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Sometimes, little Luffy from the Monkey family gets a hug. The day he moved from the naval base to Windmill Village, Garp pulled him close. When Luffy was tossed into the sea and shivering cold, it was Shanks who held him tight.
The first time they met, Monkey D. Luffy didn't really like the Red-Haired Pirate much. The man's fault lay in that word "pirate" – in Windmill Village, everything he did was shadowed by a tiny persistent boy. When he bought liquor, Luffy ambushed him from behind an oak barrel. When he finished drinking and went to the alley to relieve himself, Luffy squatted by the wall, chin in hand, staring, until his own straw sandals became a hygiene crisis and he jumped up in a panic.
"Hey kid, you've been at it all morning. Take a break, won't you?" Shanks let go, his palm descending, neither light nor heavy, resting on Luffy's soft black mop and rubbing back and forth. "Waaa! That's filthy! You rotten pirate, don't wipe your hands on my hair!" Luffy yelped as he dodged, fuming as he clutched his head and dashed back to Party's Bar.
"Don't be mad. Hey, wait up!" Shanks grinned lazily as he tightened his red cloth belt, squinting at Luffy's retreating figure in the blinding noon light. He couldn't help but marvel, "Looks like him, but not really. Kids grow up so fast. Can't underestimate the next generation's resolve... Monkey D. Luffy, hasn't even become a marine like old Garp the Iron Fist, but he's already chasing pirates around."
Luffy was six years old, with dark chocolate hair , black eyes, a round chubby face, and stood about as tall as fifteen stacked apples. His guard was always up. He saw right through their impure intentions, tailing them, stalking them, giving Shanks no chance to scout the mountain path. He didn't even let them eat in peace. "I'm not freeloading! I'll pay with treasure... I... I didn't bring any today, but I'll have tons and tons of treasure someday!" Luffy sat to Shanks's left, devouring a bowl of treasure rice, shooting the man sideways glances. Then, unintentionally bringing up the future, he immediately dropped his guard and giggled.
They ate side by side, heads at different heights, but their elbows drew close. Too close. They hadn't been eating long before Luffy's little arm kept bumping against Shanks's left elbow. Shoveling rice into his mouth, cheeks packed with food, Luffy poked Shanks's wheat-colored elbow joint with a fingertip, chewing on meat as he asked, "Hey, mister! You're so weird. There's no one on your other side, so why do you keep crowding into me?"
"Oh? You didn't know? It's called being left-handed. There are plenty of lefties in the West Blue." Shanks grinned and laughed out loud, proudly spinning a table knife with just the three fingers of his left hand. The silver blade whirled like a crazed windmill in Shanks's hand, sending a cool breeze across Luffy's face. Luffy's mouth fell open, his eyes wide, his clear black pupils filled only with curiosity. As if he'd discovered a massive secret, Luffy grabbed Shanks's left hand with both hands and examined it thoroughly. He studied it closely, then tilted his head and murmured, "Your left arm comes from the West Blue? That really is rare."
Unlike his grandpa, whose fists always hammered down on his crown, the red-haired man's left hand was soft on the outside and hard within. His fingers were long and slender, the red hairs on the back curled, and the bases of his fingers and palm were covered in thick, meaty calluses. Touching carefully, the man didn't have the knobby knuckles that made his grandpa so scratchy, but his wrist was tough and strong, his arm rock-solid and extraordinarily sturdy. Luffy felt him all over, inside and out, and grudgingly admitted, "Okay, mister, you seem pretty strong after all."
Once Luffy had satisfied his curiosity, he pressed his little hand against Shanks's, spreading his fingers, the soft, round tips just reaching the man's finger gaps. Shanks fought back a ticklish laugh, let out a snort, and cheerfully picked up the thread: "Of course! And it's not just my arm. The rest of me came from the West Blue too. Oops, there's an idiot – stupid Luffy! Hahaha!"
