie was infamous for quarrels that sparked between the rough chefs and customers after all, these people were probably expecting a show. Bastards couldn’t even let an old man have a bit of a breakdown in peace. 

Zeff coughs lightly. Garp twitches and though he doesn’t turn to him, he understands he’s garnered the other man’s attention, so the chef speaks. 

“We’ve got a lot of customers that come from all around the world just to get a taste of our food. Lotta rich fellas, travelers, government types, and even pirates…” it sounds like a brag but it’s the truth, “Would be pretty easy to get a lot of attention just by slapping a photo on the front doors.” 

He pauses, trying to gauge Garp’s reaction. When there’s not much more than the slight widening of his eyes Zeff prods further. Perhaps the man was suspicious of a notoriously grouchy former pirate making an offer like this. Who wouldn’t be. But he had his reasons. 

“I’ve got a kid too, maybe they’re even around the same age.” He watches as Garp lets out a breath he’d likely been holding without realizing it. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind making sure customers got a good look at a picture.”

Garp nods slowly, deliberately, worn eyes never leaving his grandson’s faces. The Baratie shudders. 

“Monkey D. Luffy, was it? We’ll be sure to get the word out about him.” 

It’s a promise made from empathy, and a curse born of ignorance. Those words uttered forth breathe the knowledge of that boy into the world much too soon. 

They’re coming in too fast. 

She knows their days of drifting together are about to end.

Weak baubles of light peeking through the furious storm illuminate a bay wholly unprepared to receive her. Heedless of the panicking night workers, the massive galleon barreling toward the docks looms closer and closer.

Gales of wind and rain wail through her tattered sails, pulling, pushing, fighting. The sea rushes to meet her, grasping her hull, beckoning- no forcing her onward. Faster, and faster. 

Her one man crew is plastered firmly to her main mast, soaked and helpless. 

In her state she wouldn’t stay afloat much longer. She’d sink to the bottom of the ocean, and drag her boy down with her. 

She’d rather damn the very sea she sailed on than allow the only soul that cared for her to perish in its depths. So the Dreadnaught Sabre embraces the storm that tangled its claws into her bones, allowing its rush to send her careening to the shore. 

She won’t survive the impact. 

But he will. 

A puff of smoke drifts lazily from his parted lips, it curls and twists on its slow journey upward dissipating without a trace into the cool morning air. Noting the low position of the sun in the sky, peeking just so from behind the overcast of clouds, he decides yes it is too early for this bullshit. 

And yet the belligerent man yells again, close enough that he’s sure to be getting a deep lung full of cigar smoke. 

“Do your job, and deal with that thieving rat!” 

Captain ‘Chase’ Smoker had thought his hard work was being rewarded when he was assigned to the base at Loguetown, clearly high command must’ve thought well of him if they wanted him as the last defense against pirates before the grandline. As it turned out it wasn’t the vaillant position he had hoped for. Not anymore at least. Despite it all he still performed his duties as diligently as before. Better than most would, and within time under his watch notable events in the town came to a sluggish crawl. 

Monotony was more common than not, it left him restless, feeling like he was waiting for something. Waiting for what, he wasn’t quite sure. ‘A real challenge, an opportunity to enact some actual change and show those upper dogs what true justice is.’

He snorts. 

‘I’m not gonna find that here.’

Commotion rings out some startled cries and scandalized gasps, the agitated man in front of him fueling the racket with his angered demands. 

“The thief! The thief!” 

“I’ll deal with it,” The marine answers flatly, as if it was a fact of life. To him it was. Maybe another man of his rank wouldn’t respond to reports of petty theft, but Smoker did not take his duty as this town’s protector lightly. It was his charge and all forms of crime were to be swiftly dealt with. 

Rolling his broad shoulders he pushes through the gathered crowd.

Low and behold there is in fact a little thief scarfing down a vendor’s entire stock of sausage links. Other citizens gawk slack jawed at the carnage of deli meats, seemingly transfixed by the scene before them. The vendor owner was red in the face, screaming incoherently at the thief who was… just some scrawny kid. Short as hell, with a mess of jet black hair under an old straw hat. They didn’t look like they had any weapons (besides that weird appetite) on them, given their clothes were just a black tank top and shorts, it didn’t seem like they could hide much there.

At his approach the thief twists their upper half around in his direction, one arm still elbow deep in a crate of pork, meat hanging out of their mouth. A pair of big blank eyes glance around, the left accented by a crescent shaped scar beneath it. His hand makes a strange aborted twitch to the jitte on his back.

