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Luffy feels like a fish in water in the vibrant, hospitable land of Zou.
He doesn't really need much to take to any given place, its unique feel, its people, and yet even he notices that there's something extraordinary about Zou, which truly draws even the most reluctant outsider into its exotic, loud embrace. Luffy's not reluctant, not in the very least — he loves the fluffy, outspoken Minks, their strange approaches to regular people like himself, their sweet, mellow foods, the way the sun sets over the horizon of fluttering leaves and glances off the waterfalls falling many, many feet down to the distant sea, the stars over the land and all else there is to love about it. Luffy's heart is big — he can find space for these many things, and more.
He also loves the feeling that comes with liberating any certain place — Cocoyashi Village, Alabasta, Dressrosa, Punk Hazard. Well, "liberating" is a just grand word that he's heard Robin and some others use, not much more. In truth, he loves to throw a feast: to see his crew happy and everyone else around happy, to get drunk on that wholesome atmosphere that only a crowd of content people create and warmed by their grateful smiles along with the bowls of steaming hot soup they hand him throughout the evening.
This time, the banquet feels particularly rewarding. The night is warm, almost stuffy despite the sea breeze and dew from Zunesha's most recent shower, which hasn't yet dried up on the wax-coated leaves of Zouian plants and bushes due to the humid heat. The bonfires don't help with that, but no one would think of putting them out — not when their fires are so bright and so cheery, casting orange flickers on everything in their range. They smell of old timber, meat fried right over the flames, some mix of earthy spices the Minks use to transform its outer layer into an aromatic crisp. Luffy pushes past them, a cup of some sticky juice in one hand, trying to maneuver it without spilling with certain difficulty. It's sweet and thick in his mouth, almost sap rather than a liquid, with a distinct flowery flavor that he can't even describe. He doesn't know where he's going or what he's laughing at, but it doesn't matter, as long as he's got space in front of him to cover, places to visit whose existence he's yet to discover.
Swerving dangerously close to one of the fires, he feels their hotness on his cheeks. A Mink he doesn't even recognize pats him on the back, nearly sending the contents of his cup into the flames, but Luffy veers to the side expertly and hugs the Mink back, feeling their warm tongue somewhere on the side of his face. He's greeted countless people — well, Minks — like that in the past hours and he knows already he'll miss their thick fur under his hands, soft ears and warm backs as they grab him, saying their garchus before going their own ways again. Here, everyone knows him, even if they've never spoken or met before, and he knows them equally so — he loves that too. He nuzzles the Mink's cheek back, pushes the cup of juice into their hands to get rid of it and wriggles himself out of the hug. He'll probably never see that person again, but there's some good feeling about that anyway. The Minks have it sorted out simpler than people, and better in more ways than one too.
Luffy circles the bonfire, this time maintaining proper distance before his straw hat gets into flame-related trouble, thinks he sees Sanji in the crowd and tries to chase him, then decides it must have been somebody else after all. Going on that way, with nothing and everything on his mind, he finds himself in a calmer region of the party, outside the main city square, where the shouting and laughing are like the hum of a distant beehive, always in his hears but never really on his mind anymore. There, in a clearing no longer lighted by fires, where thick vines creep over the sandy ground and up toppled logs, he stumbles — literally — into Torao. With the same elegance that all Minks exhibit and that seems to somehow rub off on their guests, Luffy sidesteps him the way he sidestepped the bonfire mere minutes ago, barely a thought in his mind.
Wherever Torao is going, Luffy's not about to keep him, though it's doubtful that he's got some defined purpose in mind either. It's not a night for defined purposes, though he's always been sort of strange about such things and doesn't seem to enjoy himself at the most enthralling occasions, which Luffy totally doesn't get. Even so, Luffy can sort-of respect all that, knowing how many things Torao always has on his head to worry about — completely needlessly, but that's something they don't see eye to eye on and there's no reason to make a fuss about it. So, without as much as stopping, he catches hold of his arm and plants a brief kiss on Torao's cheek, ready to exchange the Mink greeting, which already comes as easy as breathing to him, and then part again, the way all Minks do.
Well, it turns out Torao's not that accustomed to Mink customs yet, because he tenses up and jerks his arm out of Luffy's grasp with way more force than really necessary, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "What's up with you, Straw Hat?" he snaps, accusatory.
If Luffy has had any doubts about whether that was really Torao they'd all be cleared now, as there's no way he'd mistake that sharp, permanently-displeased voice, though it's not like there was anyone else on the island who carries a ridiculously long black sword with a cross pattern or has nearly such a sour expression most of the time. He's still wearing that black shirt which shows off his tattoos in a way that Luffy kind of, idly, likes — the same way he likes bugs, if he was to say. It's the kind of liking that warrants a careful stare and a delicate hug, though he's learned the hard way that bugs don't usually like even the most delicate hugs. Torao should handle it better, theoretically, but it doesn't seem like he does.
