A/N: Disclaimer. I do not own One Piece.

So... It's been a while since I wrote something that looks like a pairing. Honestly speaking, The last two recent chapters of NLFL barely had things like a pairing- more like just school talk. -Not much progress too. So, it's actually four years since I've written a story like this. -It's alright.

I would like to state again, there is NOTHING sexually explicit, but since the themes seem a bit mature, I rated it as M.

Also, all of the OC are not even worth mentioning. Readers will not find out exactly how they look, or even know their names.

Lastly, this fiction is first-perspective (extremely) limited point-of-view. It's the first time I've written such a story like this. Readers will only know exactly what the MC sees and thinks. That is it. What the MC thinks is not worth mentioning will leave readers in the dark and to their imagination. Also, this story is not KidxReader.

Oh, I would like to mention that Kid is spelled this way. NLFL will be left as Kidd only for the sake of consistency.

Enjoy.


"It's really nothing. I just fell down from a few flights of stairs."

The girl in front of me said when I asked her about the sprained ankle she had.

Then, I saw your reflection.

I was ten and you were thirteen. We lived in the ghetto parts of town and I had a rough life. I was already homeless, running about snatching people's belongings to sell and in order to eat.

I remember the first time I met you- it was when I was caught by one of my victims. They were really frustrated with me and didn't hesitate to go all out on me. Two full grown adults versus a ten year old. Of course, I lost.

-I didn't cry though. I never cried ever since I lived on my own. I was, however, definitely upset. Frustrated too.

Then, I met you.

"What's with the long face, kid?" You asked. I knew you didn't pity me- by the looks of your smirk written on your face. I glared at you and tried to ignore you but you stopped me. I was very annoyed with you and your curiosity. But then, whenever you saw me hurt from that day on, you always tended my wounds. You looked out for me and cared for me whenever I was unsuccessful- sometimes even providing me some food. You were cheerful and taught me things about life.

Then I saw the girl in front of me again- apparently upset since I wasn't listening to her. We are in a cafe- not in the ghettos. I am not ten, but is currently twenty-one. Why did I suddenly remember you? I wonder. The girl in front of me- guess you can call her my girlfriend- looks nothing like you. She doesn't have short hair, nor is it black. She is cheerful, but not quite like you. She is thin like you, but I guess you were much more slim. She honestly doesn't represent you at all. -Not one bit.

Actually, why did I suddenly see you again after such a long time? I can't even remember your name. I don't even recall why we haven't seen each other for the longest time. I guess, since I moved out of the ghettos. That was when I was eleven. Was it then?

I wonder how you are doing.

o-o-o-o-o

I looked at the window and it was already dark. I am at a bar, taking some shots.

It's already been a few months ever since I remembered you. I believe I suddenly remembered you n that one sunny day at the cafe- when my girlfriend sprained her ankle.

...Girlfriend...

-We broke up today. She said that I've changed and I kept daydreaming. I never told her why I kept remembering you- thought she'll get jealous- although you're a guy.

I remember you being cheerful, but not as cheerful as my girlfriend- I mean, ex-girlfriend. If I remember correctly, your humor was always somewhat dark- black humor I suppose. You always kept your composure and never flinched in disgust when I had a bad wound. You always kept calm and bandaged me up.

"It's really nothing. I just fell down from a few flights of stairs."

-I remember why my ex reminded me of you. Just right now- it just came to me.

"It's really nothing. I just fell down from a few flights of stairs."

That's what my ex said when I saw her foot.

-That's what you answered when I asked you about all the bandages you had.

You found me with wounds again and you quickly bandaged me up. But that day, you wore a black turtle neck. You didn't even roll up your sleeves like usual. It was very odd since it was such a hot day that day.

Then I saw it. As you bandaged my head, I saw your bandages from beneath those black sleeves. Also, as I stared at your sweat rolling down from your temple to your neck, I saw round bruises on your neck. Then I asked you what happened.

You just smiled at me saying, "It's really nothing. I just fell down from a few flights of stairs."

If I recall that moment, that smile was really forced. Your eyes looked shocked that I noticed. You immediately tried to raise that collar of yours to hide those bruises.

Those weren't wounds from the stairs were they?

I couldn't understand it- since I was a kid- but those bruises were all round. I think some of them were bite marks actually.

What was going on with your life as you cheered me up when I was going through rough times?

...Why can't I still recall your name?

-Then someone tapped my shoulder.

It was some chick I knew from before. Heat had once said that she likes me. Mostly likely, she already found out about my broke up.

...She has black short hair and is pretty thin- like you.

That chick smiled and said, "What's with the long face, Kid?"

o-o-o-o-o

Well, that didn't last very long. I think it lasted a few weeks? I can't really remember.

I broke up with my girlfriend that had black short hair.

She said almost the same thing as my ex- that I've changed, said I was violent...

I guess I'm frustrated with myself.

She has short black hair like you, but the style was a bit different. She's slim like you, but was a bit too voluptuous.

I'm at a bar again. -A different bar than last time.

To say it specifically, at a gay bar.

I don't know why I'm here actually. I just know that I can't go out with woman at the moment.

I guess I want to try out if I like guys.

It'll actually be nice if I can see you.

