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When Law was seven, he’d gotten appendicitis and had to have surgery. He knew the surgery was safe—his parents performed them all the time, and he’d even gotten to watch a few simple ones from behind a window—but he’d still been nervous. His parents weren’t allowed to do his surgery, but they were both with him until he was wheeled back. Law knew all the other doctors and nurses at the hospital from all the time he spent shadowing his parents, though, and they’d put him at ease before he’d gone under.
He’d been groggy as he’d woken up in the recovery room, but one of the first things he’d noticed was his hand in his mother’s, her thumb idly stroking the back of his hand. She’d given him a watery smile when she’d noticed he was awake.
“Why are you crying?” he’d asked hazily. “You do surgeries all the time.”
“None of those surgeries were my baby boy,” she’d replied, tightening her grip for a moment before letting go to brush Law’s hair from his face. “It’s harder when it’s someone you love, Law,” she’d said before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Later, the nurses had brought him to a private room, where he’d stayed for two days while he recovered. His parents went back to work the next day but made sure to alternate their shifts so one of them could always be with Law, and during the day, they even brought Lami. She’d clambered onto the hospital bed, curling up next to Law and taking his hand in her two small ones.
Law wasn’t sure why that memory had come back to him now as he sat at Straw Hat’s bedside, listening to the beeping machinery and watching the rise and fall of his heavily bandaged chest. He’d sat at many a bedside—mostly his crew’s—after surgery, yet he’d completely forgotten about it until that moment; and the strength of the memory had taken him by surprise, leaving his breath caught in his throat.
It had been a grueling fourteen-hour surgery with his Room active nearly the entire time to save the boy’s life after the damage he’d taken at Marineford, and though it had been several days since then, Straw Hat wasn’t out of the woods—though every minute, every hour, every day that he kept breathing improved his long-term odds.
Despite the clever epithet the Marines had given him, Law was invested in the boy’s survival, especially when Law’s decision to intervene in the middle of a war between some of the biggest players on the Grand Line had put an even bigger target on his and his crew’s backs, so once he’d slept for a solid sixteen hours after the surgery and confronting Boa Hancock, of all people, he’d made his way back to Straw Hat’s side and hadn’t left. He’d kept an eye on the boy’s vitals, changed his IVs, cleaned and redressed his wounds, but mostly he’d sat and kept watch.
Law knew his crew was wondering what had possessed him to sail into the middle of a war for the sake of a stranger, but Law hadn’t even been able to explain his decision to himself. He’d been turning that choice over in his head as he sat sentinel over the young captain, but all he could come up with was that it had felt like something he needed to do.
Only Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were aware of Law’s full name, and once Monkey D. Luffy had started making waves in the papers, they’d given him curious looks. Law had shrugged them off, but he had admittedly taken an interest in the young captain who openly wore the initial his parents had been adamant he and Lami keep hidden for a reason they’d never get the chance to share. And when he’d seen the boy punch a Celestial Dragon at the auction house, Cora-san’s words from all those years had come roaring back into his ears: “There have often been people who have the name D. who gained public notoriety, and old people would frown and mutter, ‘D. will surely bring us another storm.’ And in some places, there are people who call the Family of D. sworn enemy of the gods.”
Law couldn’t help but feel that Monkey D. Luffy had a bigger storm to bring than he already had. More than that, though, he didn’t think the boy’s story deserved to end when the last thing he saw was his beloved brother dying in his arms after coming from the skies like an avenging angel to save him. And so, Law sat at his bedside, doing everything in his power to make sure he survived.
Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat as the memory from nearly two decades earlier flashed across his mind’s eye, Law found himself leaning forward in his chair and taking Straw Hat’s limp hand in his own just as his mother and Lami had done for him all those years ago.
“I’m not going to let you die, Straw Hat-ya,” he promised. “Your story doesn’t end here.”
“Any change?”
Luffy blinked at the soft voice and turned to see Chopper standing in the infirmary doorway. He shook his head as he turned back to the occupant of the Sunny’s infirmary bed. Torao was wrapped in bandages and hooked to a bunch of beeping machines that only Chopper and Bepo seemed to understand. His normally tan skin was pale except for where it was discolored by bruises, and his hair was messy without his hat to hide it. Luffy hated how small and faded out Torao looked; when Luffy thought of Torao, he was big and bright, deep blues and sharp yellows, golden eyes and black tattoos, wicked smirks and—on rare occasions that Luffy treasured—soft smiles.
