A/N: So I think I have a problem. I think too much. A few updates! An awesome reviewer mentioned I should upload this story on AO3, archive of our own. It's another website for fanfiction. I've done so and posted my story there as well for you all to read.

I've been doodling lately. If you guys did want some insight on who the hell I am, I opened up a tumblr recently for my doodles. I've been working on a series of ink works for FFXIV, a game I play. xdrifterrr . tumblr . com. Just doodles requested by friends. I have an official deviantart with more professional pieces. I'm working on cleaning up that site. I'll link that later when I'm comfortable with what I've posted there. (It's been forever since I cleaned that site up.)

Oh yeah, I will illustrate a few scenes from my story, it literally takes no time to do so. Comment with a few scenes you enjoyed, maybe I'll draw it! I definitely have one or two I enjoy. Thanks all for your continual support, I'm extremely gratituous to those that have expressed their opinions and concerns about my story. Breaching 67K words in 12 chapters is a big accomplishment. I'm usually writing 15 pages in a word doc each chapter. It's a lot of work, so I'm sorry for being slow these days. Thanks for your patience!


Chapter 12: Rejuvenation


•THOUSAND SUNNY•

Zoro had finished his plate of food, leaving nothing but the fork behind on the white porcelain. The silence in the room wasn't eerie, but oddly comfortable. Sanji was still quietly enjoying his smoke as he would usually. "I'm just gonna say it, I'm sorry." His words were grave and swift, heavy on him but quick to let go.

Sanji immediately perked up from his hazy smoke, glancing over at Zoro with a nearly unreadable expression. "Yeah, you should be. I don't even know what you were trying to accomplish…" The blond just needed more of an explanation from the other…in regards to well, everything. It all needed to be spelled out, especially since this situation was abnormal for both of them.

"Don't really know. But…the truth of the matter is…" Zoro hesitated momentarily as he leaned forward, placing his empty plate on the table, "I actually like you, shitty cook." He rubbed the side of his neck as he craned his head to the side, not bothering to look at the blond as he said it. It was judgment day, and Zoro wasn't sure if he was ready to get sent to hell or heaven so early.

The cook furrowed his brows gently, not really sure how to take the mixed remark. "…Zoro." He fell silent for a few moments as he turned his face to look at the swordsman. He was clearly waiting uneasily for the verdict that would make or break a potential relationship. Wait, relationship? With…Zoro? The blond felt heat rush to his cheeks at the thought of it; luckily no blush appeared. Only Zoro could trigger him like this, joke or not—"If you think I'm supposed to be flattered or some crap, you're dead wrong." An air of severity clung to Sanji's very words as he spoke, the smoke gentle in the air much like his mien. "What you did caught me off guard and surprised me…but after thinking about it, it all kinda made sense. You know, that you're…" he hesitated, and then murmured the rest, "…fond of men." Sanji shifted his gaze from Zoro to the table, still trying to wrap his mind around the entirety of the situation.

Grimacing from the way Sanji was telling him off, only to soften up after hearing the other's half-assed acceptance of reality, Zoro uneasily pressed his lips together out of apprehension. "Damn it." He folded his arms over his chest and looked at the other, his brows furrowed with a lace of anger, "I just need to know if you're interested…or feel the same way…" It was such a pain to ask, and…well, it wasn't that Zoro had a thing for just males, he loved whatever and whomever he loved. There was no barrier to it, nothing more. Of course…sake was more pleasing to him than women in general these days. Sanji, on the other hand…he was the only one who ever really entertained him and kept him company. Through thick and thin, there was always the cook at his side—even in times of danger, depression, and defeat. Sanji was his ultimate companion, and perhaps he spoke to the most—be it through battle or banter.

A moment of silence passed, Zoro becoming even tenser in the process. So he spoke once more, the suspense was just unbearable, "…we can forget this ever happened." The words, murmured so seriously, were perhaps the hardest thing he'd ever suggested. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd get this goddamn ladies' man to end up with him. Zoro suddenly felt a rush of stupidity wash over him, his mind overheating with an emotion he wasn't exactly fond of expressing.