Frowning, he crosses his arms tightly, and takes in their appearance. Even now seeing their face it was hard to determine the kid’s age, and gender, with their slender build and dirt-to-person ratio mostly being in favor of the dirt. Probably a pre-teen, maybe a boy, who knows, Smoker didn’t exactly spend much time with kids. Either way, he looked like a typical street urchin. The number of those living on the street had greatly been reduced since his assignment here as a result of the steep crime reduction, he took great pride in his part in that, but there were always stragglers. Though kids who ended up on the streets tended to be a lot more crafty about stealing, skittish when spotted they might turn to begging. Not this. Whatever this was. ‘A recent runaway then?’ A starving one if the way he packed that meat down was any indication. 

It wasn’t even cooked yet. 

With a grimace of disgust he stalks forward, ready to haul the brat off to wait in the station for his parents. ‘Or maybe to get him registered at an orphanage.’

They lock eyes, and the kid’s got the nerve to grin at him before taking off at a sprint. 

“Wh- Hey!” Clenching his teeth around his cigar, Smoker barrels after the runaway thief, letting his devil fruit do most of the work maneuvering through the crowd. 

On the other hand, the brat apparently had no qualms with smacking into people, and climbing over any unfortunate soul who didn’t get out of the way fast enough. Quickly a squall of panic is stirred in the civilians. 

“Get back here!” 

At that, the runt looks back at him with a glint in those dark eyes, one hand on his ratty hat, and laughs gleefully like he isn’t being chased down by someone over twice his height. He’s fast. Much faster than he expected, but he’s no match for Smoker. Because for all that he is fast he’s oddly uncoordinated. The boy fails to side step a moving cart, getting his shoulder clipped hard enough that it makes him stumble, the steadying hand he reaches out misses its margin by a lot, and the kid ends up flat on his face. 

Smoker slows his own gait, wondering if the kid just broke his nose on the cobblestone. He doesn’t get much time to ponder it, as soon as he nears his target the kid springs back onto his feet. Not one bit stunned by his fall, he shakes himself like a dog before resuming his sprint. Internally berating himself for slowing down instead of just grabbing him, the marine gives chase again. 

Bouncing off a particularly rotund man the boy uses the momentum to veer sharply to the left, grabbing the pole of a booth as he goes, he uses it to swing his body into another quick turn practically flinging himself into the adjacent alleyway. The little structure had no hope against all that velocity, and comes crashing down over the mouth of the alley. Shocked cries sound out as citizens leap back from the splintering wood, and various products that go flying from the destroyed booth. Smoker had no idea if that was actually planned or not, but made a mental note of vandalism, next to the straw hat kid’s initial petty theft charge. A quick glance assures him none of the citizens were harmed by the debris, so he charges on up and over the wreckage with ease. 

He finds the kid on the other side, but he’s not the only one.

“You!” 

Apparently the straw hat kid had pissed off more than just the vendors. Said Straw Hat grinds to halt, somehow managing to keep his footing in shoes definitely unsuited for running. 

Two unsavory looking armed men block the narrow alleyway, their furious gazes locked on the boy before them. Ah, pirates. They didn’t even spare Smoker a look, and he found himself a little offended they considered the kid more of a threat than him. What could that little brat possibly have done to make him seem more dangerous than him?

One draws his sword, and while trembling with barely controlled rage brings it level with the kid’s face. 

“You’re the little bastard who sank our ship!” 

Smoker snorts involuntarily, what had the rascal messed with a repair job on the hull or something? Figures pirates would rather blame a kid than fix their boats properly. Either way he was more suited for arresting pirates than chasing down kids, the familiarity was welcome, but the threats toward a child were not. He crept forward slowly, a hand sliding toward his jitte, seeing as all their attention was on the boy he could probably get the jump on them with his fruit before they could actually do anything to the child. 

The kid for his part just chews thoughtfully on the meat still stuffed in his mouth, seemingly unbothered by the sword in his face. 

Unbidden, a small hand reaches out and just grabs the blade in a tight grip- all occupants of the alleyway squawk in surprise, and the kid has the gall to yank back his sliced hand staring at the bloody mess like he didn’t understand that blades cut people! 

“You idiot!” Both Smoker, and the pirates scream in collective shock. 

Of course the idiot continues to gawk at his hand, appearing dumbfounded. 

