It had been five hours. Five hellish, soul sucking hours since Commander Jonathan had woken up with glitter glued to his eyebrows and shame stitched into the very fabric of his uniform. His mind still hasn't recovered, but neither has his base.
Because apparently, every corner of his once pristine G-8 base was now covered with chaotic vines, damp walls, sparkly booby traps, graffiti, and other items that he dared not cross again.
Jonatham rubbed his temples as he wandered through the ravaged hallways, half limping and half dragging one glitter-drenched boot behind him. The corridors looked like a jungle with moss and vines crawling up the walls like nature reclaiming a ruin. Even water dripped from the ceiling, soaking into old documents and forming puddles that smelled slightly of citrus.
He truly wanted to scream. Or retire. Or just crawl into his bed and pretend the entire ordeal never happened.
The worst part was that his bed was ruined. But that was not the only thing. His uniform was still soaked in that disgusting blend of glue, water, and whatever the hell the 3Cs had mixed into that glitter bomb. And it was pink—sticky, clingy, radioactive Barbie-core pink. Not that he had anything against pink, it was just humiliating that the clothes are now ruined.
He can't even change out of the fucking abomination because all his other clothes were far more cursed. They were ruined with mud, moss, and what looked like mold growing out of his captain's cape. His undershirt even had a vine growing through the sleeve. And his other boots had been filled to the brim with ink.
Truly, he didn't even have the energy to feel mad anymore. He was just… done.
He leaned against a vine-wrapped wall with a sigh, not even caring that it was wet. After all, what was the point even?
Only five hours and in that time, all he'd seen was disaster recovery failing at every turn. His subordinates were awake now, bustling about like girls in pink, some frantically scrubbing glitter off the walls, others tiptoeing around boobytraps, or pressure plates, trying not to activate whatever fresh hell the 3C's had left behind.
But honestly it was all pointless and Jonatham knew it very well. The whole base had been gutted from the inside out, leaving nothing much to salvage.
The officers were drenched, covered in glitter, and pink. The archives were destroyed, some even had moss growing on them. The shipyard was destroyed, with the ships being out of control. Even the scant library had been turned into some twisted maze of floating books, levitating via strings and residual water.
But there was something that still baffled him in all this chaos. The kitchen and infirmary were untouched. Well, not untouched. The supplies were neatly rearranged. And while several food crates and medical kits were missing, everything else had been left in place. Even organized with tiny notes of recipes and instructions written on them. It was like whoever raided the place had manners.
That's what was throwing Jonathan in a loop.
The 3C's were demons, notorious to their name, sure, but they didn't act like this. Not usually. This level of precision, this restraint, it just didn't fit the chaos they always left behind. They usually pillaged every room, set traps in every corner, and destroyed the expensive P.P.P. products, and even rewired most of the electronics to explode. So, why were the essentials, which were usually ransacked or messed with, spared?
Commander Jonathan truly didn't have an answer to this. All he had were questions and increasingly itchy glitter rash.
But why G-8?
His base wasn't special. Not publicly, not privately. They did not have any top secret scrolls. No treasure. No weapons buried beneath the floorboards. Just an average outpost for average marines in a cliff-locked stretch of sea.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, which now had a giant smiley face painted in neon green seaweed and signed "With love, 3C's" with a heart or two in shell fragements.
"Damn you, 3C's.." he muttered.
And as if summoned by the name alone, the memory of the morning resurfaced, clear as the sun now shining mockingly through the cracked office window, seemingly teasing him.
As soon as he'd seen the three ships, the Strawhat's ship guided by two other vessels, slipping silently from his harbor, he'd known. He had known that it was the 3C's. So, he hadn't even waited, he'd grabbed the Den Den Mushi and called Marine HQ.
"The 3C's were here." He'd hissed through gritted teeth, trying to wipe glitter off the snail's face. "G-8 has been compromised. Demolished." He paused for a moment, before sighing. "They left us, ruined."
Several questions were asked, before came several phrases of curses and then–"...Reinforcements are on their way."—before they disconnected.
Jonathan had laughed out loud at that.
"Reinforcements? As if there was anything left to reinforce."
The 3C's weren't a wave to hold back, they were a storm that had passed through and now Jonathan had to stand amid the wreckage of what was once his pride, soaked in pink goo and existential dread, wondering if he should retire and take up gardening instead.
.
