this is a part of the origins series, short stories that explain how a character fits into this wacky timeline.
light pours through the port hole, bathing him in soft rays and rousing him from his slumber. the creak gone from his joints and his energy renewed, nothing like the usual wake up he's grown accustomed to.
he opens his eyes and sees dark oak, white marine standard sheets that cover his legs and the light blues of an early morning. he weeps, quietly and using his hand to hide the soft whimpers. 30 years of no sight hitting him, a trembling smile stretching his face.
he touches his face, smooth of wrinkles from old age and free of the tender scars that once marred his face, a constant reminder of his decision. he thanks whatever god was merciful enough to give him the choice of continuing on the path of no doubts or to carve a new way.
fujitora tosses the sheets off himself and brings himself to his feet, his knees not clicking as he takes tentative steps.
monkey d. luffy, watch out, here comes the admiral that could not take that final step.
but first, he places a hand on his grumbling stomach, breakfast. and the mouthwatering smell of miso leads him out the door, his journey can wait til he's had his fill of a man's cooking long gone.