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Makino doesn’t think she’ll ever stop being afraid of storms. Or rather- not a storm in and of itself, but of the potential danger it bears, especially out on the open sea. And not even the danger posed to her, really; she is perfectly capable of swimming, of keeping her head above water long enough to reach a boat, or dry land.
The three boys she’s become responsible for have no such ability anymore.
That first awful storm when they fled Foosha, Makino only truly needed to cling to Luffy, to keep him close as waves swamped their little rowboat, Ace and Sabo able to hold on for themselves. And while she couldn’t deny the benefit afterward, of finding a Devil Fruit on the island where they washed up, which inexplicably split its power between the older boys and allowed them a means of escape... Two bites, and the threat seawater posed to their meager family instantly tripled.
And now, an even stronger storm is threatening to capsize their current vessel.
The little ship isn’t that much larger than their wrecked rowboat, but at least it has a mast, a sail, and a tiny cabin. Despite their protests, when the wind picked up and the waves rose alarmingly high, Makino shuffled her boys into said cabin and shut the door, ordering them to bar it in place on the inside. Ace tried to insist they could still help, and Luffy demanded Makino come with them, but Sabo, thankfully, obeyed. The muffled thunk of the bar slotting into place eased some of the fear in Makino’s heart, despite how three frustrated and worried faces pressed against the round glass window, any and all of them ready to leap back outside in a heartbeat if they thought it necessary.
She does her best to avoid such an outcome.
A few remembered lessons and more recent practical experience has her reducing how much of their sail is allowed to hang free, to lessen the strain of the wind’s pull upon their mast. The thick piece of wood and its single spar still bend alarmingly, but not so much Makino thinks they’re in danger of breaking. Luck remains on their side, the wind and waves moving together rather than at odds; so long as she can hold the helm steady and keep them pointed in the same direction the water wants to go, it’s that much less likely their little ship will be caught crosswise and knocked over.
So long as Makino can hold steady.
Which becomes much less likely, when a bright bolt of lightning in the overhead sky perfectly illuminates the sea ahead - and the much larger ship heading straight for them.
Makino’s heart leaps into her throat. She doesn’t yank on the wheel, she can’t, turning it too far too fast would surely cause their already struggling boat to capsize. But she does angle it further to the left, hoping, praying, the slight change of course will be enough to avoid the oncoming craft.
For a few moments, straining her eyes through the pounding rain, Makino thinks it’s worked. The storm began in the afternoon, and enough time has surely passed by now for the sun to set and the world to go dark, but she can still faintly make out a shape against the sea and clouds as it slides away to one side.
But then.
Light flares.
Lanterns spring to life along multiple railings, and behind them she can see people rushing across the decks. There's too much sound from the howling wind and crashing waves to hear any shouting that might be going on, but Makino knows, she knows they’ve been spotted, and whether the unknown ship belongs to pirates or marines, she can’t let them get her boys.
So. Danger aside, she turns the wheel further to the left, as far as she dares, and even that might prove too much as more water surges over her feet. There’s a muted shout from the cabin; another crack of lightning and an answering boom of thunder, but Makino doesn’t have a chance to glance over for a better look at the ship they’re about to pass.
The wheel shudders in her hands, struggling against the current pressing against their rudder. Overhead, the sail strains, canvas pulled ever more taut, ropes and wood beams bending, stretching to their limit-
-and past it.
Another crack rings out, a fracture splitting the mast. Makino gets maybe half a moment to stare in horror before the small ship lurches sideways, her grip on the helm faltering, just as her feet slip on the soaked planks. Aware that disaster is about to crash down, and equally aware there isn’t a single damned thing she can do to avert it, Makino tries to grab for the nearest railing, to keep herself from being swept away-
Boys-
I’m sorry-
Light flares again.
Not the yellow glow of lanterns, though, nor the blinding white of lightning; something red flickers in the air, as an almost tangible weight wraps around Makino. Then something does wrap around her, as a person slams onto their ship: an arm, strong with corded muscle, looping around her waist and holding firm before she can fall overboard. More water rushes past, the heaving waves unceasing, but for a dizzying moment Makino feels inexplicably safe-
“Lovely day for a swim,” a familiar voice shouts above the howling gale, “But I don’t think you’re dressed for it!”
“Shanks,” Makino breathes out, far too softly to be heard, but by the gentle squeeze from his hand she thinks maybe he picks up her relief regardless.
By the time the Red Force loops close enough for ropes to be tossed down and secured around their bow and stern, Luffy has begun to shout with excitement inside the cabin. Makino can’t make out his exact words, but the tone is undeniable, and makes Shanks laugh when he notices.
Soon enough, the man ushers Makino and all three of her boys onto his ship, various crew members whooping and calling out, every single one of them grinning despite the storm that still rages. Benn holds open a door; Yasopp fetches an armful of towels; Lucky Roo delivers an enormous pot of steaming soup. Makino tries to thank them all, repeatedly, only to be waved off with warm smiles, and various iterations of ‘just glad to see you’re alright’.
“I told you,” Luffy happily crows, after he’s downed two servings of soup and is waiting for a refill. “I told you guys Shanks and his crew are the best!”
Sabo makes an agreeable noise, spoon moving rapidly between his bowl and mouth. Ace leans closer to bump shoulders with their little brother, somehow not spilling any soup from the bowl he’s holding up to his face to drink from directly. Only a few minutes of exposure to the rain left them all wet, but nothing a bit of vigorous drying couldn’t deal with. Makino, though, sits bundled up in the rest of the towels, soaked through to the bone and still shivering.
“Got a couple of the guys scrounging for clothes that won’t completely swamp you,” Shanks murmurs, sitting close, his arm still around her waist. It’s a looser grasp than before, but somehow just as reassuring.
And yet, at the same time, baffling, simply by its mere presence.
When she finishes her bowl, Makino sets down the spoon and takes a deep breath. “This isn’t the Grandline.”
Humming, Shanks keeps watching her boys as they scuffle for extra servings with a small smile, and keeps his tone equally quiet to avoid drawing attention. “True. But when we first saw the Wanted poster for ‘Sea-Glass Makino’, the whole crew agreed we should double-back.”
Sweethearts, the lot of them, nevermind their chosen profession. “I keep thinking I’d like that name, if it had been given to me in any other context.”
The arm around her waist briefly tightens, before relaxing again. “I’m going to ask, but it can wait until morning.” Makino just nods, entirely willing to go along with that. She’d rather share the story of what happened in daylight anyway, when the memory of grasping hands and leaping flames won’t hold quite so much weight.
A second pot of soup is required to sate her three boys, but eventually they eat their fill, and then of all places Shanks escorts their little family to his personal cabin. “I’ll be down in the crew quarters,” he says, grinning as Luffy bounces around the room, his brothers seamlessly catching the younger boy before he can crash into and break anything. “Hope you don’t mind sharing a bed with these hooligans.”
Makino doesn’t mind at all. She’s grown quite used to falling asleep with three small bodies cuddled up close in recent weeks, after all. Grateful for the generous offer of privacy, she stretches up onto her tiptoes and gives their host a quick kiss on the cheek. Seeing the startled blush creep across his face does a better job of warming her up inside than the towels and soup and dry clothes combined. “Thank you, Shanks.”
In a turnabout move, he catches her hand, and likewise presses his lips to the back of her knuckles. “Sleep well, Makino. See you in the morning.”
For the first time since her bar burned and the world flung itself upside down, she does, in fact, sleep well, the boys sprawling with loose-limbed relief rather than huddling close, and nightmares far away from all four of their minds.