Sengoku had woken up that morning with hope, thinking that his day would be absolutely great. After all, he had finished his reports the night before, with every file signed, every stamp placed, every last incident log sorted and cross-checked. Even his desk, for once, was spotless.
He had just wanted to have a free day today, wanting to stand on his balcony, with his beloved goat beside him and a warm cup of tea in hand. And later go on a stroll, away from all the chaos and work.
That's why today was supposed to be his day off. With peace and serenity.
But then, he should have known better than to jinx himself.
It was 6 a.m., sharp–he hadn't even woken up by that time–when his personal Den Den Mushi started screaming with urgency.
"Commander Jonathan, G-8 base. Emergency report. The 3C's were here."
Sengoku's first reaction was blank, with his mind trying to process what the hell was the commander saying this early in the morning. But when his mind was capable, he fell into a blinding silence, not because of shock, but because he knew somewhere deep inside him that it was coming. The 3C's have been far too quiet after Arabasta, where they had infamously crashed into civil war, burned through both sides, and somehow came out as heros of all things.
And gods, didn't that sting? The way even the World Government had to begrudgingly accept that the 3C's saved a country from being lost to civil war. The fact that the civilians were singing praises of them. The fucking chance that maybe the king of that country might ally with them.
But now they were fucking back to their usual business of destroying marine bases. This was the chaos which makes them notorious, and make the Gorosei breathe down his fucking damn neck to capture those freaking brats.
He sat down on his desk–the one he thought he wouldn't have to for today–with a grunt, already massaging his temples before Jonathan even finished his report.
"G-8 has been compromised. Demolished," the commander croaked, his anger visible in his tone. "They left us ruined."
"Elaborate," Sengoku had asked with gritted teeth, already wanting to just disconnect the call.
"Vines, water damage, sabotage traps, graffiti, bobby traps, some sort of… glitter based explosives."
Sengoku sighed, knowing it was definitely them by now.
"Any casualties?" He asked with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and reached for a cup of tea he hadn't made yet.
"None. Not a scratch except being… humiliated. But the base is non-operational. And.." The commander seemed to hesitate and Sengoku could already feel the headache pulsing behind his eyes.
"..Commander?"
"We believe the Strawhat pirates were involved. Possibly taken hostage. All I could see was two unmarked black ships guiding them out of the port."
And that was when his good morning had officially exploded and blasted into bits. Even when he reassured the commander that he would be sending reinforcements, and even when he started going through the full report, he couldn't feel relaxed anymore.
Not when the Gorosei were on the line within an hour, enraged and pressurizing.
"We can't let them go this time. Send two admirals after them this instant," they had ordered, leaving Sengoku baffled. After all, dispatching the admirals after them was an extreme response, but by this time, it truly was required.
"The 3C's," one of the elders continued coldly. "And possibly the child of Dragon. We need them all alive."
Sengoku could feel a chill settle in his bones at the last word. There was something in the way the elder said that made it seem like there was something that he is not privy to. But what could make the elders want Strawhat Luffy alive? Was it because the guy refused to be a Warlord? Or that he is the brother of the possible child of Gol D. Roger? Or that he has the backing of a supernova and damned revolutionaries?
..Whatever it was, Garp ought to be worried now.
"SENNY!!!"
Speak of the devil, and shall he come.
Sengoku's left eye twitched as Garp entered his office, breaking a wall once again.
"GARP! For the last time, will you ever come through the actual door?!" Sengoku questioned, the pounding in his head increasing with every passing second.
But Garp? He didn't care, he just strolled in, wearing that usual grin of his, and with maddening casualness, sprawled atop a spare chair, casually munching on a packet of rice crackers, leaving the crumbs all over his paperwork.
Sengoku had barely opened his mouth once again before Garp burst into laughter after taking a glance from the paperworks. "Heh? That's what got you all twisted up?" Garp snorted. "You're panicking over the 3C's again? I thought you were used to that by now!"
"They destroyed a Marine Base," Sengoku's eye twitched.
"Isn't that what they always do?" Garp laughed.
"GARP! IT'S COVERED IN VINES AND IS SOAKED THROUGH!" Sengoku was literally screaming now.
"Could be worse," Garp merrily shrugged, hiding his anger behind his goofy smile. "Could be covered in corpses." Which was something that could have definitely happened if Luffy was found dead in the base. He knew something had gone horribly gone last night but he hasn't been called up yet, meaning that his grandson should be fine.
Sengoku glared at Garp so hard that even the Den Den Mushi on the table flinched, but Garp wasn't finished laughing.