Growling, the swordsman raises his weapon to deliver a proper blow. He doesn’t get the chance to bring down his sword as a white cloud envelops his target, Smoker materializes from the haze clashing his jitte with the sword hard enough to force it from the pirate’s grip. The man’s eyes bug out of his head at his sudden appearance. At the sight of Smoker’s marine uniform his eyes widen further, and he gives a panicked shriek. His companion abandons him immediately, and he turns tail to run too, but Smoker is already on top of him, slamming him face first into the ground. He cuffs the winded man with practiced ease, and rounds up the other fleeing pirate in the same manner. 

Despite all the commotion the kid hasn’t moved from his spot, transfixed by the blood that’s now running down his forearm from his hand. Smoker trudges to him, leaving the two pirates on the ground, the boy doesn’t react to his approach. 

It’s like he’s rooted in place, clenching and unclenching his hand in confusion. 

“Quit that, you’re making it worse,” He growls out. Dark eyes snap up to his own, a dazed glaze making them appear unfocused. The kid sort of nods, and goes to rip the bottom of his shirt. 

Disgruntled Smoker prevents him from tearing the fabric, carefully prying the boy’s fingers off the filthy shirt.

 “You can’t use that, you’ll get your wound infected.” 

He tears a strip from the bottom of his own jacket, which is clean despite the chase, and swiftly wraps the boy’s hand. The kid tries to backpedal at the sudden close proximity but it’s too late, the marine secures a firm grip on his forearm with a sharp glare. After a quick message to the base via snail to request someone to pick up the captured pirates, he addresses the little thief again.

“You’re quite the trouble maker, brat. Come on, I’ll treat your wound properly at the station, and your parents will be notified of your…antics.” Unsurprisingly that got a rise out of the boy. 

“My what!? How are you calling my dad?” The kid squirms in his grip, but ultimately allows himself to be dragged away. He lifts his bloodied hand to his chin in thought, the red that seeps through the cloth smearing on his face. “I don’t think he’d get mad.” 

Smoker huffs rolling his eyes, of course whatever irresponsible cretin that raised this little devil wouldn’t care about their son stealing. The walk to the station is surprisingly uneventful, the kid refuses to walk and gets pulled along the whole way there, the bottom of his sandals providing no traction on the ground as he slides. 

The station is empty when Smoker enters it with the brat in tow, the other marines manning this area must have gone to get the pirates he apprehended. Wanting to get this over with before his subordinates return with the pirates, Smoker marches up to the nearest desk then hoists the short kid onto the top. The dark haired brat allows himself to be plopped down on the desk, blinking owlishly and swinging his feet as Smoker grumbles out a quick: “Stay there.”

He turns heel and shuffles through the meticulously organized first aid station for the things he needs. Quickly enough he returns to the boy with a handful of supplies. His tall stature has him at a disadvantage currently, with how small the boy is he has to scrunch himself down to get a good look at the wound. 

Smoker removes the soiled cloth from the kid’s hand, the congealing blood causing it to stick a bit to the cut. The kid doesn’t flinch at all. He cleans up the blood with a wet cloth, and then the wound with some antiseptic. Removing the blood reveals how deep the cut is, and he clicks his tongue, displeased. Smoker sighs a bit in sympathy, stupid kid probably wouldn’t be grabbing swords any time soon again at least. He wasn’t a doctor; he couldn't do much beyond basic first aid, so he sets about applying an actual bandage to the kid’s hand. Noting how silent his patient has been the whole time he flicks his gaze to his face to assess his expression. 

The brat is watching him wrap the bandage around his injured palm, his brow furrowed though he doesn’t cease swinging his legs. One of his sandals slips off his foot, and onto the ground with a muted slap. 

“This island is weird,” he announces abruptly, then after a pause of consideration, “You’re weird.” 

The marine cocks a brow, opting to ignore the insult in favor of encouraging the boy to give him more info. 

“How so?” 

Those wide eyes blink up at him, almost pleadingly, and he finds himself bizarrely unnerved. 

“Nobody’s trying to kill me, or fight me, or arrest me!” Straw Hat gestures wildly, and Smoker is forced to grab his skinny wrist so he can finish bandaging his hand. 

“You literally just got attacked,” Smoker points out drily, and internally winces at his own lack of tact. Why the hell would this kid expect to get killed anyway? Stealing food wasn’t really a crime generally punished by death. Running into those pirates just seemed unlucky. 

“That doesn’t count,” is the immediate response from the kid, but he doesn’t provide any further elaboration on that. Before the marine can attempt to ask him to, he's already speaking again, pointing his free hand directly into his face. “You’re the most weird part of this place! Why aren’t you trying to arrest me?” 