Party's Bar erupted in chaos, the pirates' exaggerated laughter booming through the place. Luffy didn't understand what it meant to be touched up, teased, or have a young lecher take advantage of a seasoned old thing. The atmosphere felt strange. Luffy bared his teeth and glared, trying his best to look fierce, shouting at Shanks, who was grinning like a ringleader: "Stop laughing at me! Shut your stinky mouth! Ugh, you rotten pirate, I was complimenting you! You... behave yourself, listen to me!"
He quickly ran out of things to say, throwing the harsh words his grandpa used on him back at Shanks. The words were fine, but the roles were wrong. Strangely enough, a little kid scolding a grown man – Shanks laughed so hard his stomach hurt.
"Hmph! So rude! Why is everyone laughing? I'm so mad!" He turned his back on Shanks, huffing as he went back to his gluttonous feast.
"Alright, Luffy, relax. Let me buy you a drink." A large hand suddenly caught hold of the boy's narrow shoulder. Shanks bent down, leaning in, sliding his half-full wooden cup toward Luffy. Yasopp yelled, "Captain! Don't be an idiot. Kids can't drink rum like water!" Having a son of his own, he knew the significance of a child's first sip of alcohol. As a father of several years, he set aside his card game to remind his captain.
"Really? You'd share with me? Thanks, Captain! You're a pirate, you're unhygienic and rude, but you're actually a good guy, aren't you?" Little Luffy thanked him joyfully, leaned against the red-haired straw-hatted man, tilted his head back, and gulped down the pale amber beverage known as "Don't You Ever Give This to My Grandson."
Praise be to free will – Luffy's biological father lost his right to that first sip, forever deprived of the precious memory of his child's first taste of alcohol. The grown-up juice had a honeyed aroma, slightly sweet on the tongue, but turned sharp and pungent when swallowed. Luffy shuddered, spat half of it back, sheepishly set down the cup, wrinkled his nose, and pushed the foul-tasting adult drink back to the man.
He stuck out his tongue, gagging repeatedly, and pounded on the pirate's arm as he muttered, "Yucks! Tastes funny, like rotten fruit. Thanks, Captain, but you drink it yourself."
"Hey, that's hurtful. You've been following me all morning, and you still don't know my name?" Shanks pushed Luffy's hair aside, pinched the boy's plump, soft ear, and said to him very seriously, "I'm not your 'Captain.' I'm Shanks. Professional pirate – Red-Haired Shanks. Got that memorized now?"
Luffy rolled his eyes upward, his little brain working hard to decipher the rapid-fire slang spouting from the red-haired man, and fired off questions: "What does that mean? That's a weird name. Shanks what? Are there a lot of people named Shanks out there? What if I yell 'Shanks' and every red-haired pirate out there looks over here?"
"Don't worry. That's not a family name. Just Shanks…I'm just Shanks." He raised an eyebrow, gave a wry, helpless smile, tipped up his straw hat, speared the biggest steak on his own plate, and held it to Luffy's mouth.
Then, out of the blue, he asked, "So, besides chasing me around, don't you have anything of your own to do?"
"Wow! You're giving me meat too? Ah – Shanksuu, don't underestimate me! I'm usually super busy: finding new swords, collecting gems, and going into the mountains to pick those funny mushrooms..." Luffy giggled, clutching his cheeks as he chewed and swallowed, openly listing his daily schedule, his mouth gaping wide at the red-haired man.
"So take me into the mountains, and by nightfall, I'll get you the most unbeatable four-seas feast in the world. Deal?"
He stared at Luffy, tipped his cup back, and downed it in one go.
There really were treasures on the southeast slope of Mt. Colubo. Luffy generously gifted Shanks a branched stick he'd found and picked up several sparkling rainbow stag beetle wing cases along the way. He led Shanks in circles, only finding the eerie poisonous mushroom patch after asking a bird for directions. So this was the "sword," the "treasure," and the so-called "funny mushrooms." The trip wasn't a waste for Shanks. As he helped Luffy pull up the mushrooms, he deftly tucked a small blank piece of paper under a rock.
