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Author's Note: Hi there! I've been around here before, but it's been ages, and I'm starting over with a clean slate and a new obsession. One Piece is grand. It is my current life. So I wrote a quickie ficlette, considering I haven't read/seen enough of OP to write a full-fledged thing. So enjoy!
Flames used for burning fruitcakes over an open fire. Be constructive if you're going to criticize me.
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Wax Candles
A One Piece Fanfiction by Mango Pirate
"How did you get rid of the kid?" My eyes remained focused on the glass I wiped out thoroughly, unnecessarily. If I looked up, I feared I would stare. Be a good barmaid, I told myself. Just clean the glass
"He hasn't had much to say to me the past couple of days." The voice was hollow, tense, slurred only slightly by mass quantities of alcohol. How long had he been here? The sunlight that had shown merrily in the windows when he had stumbled into the bar was long since replaed by flickering red wax candles
"I bet he feels...guilty," I voiced, allowing myself to set down the glass and rag, picking up a mop and setting about cleaning the kitchen floor. Now the soap suds that spattered along the floor caught my attention, graciously holding it, unwavering.
"That's better than pity," he growled, and I cringed. "You won't even look at me." Would no one else come in for a drink? They had probably all seen that he was there, and left out of fear, or respect, or both. He slammed the empty glass down on the bar counter. I took a breath. Just him and me. I would have to watch what I said.
"I'm not giving you any more," I spoke firmly, purposely staring into his dark eyes and swiping the glass away from him. "Nor am I giving you any pity." I began to wipe the glass as idly as before, watching my hand holding the rag, watching myself expertly hold the glass steady and clean it.
"I haven't changed," I heard him mutter, and could not help as I glanced up at him from my dishwashing duties; he rested his chin in the crook of his elbow, eyes shut, breath heavy. I wondered if he was hurting. I took a seat on the kitchen side of the counter, just opposite him. He sighed. I sighed.
"You haven't changed," I agreed presently. He opened his eyes and looked at me from beneath the brim of his hat. Such distant eyes...was it alcohol or pain that gave them that glaze? I wanted to comfort him, but recalling his prior statement, I settled for meeting his gaze and placing a hand atop his. His fingers twitched. I assumed he was unused to a female's touch. But then, he was a pirate--I reminded myself that I could have been wrong.
He broke the gaze and the silence first, squinting his eyes shut tightly and allowing a low whisper of, "I must be crazy..."
"Very brave, I would say." I watched him, my eyes raking in the details of his appearance, how helpless he looked. Again I mentally reminded myself; he was never helpless. ...Was he?
Silence fell. Without specifying any details to his question, the pirate captain asked softly, "Is he okay?" Luffy, I knew, was the one he referred to. The child, the leech, the worshipper. I smiled faintly.
"Yes, he is. ...Because you saved his life," I added, and the statement seemed to amaze him. Perhaps it was hearing it from someone else, or possibly it was the first time he had though about it. Either way, his spirits seemed to lift a bit, and he sat up again, looking somewhat happier.
He glanced around aimlessly until again meeting my gaze. "I almost don't remember already. It's so strange. I shouldn't forget so soon."
"Isn't it better not to remembeR?" My innocent question was met with a flare of anger, and I cursed myself for allowing him to drink so much. He clenched his hand into a fist and frowned.
"A person shouldn't forget what happens to them! That's how people learn," he declared, and I cringed for the second time that evening. My hand remained firmly atop his, either in comfort or out of fear that he would hit something otherwise. The slight extra pressure seemed to jolt him back out of his anger and he lowered his eyes. Ashamed. He never shouted at me.
I made my voice gentle. "Some memories aren't worth the keeping. Believe me, I have memories like that, ones I don't want to have to remember. If you keep everything bad that's ever happened to you, when do you have time to be happy?" I heard him breathe in sharply, and a glance at his face revealed eyes shut tightly and features momentarily scrunched oddly. Pain. I recognized it. I subconsciously stroked his hand. Even with the unholy amount of alcohol, the pain still fought through...but he did a fine job of trying to control it, and keeping from showing it. Pirates...I smiled softly despite the moment. They had to act so tough.
A chime signaled the opening of the door, and small footsteps shuffled in. Someone else, finally...we both looked at the same time and saw the young boy whose laughter had so often mingled with that of the pirate crew's in the bar. This time, however, he was silent, and seemed completely enthralled with watching his feet.
"Hello, Luffy," I called as cheerfully as I could manage.
The footsteps halted. He looked up, only then noticing the presence of the captain. In all my years of knowing children, never had I seen one look so guilty as Luffy did that day. He blinked frequently, and I knew he was trying to little avail to hold back threatening tears. Once he opened his mouth, likely to reply to me, but shut it back quickly--he could not make himself take his eyes from his injured hero.