His voice pitches up into a distressed whine as he spoke, scowling in a way that gave the impression he was unpracticed at it. Smoker wisely chose not to tell him that he was technically already in custody. Straightening from his slouched position he had adopted to wrap the kid’s wound, he pushes the grubby hand still pointing at him away, but keeps ahold of the kid’s wrist. He definitely seemed liable to try to run again, and he didn’t want to deal with the brat getting himself hurt again by doing something stupid. 

“Where are your parents? Or guardians?” He wasn’t about to keep an injured kid in a cell overnight over some petty thievery. Whoever was unlucky enough to be in charge of the kid would be fined for the food he stole, and he’d likely be eligible for some community service. He had mentioned a father, though it sounded like the guy was a deadbeat. 

“What are you talking about? I don’t know where dad is, you’re acting so weird,” The last word was spat out like it was a curse, his little frame tensing in frustration. “Everything has been so weird lately!” 

That exclamation seems to bring him to a boiling point, and suddenly his whole body slumps in defeat, all his previous zeal washing away like footprints to the tide. 

“I saw Ace,” He admits in an uncertain little voice, like he shouldn’t even be saying that. There’s a strange weight to the words, as if he expects it to mean something to him as well. The dirty kid stares down at his hands, one still in captured the marine’s grasp, but he doesn’t appear to notice. Those big eyes grow distant and misty, his bottom lip trembles.

 He looks like he’s about to cry.

“…it was probably just a dream,” Chewing his lip, his eyes slide to the floor where they stare at his fallen sandal forlornly. He doesn’t seem to fully believe what he said, but continues to mutter anyway as if trying to convince himself. “I dream about him a lot, and Chopper says you can see things that aren’t real when your brain is being mean.. ha- haloo bin nations..?” 

“Hallucinations,” Smoker corrected automatically, an uncomfortable twist wrenching in his gut. He feels like a fish out of water, comforting kids was certainly not in his repertoire. 

That mop of black hair bobs once in a nod. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

 It isn’t, but he doesn’t feel like arguing with a teary eyed kid.

Chapter Text

Thick bandages hid the stem of red, and the tiny palm that was buried beneath them. The wrist he held felt minuscule, soft with baby fat and frail little bones. If he grasped too tight he feared they’d splinter, rending through that fragile flesh.

Perhaps this might do more damage than just leaving it be.

Looming down at his despondent captive, an inexplicable sense of disillusion hits him like a brick- and it’s so bewildering he nearly freezes in place.

Captain Smoker was no stranger to being disappointed by wannabe criminals- yet this was nothing but a small child, why did the idea of him being weak throw him for such a loop? (Why the hell had he felt he’d finally found a real challenge?)

A quite sniffle pulls him out of his uneasy stewing.

Awkwardly, he reaches out and drops a hand into messy black locks. With a little start the kid blinks up at him, a bewildered expression fixed on his round face, tears still lingering in the corners of his eyes.

Something comes over him in a wave, body tensing his youthful face seems to harden. His jaw clicks shut, and with a determined huff he smacks one of his cheeks with his free hand. Visibly pulling himself out of his slump, the kid squares his shoulders before promptly tossing himself off the desk.

He doesn’t get very far. Smoker switches his grip from the kid’s wrist to loop an arm around his middle, successfully hoisting him off the floor.

“Oi! Lemme go, bastard!” Smoker earns a few surprisingly hard kicks to the side, before he allows the rest to pass through his smoke harmlessly. His feral cargo squeals beneath his arm. “Why isn’t it working!? Why can’t I hit you?!”

That was the usual reaction to anyone’s first encounter with a Logia fruit eater. The boy probably hadn’t had any run ins with fruit users considering his young age, and the passive sea they were in.

“I’ve gotta go find my crew, things will stop being weird when they’re around!” He announces resolutely, glaring hard up at Smoker, though his young face made it look more like a pout. There’s a twitch in his expression, and he then he amends his statement. “…Or maybe they’ll keep being weird, but it’s ok if we’re together!”

His crew? Ah, the kid must be a cabin boy for one of the ships docked here. A little young for that though. He couldn’t imagine what life must be like for the sailors stuck on a boat twenty-four seven with this little hellion. Smoker was more than ok with reuniting the boy with his crew if it meant he wouldn’t be running around destroying his island anymore. Though he’d be sure to hand over a hefty fine to the person in charge of the brat…

“Where’s your ship docked, brat? I’ll take you back to it, and let them deal with you.” 