"Garp! Your grandson has been taken by those 3C's! He was seen leaving between two black ships! Prisoner or not, that's not a good look," Sengoku stated, hoping that this would at least make Garp understand the severity of the situation.
But the unexpected happened. Garp howled in laughter, laughing so hard that he even fell off the chair, as if he had been told the funniest joke ever. It almost seemed that the old 'slacker' of the marines wasn't even worried, almost as if Luffy, that troublesome brat wasn't even his grandson in the first place.
Sengoku wanted to cry. He wanted to give up now. 'God.. Gorosei.. Please let me retire soon.'
"This is a serious situation, Garp," Sengoku groaned. "The Gorosei ordered to dispatch two admirals to find clues about the attack and track the 3C's down."
"Why send two admirals after those brats? That's a bit too much, isn't it?" Garp asked, finally a tad bit serious… and sounding a bit worried?
Sengoku sighed again. Deep, from the chest, the kind that came with decades of being the fleet admiral in the era of Pirates and chaos. "Because the 3C's are slippery bastards and if they've captured the Strawhats, or if they're helping them, it's going to cause waves. Big ones. That's why the World Government wants this contained before the press gets wind of it."
"But late for that," Garp snorted, standing up. "The damn birds of Morgan must have probably delivered the news before the backup even got there."
"That's true, but this time we will make a comeback by capturing the 3C's and Strawhat Luffy," Sengoku stated with a serious face. "Akainu and Kuzan have aready set off."
"Akainu?! Why the hell is that mutt on this mission?!" Garp gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at the thought of either of his grandsons going against that bastard.
"No change, Garp. I'm–"
Garp didn't wait for Sengoku to finish. He just stormed out of the office, probably worried about his grandson.
Sengoku sighed. "..Can't wait for retirement."
.
The sea stretched endlessly, a shimmering canvas of blue and white, with sunlight dancing across every wave. And on it, three ships–The Going Merry, The Piece of Spadille, and the Wind Granma–glided across in harmony. With their sails full, their flags snapping proudly in the warm breeze, each about to depart in different directions, and yet nobody wanted to leave.
The Revolutionaries were supposed to go. After all, the meeting with their commanders had been made official. The war against the World Government and P.P.P. would begin soon. The curtain was about to be drawn open, and the Wind Granma had to return to the hidden base of Baltigo to prepare for the storm that would shake the entire world.
The Spades wanted to stick for a while longer, vibing with their little one, but the truth was they had to leave too. To explore the deeper, wilder parts of Paradise before braving the New World once again, but well.. Ace hadn't moved from his spot all day and he wasn't planning to, either. At least not until someone sensible kicked some sense into him.
And the Strawhats were technically on the clock, with the log pose already pointing towards a new island, and if they didn't get moving soon, they'd have to wait for a while before the log finally pointed to some other island. But Luffy, who's the captain of the ship, who usually gives the final word on leaving, also hadn't even ordered anything such yet.
Instead, on the Merry's main deck, a circle had been formed with blankets that had been thrown down, with snacks being passed around, and in the center was Luffy, comfortably perched on Ace's lap, with his legs draped over his brothers with no intention of moving. His complexion was a tad bit better by now, but neither had his eyes yet reverted back to the chocolatey brown everyone was accustomed to, nor had his hair color changed back to completely black. Though, the latter was easily hidden when the strawhat rested on his head.
"–And then the sky just went red! Like blood red, the same one when Halad was pissed," Luffy was grinning widely, his cheeks were flushed with energy, and mouth moving a mile a minute as he waved his arms around to illustrate some grand moments.
"The winds were screaming, and the clouds wanted their revenge! And I was all free!" Luffy leaned back, his hands flailing excitedly with each passing moment. "To beat up Enel who was claiming to be the God of the Sky. But Nuh uh! That's my brother! Not him! So, I knocked him out with a single punch!"
Sabo let out a low whistle, humoring his baby brother. "That's my baby brother!"
"Uh huh!" Luffy mimed the punch with dramatic flair.
"Wait, wait, wait! Back up!" Bonney interrupted, her eyes wide in excitement as she leaned towards Luffy, nearly falling, only to be steadied by Sabo, on whose lap she was resting. "You said the winds screamed?! As in.. you heard them?"
Luffy blinked at her like it was obvious. "Yeah? They're kinda loud, always chattering away."