Sanji shook his head and finally met eyes with the swordsman for the first time since he arrived. "…Forgetting is out of the question. And you can't just expect me to just get used to this so quickly, and give you some sort of answer…"

Getting a little more impatient and frustrated by Sanji's response, Zoro interjected with a question rather quickly, "Did you like it?" He held his gaze with the other, silently admiring those blue hued eyes.

"…What?"

"When I kissed you, did you like it?" It was simple, either he enjoyed it, or he didn't. And the answer to that would ultimately be the answer to their relationship. Zoro hated indecisiveness, and beating around the bush, it was either a yes or a no.

Confused by the question, albeit a bit embarrassed, Sanji rubbed his eye with the side of his knuckle, "…I don't…really know. It's hard to enjoy something you weren't ready for." What was Zoro getting at?

The shirtless swordsman sighed heavily, contemplating to himself momentarily. What if Sanji was actually given a chance to be…well, ready for it? Damn it. He'd suggest it, since he was already in this deep…"Then let me try it again, and this time you won't be caught off guard." He ran a hand through his own fuzzy hair, "…And then you'll know if you're interested."

Sanji was surprised by Zoro's forwardness, but that was just so like him. Zoro was taking charge of his issue and trying to resolve it because it was clearly eating at him. Even so, the blond felt irked by the sudden suggestion and couldn't help himself from retorting negatively, "Uh…no. Can you stop thinking about yourself just for a damn moment? It's not just about you getting your damn answer."

"Then stop beating around the bush, shitty cook. How can you be so unsure? Either you hated it, or enjoyed it. Either you like me, or you don't."

"It's not that simple, you damn amateur. Liking someone is one thing, but trying to understand if you like the same sex is another thing!" Sanji, clearly flustered, dabbed his cigarette's butt into the plate on the table before them and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.

Suddenly understanding what Sanji was truly trying to come to terms with, Zoro relaxed slightly and cursed himself for not seeing the bigger picture. Sanji's situation was no easy one. Not feeling like he earned the right to neither respond nor apologize, all the swordsman could do was sit there in silence, tension etched into his demeanor. He rested his eye on the conflicted chef, feeling the need to comfort him become overwhelmingly strong. With slight hesitation, he rested his hand on Sanji's shoulder and squeezed the other gently. In a low, hesitant voice he murmured. "…I've held this all in for too long. Head's not on straight." Zoro released the blonde's shoulder and lost himself to a somber silence. He'd give Sanji his space, to let him absorb everything, now that all of his emotions were all out on the table.

Sanji found comfort in the gentle gesture, but overall he still felt pretty worked up and uncomfortable. Maybe he should…well. Zoro was serious about him, and it was clear as day that he was being genuine through his words and actions both. The blond suddenly felt his heart beat faster than a well-oiled machine, his thoughts sending him into a whirlwind of anxiety and question. Maybe he should…he'd do it. Looking at Zoro once more, the blond sat upright from his lax position and nudged Zoro's arm. When the swordsman looked at him, the blond took advantage of the moment and grabbed both ends of the towel resting around his neck. He pulled him forward by tugging on the damp material, and pressed his lips against the other's.

This time, Zoro was the one who was caught off guard, but accepting of it nonetheless. He placed his hands around Sanji's waist, pulling the other closer in the process. Their lips coalesced in such a striking manner, both men testing each other's taste almost naturally. After a few moments, the blond broke the kiss, his lips resting merely half an inch from Zoro's. The tips of their noses grazed against one another, as their heated breath lingered in the air betwixt them. Zoro chose to move forward and kiss the other once more. Taking said kiss for only a brief moment, Sanji pulled away again, evasively. "No," he shook his head and moved away from the other, his eyes searching to lock onto anything but Zoro.

Worried to see Sanji wipe his lip with the side of his hand as he looked away, the swordsman felt apprehension seep beneath his skin. He pressed his own lips together as he rubbed Sanji's side gently, eventually releasing said man completely. "That bad?"