That was the magic phrase apparently.

The boy goes completely limp, the previous tension of his body melting away like it had never existed, now completely content to be treated like a particularly bothersome sack of potatoes. It’s so sudden Smoker instinctively tightens his hold so the boneless boy doesn’t slip out of his grasp.

A snicker sounds from below. There a blinding smile stretches across the kid’s face, it was quite the contrast to the expression he had been making just moments before.

Smoker clears his throat awkwardly, not sure what to do on the receiving end of such an innocent look. He gruffly situates the boy under his arm, holding him like a football, and fixes his gaze forward rather than at that elated grin. It’s too late, the kid is already babbling at lightening speed about things that were decidedly not helpful at finding his ship.

Something about this new ship not being nearly as fun as his actual ship, but still pretty cool, though Smoker wasn’t sure why fun would be a required criteria in choosing boats. Nevertheless, he sets out toward the nearest dock rather than trying to parse any useful information from the flood of inane words coming out of the boy’s mouth. With no desire for anymore attention from locals the pair slips into a side street.

“What’s your name anyway, brat?” His question interrupts the kid’s rambling about eating fish straight from his ship’s…aquarium? Did the kid work on a fishing vessel?

In response the boy gives him a weird look, his brows furrowed and mouth slightly ajar, likely cross that his story was interrupted.

He seemed frozen for a solid second, almost hesitant. A drawl of silence passes as his dark eyes flit across Smoker’s expectant face, searching. He doesn’t find it. His jaw clicks shut finally, and he swallows a dry gulp of air.

“…I’m Luffy,” It lacked his previous enthusiasm, coming out in a muttered displeased tone. “Monkey D. Luffy! Don’t forget it this time, stupid-head!”

Reflexively Smoker rolls his eyes. The kid definitely hadn’t introduced himself before now so he doesn’t know why he’s all riled up. Though that name was more than just familiar- it itched at the back of his mind and sent a jolt down his spine.

He needs to ask. The alley the two were cutting through gave them some semblance of privacy.

“Monkey D. Huh?“ Glancing down at the kid- Luffy, held under his arm he watched as the child pursed his lips, and started to squirm. He considers the events of the day. Yeah, the connection is not at all surprising looking at it that way. “Are you related to Vice Admiral Garp?”

Normally he wouldn’t have even considered it. However, this town was privy to plenty of information brought by the many ships that passed through, and the most recent murmurings were about the Vice Admiral’s strange movement in the East Blue. He had apparently just set off one day without notice, and was practically rampaging across the sea. The appearance of his battleship-class vessel at numerous islands left locals baffled and startled. That in itself wasn’t too strange, the fact that he’d dock for an hour at most then leave without any explanation was. More concerning were reports that Garp was actively stopping, and briefly boarding both merchant and civilian ships. Any encounters he had with pirates were significantly more brutal than usual. His erratic behavior had certainly put people on edge, though word had it that he was searching for something- or rather some one . A kid.

It was at this point just a rumor, the official reason the Vice Admiral was in the East Blue was to investigate the movements of the notorious pirate Don Kreig’s fleet.

The pirate’s activity had recently gone dead quiet.

Therein lies the issue, as far as he knew Garp didn’t have any reason to go into such a frenzied state over someone like Don Kreig, but for a missing person, allegedly someone who was his family? That made a lot more sense. Monkey wasn’t exactly a common surname. Smoker himself didn’t know if Garp had any children, let alone a grandson. The man was known for being blunt and overzealous, the idea of him keeping such a secret for so long made him want to doubt the claim.

But…he recalls his initial meeting with the fearless boy stuffing his face, and dashing away with a shit-eating grin…the familial resemblance was horrifically uncanny.

The marine stares down his now sweating cargo suspiciously.

Luffy doesn’t respond this time, resuming his struggling with a renewed fervor. Smoker sighs, dragging his free hand down his face.

Of course Garp’s family would be like this. Relenting, he relaxes his hold on the brat and lets him drop down to the ground. Then he sets his hands upon his hips, and towers over him. Surprisingly choosing not to flee, Luffy picks at his bandages, canting his head like a dog.

“Does Garp know what you’ve been doing?” He doubted it. “Wouldn’t you rather be a marine like him than a cabin boy?”

Garp’s relative takes being scolded just as he would.

Luffy sticks out his tongue, and blows a raspberry for good measure. “No! I’m a pirate!”