One ability that I always wished I had was that of smiling no matter what. Faking a smile was one of Shanks' greatest feats, and something he achieved often; he did just that and waved slightly. "Are you okay, Luffy?" he asked kindly, though I noticed he tried very hard not to make eye contact with the child. And Luffy nodded, lower lip trembling dangerously. A moment later, he had turned to leave, sniffling loudly.
"Luffy, come back here." The captain slid from his seat and approached the boy, dropping heavily to sit on his knees at eye level with him. The smile was gone from his face. "I don't like it that you're looking so guilty."
"How am I supposed to look?" Luffy exploded with a fury to rival that of Shanks. "It is all my fault! Mine!" He beat a fist into his chest.
"You're supposed to look...not so...guilty?" I shook my head. Smiling not matter what was one thing, but eloquence was yet another. Luffy burst into tears.
"But it's all my fault!" he proclaimed again, making a half-effort to still his crying. I caught a quick glance from the captain as his eyes darted about the room, obviously looking to be sure no one was watching. And in a very uncharacteristic moment, he hugged Luffy as tightly as he could manage.
This was enough to send the boy into deep sobs that shook his entire body; he clung to the captain's black cape and wept into his chest. I put aside all my barmaid duties and watched, understanding that despite all his faults, Luffy was rather angry with himself. As I sat on the kitchen-side bartsool, I began to notice the captain's shoulders shaking ever so lightly. My eyes must have widened. A pirate captain crying? And especially him...it was impossible. Improbable. Highly unlikely.
Minutes passed. The scene did not change, and no one seemed to be any calmer than before. Some sort of motherly instinct told me that this was my chance to help, somehow, and before I could stop myself, I was marching to them, only to sink to my knees and put an arm around each of them in a caring hug. Luffy paid me no heed, but Shanks glared at me when I made an obvious effort to mind his injury. I returned the look and stuck my tongue out at him. He seemed to understand, and I was glad--tears still lingered on his face, but his smile had found its way back.
Luffy began to calm down, perhaps because I and the captain began to joke vaguely, or perhaps because he was sleepy. Whatever the reason, at some time we three ended up leaning against the bar, and eventually dozing off into a silent sleep and not awaking again until the sun dimmed the blaze of the candles.
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END. Love. Confetti. Why can't I write? I don't know. But I appreciate you if you sat through that hideous excuse for fanfiction, and I'd appreciate more if you'd kindle my ego and leave a review.
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Author's Note: Hi there! I've been around here before, but it's been ages, and I'm starting over with a clean slate and a new obsession. One Piece is grand. It is my current life. So I wrote a quickie ficlette, considering I haven't read/seen enough of OP to write a full-fledged thing. So enjoy!
Flames used for burning fruitcakes over an open fire. Be constructive if you're going to criticize me.
----
Wax Candles
A One Piece Fanfiction by Mango Pirate
"How did you get rid of the kid?" My eyes remained focused on the glass I wiped out thoroughly, unnecessarily. If I looked up, I feared I would stare. Be a good barmaid, I told myself. Just clean the glass
"He hasn't had much to say to me the past couple of days." The voice was hollow, tense, slurred only slightly by mass quantities of alcohol. How long had he been here? The sunlight that had shown merrily in the windows when he had stumbled into the bar was long since replaed by flickering red wax candles
"I bet he feels...guilty," I voiced, allowing myself to set down the glass and rag, picking up a mop and setting about cleaning the kitchen floor. Now the soap suds that spattered along the floor caught my attention, graciously holding it, unwavering.
"That's better than pity," he growled, and I cringed. "You won't even look at me." Would no one else come in for a drink? They had probably all seen that he was there, and left out of fear, or respect, or both. He slammed the empty glass down on the bar counter. I took a breath. Just him and me. I would have to watch what I said.
"I'm not giving you any more," I spoke firmly, purposely staring into his dark eyes and swiping the glass away from him. "Nor am I giving you any pity." I began to wipe the glass as idly as before, watching my hand holding the rag, watching myself expertly hold the glass steady and clean it.
"I haven't changed," I heard him mutter, and could not help as I glanced up at him from my dishwashing duties; he rested his chin in the crook of his elbow, eyes shut, breath heavy. I wondered if he was hurting. I took a seat on the kitchen side of the counter, just opposite him. He sighed. I sighed.
"You haven't changed," I agreed presently. He opened his eyes and looked at me from beneath the brim of his hat. Such distant eyes...was it alcohol or pain that gave them that glaze? I wanted to comfort him, but recalling his prior statement, I settled for meeting his gaze and placing a hand atop his. His fingers twitched. I assumed he was unused to a female's touch. But then, he was a pirate--I reminded myself that I could have been wrong.
He broke the gaze and the silence first, squinting his eyes shut tightly and allowing a low whisper of, "I must be crazy..."