Sanji shook his head, wordlessly. The cook felt his skin crawl from whatever it was that he was feeling, and so he pulled out another cigarette from his pocket and fumbled for a few moments to light it. It was almost frightening; did he actually enjoy that kiss? No way in the seven hells did he ever think he'd willingly kiss Zoro in some sort of heated exchange. Breathing in the air of nicotine, he exhaled evenly, calming his nerves.

What was going on in his mind? Zoro would give anything just to know. Anytime Sanji felt uncomfortable, or at a loss—he'd bite the cigarette in apprehension. Classic Sanji. "Tch, you're worse than me." Zoro grimaced briefly, leaning forward to pick up the bottle of sake off of the table. It was about time the cook actually let him have some. The swordsman popped the lid open and took a swig. He was no better than the blond when it came to his own fix.

A few minutes passed, Zoro stood up from where he sat, his body completely cooled off from his work out at this point. He made his way over to his green robe that was draped over a nearby chair. He flung it over his shoulders and began tying his red sash about his waist.

Eventually, Sanji came around and broke the silence. "…How long have you felt like this?" The blonde's eyes were now set on the back of Zoro's frame as he dressed. It was no lie, the man was physically attractive—and any gender could admit to that hands down.

Zoro felt slightly better when he heard the blonde's voice, but the question…it made him feel insecure, albeit a bit uncomfortable. However…he came to the conclusion that anything was better than Sanji's silence. Glancing at the blond on the sofa, he responded, "…Don't know. I couldn't…" Zoro hesitated, pressing his lips together and shutting his eyes. He turned his face away from the other, pressing his thumb and forefinger over his eyes in thought, "Brooke's damn violin music," he muttered to himself. "…Probably longer than-tch, why does it even matter, swirly brow." Frustration seeped into his latter words as he turned to face the other with furrowed brows and heated cheeks. It was definitely from the sake, yeah. Totally.

The moment Zoro looked back at Sanji with his usual angry face, Sanji felt an air of renewal wash over him. That was normal old Zoro. The face in itself caused a chuckle to break out of his nervous demeanor. How could he not love pissing the other off, even when he didn't intend to in the first place? Classic Zoro.


•MINION ISLAND•


It was an early start to a new day. The coffee shop owner, Shinta, was well on his way out of town, off to search for Law. He didn't have the slightest clue as to where he could have been staying these days, but wherever it was, it'd be in hiding. Which meant…he would not be easy to find. If anything, he knew that the surgeon wanted to build a ship, and what better place than the woods? Due to the fact that was the only lead he had, he'd follow it as much as possible until he saw fit.

After hours had passed, Shinta felt as if he had exhausted every last bit of his energy. He didn't like the idea of leaving Leanne, his daughter, home alone for so long. Unfortunately he hadn't found a single trace of Law, nor a track to follow. The woods were vast, and there was also the matter of choosing which side of the island to start searching on. Would it be west or east? Disheartened, but feeling relieved that he had tried his best today—Shinta began his journey back home in hopes to reach before sundown.

On his way through the forest clearing, he noticed a figure up ahead. An air of danger and suspicion graced his mien, who the hell would be out in the forest at this time? A lumberjack wrapping up work for the day perhaps, but this man certainly didn't look like one, save for his tall and bulky appearance. Well then again, a cloak like that wasn't really helping him deduce anything. Approaching said male now, the elder addressed the other out of kindhearted curiosity. "Heya there, what're you waitin' 'round here for?"

"Shinta, was it?"

The shop-owner suddenly felt apprehension bubble beneath his skin, this man, just who was he exactly? He knew his name right off the bat. Now that was strange. And he was sure as hell no regular in his teahouse. Was this one of the men Law tried warning him about? "Who's askin'…"

"Someone with similar interests as you. I'm trying to find someone. This certain someone, well…he's not out here anymore. He's elsewhere."

Could it be? Was he looking for Leo? Why, was this the enemy, or was this some sort of friend? There was no way to tell for sure. "…Listen pal, I dun' really know what you're on about—"

"Do you want to find him or not?" Eno didn't feel like engaging in a circular conversation, so his sudden interjection literally translated to cut the crap and get a move on. He had too much to do, and little time to do it.