Smoker curls his lip at that, feeling a certain sense of disgust, and fuming anger hearing those words come out of this kid’s mouth.

Hands leave his hips, and ball up into fists. Luffy mirrors him, defiant.

“A pirate? You’re not a pirate just because you work on a ship, boy. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It was better to stomp down silly ideas like this at an early age, it was a little surprising the Vice Admiral hadn’t done so already. The kid must be stubborn. He was young, he hadn’t yet seen the evils of the world, and that lent itself to the cultivation of dangerous fantasies all for the sake of adventure .

He looms closer, as if the proximity would let the boy physically feel his sincerity or get his point across sooner.

“Pirates aren’t just people looking for adventure- they’re criminals and they won’t have any issue with hurting kids like you.”

The expression Luffy sends him is so scandalized. On his face it looks strange enough that he almost laughs. It’s absurd, the surge of anger he previously felt leaves behind a dizzying head rush.

Why was he arguing with a child?

The marine waves a gloved hand in the air, trying to physically dispel the tension he had created.

“Come on, let’s just go find your ship.”

He’d find a way to discretely contact Vice Admiral Garp about all this later, and let him deal with his family member. This wasn’t really any of his business.

Luffy was very clearly confused by the abrupt end of Smoker’s lecture, shuffling his feet when the marine tried to urge him forward.

They travel in silence. Mood squandered until the breadth of the alleyway breaks way onto one of Loguetown’s main streets.

Bountiful shops, busy restaurants, colorful merchants, and chipper tourists suddenly fill their view. The hustle and bustle of the town was to be expected at this time of year.

Luffy perks back up, though it takes a few minutes for his soured look to fully fade away, and he’s back to spewing tall tales about his imaginary lion ship full of ridiculous things only a child could come up with.

The marine eases his stride to allow the child to keep pace with him, they gain a few curious glances from onlookers, but none that linger. No one seems all too suspicious of the boy following him. These folks likely hadn’t witnessed the commotion earlier, and thus Luffy was just another street urchin to them. Despite feeling very out of his element with a chattering shadow on his heels Smoker involuntarily feels the tension leave his own body in the softening of his shoulders, while Luffy’s high pitch voice melds into the background. 

A waft of warm baked goods from a nearby bakery hits his nose, and his brief respite is interrupted by a heinously loud gurgle.

The source of the growl clutches at his stomach dramatically. Big dewy doe eyes pleading.

Smoker sighs.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Luffy’s lip begins to tremble.

“Fine.”

The course of his day was becoming more detailed as it went on, but he wasn’t one to deny a kid food, no matter how unruly they were.

Perhaps he assumed too much thinking word hadn’t spread about Luffy’s various food crimes, because as they approach  vendors eye the kid warily. As so to not frighten them further he steers the rascal to a place he dines regularly. It’s sat at a block corner, out of the way from the regular tourist traffic, the usuals were mostly locals. Though the restaurant was never packed, it was never empty either, seemingly always occupied by some perpetual elderly couple.

They enter the establishment and Luffy wastes no time eagerly climbing into a chair, kicking his feet impatiently once seated. Smoker follows suit at his own pace, drawing out a chair across the table and settling with a huff.

He’s barely sat down before a blonde haired waitress approaches them with menus clasped in hand, expression warm. She opens her brightly painted lips to greet Smoker, but her gaze suddenly snaps to Luffy like a magnet.

“Who’s this little fella?” She fawns over the small child despite his dirty appearance.

Luffy on the other hand only has eyes for the pictures of food on the menu. He’s already pointing his grubby hands at various meals, rattling off a rather long list of “I want”s and “can I have”s.

To Smoker’s horror the waitress just nods along with an adoring smile, jotting down each order on an equally increasingly long bill.

While relieved the kid wasn’t holding a grudge against him for their brief spat he hadn’t planned on spending all his pay on a single meal. After a period of discussion Smoker only just manages to negotiate the boy down to ‘only’ ordering six different items.

The waitress departs with a light laugh, and a pleased smile. “He’s a growing boy.”

She’s back sooner than expected, arms laden with steaming plates of freshly cooked food.

Seeing the exorbitant amount of plates spread across their table Smoker has a moment of doubt in his own judgement, but it is soon quelled when Luffy begins to scarf the food down like a starving beast. The speed in which he eats is admittedly impressive, and also fairly disgusting. He gulps down bites of food that would choke a man three times his size, and Smoker could’ve sworn he saw the kid’s jaw unhinge at some point.

