Brutal

Characters: Law, Shachi, Penguin. Rating: T. Warnings: Blood, description of injury

There was no such thing as a 'no name' pirate crew in the New World. There were still tiers, of course, ranging from the Yonkou and Shichibukai to the Supernovas of their varying generations, to the veteran crews that took their time to pass the Red Line and the crews that didn't quite reach the hundred million bounty before their entrance, but every single one had a history that only required brief research to reveal. Even those formed in the New World were quick to gain infamy, mostly because they spawned from one of the Yonkou territories. Independence from such beginnings was an impressive feat in its own right (although it was rumoured that Akagami no Shanks was less sticky-fingered when it came to fledgling crews).

The Heart Pirates knew this. It was one of the admittedly many reasons for their own delayed crossing of the Red Line as they hung back to gather the final research on the current crews sailing the New World and bolster their own abilities before entering the most dangerous stretch of ocean in the world. By the time they finally ventured past Fishman Island some months later, they were far stronger than they had been at Sabaody. Law was confident that they'd no longer need to form unsavoury truces with unwelcome parties in order to at the least deal with one of the Kuma Clones (although the pirate himself was still another matter).

These facts combined to result in their current situation: a battle between the Heart Pirates, freshly into the New World at last, and a crew from the previous years' Supernova delegates. On paper, they were evenly matched, but paper rarely reflected reality. Experience was a teacher that could not be mimicked, and the Heart Pirates were at a distinct disadvantage, enhanced by their smaller crew size.

Law gritted his teeth, Kikoku bathed in blood as he endeavoured to save his stamina with minimal Rooms. There were too many to simply Amputate in one go, and exhausting himself would both make him a clear target, but also advertise his fruit's drawbacks to the world. They were disadvantaged, but as he kept as much of an eye on his crew as he possibly dared he could see that they were adapting well, working together in groups rather than attempting to fight one on one. Law himself had Bepo watching his back, the comforting wordless cries of the Mink a constant reassurance as the tide of the battle slowly swayed in their favour.

It would be too easy, too much like the protagonists in any fighting story, if they overcame the odds just like that. Law had never considered himself a protagonist.

"Penguin, move!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Law saw a flash of beige, the streak of green and orange betraying it as Shachi, diving towards his nakama and shouldering him out of the way even as a haki-coated fist blasted into his stomach. Armament haki had never been Shachi's specialty, and what meagre resistance he may have generated was annihilated as if it had never existed.

"Shachi!" Penguin screamed, recovering his balance with a roll away from a sword that meant to separate his head from his shoulders and leaping back to his feet, charging the culprit with his spear in hand. The opposing pirate grinned, revealing many missing teeth, and charged up his haki again defensively. Unlike Shachi, Penguin's specialty was armament and his spear pierced through as his offense overpowered the enemy's defence, disabling him instantly (honestly, from the way he fell like a stone Law was fairly sure the man would never rise again).

Shachi was still on his feet, unmoving for several long seconds. Law watched him in horror, frozen in place as his brain automatically catalogued the damage – there must have been something more to that punch, a simple haki-enhanced punch would never have done that much damage – and faintly heard Bepo behind him as the Mink intercepted a blow aimed for the back of Law's head.

Oh so slowly, Shachi moved, his katana slipping from limp fingers as his hands travelled to the bloody mess that was supposed to be his abdomen. Behind his shades, Law got the impression of a single blink.

"Ow," he said dumbly, blood spilling from his mouth and dying his teeth a mottled red before staining his lips and chin. Then he crumpled.

It was as if the world had slowed down. First his knees buckled, legs folding in on themselves as they lost the ability to remain locked in place. His torso followed, arms seemingly floating upwards ever so slightly before gravity shackled them with a violent tug, crashing them into first his torso and then the ground. As his head succumbed to the fall his hair remained suspended, playing around his face as if he were underwater before following the weight of his body to the ground. His hat slipped off in the process, settling all too lightly on the bloodstained ground beside him. The finale was a simple crunch as the impact proved too much for Shachi's shades, shattering the lenses and distorting the frame to reveal eyes lightly closed, as if he were only sleeping.

"SHACHI!"

At Penguin's anguished cry the world abruptly regained sentience, the sounds of the battle crashing over Law all at once as his limbs obeyed subconscious orders to get to the ginger's side. Penguin was already there, tentatively unfurling as much of the crumpled form as he dared to get a better look at the wound. The time for thoughts was long past as Law sacrificed his hoodie – his favourite yellow one with the black hood and three-quarter length sleeves he'd worn on Sabaody – for Penguin to use to staunch the bleeding as best he could even as he generated a Room to assess the damage.

They were in the middle of a battle. Leaving his back undefended to tend to the wounded was suicide, but all Law could think of was how quickly the yellow material was turning red, how Shachi's skin was already several shades lighter than it should be and still paling rapidly.

How Shachi was dying.

It was only once he'd stabilised him as best he could with field medicine that was of barely any use at all, expanding his Room in preparation to teleport them directly into the Tang's infirmary where he could work properly, that he realised his crew had manoeuvred themselves into a protective circle, defending his and Penguin's backs as they worked.

The battle was lost, Law realised. With the crew no longer on the offensive at all, they would be hard pressed to turn the tide back into their favour, especially with three of the strongest fighters down or otherwise occupied.

He sacrificed small boxes, barrels, anything not necessarily a requirement for their ongoing journey, and Shambled the entire crew onto the Tang. The sudden change wasn't good for Shachi, as the ginger was jostled slightly on landing and Penguin lost his grip on the now blood-drenched hoodie, but Law had at least ensured he landed on an infirmary bed, getting straight to work in his home domain.

There was no time to give his crew orders, to tell them to put the Tang into a dive and escape before they were followed, but someone must have kept their head in the panic, because the next thing Law noticed outside of his desperate surgery was the roar of the engines and the rising temperature signifying a racing dive.

He shut the distraction out, too busy with his hands buried too deep in Shachi's abdomen as he desperately pieced the stomach back together. He refused to let Shachi die.

What use was the potential for medical miracles if he couldn't use them to save his nakama?

Someone wanted a prequel to Vigil (chapter 2), including Shachi's 'last words' so... enjoy? The Heart Pirates (and Law) were not as prepared for the New World as they thought they were...

Thanks for reading!
Tsari