"Ah... ah... slow down, Shanks... I... I wanna sit for a while." Halfway back, Luffy suddenly crouched down, nearly yanking off Shanks's dark brown riveted pants. Right – Luffy was a kid. For every step Shanks took, Luffy had to take three. It was easy going up the mountain but hard coming down; Luffy had been exhausted for a while. Shanks scratched his sideburn, bent down, and hoisted Luffy up like a wild boar.
He clearly couldn't handle children. Luffy, sitting on his forearm, kept screaming... pulling his collar didn't work, grabbing his arm didn't work. He'd exhausted all of Mr. Rayleigh's child-carrying techniques, and Luffy was still screeching for help in his arms.
"Luffy! Stop! Stop fighting it. I can carry you down faster. Don't you want to get back and eat?" he reasoned, shifting his grip to support the child's bottom and shoulders, inadvertently giving Luffy a solid koala hug.
"Oh... I'll eat. But I don't taste good. Don't eat me, please! " Luffy secretly wiped away tears.
"I... don't eat people. Besides, you don't have much meat on you, do you?" Shanks's rigid, scarred side tightened. He softened his touch, not wanting to guess what kind of experience could have made a little boy allergic to hugs.
So this was a hug. Luffy had heard of them, seen them, but never truly experienced one. Hugs were common; other children in the village were always being held by adults. Probably each kid was entitled to only a few specific adults. No other adult ever hugged Luffy. Even his grandpa only carried him down the mountain when he was asleep. Now, finally, the soles of his feet felt better. "Hug" didn't have to hurt. Shanks's two large hands held him steady, with no sign of suddenly reaching for his vital spots.
Yes, two large hands. Empty-handed... Where was his bag of funny mushrooms?!
Luffy was furious. There were serious consequences. Shanks promised that another day, he'd definitely go back into the mountains to get Luffy a new bag of mushrooms. Tonight, he'd take Luffy onto the ship first for that promised four-seas feast: North Blue calamari fins, West Blue rose ham flowers, South Blue smooth coconut milk jelly, and Windmill Village's own specialty grilled eel... After the banquet, Shanks barely managed to soothe Luffy, calming the child from a squeaky, squawking rubber duckling into a full, sleepy little snoozer.
"There are some people who don't get sleepy during the day and don't sleep at night."
"That's so cool! They get to play half a day longer than people who need sleep, huh?"
The hammock swayed. Shanks let out a creaky laugh and continued, "The coldest place in the world is the South Pole. The waters of the four seas flow together under the Red Line. Fish don't exist – they don't close their eyes to sleep. Not like you. Right now, you need to close your eyes and get some good rest. So, goodnight, little anchor. Go have sweet dreams." The fragmented adventure story flowed on. Shanks yawned and buried his head.
Luffy's face had a faint scent of rice tea. Shanks hugged him tightly, chin resting on the child's head, and for no reason, he thought of the sun, green grass, and the paws of little puppies. Yes. Black watery eyes. Monkey D. Luffy was a beautiful little puppy. Maybe he would love playing fetch. When Luffy woke up, Shanks would have to secretly bet with his old crewmates to try it out.
That night there were no stars. Shanks, holding Luffy's warm, dry little body, fell into a rare deep sleep. The ship was silent. The crew had long since gone into the mountains with their vivre card fragments, shovelful after shovelful, breaking the earth and digging holes everywhere.
By dawn, Beckman pushed open the captain's quarters door, empty-handed, only to find his captain alone, sprawled diagonally in the hammock box, snoring.
"Captain, we went for it," Beckman knocked on the wooden wall panel, thinking as he spoke. "Change of plans. Wake up. There's an issue with our route."
Shanks rubbed his eyes and sat up. His arms were empty. He immediately regained his senses and opened his eyes. "Beck? Tell me. No luck?"