By the time he pulls himself out of his stupor food is already disappearing off his own plate. How Luffy had managed to sneak it from across the table eluded him. He guards his plate a bit more lax than he should, in hopes to catch him in the act he tells himself, though he wonders if he should have ordered more for the clearly very hungry boy.

There’s the barest lull in the munching, so he decides to break it with a question that’s been bothering him since this morning.

“Why the hell did you grab that sword like that?”

Luffy has the decency to appear embarrassed for the length of a mere two seconds.

“Was gonna break it.”

What.

“What.”

“I’m strong, usually they-“ Luffy makes a crushing motion with the hand that isn’t occupied with shoving food in his mouth, “-they break.”

He looks peeved as if the sword had betrayed him by cutting him instead of shattering in his very cuttable hand. Dumbfounded by his audacity Smoker questions silently if it was safe to let the boy loose on the world.

He makes the mistake of trying to reason with him.

“You can’t just grab swor-“

“Yes I can!”

“No, you canno-“

“It should’ve broke! They were weak!”

“Maybe compared to me, but you’re just a kid, any random pirate could kil-“

The marine’s words are rudely drowned out by a glaring Luffy blowing aggressively through his straw, bubbles over flowing from his cup onto the table. Just as Smoker is preparing to do something equally as petty, the check is placed neatly into his hand.

The blonde waitress eyes glint teasingly.“Your boy has got quite the appetite!”

He had been drug down into arguing with a child again, and this time someone had witnessed it. Smoker deflates, embarrassment shoring his cheeks, which only worsens when he realizes what she had said, and before he can correct her she’s already flitting away to an elderly patron in the corner.

He pays the hefty bill, and hurries the thankfully oblivious boy out the door. The end of the day’s meandering crowd outside parts for the tall solider, but little Luffy is nearly swallowed by the slew of passerby’s. Automatically he takes his wrist so as to not lose him in the crowd. A woman coos at the pair, causing Smoker quickly exit the area with the boy in tow.

Leaving behind the busy streets they trudge on to the dock, Smoker making sure Luffy doesn’t get too far from him until the port finally comes into view. This east harbor was nestled far away from the hustling crowds of the civilian marinas, and navy docks. It was a smaller port, one mainly used by local fishermen and the occasional merchant. Though tame in comparison this harbor wasn’t without its own jovial noise, carried out by the bustling of dockworkers and fishermen. People were loud where they were most comfortable, and here one could almost pretend this was just their town again, not the revered place where the Pirate King was both birthed and killed. Smoker didn’t find himself here often, the locals here were older, less fond of the marine presence in Loguetown. Still he’d send patrols this way, making sure the small east harbor kept up its content bantering, safe like the rest of his town.

Today the harbor is quiet.

Suspicion wells in his mind, and once he turns the corner immediately the reason for the silence becomes apparent.

Heedlessly, Luffy bounds forward. Straight into a great menacing shadow that’s cast over the entire area, more akin to miasma than darkness. Dread bites at his heels.

Hastily, Smoker takes a few large strides, and snatches Luffy by his tank top, causing him to yelp. He ducks behind the cover of a nearby shipping crate, tucking his reckless black haired cargo close to the safety of the barrier. Alarm raises the hairs on the back of his neck. Somehow Luffy doesn’t appear to understand what’s going on. Squirming he tries to wrench Smoker’s fingers off his shirt.

“Quit it!” He hisses at the boy, giving him a small shake. Luffy didn’t know how much danger he was in right now. That shadow he strolled into like shade on a summer day belonged to a threat that had no right to be here.

Rocking with the rolling waves of the ocean is a huge galleon ship with a purple lattice pattern criss-crossing up to the hissing snake figure head upon her bow; the Dreadnaught Sabre floats aimlessly, haunting the empty docks like the rotting corpse of a Sea King. (Harmless on its own, but it’s unmoving jaws still belay the ferocity that lies hidden in the depths. Pirate ships too wracked fear of the sea into the hearts of many even while ‘dead’.) It was her presence that had long since caused the inhabitants of the harbor to flee. That was the appropriate reaction for any civilian. He could only hope they were safe. She was infamous after all, her crew’s prolonged silence had spurred worried anticipation as to where she’d appear next, and here she was, the largest of the Krieg Pirates’ fleet, Don Krieg’s flagship. Alone.

‘Why?’

