What He Means To Us: Garp
"Gramp's, is justice as important to you as me?"
"What? Where would you get a hair-brained idea like that! Idiot!"
"Ow! Gramp's!-"
"- Quit your whinin'!"
"-But! Gramp's!"
"Are you back-talking me?!"
"-No!"
"Good! Now, go and beat that ape!"
"Fine!"
He failed.
He's failed so many times, through no one's fault but his own. The look of the people he loves and the people he's sworn to protect (it either being awe, fear, admiration, disappointment or hate) doesn't faze him anymore. He's used to the disappointment in his family's eyes (if he even has a family anymore), and the adoration and respect in other's eyes. It used to fill him with pride, but now it's ashes in his mouth- the thing that could have been different if he'd only chosen right.
Garp The Fist -former Marine War Hero, savior of law abiding citizens, and fear of many pirates- sighs.
Training still goes on outside the barracks, and he would be out there making sure they aren't goofing around like most of his previous trainees did. He grins, but it falls short at the reminder that he's not going to see them anymore. Other than... ("Gramps!") if that's even a given anymore.
Idly, Garp thinks, staring at the ceiling with his head tilted back. People call him a hero, or they use to. Now, sometimes, he'll cross people on the street whispering about 'traitor!', instead of 'hero!'. Maybe it suits him more now.
Once, on his way to a local bar, the sun beating down on his back, people whispering and a few children gaping in admiration and awe, to which he smiled, a woman -young, reminded him of Makino in ways- had a frown, a look of disgust across her face, much like Dadan wore that time ("Why did you let Ace die?!"), stuck a finger in his face and gave him a what for that would've made his wife proud.
She said -screamed, really. But with women, they always seem to be yelling at him- "You're a disgrace." Her face was disgusted and sad after that, like she was truly grieving for pirates she didn't even know- maybe she did, brat's never told him anything.
It didn't take him long to figure out who the grief was for.
"You let- you let them kill your grandson! He died! Because of you! Your other grandson- Straw Hat Luffy! A pirate! Is more of a man than you'll ever be!" She was crying by then, angry tears streaming down her cheeks, a smattering of freckles beneath the salty grief.
"What kind of man stands by and watches his family die- all because of what they see as justice!? Some pirates are more humane than you are! You're a monster!" and with her honey hair tied back, she spat in his face. At that moment, she reminded him of Rouge.
The woman was staring him down in a fighting stance, sloppy, but lively. Other Marines were approaching them, unaware of what had occurred while a group which had stopped to stare, surrounded them, too afraid to agree, too afraid to protest. Garp said nothing.
He dismissed his fellow Marines when they demanded to know why there was a crowd, he quickly glared at the crowd, daring anyone of them to say anything. They offered no resistance. He remembered saying that it was his mistake. He bumped into her, and not to tell 'the boss' -the man he dreams about killing- because it was his fault and she was only having a bad day. One of the recruits heard the speech the carbon copy of Rouge gave, while the others were blissfully unaware. The woman said nothing, only stared with angry, red eyes, and tear stained cheeks.
Later, he had to talk some sense into the boy later that night, who screamed and yelled on the verge of tears, that he was a hero, and all he did was protect the world from pirate scum. Garp doesn't know how he refrained from knocking sense into the boy, probably because the brat was barely into his teens. Maybe because he was reminded of black eyes, freckled cheeks, a world-sized grin, a mischievous smirk, and two familiar names.
It was eerie how it sounded so like himself at that age, so much like the new Admirale now. But he grinned, despite fighting back tears and bile with the smell of burning flesh- something he has smelled from time to time before- that is now the smell of his grandson, accompanied by the smell of burning rubber, and said the woman would change her standing in time, without their help, and that training was to begin earlier than usual.
The boy whined, but happily complied with a grin and a promise not to tell.
At this time, Garp began to wonder about when he became such a liar.
His son's happily grinning younger face, full of pride and respect and admiration, the face of a child who still thought his father hung the sun and the stars and protected the world with his fist of justice, flashed across his mind.
He's been a liar for a long time.
If Garp had to say what hurt- what really hit close to home- it was when White Chase Smoker (the boy who was rumored to be at the late Pirate King's execution) and him had a chat at a bar they both happened to be at the same time.
Locals kept a distance from them, crowding back and whispering among themselves. The rest of the locals were outside celebrating a festival with the muffled sound of the nightlife outside the bar's walls. The moon was even blocked from entering due to the shades that were coated in a thick layer of dust, shielding them from the world outside.
The only bartender there -being an old man with grey hair ruffled and overalls under an apron-, was nice enough, and gave them both privacy. Though it was clear he didn't trust them a bit - he kept glancing at them both with a squinted-stare and a frown hidden somewhere underneath his pale beard.
White Chase didn't seem to care, sipping his whiskey without a glance at anyone or anything other than the walls in front of him. Garp didn't care either, deciding it wasn't worth his time or effort to start a conversation with the man. Smoker spoke to him first.
"There's not been any sign of Straw Hat or his crew, some of the higher ups think they're gone for good," Garp remembers that the dim lights flickered above them as the man paused to down his shot, banging it on the bar and ordering another a second later.
"I don't buy it," Smoker said in a way that was strong and determined, without a single doubt in his mind that that wasn't the end of the Straw Hats', and that anyone who thought different was stupid for even giving it a thought.