"That's right. We came too early. The earliest chance will be in a few months..." The first mate answered carefully, reporting every detail faithfully.
Windmill Village shifted from a stopover to a layover. The pirates' water barrels, just brought back to the ship, were moved ashore again. The lively luncheon banquets returned to Party's Bar. Luffy counted the pirates on his fingers and asked, "Shanks? Why haven't you guys left yet? That's weird. No one stays at Windmill Village's dock this long." Today, he'd smartly sat on Shanks's right, escaping the left elbow assault, but not Shanks's left foot propped on his right leg.
"Is that so? Is that why you ran off early?" Shanks patted Luffy's lower back, lowered his head, and promised, "Don't you worry. I'm not a kidnapper. I wouldn't take a snot-nosed brat shorter than a rum barrel out to sea." He jiggled his leg, his leather sandal swaying, smudging dirt onto the child's light blue seagull-print t-shirt.
"Ow! What are you doing?! Watch it! Don't touch me! Ah, ow!" Luffy's forehead flushed red with frustration, his voice cracking in anger as he flailed his short arms and legs at Shanks.
"Sorry! Hey, my bad, I'm wrong, stop! Don't scream like that! I'm not touching you." Shanks, terrified by Luffy's "wailing" cries, raised both hands in surrender, apologizing profusely without knowing exactly what he'd done wrong.
Seeing Luffy about to topple backward, he grabbed the boy's waist, lifted him, and set him on the table. Now they were finally eye to eye. Shanks saw the round pupils beneath Luffy's long lashes and also saw the big dirty footprint on the child's shirt. "Got it dirty, huh? Let me brush it off. There, all better. Stop yelling..." He lifted Luffy's shirt to pat off the dust, managing to shake the soil off but powerless to erase the layers of bruises on Luffy's body.
"I fell myself. They don't hurt anymore." Luffy insisted on this explanation. Oh, fell yourself, did you? Shanks went along with it. He covered up Luffy's secret, thereafter handling him gently, leaving some bruise cream at the child's house, and often letting Luffy ride on his shoulders.
Seven days later, at dawn, Luffy watched the pirates set sail. He stared only at Shanks, cheering and waving his arms until the great ship vanished completely beyond the horizon, then wandered home. The village was unusually quiet that day. Luffy woke alone at dusk, rubbing his wet eyes, instinctively calling out for a familiar adult.
Sweet dream vanished, and no one was there for him. Luffy went into the mountains every few days to look for funny mushrooms. In the days that followed, life went on as usual, except he never ran into the nasty mountain bandits on the southeast slope again, and he'd picked up a new hobby: watching the sea.
On this spring island, the seasons were eternally mild. The pirates visited Windmill Village frequently, following the tides. Each time, they were warmly welcomed by the clean, adorable Luffy, and they were generous in taking turns showering the child with affection. "You're losing your favor! Your status is threatened!" Yasopp often teased Shanks. Everyone could see it: Monstar was always whispering with Luffy; Lucky Roux and Hongo were vying to feed him; even the ever-reliable Beckman loved to hold Luffy on his lap and teach him to count... Now that the pirates had all become cool big brothers, Shanks was no longer the number one person in Luffy's heart.
Compared to Shanks, who could be a bit rough, Luffy now had a surrogate father who understood a little boy's heart better. "That's amazing! A real gun! So cool! Teach me to shoot, Yasopp!" Luffy begged. He was sitting on Yasopp's knee, touching the gun, listening to the sniper explain the beautiful interplay between bullet, barrel, and rifling.
Even perched on Yasopp's lap, his short body barely reached the man's chin. After a year, Luffy was still that same portable size. Truth be told, his own pirates were all touchy-feely. How was it that anyone could touch Luffy now? Pull his little hand? No problem. Pat his head or rub his soft belly? Be their guest.
