Day 11: Stories; Garp & Coby & Helmeppo
Time goes on and you have to go on too.
The thing they don't tell you about getting old is that everyone assumes you have stories to tell. And, well. he was Garp, the "Hero of the Marines". Grandfather of that pesky rising star pirate Monkey D. Luffy, and father of the terrifying Revolutionary Dragon, so of course he had stories to tell.
But, as he sat on the shore of Foosha Island, legs folded on the sand, how many of them were stories worth sharing? He'd seen so many things, met so many people. Telling stories about Roger got him in trouble, and… he didn't like to dredge up those memories anyway. Times were different then. Less fraught, less secrecy, less…just less.
Stories about Dragon just made his chest constrict. Sometimes in anger, after all what was with that boy?! Sometimes in sadness, and other times, the worst times, in pride. No one else but his boy would or could pose such a threat. No one else struck fear into the shitty celestial dragons and their stupid shitty everything. No one else could make world leaders quake in their boots and the common guy, the baker, the shoemaker and the candlestick maker, feel strong. But stories about Dragon would get him in trouble, and Dragon had enough on his plate.
And Luffy? Luffy. Garp sighed as a wave splashed up onto the shore, white bubbles and froth clinging desperately to the beach. What could he say about Luffy? Especially now? With Ace's body hardly cold. Ace, dammit Ace. Dammit Luffy. Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!
He slammed his fist into the sand, sand crabs popping up from below and scurrying away. He bit his lip, the horizon line blurring. Clouds and water and the setting sun a runny mess.
"V-vice Admiral Garp?"
He turned to look over his shoulder. Coby, his arm in a sling and dark bags under his eyes, was approaching, Helmeppo behind him looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. War sat on them like ill-fitting clothes. Something they had to grow into. Garp's stomach clenched and he looked back towards the horizon, the sun bleeding into red, red, red.
"Don't," he said as Coby reached his side and gingerly sat down. Helmeppo stayed standing, whether guarding Coby or wanting to bolt, Garp didn't care.
"Don't what?" asked the purple haired boy, and really, he was just a boy. Like Luffy, no wrinkles to speak of, still excited by the world, still finding his place in it. Like Ace. Garp's jaw twinged.
"Don't ask me how I am. Stupid question." Coby and Helmeppo exchanged glances, Helmeppo definitely in the "this was a bad idea and we should leave" camp now. Coby poked at the sand, going quiet. Another wave rolled in, the tide slowly advancing before sinking back into the sea. Like the world, taking a few steps forward, but always retreating back. Dumb, all of it. What was it for anyway?
He'd thought he'd known.
"I'm sorry," Coby said, breaking the quiet. Garp blinked and turned to regard him. The brat looked back steadily. "I'm sorry about… Luffy, and, a-and about Ace," he added gently. Something clenched so hard in Garp's chest that he wondered if this was the end at last. But no, he kept breathing.
He looked away again, back at the water. What could he say to that? He'd made his choice. He'd made his damned choice.
"You um, you…" Coby was saying something again.
"You wanna tell us about 'em?" Helmeppo piped up, dropping into the sand next to Coby. Coby gave his friend a smile as Garp regarded them both. Babies, just little stupid brats. Little dumb…
"When Ace was four, he took out a crocodile longer than I am, big scaly thing and there's Ace, scrawny and…"
The waves kept coming, the world kept turning. Time marching on and on, and so it goes.
Notes:
Garp never fails to hurt me.