One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda
He can feel the warmth leaking out of his torso and he thinks things aren't looking very good. Something is shaking, he can feel it, and he realizes it's Luffy's arms around him. He tries to say something, tries to force out words of comfort, but it's as if that magma-asshole blew through his vocal cords and he can't get them to work.
it'll be okay really don't cry please luffy i'm fine come on it'll be okay
He knows he's going to die and he doesn't want to die, but maybe if he were to die that'd be okay, too, because he has no regrets. But he'll miss so many things, like the colours of the sky and the smell of food and the sound of crew mates. He'll miss seeing that toothy grin slapped on a wanted poster and the proud feeling swelling up in his chest that accompanies it. He feels like crying when he realizes that he'll never be able to see the dream of the person who means so much to him become a reality, even though he has no doubt that it will happen.
Does it really matter, though? He'll miss everything about this world, but does it really matter? The world has served it's purpose for him, hasn't it?
Because he realizes now that it was in the colours of the sky and the smell of food and the sound of crew mates that he found the answer to his question.
And in that toothy grin was where the answer lay stagnant all along.
"Gramps… Do you think I should really have been born?"
"That kind of thing, well, you can only find out by living."