They were free, as pirates. Lucky Roux hand-fed Luffy a bacon-wrapped liqueur chocolate. Hongo, using the pretext of measuring his height, lifted Luffy onto the bar counter. Beckman took the opportunity to pat Luffy's plump little rear... Alright, stop. Shanks called a halt to his crewmates. He personally carried Luffy away, pretending not to notice Luffy repeatedly stealing meat from his own plate.
Yasopp clinked glasses with Lime, gazing at Luffy. He sighed, "Ah, kids grow up so fast. My boy probably doesn't even remember me anymore!"
Shanks heard him loud and clear. So, after all of this was over, who would Luffy remember? Life is full of diverging paths. The misaligned fates of two people carry their own sorrow. Shanks knew this better than anyone. He had come to the most resolute realization in the most decisive way: a guide must never walk side by side with the dream-chaser.
And so Shanks went too far. No wonder dear old Garp chased after him for a while with his fists. He had seduced little Luffy. He had planted a "poison seed" in a child who had yet to truly enter the world of men.
That afternoon, true to his word, he took Luffy into the mountains to hunt for mushrooms. He dawdled until sunset. Then, suddenly, he began telling Luffy stories of grand adventures on the sea. "You've never heard of the Pirate King? He saw everything in the world... from the sky to the bottom of the sea. Name anything, and I guarantee you Pirate King Roger has been there. That's right. I bet you'd love the lake that tastes like barbecue sauce and the king devil's tongue that tastes like ham. Once upon a time, Pirate King-san split a small mountain with his bare hands to save an unhatched egg from a meat-eating giant bird..."
Shanks sat cross-legged on the grassy cliff by the sea, tossing his straw hat in the air and spinning it, finally, on his own merit, winning back Luffy's curiosity-filled heart.
"Every pirate has a treasure. No – every person, one way or another, has something they hold dear," Shanks gazed at Luffy's curious, smiling face as he settled the straw hat back on his own head and murmured, "This hat is my most cherished treasure. I've worn it since I was a child – twenty-seven whole years. This straw hat has been to the East, West, South, and North Blues, and in the end, it will surely go with me to the end of the world..." His red eyes were lit up by the setting sun, his gaze burning hot on Luffy's face, seemingly able to carve a lifelong brand into the child's smooth skin.
He got his wish. He regained Luffy's attention and reveled in the child's exceptionally clingy affection.
"So you're a kid person now. Is it that time of your life?" Beckman teased.
"Nah, it's not like that. Luffy's just so interesting. Sometimes I think he's exactly like I was as a kid... But he's too young. If he were a few years older, I'd get some child-training swords out of the armory for him."
As it turned out, seven-year-old Luffy couldn't be trusted with sharp objects, much less let on a pirate ship. He could hear the Voice of All Things. He did well on the "initiation test." But in just half a day, he cut his face, ate a Devil Fruit, and ran into bandits.
That morning he'd been begging to join the crew; by evening, he'd unilaterally broken up with Shanks. "I really misjudged you... I always thought Shanks was a super cool pirate!" Luffy's face was bruised. He turned his head away from the first mate. "Shanks is such a coward! I don't get it! I don't want to hang out with someone who's got no guts!"
"Then would you do me the honor of coming with me? We set sail tomorrow. The ship will be lively tonight... Come on, Luffy. Eat your fill, then go back to being mad." Beckman chuckled and flicked Luffy's little nose. Luffy agreed. Beckman turned, hefted Luffy onto his back, and, avoiding the villagers, carried him into the main cabin to meet Shanks.
"What are you doing here? I thought we were through." Shanks asked, knowing the answer.
"Hmph! I haven't forgiven Shanks yet! The first mate invited me. It's got nothing to do with you." Luffy sat down next to Shanks, using his rubbery little round hand to swat away Shanks's left arm, which was reaching over to put around his shoulder.
"Liar. How's the injury? Already forgotten the pain?" Shanks studied the bandage on Luffy's face and sighed deeply. "Ah... Promise me you won't cry when I leave. That cut's deep. If you don't take good care of it, it'll definitely leave a scar."