Lying in the bed now, Torao was none of those things. Luffy hated it.
It had been ten days since they’d gotten the paper with the news of what had happened between Torao and Blackbeard at Winner Island and had immediately turned the ship in that direction and a week since they’d found an exhausted Bepo swimming with an unconscious Torao on his back.
They’d pulled the Heart Pirates’ navigator and captain from the water, laying them out on Sunny’s lawn; Bepo had had just enough energy to beg them to help his captain, as though that was ever in question, before he’d passed out. The Straw Hats, knowing just how strong and smart Torao was, had been shocked to see the shape he’d been in. Being in the water had washed away most of the blood from his fight with Blackbeard, but his visible skin had been covered in scrapes and bruises in various stages of healing.
Chopper had immediately taken charge, ordering Bepo and Torao brought to the infirmary. While Jinbei had taken Bepo, Luffy had carefully scooped up his ally—no, the alliance was over, but they were friends; Torao was nakama even if they were the captains of two different crews—into his arms and brought him to the infirmary.
Though Torao had lost his crew to Blackboard. He’d lost everything to Blackbeard—his nakama, his ship, even his hat and sword.
It had taken Bepo two days to wake up—which was mostly exhaustion, Chopper said—but once he had, he’d told the Straw Hats about being ambushed by Blackbeard, about Torao’s brave fight and Blackbeard’s terrifying Devil Fruit. Fruits, Bepo had amended with a shudder. He’d been in tears as he told them about grabbing Torao before Blackbeard could kill him for his Devil Fruit and Torao’s desperate plea not to leave their nakama behind before he’d finally lost consciousness.
“I’m sorry I left them,” the Mink had whispered wetly. “But he was going to kill Law. I couldn’t let him kill the captain.”
None of the Straw Hats had argued when Luffy declared they were going to Winner Island. If any of the Hearts were there, they would find them. And then Luffy was going to kill Blackbeard. Two years ago, Blackbeard had taken Ace from him, and now he’d tried to take Torao. Rage wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Luffy felt burning under his skin when he thought of Blackbeard.
While Sunny headed toward Winner Island, Luffy hadn’t been able to tear himself from Torao’s side. Bepo also rarely left his captain’s bedside, only leaving to rest or eat when Chopper made him by guilting him into doing what Torao would want. It was harder for him to get Luffy to leave Torao’s side since Luffy was the captain. But even Luffy was human; he’d eventually fallen asleep in the chair next to Torao’s bed, waking up only briefly when Zoro had carried him back to his bunk. As soon as he’d eaten breakfast the next morning, he’d been back at Torao’s side.
Chopper nodded sadly at Luffy’s silent report and made his way to Torao’s bedside. He looked at the numbers on the beeping machines and wrote down some stuff in his notes before heading back to the door. His shoulders slumped, and Luffy knew the reindeer was getting worried about Torao not waking up. But there was only so much he could do; the rest was up to Torao.
“Let me know if anything changes,” Chopper said, just like he did every time he came in and Torao was still unconscious, and Luffy nodded. “We should reach Winner Island in a few hours,” he added, pausing at the door. “Bepo’s helping Nami plot the course.”
“Thanks, Chopper,” Luffy said without looking away from Torao.
A moment later, the door closed, and Luffy was left alone with Torao again. Luffy ran a weary hand over his face and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“We’re almost there, Torao,” he told his silent companion. “We’re going to find your nakama, and they need you. Bepo needs you.” His bottom lip trembled. “I need you,” he added quietly, reaching out to take Torao’s limp hand in his own. There was an IV inserted in the back of his hand, right in the middle of the tattoo, so Luffy was careful not to jostle it as he stroked his thumb over Torao’s skin, tracing the pattern of ink he’d found so fascinating from the first time he’d seen the other man back on Sabaody, even before he’d seen how cool his powers were when they’d fought together.
Luffy wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point since they’d met again on Punk Hazard, Torao had become one of his most precious people. He’d almost lost Torao back on Dressrosa—he’d been so angry when he’d realized Torao had been expecting to die there that he’d punched Torao in the jaw for it when they were on Barto’s ship afterward because Torao needed to live; his life was worth more than Mingo had deserved then and it was more than Blackbeard deserved now.
“You’re so strong, Torao,” Luffy said, squeezing the other captain’s hand. “And lots of people miss you. So, wake up, okay?”
Luffy would be there when he did, just like Torao had been there for him so many times before. Because if Luffy was sure of anything, it was that their story didn’t end here, not yet.