"Very brave, I would say." I watched him, my eyes raking in the details of his appearance, how helpless he looked. Again I mentally reminded myself; he was never helpless. ...Was he?
Silence fell. Without specifying any details to his question, the pirate captain asked softly, "Is he okay?" Luffy, I knew, was the one he referred to. The child, the leech, the worshipper. I smiled faintly.
"Yes, he is. ...Because you saved his life," I added, and the statement seemed to amaze him. Perhaps it was hearing it from someone else, or possibly it was the first time he had though about it. Either way, his spirits seemed to lift a bit, and he sat up again, looking somewhat happier.
He glanced around aimlessly until again meeting my gaze. "I almost don't remember already. It's so strange. I shouldn't forget so soon."
"Isn't it better not to remembeR?" My innocent question was met with a flare of anger, and I cursed myself for allowing him to drink so much. He clenched his hand into a fist and frowned.
"A person shouldn't forget what happens to them! That's how people learn," he declared, and I cringed for the second time that evening. My hand remained firmly atop his, either in comfort or out of fear that he would hit something otherwise. The slight extra pressure seemed to jolt him back out of his anger and he lowered his eyes. Ashamed. He never shouted at me.
I made my voice gentle. "Some memories aren't worth the keeping. Believe me, I have memories like that, ones I don't want to have to remember. If you keep everything bad that's ever happened to you, when do you have time to be happy?" I heard him breathe in sharply, and a glance at his face revealed eyes shut tightly and features momentarily scrunched oddly. Pain. I recognized it. I subconsciously stroked his hand. Even with the unholy amount of alcohol, the pain still fought through...but he did a fine job of trying to control it, and keeping from showing it. Pirates...I smiled softly despite the moment. They had to act so tough.
A chime signaled the opening of the door, and small footsteps shuffled in. Someone else, finally...we both looked at the same time and saw the young boy whose laughter had so often mingled with that of the pirate crew's in the bar. This time, however, he was silent, and seemed completely enthralled with watching his feet.
"Hello, Luffy," I called as cheerfully as I could manage.
The footsteps halted. He looked up, only then noticing the presence of the captain. In all my years of knowing children, never had I seen one look so guilty as Luffy did that day. He blinked frequently, and I knew he was trying to little avail to hold back threatening tears. Once he opened his mouth, likely to reply to me, but shut it back quickly--he could not make himself take his eyes from his injured hero.
One ability that I always wished I had was that of smiling no matter what. Faking a smile was one of Shanks' greatest feats, and something he achieved often; he did just that and waved slightly. "Are you okay, Luffy?" he asked kindly, though I noticed he tried very hard not to make eye contact with the child. And Luffy nodded, lower lip trembling dangerously. A moment later, he had turned to leave, sniffling loudly.
"Luffy, come back here." The captain slid from his seat and approached the boy, dropping heavily to sit on his knees at eye level with him. The smile was gone from his face. "I don't like it that you're looking so guilty."
"How am I supposed to look?" Luffy exploded with a fury to rival that of Shanks. "It is all my fault! Mine!" He beat a fist into his chest.
"You're supposed to look...not so...guilty?" I shook my head. Smiling not matter what was one thing, but eloquence was yet another. Luffy burst into tears.
"But it's all my fault!" he proclaimed again, making a half-effort to still his crying. I caught a quick glance from the captain as his eyes darted about the room, obviously looking to be sure no one was watching. And in a very uncharacteristic moment, he hugged Luffy as tightly as he could manage.
This was enough to send the boy into deep sobs that shook his entire body; he clung to the captain's black cape and wept into his chest. I put aside all my barmaid duties and watched, understanding that despite all his faults, Luffy was rather angry with himself. As I sat on the kitchen-side bartsool, I began to notice the captain's shoulders shaking ever so lightly. My eyes must have widened. A pirate captain crying? And especially him...it was impossible. Improbable. Highly unlikely.
Minutes passed. The scene did not change, and no one seemed to be any calmer than before. Some sort of motherly instinct told me that this was my chance to help, somehow, and before I could stop myself, I was marching to them, only to sink to my knees and put an arm around each of them in a caring hug. Luffy paid me no heed, but Shanks glared at me when I made an obvious effort to mind his injury. I returned the look and stuck my tongue out at him. He seemed to understand, and I was glad--tears still lingered on his face, but his smile had found its way back.
Luffy began to calm down, perhaps because I and the captain began to joke vaguely, or perhaps because he was sleepy. Whatever the reason, at some time we three ended up leaning against the bar, and eventually dozing off into a silent sleep and not awaking again until the sun dimmed the blaze of the candles.
----
END. Love. Confetti. Why can't I write? I don't know. But I appreciate you if you sat through that hideous excuse for fanfiction, and I'd appreciate more if you'd kindle my ego and leave a review.
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