Work Text:
The island was… excessive. Even from the shore, it was obvious. Grand structures, towering and ornate, surrounded by warriors who carried themselves with unwavering confidence. It wasn’t unfamiliar—you’d seen powerful people before—but this felt different. Sharper. Prouder. “…So, this is where Hancock lives?” you murmured. “Yeah!” Luffy answered easily, already halfway ahead of you. “She’s strong!”
“That is… not what I was commenting on,” you said dryly, though you followed anyway. Behind you, Robin walked at a quieter pace. Observing, as always. You didn’t notice how her gaze lingered. You did notice Hancock. It was hard not to. She stood tall, composed, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her without effort. And currently— She was staring at you. Not passively. Not idly. Directly. “…Did I do something?” you muttered under your breath. Luffy waved enthusiastically. “Hancock!”
Her entire demeanor shifted instantly. “Luffy!” Soft. Warm. Completely different. You blinked. “…Huh.” Then her eyes slid back to you. And the warmth vanished. Ah. So that’s how this was going to be. It didn’t take long for things to go wrong. You had been standing beside Luffy, half-listening as he spoke, when he reached out—grabbing your wrist without thinking, pulling you closer as he excitedly explained something. It was casual. Normal. Harmless. To you. To him.
Not to Hancock. The shift was immediate. The air grew heavier—sharp, suffocating. “…Remove your hand,” Hancock said. Her voice was calm. Too calm. You glanced up. “…Excuse me?” Her gaze locked onto you, cold and cutting. “Step away from him.” Luffy blinked. “Huh? Why?” You gently pulled your wrist free from his grip, more out of instinct than anything else. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“There has not.” The words snapped through the air. For a moment, everything stilled. Then— Hancock moved. Fast. Too fast. You barely registered it—just the sudden shift, the intent behind it—before something else moved first. A hand caught your arm, pulling you back—firm, controlled. Another bloomed in front of you, intercepting Hancock’s strike before it could land. You stumbled slightly, caught by a familiar steadiness. Robin.
She stepped in front of you without hesitation, her posture calm, composed—like always. But there was something different in the set of her shoulders. Protective. “…I would advise against that,” she said softly. Hancock’s eyes narrowed. “And you are?” Robin smiled. Not warm or unkind. Just enough. “A friend.”
The word settled between you. Behind her, your pulse hadn’t quite slowed. “…Robin,” you started, quieter than you meant to. She didn’t look back. “Stay behind me,” she said gently. It wasn’t a command. But you listened anyway.
It took longer than it should have to smooth things over. Mostly because Luffy did not understand the problem. At all. “I like both of them!” he insisted at one point, which only made things worse. Eventually—somehow—it settled. Hancock calmed, though her gaze lingered on you with clear distrust. You kept your distance after that. Not out of fear. Just… caution. And maybe a little confusion.
By the time you returned to the ship, the tension had faded—mostly. The crew slipped back into their usual rhythm, voices overlapping, movement constant, everything alive again. You didn’t join them. Instead, you leaned lightly against the railing, staring out at the water. “…You handled that well.” Robin’s voice came quietly from beside you. You glanced at her. “…Did I?” She tilted her head slightly. “You didn’t escalate the situation.” You huffed a small laugh. “I didn’t have time to.” There was a pause. “…Thank you,” you added, softer. “For stepping in.”
Robin regarded you for a moment. “It was nothing.” You shook your head. “It wasn’t.” Your fingers curled slightly against the railing. “You didn’t hesitate.” “…No,” she said simply. Silence settled between you—comfortable, but not empty. Your gaze drifted back to the horizon. “…She thought I was trying to take him from her,” you said after a moment. Robin hummed softly. “That did seem to be the case.” You hesitated. “…I wasn’t,” you added.
“I am aware.”
You glanced at her again. “…You are?” Robin’s expression softened, just slightly. “Yes.” That should have been enough. It wasn’t. You exhaled slowly. “…I don’t see him like that,” you admitted. “I mean—I love him, obviously, but it’s not…” You trailed off, searching for the right words. “Not romantic,” Robin supplied. “Yeah.” You nodded. “He’s—” You huffed quietly. “He’s like family. Like a brother, if anything.” Robin didn’t respond right away. You weren’t sure why your chest felt tighter saying it out loud.
“…There is someone else,” you added, before you could stop yourself. That got her attention. Subtle. But there. “…Oh?” You swallowed. This wasn’t how you planned to say it. Or if you planned to say it at all. Your fingers tightened slightly against the railing. “…It’s you,” you said quietly.
The words hung there—fragile, exposed. Honest. For a moment, Robin was completely still. Then— “…I see,” she said softly. Your heart dropped a little at how calm she sounded. You let out a small breath, something between a laugh and resignation. “Yeah. That’s—” You shook your head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was important to clarify after…everything.” You pushed off the railing slightly. “I’ll, uh—give you space—”
A hand caught your wrist. Gentle- But firm enough to stop you. You stilled. “…You are quite straightforward,” Robin said. You glanced back at her. “…Not usually.” Her lips curved faintly. “I don’t mind.” Your breath caught. Robin stepped closer—not invading, not overwhelming—just enough that her presence felt intentional. “Your feelings aren’t unwelcome,” she added quietly. Your chest tightened again—but not in the same way as before. “…They’re not?”
“No.” Her thumb brushed lightly against your wrist—subtle, grounding. “I find them… endearing.” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “…That’s a relief.” Robin’s smile softened, just slightly. “Though,” she added, voice still calm, “I would prefer not to be attacked again because of a misunderstanding.” You laughed—quiet, but real. “Yeah. That’d be nice.” She didn’t let go of your wrist. And you didn’t pull away.
The ocean stretched endlessly ahead, the ship steady beneath your feet, the chaos of earlier fading into something distant. For now—This was enough.