Usopp, who'd just walked up holding a tray of sandwiches, paused mid-step. His usual grin flattering and his gaze landing on Luffy, leading the tray to tilt slightly. Because there it was again. The guilt. The helplessness. The fact that he didn't even know that his friend, his captain, was going through a lot… and he was busy hiding.
Though, Usopp could see that Luffy looked fine on the surface, talkative, loud, energetic as ever, but Usopp could clearly hear him stumbling on his words, nearly falling over if not for Ace to always steady him, the pale flush which was only increasing with every adversity, the slight tremble in his fingers when he waved too hard, and his smile, bright as ever, sunny as the day, but never quite reaching his eyes. He could clearly see the tiredness looming over him.
Luffy hadn't recovered yet. Not really. And he could do nothing.
While away from the laughter and noise below, where the chaos of Luffy's storytelling mixed with Usopp's dramatic imagination had enchanted everyone listening.
Robin stood looking out towards the sea, her expression serene and calm, but her eyes were alert, and her mind spiraling on the dump of information she had received. After all, who could have thought that her captain, a god, was also the son of the Most Wanted Man? And now said man, along with the towering figure of Barholemew Kuma, was approaching her.
Robin turned and smiled gently. "I was wondering when you'd approach."
Dragon gave the faintest twitch of a grin. "You're as sharp as they say, Nico Robin."
"I try," she replied coolly, leaning against the railing.
There was a beat of silence before Dragon leaned against the railing beside her with his arms folded and looking towards his sun. "You've made your choice," he said, not questioning, not even challenging, just a statement.
Robin looked towards her captain. "I have."
Dragon exchanged a glance with Kuma, then back at her. "Kuma had already told you, but I would still like to offer you a place with us."
"You can study about the poneglyphs freely, if you ever ask for it," Kuma spoke, his voice soft and with a smile on his face.
"Thank you." Robin's hands folded at her front, turning to face them fully, her expression unreadable for a moment before softening into something rare. "But I am content where I am. For now," she answered. "With the Strawhat pirates. With Luffy."
"I understand," Dragon answered, already knowing the answer.
"Besides," Robin murmured to herself, her voice low but audible to them, "why would I leave the man who's shaking the world just by being himself?"
"You sound like a revolutionary," Kuma spoke with a smile, his lips curving knowingly.
"No. I am just a historian following the most dangerous story of all."
.
Nami was standing with her hand on the rudder, steadying the ship, even if there was no need for it for now. But she needed it. She needed it. The breeze tousling her orange hair, the sea air prickling at her skin and the clear view of the others on the deck. Especially Luffy. Laughing, goofing off, eating, alive.
As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't died.
But it wasn't something that was out of the ordinary by now, was it? Because after every fight Luffy would fall, his powers being too much for him. But all those times he would get up. He would get back on his legs and smile that stupid smile of his.
Except this time. When his heart had stopped beating and his body had gotten cold. Nami's jaw clenched. Her knuckles turned white against the rudder. Luffy was glowing again, not literally but he was smiling so wide it could tear his face. His laughter was ringing out, loud and stupid, like it always did.
She wished she could laugh with him. But the image of him, pale, coughing up blood, kept coming back. The way he had gone still and she had felt her world stopping. Had felt that one more person she cared about dying right before her eyes. That was trauma.
She was getting tired of it. Tired of seeing Luffy put himself into danger, even if it was technically only the beginning of their journey. She couldn't feel herself getting accustomed to it. Not to the sight of Luffy dying, not the possibilities of a future where he never came back.
And then there was Vinie! The name Luffy whispered fondly, thanking her for returning him. She still didn't know who or what that was. Or what it even meant. Or if it was something they needed to worry about now or in the far future. Or if that Vinie was on their side or could turn against Luffy. And that made her itch all over.
.
While in the medbay, it was quiet. Too quiet. With Chopper quietly sitting on a stool beside his workbench, his hooves curled around a vial of blood and his eyes oogling it.
It was Luffy's blood, the one he had taken just before everything had fallen apart. Before Luffy had collapsed. Before he took his last breath. Before his heartbeat stopped.
Chopper hated how his hooves had trembled when Luffy fell. Hated how all his medicine had done nothing. Hated how he just stood there, shaking, with tears blurring his vision, too slow to do anything else, except scream. He was a doctor. Yet now it sounded like a joke and he felt like a fraud in a hat.