"Really? Yay! Great! I'll have one too!" He kicked his feet and laughed.
"You dummy... Come here. Let me see." Shanks grabbed Luffy's waist and, as expected, stretched him out. Shanks got excited and held him up. "Is it really like rubber? Hey, you don't feel anything, even like this?"
"I guess I feel... longer," Luffy said as he thought. "Hey, does that mean I can stretch my whole body? Even... there? Shanks, put me down! I want to try!"
He stood up straight, fumbled around in his head, then deliberately pulled out a strand of hair, excitedly yelling, "Whoa! So cool! It's a rubber band!"
Yes. Speechless. Shanks covered his face and burst out laughing, genuinely this time. Before Luffy could pluck out all his hair, he grabbed the boy's soft paw and said, "Alright, that's not going to work. A Devil Fruit only affects what's attached to you. The closer something is to your heart, the more important it is. That means, if someone were to cut off your arms and legs, your limbs would turn back into normal meat, but your remaining head and torso would still be rubber..." He explained intently, inadvertently revealing a brutal glimpse of life on the edge of a blade.
"That's scary. I don't want to be just a torso. I wouldn't even be able to crawl. Stop it. I don't wanna hear it." Luffy's scalp tingled. He bumped into Shanks's chest, waving his rubbery little hands to cover Shanks's mouth.
Ever since he'd dreamed of becoming a pirate, Luffy couldn't get enough of sleeping over in Shanks's hammock. Tonight, after only token resistance, he lay sprawled across Shanks, drifting off to sleep on the waves and the bedtime stories. Shanks closed his eyes, slept, then woke again. He got up and, under cover of darkness, stole something from Luffy. The Nika fruit... the rubber-man... Shanks's long-suspended destiny came crashing down. All that weight now pressed onto his sweet, innocent child... There was no one else around. He looked down, holding Luffy tightly, his heart hammering so hard he could barely breathe.
Of all people, why did it have to be Luffy? Take him away, send him away, or let him go? He had few choices. The decision had to be made tonight. He had to leave. But the rubber body was softer than he'd imagined. He looked down at Luffy, ran a hand over the boy's downy cheek, smoothing his delicate, fine eyebrows. Luffy still didn't wake up. His rubber belly rose and fell, his whole body limp and weak, silently allowing Shanks to slip away.
It hadn't been like this before. When they first met, Luffy held him too tightly. The day they napped together until dusk, he couldn't even free the arm he'd pillowed under Luffy's head... It was time to let go. After another two or three outings, they would head north.
A sad child was better than a dead little body. Would he lose Luffy? He hoped not. In the abyssal night sea, Shanks would always remember Luffy's radiant, laughing face. In the damp air, he endlessly revisited Luffy's dry, clean scent. He remembered one evening when they'd overslept their nap because Luffy, not yet rubber, had held him too tightly. Drool had soaked his sleeve, his left arm had long since gone completely numb. Shanks, suppressing a cramp in his lower belly, had thought: maybe the only way to scare Luffy awake would be to cut off this arm.
"Luffy, I should thank you."
"Hey, you're a man. How can you cry?"
"It's nothing. Just an arm. The important thing is that you're okay."
Luffy had screamed himself hoarse, covered in Shanks's blood. He'd lost a tooth to the mountain bandit, his mouth whistling with the gap, and stood broken to one side, crying for Shanks and for Shanks's left arm, which had sunk to the bottom of the sea. Surrounded by the pirates, he'd said, "I'll take... responsibility. I'll take responsibility for Shanks... Don't go. Just live at my house!" Luffy sobbed, hugging Shanks's remaining arm, and quite literally took him home from the Red Force's medical bay.