Shinta pursed his lips, hesitated, and then spoke. "Leo…?"


Vergo stared intently at Law, who was currently laying in bed half naked and semi conscious. The damn brat hadn't been the same since their last session; clearly something had broken inside of him and there was no turning back. That was exactly what they wanted—to make him reach this breaking point. Had he held out any longer, well, Vergo and company were beginning to think that Law was some sort of inhuman demon, one that just wasn't capable of falling. Well, unfortunately for him, he had now fallen. Victory never looked better, especially for the vengeful Vergo.

Doflamingo had asked Vergo to watch over the tattered body for some time whilst he tended to other affairs. It was oddly intriguing that Vergo didn't tire from watching Law's body. Just the way he breathed in such a subtle manner, well…it was alluring, almost enticing. Across his skin various bruises and cuts pattered along, eventually burrowing along his clavicle and sprouting to the side of his neck. It was clear as day that Law was parched, his lips chapped and dry from lack of moisture. Vergo finally lifted his heavy gaze from Law, and retrieved a bottle of water for the surgeon. He grabbed the other by the upper arm and helped him sit upright against the headboard. "Drink."

He nudged the bottle against Law's lips, the other easing his eyes open slightly out of discomfort. Parting his lips briefly, water soon met his tongue and wet his throat with rejuvenation. Vergo had tilted the bottle, causing Law to drink slightly more than he could handle. Water leaked slightly from the corner of his lip in the process. Law slowly lifted up a hand to grasp at the bottle gently, trying to help control his intake—of course that action in itself was weak, slow, and unsuccessful. Vergo decided to set the bottle aside and converse with Law, or…whatever was left of him now. One could only wonder what went on in that shrewd, now delicate mind. "I wonder if you can even walk. Can you?" Vergo teased briefly, shaking the other gently. Obviously, Law was in pain, and walking was out of the question.

Law gave little to no response, his head tilting gently off to the side as his stormy eyes finally found Vergo's shades. How long had Law been at this stand still situation? He was fighting cracked and bruised bones, ruptured tissues, concussions, blood loss, food poisoning, dehydration and malnutrition. Surely, this was hell that he prayed no one would ever have to endure.

Let alone…the loss of his family, his city, and his home. Even his savior.

He closed his eyes. He had been defeated and that was the end of his story. No more words, no more actions, no more…anything. Law was numb to it all whilst questioning his current existence. What a marveling mystery, his existence was! He was alive, just how did he manage that? How long more did he have before he was completely obliterated by his toxic environment? Yet…all he could manage…was thinking of Corazon's smile every time he felt his heart beat. Surely, his devil fruit was working miracles to keep his life in tact thus far. But in the end, even Law was just a man. And men fell to these ailments, even if it were slowed by the unnatural phenomena of devil fruit.

Releasing the other's arm, Vergo stood from the chair at Law's bedside. Perhaps it was time to figure out what was on the menu for dinner? The sun had nearly set, and damn was he hungry. Exiting Law's room, Vergo made his way downstairs to see if Monet had dinner plans.

Alone at last, Law shifted about slightly in such a sluggish fashion, his hand now resting over his heart. The tattoos…they were the permanent reminder of what he stood for, what he believed in, dreamed of. For now, he'd remain adrift in his semi-conscious thought process.

Downstairs, Vergo was alerted that they had a visitor at the door that appeared to be completely harmless. He had come with a delivery. Interested by this, but not fully convinced, the man in the tuxedo approached the front doors of the mansion and was met with a rather old male with a large basket full of wonders. Fresh bread, biscuits, pies, and breadsticks were all neatly presented within; a checkered cloth covering the rest to preserve warmth. What the hell was this? Did Monet order fresh bread from the town or something? Or did this man just happen to wander up here? Nothing was quite believable, but he was sure that he was about to get one hell of a story. Despite the fact that he was very hungry, he maintained his stern mien and questioned the male he had the exceedingly rising urge to destroy out of irritation. "Start talking old man, before I take your bread and kick you down the hill from where you came." Zero bullshit requested.