Upon closer inspection it became apparent that the flagship wasn’t actually docked, she was rammed up onto the pier as if she had approached at flank speed. But given  the ship herself was in extremely poor condition- Her tattered sails flowed helplessly in the wind, unable to catch the air to free her great body from the wake and wood that kept her trapped in the harbor -it didn’t seem as if she could have ever reached the necessary speed for that. Most of the damage couldn’t have been obtained by a botched docking, it looked as if a battle had been wrought aboard her deck, leaving nothing of the Dreadnaught Sabre unscathed. How she hadn’t succumbed to the ocean was a mystery.

If Smoker were a more sentimental man he say any well loved ship would go through hell and back for her crew, holding together till her planks split apart. But Don Krieg was not a man who loved, and this ship had no reason to survive these wounds.

If the Dreadnaught Sabre loved her crew it was unrequited. Not a soul lingered by her to grieve her state or attempt to heal her injuries. Save for a lone patch on her figurehead, messy yet sincere. Why someone had risked the waves for something cosmetic, but not repaired her sails so she’d be useful again , was beyond him. (Maybe someone did care for her. It didn’t matter now, no amount of love would save a carcass.)

Her hull creaks mournfully. Only the marine and the increasingly impatient boy are around to hear her cries. There didn’t appear to be anyone on the once powerful galleon at all either, the surrounding docks were just as quiet, frozen in a fearful awe. Air was stagnant around her, waiting in vain. Her crew wouldn’t be returning for her. She was naught but another reminder of the sea’s greed now.

Nevertheless, Smoker kept behind cover to make sure they weren’t about to be ambushed. Don Krieg was not a noble man, he was known for using cheap tactics to gain what he desired. He wouldn’t put it past the pirate to destroy one of own his ships to appear weakened. Perhaps he’d raise a yellowjack to lure in any would-be rescuers, and then rob them blind. But the Dreadnaught Sabre wasn’t just one of his fleet, she was his personal ship, the Krieg Pirates’ flagship. A crew’s pride was its flagship, for her to be in such a state…

That ship wasn’t sailable anymore, which meant her crew had to be somewhere. It was possible the ship had been abandoned before she reached the island and just drifted here, but why? What happened to cause the so-called ‘Ruler of the East Blue’ to abandon such a valuable galleon?

Why had no one notified him when this showed up? He should have been the first to know when any Jolly Roger was spotted near town. Had she got here so recently the news of her arrival hadn’t reached him? That felt like a sloppy excuse, he was responsible for the protection of this town, he needed to investigate immediately.

Cautiously he steps out from behind the container, being sure to keep Luffy behind him. Or at least that was his intent, it took all of two seconds for the kid to duck between his legs, and race toward the ship. 

“You idiot! That’s Don Krieg’s flagship!” He lunged forward to grab the kid, and at the same moment Luffy comes to a stop. They end up crashing into each other, Luffy taking the brunt of it flattening out onto his back, while Smoker manages to regain his footing immediately. Oddly enough the kid starts to laugh.

“Shishishi! Oh I forgot his name!” Luffy bounces up to his feet unfazed by his meeting with the ground, a gleeful smile splitting his face. The scar under his eye warps with the pull of his grin. For some reason it annoys him. “He couldn’t swim well, I think he’s dead.”

“What.”

“When you die in the water it means you drowned.” Luffy nods sagely. He continues, gesturing childishly, like he hadn’t just announced the death of one of the most powerful pirate captains in the East Blue. “He couldn’t get all that armor off and sank real deep, his crew must’ve not liked him much ‘cause no one jumped in after him- mine always do!”

Smoker is suddenly a lot closer than before, towering over Luffy.

“Is this the ship you were working on, Luffy?”

If Luffy notices the real meaning of the question he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead he places his hands on his hips and serves up a proud grin.

“No!”

Smoker let’s out a sigh of relief.

“I stole it!”

Smoker proceeds to suck that sigh back into his lungs so hard he doubles over into a coughing fit.

Luffy startles and asks if he’s alright, but he waves off the kid’s concerns, focusing on trying to catch his breath again.

His mind swims. 

“You’re actually a pirate?” The words come out in a single stunned breath. Thoughts racing.

And that stupid sunny brat still waiting for his growth spurt gives him a look like he’s the dumb one, and throws his little hands in the air.

“Duh! I’m the man who’s gonna be the pirate king!”

Smoker looks back down onto Luffy, eyes lingering on the bandage on his hand, and the innocence that gleams about his joyful face and decides:

“ Absolutely not. ”

“…Eh?”