"It's how all the Minks greet. Haven't you noticed?"
"Of course I did, but maybe you haven't noticed that I'm not a Mink, for hell's sake. Let go of me."
Luffy was about to do it anyway, but now he's getting a bit angry. "No," he says. "You're acting rude."
Torao's like some kind of jellyfish, at times — pretty and friend-like, but when Luffy tries to pet it, it swims away or, worse yet, stings him. He doesn't get mad at the jellyfish because they don't really know what they're doing, but he does get mad at Torao now. He'd pet him too, but the stinging gets in the way. If he disliked Luffy, well, that would at least make sense, but Luffy's no idiot to believe that act, so why even put it up in the first place? If Torao let him a bit closer, they'd both like it, he thinks — so why? Or rather — why not?
He sighs, like some sort of martyr. "What's your angle, Straw Hat?"
"You ought to return the greeting, because that's what the Minks do. When in Zou, do as the, uh, Zouians do, or however that went."
To his surprise, that makes Torao cracks a smile. "I didn't expect you'd cite something like that."
Luffy didn't expect it either, but Robin reads him her books out loud sometimes, when the nights are too long and too quiet, the rest of his crew already long asleep. He sits next to her on Sunny's porch, half-dozing with his head in her lap, and listens to her as the shade of the book she's holding shields his face from the candlelight. He doesn't understand a tad of the contents and, most of the time, he's not even trying to follow, but a phrase must have stuck.
"See, maybe I'm smarter than you think?"
"Oh yeah? Then where's it originally from?"
"Does it change anything?"
Torao looks annoyingly victorious. "So you don't know. Not that smart after all, huh?"
"At least I'm not a chicken," Luffy shrugs, knowing it'll get to him. Not that smart, maybe, but not stupid either. "And the Zouians, I mean, Minks do it differently anyway."
He tugs him forward, back into the warm glow of a bonfire that's been left to die out by some careless Mink. An empty pot still hangs over it, the timbers underneath glowing yellow and red. No one pays him and Torao any mind — in the distance, two Minks pass, nuzzle each other and go off in different directions, but they're too far away for the customary "garchu" to be audible.
"Bepo's Mink, you don't have to tell me. Besides, I'm not chickening," he underlines and Luffy knows he's already got him — hook, line and sinker, "it's just repulsively unhygienic. I'd get rabies, if not worse."
"You get rabies from kissing?"
"From animal saliva. I'd wager you qualify. Besides, who's even talking about kissing?"
"Nami called it that way, I think? Her and her new friend from around. Oh, and, platonic kissing, that's what Robin said. What, would you prefer the other kind?"
"Other kind?" Torao half-laughs, condescending again. "Straw Hat, do you even know what the opposite of platonic is?"
"Duh, I'll just ask Robin later. And you'll still be a chicken, by the way."
Sand creaks under their feet, or maybe that's just the dry rustle of Torao's shirt. "You've probably "greeted" a zillion of these animal folk already. Like I said, rabies."
Jellyfish, Luffy thinks again — but less stingy tonight than on other occasions, despite everything. He decides to press on, mostly because he's unaccustomed to not doing what he feels like doing and right now, he feels like, well, he doesn't know what exactly, but certainly not letting the jellyfish get away.
"You're a doctor — can't even cure your own rabies?" he yawns. "Also, is that why you've been avoiding me these past few days?"
He didn't meant to say, not really, but by the way Torao's fingers grab his sword just a bit tighter, Luffy knows it's spot on. "You were busy," he says, and it sounds like he's defending himself. "I was busy too. Someone's gotta take care of any kind of planing for when we set off for Wano and I don't imagine it's going to be you."
They've been following the party's outskirts all that time, Luffy notices, without actually going back into where the light and the sound is. Maybe that's Torao, all darkness and that dreary kind of quiet that Luffy's never liked, but may just warm up to it now?
He stops and grabs him by the wrist, reaching out for his hand all while knowing full well it's that kind of physical contact that throws Torao off the most. "You worry too much."
He won't meet his eyes, more resigned than angry. He acts different when he's angry, more in-your-face and defiant, less of that murky attitude that Luffy can't understand. "You worry too little."