Clearly intimidated but maintaining his happy go lucky expression at the same time, Shinta chuckled nervously, "I usually come up the hill once a month to collect huckleberries in da' brush…On the way here I heard the good ol' laughter o' men and ended up here. I thought I'd share some bread from my lunch basket with 'em since I spend my day on the hill…the men ushered me here, oh dearie…" Shinta shook his head and shrugged, "…I can be on my way if ya' don't want any—"

"Take a bite of that bread old man." First thing's first—was it poisoned? This was still too damn odd.

Upstairs, Law's forehead was met with a rigid hand. The spiky haired surgeon no doubt had a slight fever from ill health, and Eno deduced that this was indeed, no way to live, and indeed, the work of Joker. Law reeked of sea-prism and abuse. This definitely was the notoriously grand pirate Trafalgar Law himself—his suspicions were confirmed! It'd been so long since they last met. Eno sighed heavily to himself, removing the bandana from his face, followed by the dark spectacles shielding his eyes. He was a well-built man, reptilian in nature. His rigid exterior and strong mien embraced an air of solemnity; seeing one of the top pirates from the Worst Generation in this state? Law was better than this, and this was unacceptable. When one bit the bullet in battle they would no doubt, fall. And Law fell.

He shook Law by the shoulder gently, causing the other's eyes to shift beneath his lids. Eventually, they eased open to the sound of Eno's familiar voice. "I'm not here for you specifically, but I couldn't resist taking a detour from my mission…I had this hunch, and followed it. It's you, Law." He placed a hand on his hip as he spoke, shifting his weight briefly as he stood at the bedside. A moment passed. "…But you were here that night, those several years ago. My father was murdered here, during the…exchange. You know, the one that went all wrong. You ended up with the devil fruit that caused the death of many men, save your own."

His real name was Diez Drake. He shook his head briefly. "You were a kid, I was a kid. I don't blame you for what happened." Diez Drake, son of Diez Barrels. "My father abused me, but he and the rest of them didn't deserve to be massacred." He had climbed the side of the mansion and came through the window."Tch, hah, this is pointless when you're practically brain dead." He used to live here.

"Drake," Law whispered, in confirmation. What a hellish surprise…one of his opponents in the New World, but even so…there was some sort of tie between the two that happen to take shape of a thin line.

Shaking his head to himself, Drake sighed—"I can't get you out just yet. My crew is on standby at a different location. Doflamingo is already onto me, even with my alias and disguise. This jackass was supposed to go down in Dressrosa, but the papers were saying otherwise. I was already on Minion Island with my own agenda, and then I overheard a man speak to Joker on a transponder snail. I took him out and resumed his position. His name was Eno." Of course, Drake didn't plan on telling Law his true intentions, reasons, and agenda in regards to why he was here and what he planned on doing in the future. Kaido was his main quarrel, and Doflamingo was merely the precedent. For now, this information would suffice. That is…if Law even comprehended it all clearly. How long exactly had he been stuck with the Joker? Days? Weeks?

The surgeon, a bit more alert than before, weakly furrowed his brows as he did his best to understand what he was being told. It had been quite a while since he'd spoken to anyone other than Doflamingo, Monet, and Vergo. He was on a tight leash, and there was no loosening of it due to who was at the other end of it. He needed backup, and hell, it was better now than never. Law's broken self-esteem, confidence, and strength, suddenly felt a spark of revitalization. Was this the bit of hope he needed to…wake up out of this depressive haze!? Whatever the hell Drake's motives were…well, it was clear as day he didn't want Law to rot at the hands of Joker. Not in his damn house, at least. Law managed to smirk, weak as it was.

Now…was that the smirk of a mad man, or a shrewd one?


"You haven't died yet, impressive." Vergo rolled his eyes beneath his shades, something that no one could visibly see. By this point, he had made the old man try a bite of each thing in the basket to ensure that none of it poisoned. The man hadn't died nor collapsed, so it was clearly clean food.