-Mainly, I want to see you.

If someone were to ask me how you looked and to draw a picture of you, I really wouldn't be able to.

Because I can't recall your face.

-Even your name.

I wish I had at least one photo of you.

-But perhaps that'll make me want to see you more.

You were thirteen. You must be Twenty-four right now. Back then, I have a feeling you were good looking. You should be pretty handsome right now.

-I wonder if you're already married?

But... You always had black circles under your eyes.

Yes, I remember. You always had black circles under your eyes and I asked you about it.

...What a nosy kid I was.

But you were always ready to answer me. -Although you made up some things.

That time, you said that you had a night job. I remember asking what kind of job, and you just said that it was something physical. I was a kid and assumed you helped out at a night-shift construction site- how ignorant I was. When I asked if you were strong, you just laughed. I couldn't understand it back then, but now I understand why you laughed.

Since I was worried about you, I told you to go to sleep- take a nap during the day. You just smiled and said that then, you wouldn't be able to see me.

That really made me happy.

-Wait a sec, now that I remember it, I think I confessed to you at that moment.

I think I said 'I love you.'

But you just said thanks, gave me a grin and ruffled my head.

-Why did I ever forget my first confession?

o-o-o-o-o

This guy is annoying. He gets on my nerves- so I punch him a few times.

He is actually my boyfriend that I met at the bar. We are in his apartment right now.

I kick him in the stomach while he's on the floor. He's such a weakling. -But is a nice punching bag.

I thought he looked like you- but he is nothing like you. You were much more prideful and strong-willed. This trash on the floor whines too much.

Right now, I'm kicking him in the stomach again.

He says that he wants to break up. Well, that's understandable, but I punched him anyways since he got on my nerves.

He reminds me so much of you but he's not you. He really gets on my nerves.

Where are you?

Where can I see you?

I remember one time how you asked if I was willing to get out of the ghettos with you. I remember saying anywhere's fine- as long as I was with you. I was already eleven by then. Did I get out of the ghettos with you?

My boyfriend gets up and rushes to the kitchen.

His back reminds me of you.

Even the way he runs to the kitchen.

-Why were you running?

I see something glisten and my boyfriend rushes up to me.

I feel something warm and wet on my stomach and legs.

I look down and it was all red. I wondered where the red was from.

Then the pain hit me.

Ah... I was stabbed. -And this red was blood.

As the iron scent hit my nose, I slowly slumped on the ground. Then the guy said...

"Good bye Kid, I don't think I'll ever see you again."

-Those words.

-Were the words I've forgotten for the longest time.

I remembered that day that we planned on leaving the ghettos together. I was eleven and it was a cloudy midday.

We were on our way when we ran into someone. You looked so shocked. -How could I have forgotten that shocked face of yours.

Then we ran.

Then, a bunch of guys started chasing us. You said that we should split- to confuse the guys. I agreed and I started heading a different direction. I think you already knew then that they were only after you because you called out my name before I went very far and said,

"Good bye kid, I don't think I'll ever see you again."

I was confused on what you were saying- so I decided not to go the other direction and followed you. Your back faced away from me.

You were three years older than me- you were much more faster than me.

I couldn't catch up to you. I kept calling your name, but you kept ignoring my calls.

Then I heard two gun shots.

I saw you drop on your side.

After that, I just remember running away from the ghettos with all my might.

-And crying for the first time since I lived by myself.

As my vision slowly blacked out, my boyfriend scrambles out.

I heard screams along the hallway.

I guess he happened to ran into people at the hall.

A blonde man quickly enters my boyfriend's apartment and finds me- on the floor.

He reassures to me that I'll be fine and to hang on since they've called an ambulance already.

-I wonder if I'll see you after I die?

But I bet you are in heaven.

I know I'll end up in hell.

I wish I remembered you earlier so that I lived a better life to see you once more in heaven.

I wished I realized the way I was living and to change it on the day I first remembered you again.

Did you show a reflection of yourself to try to change the way I was living my life?

But I'm glad for one thing.

I remembered you.

I remembered your face and your name.

Then everything turned all black...

...

...

...

...

...

o-o-o-o-o

...I wake up from the brightness of the room.

At first, I thought I was in heaven, but I saw the IV implanted on my arm.

I was on the bed, in a hospital.

I was alive.

I reflected on my life and made a decision.

I will stop hanging out with the guys on the streets and sell drugs.

I will find a proper job and work really hard.

I will change my life.

I am out of the ghettos right now and your reflection reminded me how I should live a proper life.

Then a doctor came in, arms crossed behind his back.

He was a slim man with black short hair with a goatee. He was in his mid-twenties and had black circles under his eyes.

I was speechless.

Tears started welling in my eyes and the man sneered.

He slid a chair next to my bed, sat down and reached for my hand.

He clamped my right hand with two of his thin hands.

"...Law...!"

"What's with the long face, Kid?" he smirked.


A/N: Yes, another one of those memory loss stories. They are just so easy to write about.

-And no, this is not the story I mentioned about brainstorming in "Tomorrow"'s A/N. I am still debating on how I should write it and whether I should make a Prologue, part one, part two, and part three.

Thank you very much for reading.