Turning the vial over in his hooves again, he could feel its weight becoming heavier and heavier, not in weight but in meaning. Because this wasn't just blood, it was a challenge, and a failure. His failure. That Luffy had died and he had been useless. He had been helpless. Zoro, Sanji, Nami and Luffy were looking at him and yet he couldn't do a thing. He couldn—
"No, I can't cry," Chopper hiccupped, wiping his tears. "I have to be better," the little reindeer sniffled, reaching for a notebook, scribbling a line to take notes, observations, and writing down new theories.
He would find out what had happened. What almost took him from them. And then he'd make sure it never happened again. Not to Luffy. Not to anyone.
He'd create cures for every illness, every curse, every unseen sickness the world could throw at them. He'd become the greatest doctor in the world, and not just to say it but to prove it. To earn it.
.
The kitchen of the Going Merry was filled with the savory aroma of garlic, sautéed onions, and freshly grilled fish.
Sanji, with his sleeves rolled up, and brow lightly dusted with sweat, was moving gracefully between the counters. With a cigarette dangling from his lips and a pan sizzling on the stove, he was deep in his element, cooking for not just for his crew, but their guests as well.
It was keeping him focused, anchored, and away from everything else. It was giving his mind time to process at least something.
But this focus, this concentration, was broken with a hesitant shuffle entering his territory. Sanji didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. Not after hearing the heavy, uneven giant and the awkward hovering.
"Oi, marimo," Sanji grunted around the cigarette, not even sparing the mosshead a glance. "If you're gonna just stand there staring, grab a knife and help."
There was a beat of silence behind him, before Zoro let out a reluctant grunt, "Tch, whatever," And moved up to the cutting board with a blade in hand–definitely not one of his swords–and started slicing vegetables.
It was silent for a while, except for the rough, fast, no finesse, uneven chopping of Zoro, but Sanji let it go for once. For a moment, there was only the crackle of the stove, the clatter of knife against vegetables, and the occasional bubbling of broth.
Up until the chopping board split clean in half beneath Zoro's hand.
"The hell?!"
Sanji turned, his eyes wide. "You dumb musclehead! Fucking control your damn strength!" He aimed a light kick to Zoro's shin, more annoyed than angry.
Zoro didn't even react to that. He just stood there as Sanji grumbled angrily and pulled out a new chopping board. But when Sanji reached over to hand it to Zoro, he paused, his eyes going slightly wide at the scene of Zoro's hand trembling.
Sanji blinked, before his own eyes landed on his own to find it doing the… same. He sighed low and frustrated as he handed the board to Zoro.
They returned to chopping, slower this time with silence stretching between them once again, but longer and heavier. Pissing Sanji off. Until the silence from the damn swordsman compelled him to snap.
"What's your deal. Mosshead?!" Sanji muttered without looking.
Zoro grumbled, trying to play it off, but Sanji wasn't about to let him off now.
"I said talk. Don't grumble at me." Sanji said, clearly frustrated by now.
There was a moment's pause, before Zoro finally spoke, his voice low and rough. "I was gonna tell you about that. Which I avoided telling anyone. About Luffy."
Sanji stiffened for a fraction of a second, before he cut him off sharply. "Don't. Not just to me."
Zoro looked over, clearly surprised.
Sanji didn't meet Zoro's eyes, he just kept chopping. "Whatever it is, the whole crew deserves to hear. We were all there, directly or indirectly. We all… saw it." His voice dropped a little at the end, as the whimpering and bloodied face of Luffy reemerged in his memories.
Zoro's calm facade crumbled, and he stopped his knife mid-cut and rubbed a hand down his face. "Right, yeah… the entire crew deserves to know. It's just.. my mind has been all over the place. Since you know.. last night."
Sanji's lips pressed into a thin line as he nodded with a slight grim expression. "I get it, but you should tell the entire crew if this is about Luffy, and about.. about what happened."
Zoro looked down, noticing the way Sanji's hand was trembling the same as his. But neither of them mentioned it. Neither of them would be able to sleep soundly tonight either. Neither would get peace until they knew what was going on, to make Luffy live and stay.
But for now, they cooked together, preparing lunch in a more comfortable silence.
.
"And then, I kid you not," Usopp was saying dramatically, gesturing widely, "this GIANT sky lobster came outta nowhere and snatched Luffy like he was a snack!"
"No! That wasn't what happened," Luffy said with a goofy grin, still lying flat on Ace's lap, with his arms sprawled. "The guy just wanted to see me!"