"Well what else did ya' expect?" Shinta sighed, full from the food samplings he had just consumed. "Go on an' help yourself now. I'm gonna head back home now, it's been a long day. Sun's been long set and it's late."

Taking hold of the basket, Vergo furrowed his brows—no. This old guy wasn't going to get off so easy. Yes he had brought him some treats by sheer coincidence, and yes he had wasted his time. And for that, Vergo marveled at the possibility of an even better dinner. Perhaps this guy could teach Monet a thing or two about cooking? Her damned wings were good at many things save that. "It's dark, and you'll roll down that hill if you make one wrong step. You're staying here tonight, and you're going to make us a perfect dinner. If you fail, well…then you'll never get to go home as long as we see fit." Yes it was a risk to expose Doflamingo to this male, but that didn't matter as much—he'd probably kill this shitty excuse of an old guy anyway. Vergo latched onto the old guy's arm and dragged him inside, flinging him straight onto the ground with little effort. The front doors of the mansion were promptly shut and locked.


Vergo placed the basket of various breads on the table before Doflamingo and Law. Lovely aromas were escaping the kitchen and seeping into their immediate atmosphere. Law's mouth watered at the scent, despite the fact that he was no fan of bread to begin with—the centerpiece of the table was no doubt a turn off, but in his state anything would suffice. Apparently Monet was in the kitchen with their guest cook of the evening. Vergo sat adjacent to Law, who was beside Doflamingo. The blond had an uneventful day and was somewhat entertained by the fact that dinner would be a surprise, so to speak. He was eager to meet their guest, and he was eager to have a hearty meal. And…if he was let down, and left in disappointment, well it would be quite unfortunate for whoever said man was.

Death by dinner? Always a possibility.

"What's on your mind, Law?" Something was slightly off; the spiky haired surgeon seemed a tad more awake than usual. Or perhaps there was just a dark hint of arrogance glinting in his eyes…or maybe the smell of food was perking him up? In actuality, he was still brooding and gloomy as usual…perhaps it was nothing after all. The brief silence was then broken by the sounds of the kitchen doors opening, Shinta came out with a few steaming plates of food in his hands and arms. The old man faltered briefly when he saw Law, his condition clearly poor. He was just…so out of it. And those cuts and bruises…they were not tended, his bare chest clearly on display for the sadistic madmen to behold. What exactly was going on here?! At least Eno was right—Law was here after all! Had he been captured?! The surprised old man placed the plates of food on the table, a second shock hitting him almost too quickly—was that the warlord Doflamingo Donquixote?! Is this the island he fled to post Dressrosa?! Fearing the possibility of his town being destroyed, he prayed to all that was holy that his home would not suffer the same fate as Dressrosa. And this male…Leo, no, he wasn't Leo—he knew that was a lie from the start. This man was Trafalgar Law. Just how in the hell did he end up in such a dangerous situation?! He needed to call for help, the navy, anyone! He needed to alert his town, and do whatever he could to save their home from impending destruction!

Panic clearly etched on the old man's face, Doflamingo burst out in a heinous slice of laughter. This was the cook that Vergo happened upon?! Clearly it wasn't some coincidence! Did this old man truly intend to find Law himself, and save him from their clutches single handedly? Absolutely preposterous! There must have been more to this meeting than that. Law…just how cunning was he? Did he put the old man up to this? It wasn't completely out of the question despite the fact that the surgeon wasn't much since they'd broken him. And here he threatened to slaughter the man and his daughter before Law's very eyes just days ago. "Vergo, this old man is Law's friend."

"Law's friend?" Monet trotted into the dining room, her own plate in her feathery hand. Perfectly content, she approached the table and filled a vacant chair. The harpy lady was too busy with her own affairs, tracking down Eno and what not. She had yet to tell Doflamingo the news of his disappearance…The man had left his post earlier than usual today, and she had plans to confront him with Doflamingo on site tomorrow. Who knew if Eno would even show up? Perhaps he left early for something as trivial as bringing a pie home to a friend? That was highly doubtful…but now she'd have to see if he would show up to work tomorrow. If he didn't, well…then clearly he was involved in acts of espionage. That would lead to the bigger question: who was he working for?

