Luffy felt conflicted

On one hand, he was grateful that everyone had been worried about him. The thought of it made him feel fuzzy and warm.

On the other hand, they were annoying the hell out of him. They walked on eggshells around him, smiling gently and talking softly. Usopp didn't drag him into ridiculous games and risky dares and Nami didn't get angry at him either.

Hell, even Sanji's kicks felt half-assed!

The only one still the same was Zoro. After the hell that had been his first breakfast getting up after the fight (having to break the ice all over again with them), he'd been expecting grief-filled glances and blabbered apologies.

Nope.

He had gone to wake up the sleeping swordsman, Zoro had been on watch over the night, and found the man ready for him near Merry's head. Eyes closed, Zoro had asked. "Did that answer your question.

Luffy had been momentarily stumped by the trite question before he remembered, the words ringing in his ears.

Just how strong are you?

Luffy had felt a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he said, the continued easiness between them surprising him, "thanks...Zoro."

And just like that, things were okay between them.

"Your Observation Haki will keep getting stronger on its own, no training needed," Zoro had said, visible eye gazing up at him from his perch on the ground, "so it's time to move on."

"Oh?" Luffy had said, dropping down opposite the green-haired man, "to what?"

"Armament Haki", Zoro had said, lifting his now ebony hand.

Luffy had clasped the dark hand, marveling at the coldness. "What does it do?"

"It is armour, but that is also not quite true." Zoro had mused, "armour cannot be used to strike back at with."

"It is a physical representation of one's will." Zoro's voice had been quiet but at the same time had seemed to carry great distances. "A man on death's door could shatter a mountain to rubble with Armament."

Here, Zoro had chuckled. "That is not to say that just wanting something is enough. If that were the case, then every single tantrum-throwing toddler would have it." The swordsman black armour had spread up to his elbow at that point. "You must yearn for it with every fiber of your being. You must need it."

Luffy cocked his head to the side, thinking of Ace and Gramps. "But I've needed it before, when I lost fights."

"A high stake fight everything, and I mean everything, on the line?" Zoro had questioned.

"No," Luffy said, scratching his head, "I guess not."

"My teacher always said to give it a physical representation, he was fond of a brass padlock," Zoro had explained, "with every battle it will rust and crack, real fights with emotional consequences obviously doing more to it, until it shatters and you unlock Haki."

And, as they drifted towards some island near Alabasta, Luffy and Zoro had begun to spend most of their days training.

It was hell.

A hundred times worse than any of Gramp's training.

In fact, Luffy laughed in the face of Gramp's training now.

In its face.

Spending a week alone in the forest as a toddler?

Pfft.

Try spending all day sparring Roronoa Zoro.

Now, that was hell!

Everyday, his aching and sweaty muscles screamed and writhed in protest as he tossed himself back at the swordsman.

Aching muscles. That was a new and unwelcome experience. Being rubber since the ripe old age of seven, he had never properly experienced muscle fatigue. Ace had always often joked that nothing in the entire damn world would tire him out if Gramps couldn't.

Ace, in that respect, had been utterly wrong. Perhaps. If you ignored his musings on how he didn't deserve to live (utterly stupid that they were), the most wrong Ace had ever been in his entire short life.

Because Roronoa Zoro was on another level.

Every day since that fateful conversation, Luffy had thrown himself at the older man ever day. He lost every bout by a mile. Didn't matter how much he switched up his strategy, alternating between fakes and jabs. Or how much he used his speedy up and bone growing powers, now dubbed Gear Second and Gear Third for simplicity's sake.

Roronoa Zoro only stood there and smirked his damned smirk and blocked it all, not a single hair out of its perfect place.

It was, he admitted, disheartening to say the least.

Sometimes, between bouts, he considered just stopping the sorry excuse of training. After all, he's already plenty strong. He could go back to his carefree days of just adventuring, knowing that his natural strength would be enough for him to win. Except...that wasn't quite true, was it? All he had to do was remember how utterly hopeless he had felt at Whiskey Peak and his resolve was hardened.