"But that thing picked you up, chomping on your butt!" Usopp retorted, laughing.
Bonney nearly choked on her apple juice from laughing. "That's what you get for roaming around, being Nika!"
Ace, wiping tears from his eyes, was about to respond when a familiar coo echoed from above, making Luffy squeal "BIRDYYYY!" and spring up with the force of a little gremlin, nearly knocking him backward.
The News Coo, instead of squawking away in fright, landed right atop Luffy's outstretched hand, who scooped up the newspaper from its pouch while handling a piece of bacon and a hug to it in exchange.
"You're da bestest, birdy!"
The bird gave a long happy squeak and nibbled Luffy's cheek affectionately, like it was used to this by now, before flying away.
"You got a newspaper for free?" Ace blinked, already holding onto Luffy, who flopped back down with the paper in his hand, sprawling over him once again.
"Yep!" Luffy grinned, waving the newspaper at his face, making him freeze. And the others too, the moment they saw the front page.
"CHAOS AT G-8: THE 3C'S STRIKE AGAIN!"
The bold headline screamed across the page, complete with blurry, chaotic photos of glitterbombed Marines hiding their faces, but unable to hide their confused scowls and pen-drawn mustaches. Some were even busy trying to wash off the ink, but it would have clearly smudged it further. Others were seen forlornly gathering debris and supplies with defeated expressions. The G-8 base behind them looked like a haunted, abandoned ruin.
"Pfft! Look at this guy!" Ace laughed, pointing to a Marine clearly in a ballet costume, which had to be indeed someone from his group's work.
Sabo snorted. "They look absolutely done with life."
"And they still called it an emergency!" Bonney doubled over with laughter.
"Shishishishi! It was fun! Look, Usopp! The graffiti you made is still there!" Luffy giggled.
And below that very same article were ads from P.P.P. almost as if they were having an identity crisis, occupying every corner of the page and thereafter. Like literally, they had ads for everything. From handcuffs, to unbreakable doors. From glitter removal polish to other metals.
But one of them was something new, something which hasn't been posted before. A new product.
"INTRODUCING THE FUTURE OF WARFARE: 3PM-THE STRONGEST METAL KNOWN TO MAN, EXCLUSIVELY FROM P.P.P!"
"I wanna break it already!" Luffy grinned mischievously at the new challenge thrown by the P.P.P..
The next page had the final kicker of the news, which had almost everyone frozen.
"Marines have deployed two admirals, and the Hero of Marines to hunt down the 3C's. Please notify your nearest marine base or officer if you see the Strawhats ships surrounded by two ships with unrecognizable flags." Ace read for everyone.
There was silence for a moment, before Luffy slowly rolled onto his back, the paper flopping over his face. "Guess it's time to go," he mumbled, knowing that he can't fight the admirals right now, if caught. Or protect his crew.
Bonney groaned and flopped onto her side, facing him. "This sucks! I wanted to spend more time with you, while mooching off Sanji's cooking."
Ace gently tugged the paper off Luffy's face and ruffled his hair, seeing his pout. "Hey, we'll see each other soon. In the New World."
Sabo nodded. "Can't exactly take down the World Government alone yet. But do lay low, you little idiot."
"But–" Luffy pouted, sitting up slowly, lower lip wobbling dramatically.
"No god mode," Dragon said sternly, having overheard the conversation.
"Wha–"
"Say with me: No. Going. Nika. For. Luffy." Dragon repeated, picking Luffy over from Ace's lap. "Say it with me, Lu."
Luffy pouted, crossing his eyes, before finally giving up, when even the winds, clouds, his mama, asked him to promise. "No going Nika for Lu."
"Don't you break your promise, otherwise I'll come running to bonk you, understood?" Sabo stated, getting up while picking Bonney.
"..Won't." Luffy pouted, hiding behind his dad's broad chest.
Everyone finally relaxed at that, grinning. And as they gathered at the edges of their ship, ready to depart, Sanji appeared with Zoro, handing out neatly packed lunch boxes for everyone to take it with them.
It was time to leave. And yet the hugs were long and the goodbyes dramatic. Clearly no one wanted to leave yet. But they had to.
Bonney gave Luffy a bear hug. Sabo gave him a back hug, while Ace gripped Luffy's hand firmly and leaned in close. "Remember what we said. No reckless glowing god mode. We need you alive, alright? And no showing off using haki, just like we told you before."
"Silly Ace, I know!"