"In that case we should get rid of him," Vergo spat, clearly irritated by the man's existence.

Despite being handicapped by the condition he was in, Law had many thoughts sear through his mind. It was hard to think, deduce, and react—he felt tired, sluggish, and worthless. He felt weak, powerless, and fucked. Despite the negative bouillabaisse of emotions, he still had morale. He had a hint of hope. And hope came in the most unpredictable forms. Now that he was more conscious, he only just came to terms with the fact that Drake had infiltrated the mansion and revealed himself to the other. For now, he remained neutral in position, but willing to save Law from a man he happened to dislike. Drake had said a lot of things, but he hadn't mentioned Shinta once. Was the shop owner being used as some sort of diversion or distraction? Did Drake even inform the other of the danger he was getting into?! Worried and uneasy—a feeling all too familiar, Law murmured wearily, sternly, "Don't waste your time on a scared old man," he coughed briefly, biting back his tongue with subtle anxiety. His voice was sturdy despite the dryness of his throat. It was time to get his head back in the game, especially since…new cards were dealt to the table.

"Ohh? You're concerned about him?" Doflamingo summoned a web of strings and within seconds the old man was bound and slammed against the wall. Crumpling to the floor from the uncanny force, he spat blood and slowly sat upright, the strings still overbearingly strong around his body. Leaning against the wall now, all Shinta could think of were thoughts of his young daughter, and what would become of her future if this man continued to reside on their island. These damned, unruly, unholy, and powerful pirates…the world would be better off without them! However…this wasn't completely true, and deep down inside he acknowledged that. Law was the man who saved his daughter's life, and for very little in exchange. All men were created equal, from the beginning of time and to the end.

Just…where was Eno? Being held hostage wasn't apart of their plan. Surely Eno would come back for them both…wouldn't he? Shinta feeling very uneasy, acknowledged he took a big risk with a man he barely knew. If anything, at least Eno was correct—Law was here, and with dangerous men. In hindsight, that seemed like one hell of an understatement. Doflamingo and company were beyond dangerous.

Feeling like he had just swat a fly, Doflamingo turned his attention elsewhere. Law's expression. The boy had a bead of sweat slide from his temple out of what, fear? Sickness? Both? What a refreshing picture to see. Turning his attention to his food, he savored the smell and picked up his wine glass. Raising it towards the bloody old bastard he'd swatted, he spoke, "Compliments to the chef." Chuckling, the trio of monsters helped themselves to the fresh meal Shinta created under Monet's supervision.

As they dined around him, Law's head spun with anger, frustration! How could one possibly eat when a friend was hurting? How could one possibly eat the meal of a man who was now currently bleeding and bound on the floor before them! The surgeon of death suddenly felt a great urge to show Vergo, Doflamingo, and Monet that he wasn't a man to be preyed on, emotionally and physically, but a man to be just as feared. But how?! His body ached from the violent rape infested battering he had received recently, and there was nothing he could bring himself to fear more! That was it then, there was nothing more to fear! If Luffy were here, he'd fight to the death, and that was all that Law wanted to do. Drake and Shinta reminded him of that. So that was it then, so be it. I have to wake myself up.

Law would eat the food, not out of spite, but out of respect for the man who sheltered him. Finally taking up a fork to his plate, he consumed as quickly as he possibly could, despite his pulled muscles and aching jaw. He ate almost emotionally; doing his best to block out the fiends that surrounded him. Soon enough, the meal was taken from him, courtesy of Vergo, and Law stabbed the man's hand with his fork faster than anyone could predict. Vergo's hand was now pinned to the table, and he grunted quite audibly. Law, not really giving a shit, spoke with a cleaner voice than before, "A storm's coming. And you'll be struck by lightning." He was rejuvenated with a recently gifted sense of clarity…

Law smirked.