No, the training was a necessary evil. He could never feel that desperate and weak again. He wouldn't. To be truly free, one had to be strong enough to stand tall as the world threw everything it had at you and to be able to throw twice as much back.

And he had sworn he'd be free. Sworn it overlooking a vast ocean to both his brothers, the grieving one beside him and the one cruelly taken from them. Sworn that he would never stand idly by and let the world sweep away his dreams in its relentless cruel current.

Emboldened by the thought of Sabo and Ace, the rubber teen kicked off from the ground in the horse stance. His limb pumped, sending the blood ricocheting through his groaning veins, He snarled as he outstretched his arm, blurring through the air faster than the eye could see it. Zoro only smirked, he'd been doing that a lot lately, and held out a Haki-infused palm.

Luffy hissed as the attack was deflected, the skin ripping from his knuckle. He licked at the injured hand, shooting the perpetrator a scathing look. Zoro only laughed. "Still no luck with the lock?"

In a moment of great mental fortitude, Luffy shot him the finger. "You know damn well there isn't."

And wasn't that a kick in the teeth?

He had easily imagined the lock in question: a proud gleaming golden behemoth in an otherwise empty and swirling vortex. He could tell that power lay behind the lock but he couldn't seem to damage it at all. It seemed to taunt him with its smoothness, basking in its lack of blemishes and marks.

Luffy thinked that maybe, just maybe, that the metal seems less vibrant somehow as he imagined it. Less polish? Near invisible scratches? But then he would focus and stare in dismay at how perfect it is.

Zoro ran a hand through his hair. "Don't worry too much about it," he said, "real battle and, putting it bluntly, mental trauma are what really will break it."

In a rare display of frustration, Luffy stamped the ground. "Then what's the point of this?"

"To protect them."

And on that sombre note, their training resumed.

Because how was Luffy supposed to argue against that?

It was midday a few days later when Sanji came to them. The blond cook strided across the deck towards them, a scowl on his face and a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. Zoro noticed their spectator first and made to end the match. The swordsman grabbed Luffy's leg and casually hurled the squawking teen over his shoulder.

Luffy dusted down his shorts as his body rolled to a stop and he eyed the confrontation warily. "Sanji," Zoro said as the cook stepped in front of him, "can I help you?"

Sanji glared at Zoro, but the wariness and anger was mostly gone from his eyes. "I think I got this Observation Haki stuff down pat."

Zoro cocked an eyebrow. "Impressive, if that's true. Close your eyes, would you? I'll test you."

Sanji obliged and Zoro walked a few steps away. The green-haired man began rooting through a crate, coming away with a bunch of Usopp's caltrops. Luffy winced as the sun's light bounced off the wicked sharp edges. "Ready?"

"Born ready." Was Sanji's cool reply.

It went better than Luffy expected.

Sanji easily dodged the first ten or so, swaying to and fro. "Nice," Zoro commented absentmindedly as he picked up the tempo.

Zoro began throwing two at once, the metal whizzing by faster. Within seconds, the air was swollen with gleaming metal.

Sanji cursed and jumped, three caltrops imbedding themselves in the wood where his legs had been a second previous. He twisted his body in mid-air, looking like he wa participating in some grotesque mockery of Twister, and Usopp's weapons rushed through the openings of his long limbs.

With a satisfied smirk, Sanji landed lightly on his feet. He lit up a cigarette, sensing correctly that Zoro was out of caltrops. Behind him, one of the caltrops smashed against another and was sent flying in a new direction. The bladed edge of the caltrop cleanly slit his cheek, droplets of blood staining the wood behind his feet.

Luffy let out a bubble of laughter at Sanji's bug-eyed stare. It was too funny!

"You did good," Zoro said, his lip twitching, "shouldn't have let your guard down at the end though."