Luffy doesn't let go. Torao sets down his sword with a sigh, but doesn't try to take away his hand that time, even when Luffy moves his own up, brushing his fingers against the forearm and the sleeve of the black shirt. Maybe he likes these tattoos a little more than bugs, actually. Torao had so many occasions to talk himself out of it, Luffy thinks, and he didn't take any. It's just that silly jellyfish attitude between them now, the same that made Torao turn away in Dressrosa, mumbling some excuses about being tired and injured, and maybe lingered there even earlier, back at Punk Hazard. True, Luffy didn't really think that way about him back then — didn't think much at all. Now he's thinking that he'd like to take Torao's other hand too, see that he doesn't turn away, hold onto him the way Torao looks like he'd like, but doesn't want to say so. It gets to Luffy — why not just do he wants?
"It's better than worrying too much," he argues. "Chicken."
"You're acting like a kid. Worse. Have you ever even kissed anyone, Straw Hat?"
That's when Luffy wonders for the first time if Torao's been drinking, to ask questions like that — or maybe he's just being less stuck up.
"Zoro, once? He was drunk though. Nami was teasing him about it, I think. Usopp, but that was a bet," he counts off his fingers. "And Hancock, but that was just weird."
"Mature comment," Torao remarks. "And then you're letting me go, get it?"
I'm not keeping you, Luffy could say. Or, hurry up, for gods' sake, because he doesn't know fully what he's waiting for, but he's surely done with the waiting part. It feels like the right deal, though it's just a Mink greeting, nothing more. They don't make a fuss about it, so why should anyone else?
"Take the damn hat off then," the comment is just a whisper now, like he was scared to disturb some fragile balance of the darkness and the silence. None of these are usually Luffy's thing, especially not the silence part, but he thinks he can bear with it for a moment.
Torao grabs the straw hat's edge and pulls it off, letting it fall on Luffy's back with a soft swish. Then Luffy remembers wondering briefly what's going to happen when neither of them know what they're doing, but he doesn't feel like going to fetch a Mink and ask, so he lets go of Torao's arm and joins his own hands behind his neck because it feels like the right thing to do after all. He can't resist the smile that forces its way onto his face now and he can see Torao frown at it, probably thinking something like "why are you so pleased with yourself, Straw Hat?" Well, he is pleased with himself, to finally have Torao up close, literally at arm's reach. Very much pleased, actually.
It's hard to say who finally pulled whom and which way, but next thing he knows their faces are already touching and he closes his eyes, for once not quite sure what to do. Still, it seems like Torao has a through understanding of Mink customs after all, judging by the way his fingers tangle Luffy's hair, his other arm holding him around the waist, pulling them closer together — who wants to be closer now, Luffy thinks pettily, but it's not the best time to be thinking in general and he's got to agree there's something special about being so physically close, something that wasn't there the previous times Luffy remembers. It's easy to match Torao's pace and he doesn't question whether that's how it's supposed to feel, so simple and strangely gut-wrenching at the same time — it's all easy and not good enough at the same time, so he reaches blindly for the collar of Torao's shirt and grabs that, pulling him downwards until they're practically pressed up against each other, to the point where he thinks he can feel his heartbeat, but that might have been his own just as well.
When they part it feels reluctant, but Luffy gets some strange sort of satisfaction from seeing Torao so flustered, his gaze unfocused, looking literally anywhere but at him. It's not strictly how the Minks did it, but it's a better version anyway, at least as far as Luffy is concerned.
"Feeling any rabies?" he asks, putting his hat back on.
"Screw off, Straw Hat."
If he's gonna sulk, Luffy can let him. It's hard to do it anyway, not when they're still so close and Torao's got nowhere to escape to, with his blush and his angry eyes. Why are you angry? Luffy would like to ask him. Wasn't it fine?
But before he can do so, someone — two someones, even — clear their throats somewhere behind them:
"Uh, captain?"
Luffy might have otherwise been impressed by the versatility with which Torao pulls away from him now — pulls himself together, more like. "The hell do you want?"
Shachi and Penguin are just standing there, identically blank expressions on their faces. "You wanted us to get you around midnight to talk plans with the crew," one says. "But if you're, well, busy, we'll leave you to—"
"Not busy," he cuts them off. "I was just leaving."
Like hell he was. "We were just saying hello," Luffy adds helpfully. "Like the Minks do."
"That's not how the Minks do it," the other sounds like he was choking on a fishbone, but shrinks visibly when he meets Torao's icy look. Why are they ever afraid of him, Luffy can't tell.
"We're going, idiots. And not a word, or I'll tear your tongues out and nail them to the Tang's main mast," he orders. "Go back to your party, Straw Hat. I'll meet your historian tomorrow, since she's the only sensible one on your crew."
Jellyfish. Well, Luffy thinks, whatever. He's keeping that one either way.