Vulnerable

Characters: Shachi, Penguin. Rating: K+. Warnings: Minor Injury

Contrary to popular belief amongst his nakama, Shachi was all too aware of his comparative frailty. In the New World, an inability to properly utilise armament haki left him the pirate equivalent of a sitting duck in the face of the heavy hitters the most dangerous sea in the world boasted. More than once, Law had told him off for treating such a severe handicap with such frivolity, but Shachi never stopped making light of it.

After all, there was no real life if you spent the whole time living in fear. It was worse if you were fearing for each other, so he tried to lighten the mood whenever his nakama ventured to mention it, distracting them from the fact that he was by far the most physically vulnerable of the crew. If they didn't dwell on it for too long, they couldn't get too scared by it.

Shachi himself spent much of his free time training. Building his endurance, his speed, and honing his observation haki because if he couldn't take a hit his best shot was to avoid getting hit in the first place. But sometimes, there was no way out.

He sensed it coming; a solid mass of muscle hurtled its way towards him, wrapped tightly in armament haki and promising pain, at the very least, if it connected. For something with so much meat behind it, it was faster than most, and while normally Shachi could neatly sidestep the charge before counteracting with a swing of his katana, the battle had been going on a long time.

The problem with his high-speed manoeuvres was the strain they placed on his legs, and no matter how much training he did, there would always be a limit. Exhibiting a case of worst possible timing, his left leg hit its limit right then, as he prepared to dart sideways out of the line of fire. His ankle turned, crumpling his leg with it and sending him stumbling down, still straight in the path of the attack. Steeling himself with gritted teeth, he pulled on all the armament he possessed – a laughably small quantity that couldn't even bring the slightest discolouration to his skin – and prayed he'd survive the blow.

Closing his eyes and looking away wasn't in his personality, and so he saw in perfect clarity the moment Penguin stepped in front of him, his own teeth grit in a determined face he only ever showed when someone was hurt, and caught the blow on his shoulder. It sent him back half a pace from the force of it but it took a bare half-second for him to recover, sending a punch back at Shachi's attacker's face and connecting with a satisfying-sounding crunch.

"Can you stand?" Penguin asked, turning to face him just enough to reveal the black fading away from the shoulder where he'd taken the blow. Privately, Shachi groused that he certainly wouldn't have been still standing and capable of offering a hand to someone if it had been his shoulder the attack had struck.

"I'll manage," he said out loud, trying to grin but feeling his face pull into more of a grimace than anything else. He took the proffered arm and hauled himself bodily to his feet, balancing on his good leg with only tentative weight on the injured one.

"Don't push it," Penguin scolded quietly, and Shachi felt a warm weight press against his back as the older man shifted position so they were stood back to back. Despite his crying ankle and the ongoing fight, Shachi managed a wry smile.

"No promises."

Thanks for reading!
Tsari