Garp gave him a side-way glance.
The way that the man known to tag after his idiot grandson in hopes of bringing him in, eyes were focused on the wall, it sounded like a desperate reassurance to Smoker himself. It seemed as though Smoker was attached.
It wasn't as surprising as it should have been.
Garp remembers hiding a brief grin behind his shot glass, opting for a few words instead of riling the commodore up.
"Yep. That brat doesn't give up easily. But you already know that White Chase, never has and never will." He remembers the burn as the whiskey went down his throat.
A companionable silence fell over them, mingling with the muffled sounds of the festival and soft murmurs of the few locals occupying the bar who stopped staring at them suspiciously, seemingly finding something else more interesting.
Garp thought that the conversation was over, something neither would speak about again; something both would never acknowledge again. It didn't happen that way. Instead, Commodore Smoker finished his newly poured shot, and said words he'll never forget.
"Portgas D. Ace was the Pirate King's son." Smoker said firmly, thankfully not mentioning the way Garp froze. He was either unaware of how his fellow Marine froze, or maybe he didn't mention it out of respect or dislike. Garp still isn't sure.
"But he didn't deserve to die like that."
Smoker's eyes remained fixated on the wall in front of them, whiskey shot in hand while simultaneously keeping enough distance so his shoulder wouldn't bump into Garp's own.
White Chase didn't stop after that.
"And Straw Hat didn't deserve to see it."
Garp didn't sleep that night. And he didn't deserve to, not when one of his grandson's were, is still haunted by a death he couldn't prevent, and has bloodied hands which should have been Garp's own.
If someone -the carbon copy of Rouge, with Makino's characteristics, or Commodore Smoker, or even some random person- were to ask him what the brat means to him (meant even, to which he would laugh and knock some sense into them), he would have to tell what the brat means to most people, and in the woman's case, what he means to (perhaps) strangers.
First and foremost, the brat's a brat; nothing less. He does what he wants, when he wants it, and doesn't listen to anyone- he doesn't care; the naivety of a young person who doesn't realize that they're as mortal as anyone else- the D's blood aside.
Which might be partly Garp's fault- he did spoil the brat!
"No! No- Gramp's! It's dark 'n scary down there!"
"Bwahahah! You'll be fine!"
Secondly, the brat's a miracle to people. Garp's heard about how many people think that the Straw Hats' leave miracles in their wake. And that, Monkey D. Luffy -son of Dragon, grandson of Garp, and leader of the Straw Hat Pirates'- is the embodiment of a miracle.
Garp's not sure how to feel about how the brat showed him that he can manipulate the world itself to bend to his will, except for a few select moments.
The biggest ones- the ones that mattered the most.
Marineford.
Thirdly, the brat's almost as bratty as his father when it comes down to interfering with the World Government. Though he's got more spunk about it than Dragon- whose head goes fast, and plans too quick, though the man can get reckless; courtesy of his loving Papa and the D's blood within him. And due to his mother's genes.
Lastly, what the brat is to him?
"I'm not gonna be just a pirate, I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"
"I'm not hurting you! Just- mooovvvee!"
"Ace?..."
Well, Garp knows he could say a lot of things about what the brat means to him. He could say that the brat was his last redemption to his family. He could say that the brat's -along with Ace- is his failure as a Marine, who should have been able to prevent his grandsons from ever dreaming to be pirates. Kids dream, and what good grandfather tries to destroy that? One that tries to prevent fighting those very same grandchildren.
But, when faced with the D's stubbornness -when you know you can't change a damn thing, failed last time, how is this time going to be any different?- a good grandfather keeps his hope, but still trains hisbgrandchildren to be able to hold their own against him- against the world, because, heartbreak is Garp's old friend, older than Sengoku, and Luffy and Ace (and Sabo), weren't meant to be a Government's puppets.
He could say the brat's a failure, and scum beneath his boots.
"Shishishishi!~ Happy birthday Gramp's!"
Or he could tell the truth. That the brat's his grandson, and no matter what he does, Garp's always going to love him- that Garp has his own pictures of when the brat took his first steps, and that Garp dreams of a different outcome at Marineford, involving a dead him, or dead 'boss', his magma fist melting the ground instead of his grandson's chests.
Garp could say a lot of things; but... he's a liar, and a grandfather, and a father who messed up, so instead, he waits quietly-
"Bwahaha! I catch any of you slackin' off and there'll be no dinner tonight!"
Silent faith, like any grandfather would do.
Garp empties the box of crackers above his mouth, thinking about how that tactic always worked on Luffy. Still probably would.
"Aye, aye, Mr. Garp!"
And waits for the storm to come back and shake the world to its very core.
A/N:
Beta'd by: psychotriton
Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece
Per request from: Arxhaelologist. I hope it turned out alright. I was indecisive about throwing in the first part due to not knowing if it would be ooc for a young Luffy. Some of the quotes above I've created on my own, or have read or watched from the manga and anime.
Also, I know I may not always respond to your reviews (due to my forgetfulness, or having thought that I messaged you before) but I do appreciate the reviews, and am delighted each time someone bothers to take time out of their day to do it for me. And that I have over a hundred follows and favorites! (Sorry, it just shocked me to realize that.)
-Monkey D. Anea