Chapter Text
Perhaps, this must be the most awkward ride in Robin’s entire life.
The car hummed aggressively down the busy night street of Grand Line City. Growing up in this place, Robin has learned to memorize every corner and turn, vandalism on unsuspecting buildings, and even the level of glow emitted by the street lights. Eight years later, she finds herself face to face with the same familiar surroundings, and yet unfamiliar at the same time. There had been far more turns than what she remembers, new provocative paintings to layer on the illegal art from the past, and overworked street lights to the point of irregular flickering.
Arms crossed over her chest, she pointedly tries to ignore the thick tension inside the car. She continues watching the scenery at her left, as if the passing structures were the most interesting sight in the world, similar to her archaeological breakthroughs. On the wheel, the driver does the same to the road ahead. At every traffic stop, his fingers drum the console impatiently. His jaw is set tight, obviously affected by the atmosphere.
At the very least, the car radio was turned on, set to a popular music channel. Grateful that for the majority of the time, she didn’t have to suffer more than necessary in the awkward silence with her most unwilling conversation partner (although, to call him a conversation partner is a mile stretch). At most, they spoke less than a few words once the ride started, and let the highest volume of the radio fill in for the rest of the torturous drive.
Thankful that the radio continues to save her from the grievous silence, internally, she starts praising whoever invented such a device just to distract herself — but that was until a certain song started playing.
I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right.
Robin likes Taylor Swift on most days, this is definitely not one of those. She’s almost tempted to push open the still moving car just to get it over with.
She peeks a glance at the driver – with all his tan and scowl (pity, he had such a sweet smile) – and finds him looking back at her as well. Startled, both of them return their gaze almost immediately to where they were set earlier, with Robin outside the window and the man back to the front road.
Robin can’t help but notice the driver repeatedly glancing at the navigation screen of his phone. Perhaps, he too, cannot wait for the ride to be over. Understandable, she thinks. She too has been sneaking subtly at the ETA every now and then.
Surprisingly, he breaks the silence. “Would you mind if I pass by a store on the way?” He asks, eyes completely focused on the road, but his hands grip the steering wheel a little too tight to seem unbothered. Stunned to hear his voice again, Robin merely lets out a go ahead.
In the quieter part of the city, the car stops in front of a rundown-looking toy store.
Wedged between a laundromat and a mini grocery, the faded storefront seems almost sad and abandoned. If not for the lights, Robin almost assumed it to be closed. The hand-painted sign on the door, with some of the paint peeled off, reads The Great God’s Toys. Try as she might, she can’t seem to recall this particular shop.
Looking through the dusty window, various toys, action figures and trinkets of different sizes are displayed. Some seem to be operated mechanically – albeit a little weird looking that Robin almost thinks they’re cute. While she can see that the toys may not be attractive enough for the store to accommodate more than ten customers a day, they sure have personality. Especially, if looking like ‘they have given up on the world’ can be considered as such.
The driver honks twice and rolls his window down slightly. For a moment, Robin is confused about what her seat partner, who is very much an adult, can possibly need from this sort of place. The bell by the front door rings, signaling someone’s exit. No more than a second later, a familiar long-nosed man appears from the door of the store carrying some heavy looking packages in his arms. Robin’s eyes widen, she hasn’t seen him in eight years. Usopp.
“Hey man, thanks for doing this again.”
Despite struggling, the long nosed man in his outdated jumper grins brightly at the person beside her.
“Mm. Just place it on the trunk. I’ll deliver it tomorrow.”
Opening the trunk, Usopp places the boxes swiftly. Wiping the sweat on his forehead, he pulls a thumbs up to which the driver only nods at. Before she left, the two barely interacted – with the latter dedicatedly avoiding the gloomy-looking boy with humor as dark and threatening as hers. Now, the few years seem to have acquainted them quite well, that her heart clenches longingly at what else she has missed.
The man starts the engine, prepared to drive away immediately. Suddenly, Usopp materializes beside his window.
In a hushed voice, as if he’s sharing the most scandalous message, leans closer to him, “Did you know? Robin’s coming back.”
The driver, Trafalgar Law, deadpans at him – and rolls down the window fully.
Usopp’s eyes widen, seeing Robin in the passenger seat.
“Robin?!”
Robin, still surprised upon seeing her high school friend, can only manage to smile awkwardly. She hasn’t told anyone of her return tonight, opting to have a day for herself to mentally prepare for difficult confrontations such as this one. Before she left for abroad, the simple text in the group chat was all she could manage before deactivating all her accounts.
“Hey…” She trails out.
Guilt crept and thrummed loudly in her veins.
She’s imagined multiple scenarios and all the reasons she can put out once they meet again, but she discovers none of the words seem to appear in her mind at the moment. She wants to say something else, maybe an apology, but she also knows there are more appropriate places than from inside a car with another person (whose relationship with her is another difficult conversation entirely).
Maybe Law sensed her awkwardness, or he didn’t want to explain anything to Usopp, or he just really really wants to get the ride over with – whichever it is, Robin doesn’t have the time to contemplate as he drives away after a quick goodbye to Usopp. Usopp, stunned and still confused, has no other choice but to watch the disappearing figure of the car from where he’s standing.
They arrive at her drop off soon enough, (not soon enough, in Robin’s opinion) a decent midsized hotel near the main metro station. Uttering a soft thank you, she opens the car door and takes her luggage out.
His cold voice stops her track. “You’re staying here?”
She confirms. “Yes, just for a few weeks.”
He simply nods, still avoiding her eyes.
Robin, unable to help herself from attempting to end things on a better note, jokes: “Perhaps, I’ve disappeared long enough I’d need a city tour, doctor.”
This time, Law truly looks at her.
At that moment, she almost falters.
Her chest tightens painfully. Feelings she had carefully kept hidden, threatens to spill and make itself bare and known in front of the man. She had known him at his worst – she used to know him at his depth. Everything around them ceases to exist, and the years she tried so hard to put behind her claw at her heart, telling her things she was desperately running away from.
A few beats later, Law merely shrugs. “I didn’t become one.”
Robin frowns, unable to comprehend what he means. He starts the engine and without a glance, drives away.
Unbeknown to him, Robin continues to watch the car as it drives away from her view. Desperately, she thinks, Can you please look back at me? If you do then I'll...
But Law cannot hear her, nor her internal plea.
The app on Law's phone pings, signaling a successful passenger drop-off. He refuses to glance at the mirror even for a second, afraid that this time, he may not be able to tear his gaze away. Another notification pops out. Curious, his gaze drifts to his phone.
She even gave him five stars. How thoughtful.
He tries not to think how in the past decade, they had turned from strangers, to loving each other fiercely, and eventually hating each other’s memory – the end. Law scoffs, he will not relapse on a random Tuesday.
Deciding to retire for the night, he passes by their old high school building. Its brick walls remain proud and sturdy. The banyan tree by the courtyard stands just as it always did, just a bit taller now. The old security house doesn't seem so old anymore, newly painted and hence uncharacteristically bright. In contrast, the gate looks one storm away from toppling over. All is still there and yet not. He remembers some saying from a book he read a long time ago. ‘The scenery stays the same, but the people are no more.’
Bitterly, his mind goes back to the figure on his left some moment ago.
The eyes that he was used to seeing only in his dreams for the past years, had stared back at him today.