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Trafalgar D. Water Law disliked kids, whether they were his age – twelve – or not. He'd just lost his taste for being around anyone after his little sister and parents died and he was placed into the foster system. So when, to his irritation, a little brat who couldn't have been older than six climbed up next to him on a park bench he'd been reading on, he was less than thrilled. Additionally, the pest wouldn't stop running his mouth once he began to speak.
“Look,” Law sighed (interrupting the boy's absolutely “riveting” recount of his experience eating food made by his friend, Sanji, who was apparently from a place where the people only spoke French), “as interesting as that is, we don't know each other. Do you often annoy complete strangers?”
The child didn't seem offended in the least. “Shishishi!” What an odd laugh, Law thought. “I am Monkey D. Luffy! I'm five years old!” the short vexation announced proudly, ignoring or not registering his reluctant company's question. Instead, he gazed up at the tan orphan, obviously expecting an introduction in return.
It took but a moment for Law to understand that he wasn't getting rid of Luffy, and he begged for strength from any deity willing to take pity on his wretched soul.
“My name is Trafalgar Law,” he finally mumbled, returning to his book, hoping the kid would understand that he didn't want to converse with him anymore.
Naturally, his hopes were dashed as Luffy attempted to pronounce his name.
“Trafle...Tra-guy... Torao...” His eyes practically lit up as he twisted to face Law. “Torao!” he cheered, as if accomplishing some great feat.
“Just call me Law.”
That drew out another gleeful, and still strange, laugh that was abruptly cut off. After a beat of silence, Law couldn't stop himself from glancing up to see if the younger male had gotten bored and left. Instead, he found the other staring towards his book.
Or not, the teenager corrected, looking down and seeing his sweatshirt's sleeves had risen to reveal new scabs and white scars on his wrists. He didn't allow Luffy to get a very long of a look before he covered them again. Silence reigned for a few minutes. (It was uncomfortable enough to make Law want to break it himself.)
“Why do you have scars?” Luffy finally asked, sounding more serious than any small child Law had ever met.
Law pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time; he had just enough time to get back to his newest foster parent's house before their ridiculous curfew. “I've been fighting,” he replied as he closed his book and stood.
“Who against?”
The older boy couldn't help but smile. Luffy sounded so furious – incensed, even, as if Law was his long-time friend and not some anti-social stranger on a random bench in some park. And though he wasn't obligated to answer any of the questions directed towards him, he allowed the answer to be spoken before he walked away.
“Myself.”