He'd dragged out two little sleeping mats, spread them on the wooden floor to make an adult-sized bed, and laid out on it a pillow, a one-armed Shanks, and two short blankets. Just like before, Luffy plastered himself to Shanks. Gazing at Shanks's chin, he took a deep breath. Just as he was about to announce something, Shanks suddenly pressed his finger to Luffy's lips. "Shh... Crybaby. Don't you dare apologize to me," Shanks said, strangely cheerful. He lifted Luffy's chin and solemnly declared, "Have you forgotten, Luffy? We're friends, right?"
Large tears slid over the scab at the corner of his eye. Luffy nodded deeply, silently. That night, a crimson nightmare invaded his happy place. Brighter than pomegranate juice, clearer than tomato sauce, Shanks-juice sprayed from his left arm, drenching Luffy's face and body. This red soup was hot, warm on his face like fresh urine. No. His Shanks had melted into the sea, gluing himself all over Luffy.
Inside him, the stickiness wouldn't go away. Whose watermelon head had exploded? Who was greedily sucking the soup out of his body? Oh, right. People without blood were pure white clouds. Hey, listen. Did you know? The sea is cruel. Shanks, in the water, said, "You think you, you little anchor, can be a pirate?" So he looked up, floating in the red waves, and shouted, "I'm not! I'm not 'a pirate.' Monkey D. Luffy is going to be the King of the Pirates!"
"Hey. Wake up. Why are you crying again? Does something hurt?" Shanks shook Luffy.
"Shanks... I'm not hurt. You are…" Luffy stared at Shanks's stump.
"How about a story? Where did I leave off?"
"No. No story today. And not ever again."
Luffy wiped his reddened eyes, sniffled, and grabbed Shanks's right hand. "That's enough. Shanks has already given me plenty. I want... I want to go on my own. I want my own great adventure. Someday, I'm going to..."
He said those words. Exactly. Word for word.
"Ah... That's something you could only do if you became the Pirate King, wouldn't you say?" Shanks laughed loudly, covering his eyes as tears fell. He pushed himself up, put his one arm around Luffy, and planted a deep kiss on the boy's scarred forehead.
His days-old thick beard scratched Luffy, making him yelp.
Later, people noticed that little Luffy didn't cry so much anymore. Wherever he went, he was holding hands with a disabled man, practically tethering himself to the redhead's belt. For an entire month, the little boy and the great pirate lived in Garp's cabin, focusing on healing. Their injuries were different: Luffy's permanent teeth hadn't even come in yet, while Shanks's arm had already knit itself shut.
At the final bandage change, Hongo handed the scissors to little Luffy, who had been waiting patiently at Shanks's heels. This time, it was Luffy who would "cut the ribbon" on Shanks's new stump. He held his breath, nervously peeled the gauze away slowly, and only when all the bandages had fallen away did he gasp and burst into laughter.
He'd been tricked again. Drawn on the end of Shanks's stump was a big, red, grinning face. The arrogant "Lefty" bobbed and wagged at him. Luffy, refusing to be outdone, charged forward and, using only the cold sweat from his own palms, smeared and wiped "Lefty" out of existence.
Everyone came and went in a hurry, quietly brewing a long goodbye.
For one year and nine months, the Red Hair Pirates had looted the ancient Goya royal tomb inside Mt. Colubo. Their holds were brimming with gold, silver, and jewels. The great captain's most cherished hat now rested on a child's head at the shore.
Hoist the sails. Weigh anchor. Sing out the long, drawling shanty. The crew tugged on the anchor cable, pulling it in, link by link. Draped in a black coat, he stood proudly at the prow. He could no longer pull on the anchor line with his crewmates – Shanks simply stood in the sea breeze, staring for a long time, until the continent faded away, until little Luffy in his straw hat dwindled and vanished along the horizon.
Oh, hurry and grow Luffy! The straw-hat boy's great journey had only just begun! In the dead of night, Shanks smiled, relieved. Their anchor line must not break. He opened a treasure chest, clutched the little anchor's shirt he had stolen, and lay back in his hammock, drifting into sunny dreams.