The captain of the heart pirates was recalling the reassurance, little as it was, that Drake provided him before leaving. At least someone knew of his whereabouts and intended to return now that his suspicions were confirmed. "Hold on for awhile longer," he said, before he bolted out the window before Vergo returned.


THOUSAND SUNNY•


"How many times do I have to tell you, Luffy!" Nami furrowed her brows and was just about ready to smack her captain with the nearest object. "Just one more day! Be patient and stop working us all up! We'll be there tomorrow!"

"I can't help it, it's been forever since we left Dressrosa!" An exasperated sigh left his lips as he folded his arms in brief despair. It was just hard. Everyday, he looked at Bepo—the polar bear was so forlorn and worried for his captain. Luffy couldn't help but feel like he'd failed the other, and didn't do enough to save his friend who was in peril. The situation at Dressrosa was just completely chaotic and confusing. One trouble led to another trouble there, and the fight with Bellamy still set his emotions ablaze with the fires of vengeance. "I just want to kick his ass already." Grumpy, the straw hatted captain was then called over by Franky.

"I just want to get there so you can quit whining," Zoro muttered to himself, leaning his back against the railing of the ship. So much chaos and confusion had taken place at Dressrosa, and his knack for getting lost had ran him straight into Admiral Fujitora and eventually, Pica. He, among the other members of the crew left Law in Luffy's hands. They all had faith in their captain, and that faith was undying. In the end, it was a group effort and they hadn't been quick enough to come to the rescue.

Franky had invented a new gadget and was just about ready to give it a test drive. It was a remote controlled battle drone the size of two footballs. It could drop bombs over enemy ships or be a spy camera with the addition of a transponder snail. Luffy's eyes immediately sparkled—Usopp and Chopper already following the drone around like star-crossed lovers. It was a neat invention! Nami and Robin were also fascinated by the tinkering.

Sanji soon entered their vicinity on the main deck, a fresh plate of well-seasoned fish in hand. Taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, he ended up yawning quietly to himself. Minion Island, huh? They were getting closer, and visually it was obvious. The storm clouds were becoming thicker. Law did indeed save Sanji from the overheated whips of Doflamingo, and the least he could do was return the favor. But...they all knew Luffy. The man wanted to defeat the devil. He made his way to Bepo and gifted him said plate, in hopes that it would cheer him up. Taking a seat beside him on the bench by the orange trees, he smiled softly to himself. "I'm sure Tra-guy's fine. Eat up. We're probably in for one hell of a time over there."

Bepo lit up at the beautiful plate of food now in his fuzzy paws. Well that was awfully kind of Sanji, now wasn't it? "Thank you." A pause. "…I just want to get it all over with and see him." Overcome with flashbacks of the separation he'd endured with his own brother, and the feelings he felt at that time…well. It was overbearing. It hurt. He had searched so long and to no avail. He just hoped it wouldn't end up the same way with Law, who had practically become another brother to him throughout all of their adventures as well.

"We'll find him, Bepo. Now eat up…and damn that drone is getting pretty clos—" Hums from the drone neared…It was out of control! It came full speed, straight for Bepo's hands! "Damn!" Before they knew it, Sanji's plate of fresh fish was knocked into the air! Both Bepo and Sanji flinched momentarily as the drone finished buzzing by. Luffy, still dazzled by the awesomeness of the invention, let his nose take control of his body. He took a detour and grabbed at the fish—which in turn was shoved straight into his mouth.

"Ahhh, thish ish good Shanji!" Luffy chuckled as he munched on the fish, the blond irked by Luffy's behavior that they were all too used to. Glancing at the slightly dumbfounded Bepo, Sanji muttered, "I'll make another, no worries. I always make extra in case of…Luffy."

And so the boys continued their ongoing drone chase, as Brooke calmly sipped a milky cup of tea in the background. Franky, still feeling slightly guilty for hitting Bepo's plate continued fumbling with his remote control. The damn connection was spotty, maybe it was the cloudy weather? It'd been getting stormier and colder the closer they got to the island, after all…Maybe that storm was going to hit soon. Who knew? If anything, this was sure going to be one long day.


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