Chapter Text
Bon Voyage! Leave behind the remains of our past;
I’m sure we can still laugh no matter what comes.
If it were to make our dreams come true,
there would be no regret
The news came to Law as any other did—an announcement in the papers and the imposing rumour mill.
“Did you hear? The Pirate King, Straw Hat Luffy, is dead!”
It was as if heaven had collapsed on itself, abandoning humanity. As if the seas receded to the abyssal plain, leaving nothing but the ugly, hollow depths of an unknown darkness. As if every known fact was disproved overnight, overturning reality.
That was the effect Straw Hat Luffy had on the world.
It was the last that Law would hear about Luffy before his name eventually started being uttered in that distinct tone of a legend. People used to talk about Gol D. Roger in that tone. Of the sun god, Nika. Of Joyboy. And now, of Monkey D. Luffy.
Law was shocked at the time, but ultimately, it didn’t surprise him. He once had to perform surgery on Luffy. It was during that time that he’d learnt of Luffy’s rapidly decreasing lifespan depending on how much care Luffy took of himself.
Clearly, he didn’t.
That evening, Law purchased some potatoes and peas to pair with the week-old fish he thawed to cook for dinner. And a bottle of whiskey.
“The Calm-Calm Fruit?” the nun asks, when Law finally manages to track it down. She looks at him so differently from the nun in his memories. Her eyes are narrowed, lingering on his earrings, his tattoos, his sword. Her shoulders square, like she is ready for whatever Law may do to her. “We don’t have it. Please leave.”
“Room,“ Law says, foregoing any pointless arguments. The blue dome expands over the church, and the nun freezes in place. Within his room, Law knows the workings of everything. The nun’s heart rate skyrockets, her breathing getting shallower. Law scoffs. “It seems my reputation precedes me. I’ve been on this island for almost a month now. You must’ve heard in advance that I was after the Calm-Calm Fruit.”
The nun turns to him slowly, all blood drained from her face. Her mouth opens and closes, but no sound escapes it. She’s gone mute from fear. Even without Conqueror’s Haki, Law finds some people are easily frightened by him to the point of replicating its effects. He didn’t intend for that, but it’s too late to ask her questions now.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not just a pirate. I’m a doctor. I’m not in the habit of harming innocents,” he says, but her breathing only gets more laboured. She’s begun to shiver.
Law dispels his room with a sigh, realising he’ll get no response from her at all anymore, let alone answers. He turns away from the church and the nun.
“I’ll be back later.”
He gets the snail call after barely three hours of sleep.
“They asked where you were, Captain,” Bepo tells him over the snail. “Just like you said they would.”
“And?” Law asks, voice husky from sleep. It’s far too early for this bullshit, but Bepo is calling from the East Blue. Night must've already fallen there by now.
“I didn’t tell them anything.”
“Good.” Law yawns into the receiver and scratches his bristled cheek. He needs to shave. “How was the rest of the funeral?”
“It was very sad. Everyone cried so much that I couldn’t stop myself either.”
Of course, they did. Law thinks of Luffy. His sunshine laugh and wilful nature. He saved many people, Law included. “And the body? Any visible injuries he must’ve died from?”
“Nothing I noticed… Just…” Bepo says slowly, his voice wavering, “I never thought I’d see him so still. He seemed like someone who’d live forever. Everyone at the funeral said so.”
The window rattles from urgent rapping, and Law sees the News Coo waiting for him to retrieve the morning newspaper. Carrying the transponder snail with him, