Author's Note: Random drabble-ish thing typed when I should have been working. Ehem.
Disclaimer: One Piece does not belong to me.
He walked, feet slapping against the gravel. He was barefooted and the cool breeze tickled his toes. The sky gleamed above him, a blanket of deep violet, sprinkled with stars. The moon was full but dim, a faint light among the glaring stars. The gravel crunched beneath his feet and scrapped at his skin. He plodded along the narrow path, listening to the rustle of the grass that grew along the path. He inhaled, and the chill air sucked into his nostrils filled his lungs. He swung his arms by his sides. His sleeveless shirt hung open, its yellow buttons twinkling brightly. Faded pants, rolled up at the edges, were scruffy and loose threads stuck out from the frayed material. His skin itched slightly and he scratched his arm, picking at the dirt.
He listened to his footsteps for a while, and how they sounded, a steady yet careless tread. The cloth of his clothes whispered as he moved; a soothing interruption to the rhythm of his footsteps. His breathing was slow and heavy, as he tended to breathe deeply. The hiss of air as he inhaled and exhaled joined the duet of his movements. The grass hummed along and the breeze trilled softly. He was noisy, it seemed, though all around him, it was quiet. His surroundings swallowed the sound and expanded it outwards until he couldn't hear it anymore. A bubble of noise hovered around the area closest to him, a shield against the silence, covering his skin like armour.
His eyes saw the colours and they too, strengthened the shield. There was green for the grass, brown for the patches of dirt showing through the grass, a blue of sorts for the sky, the dim orange moon, the purple of the sky, and in the dark, he could make of a few stray weeds poking out of the gravel, perhaps red in the daylight, but pink in the night. The colours soothed him. Even at night, the world was full of colour, muted sometimes, yet clearly at others, but they were still there.
He was hungry and that led to the lack of energy. Sighing, another sound that boomed in his ears, he paused. Unmoving, he stood and listened to nothing. Looking all around him, he was glad he could still see all the colours. He felt like he should wait, and get his energy back so that he could look for food. His stomach growled, alerting his ears, reminding him that he was not deaf. It was only for a brief moment, however, and soon it was all silent again. He stared at the colours, wondering if he was done waiting. But he still felt tired. And hungry. So he guessed that he should wait more. He sat down to help with the waiting, and after a while, lay down. On his back and moving his head around to see the colours, he couldn't hear anything. Only one sound, fading as his chest moved up and down slowly.
His fingers tightened around a red piece of ribbon, and he lifted it above his face, to mix in with all the other colours that he could see. The red spread from the ribbon to his hand, to his arm and downwards. The red dripped. He stared at the colours, blinking to make sure he could see them clearly. They blurred as water sparkled in his vision, the droplets reflecting the light that wasn't there. His eyes filled, and the colours were no longer there, and he drowned.