"Oh, shut it!" Sanji snapped, striding forward with a scowl."So?"

"So?" Zoro mimicked.

"Can I start the next step of my training or not?" Sanji's voice was tight, his anger barely hidden.

Zoro shrugged, the simple action seeming to ignite Sani's fury even more. "I suppose so," Zoro said, "oi, Luffy. Get over here."

Luffy scampered over, weaving through the caltrop-littered floor. "Yeah?"

Zoro jabbed a finger a the ship's resident cook. "Spar him and then I'll teach him the lock."

Luffy blinked. Once, then twice. Had he heard that right? He was to fight someone other than Zoro? The implications took a second to reach his brain.

Spar with Sanji.

Thus, not spar with Zoro.

Thus, escape hell.

Luffy's arm shot up faster than he knew it could. "Yes sir!"

WIth a grin, he slipped into Gear Second and shot towards the wary cook.

He trounced him with glee.


Little Garden was exactly as he remembered.

A loud and exotic jungle, with trees that nearly touched the sky. A volcano that seemed to outstretch even the behemoth trees, it's dangerous peak casting a shadow down upon anything and everything. A river, wider than it had any right to be, cutting through the middle of the jungle lost in the annals of time.

The incessant chirpings of the island's many insects were only offshot by the distant groans of the dinosaurs and the ominous rumblings of the oh so very active volcano.

A crack of twigs, a rustle of bushes, and a blur of yellow gleaming eyes.

Yubashiri rose and fell in a spray of blood

The triceratops fell down, its eyes glazing over, and Bushido pressed on. He mentally berated himself for not noticing something that big and burly sneaking up on him, it was hardly a prowling jungle cat.

But then again, he couldn't really blame himself. He hadn't noticed in his first run through of the island, and by god that felt like eons ago, but Observation Haki was useless here. Well, that was being melodramatic but it held a kernel of truth. It would take a few days for his mind to get used to the island.

Every single voice was new. Old forgotten and extinct species, their presence new and foreign, fought and clamoured for attention in the forefront of his mind. Hundreds of them in an crescendo of information, blocking everything else out. Add in two giants whose presence dwarfed everything besides him, Luffy and Sanji and you got one hell of a headache. He could barely keep track of the crew and Vivi, presences he was intimately familiar and comfortable with.

Baroque Work agents? Forget it, not a chance in hell.

Then again, they weren't exactly a threat. There was the guy who had explosive boogers and the girl who could make herself heavy, both could be taken out in a single punch by before him and Luffy. Then there was the wax guy who fancied himself a genius and who had ended up with Buggy and his partner...his partner. And that was the real source of Bushido's worries, Mr. 3's partner. He couldn't remember her, and he had a funny feeling it was a girl, she was a non-entity.

And non-entities were a cause for worry.

But, he reflected as he entered a clearing, he had more important things to worry about coming up. Something he couldn't put off for much longer. Something he had to plan for.

Mock Town. Teach.

He couldn't rely on his faded memory of Jaya. Memory was a fickle beast that could easily bite the hand that fed it if you relied on it too heavily. The sword sang as Bushido pulled Wado Ichimonji free from its white hilt, the sunlight glittering off the polished fatal metal.

So, he'd just have to refresh it.

He let his mind wander and instantly the memories of his previous life consumed him.

Mock Town. Teach.

He focused on the memories, commanding the river of time to his will.

Mock Town. Teach

He repeated the mantra inside his head, soft chants escaping his lips. Trickles of the disorienting memories began to flow around him, begrudgingly falling under his will.

Mock Town. Teach

Save Ace.

Save Luffy.

The flood of rushing memories marched to the drumbeat of his will and he was whisked away from Little Garden.

He now stood in the disorganised rabble-filled pirate town on Jaya.

He began to observe his past self walking down the street with Luffy and Nami.

He never noticed the small girl with the paintbrush and palette approaching his real body.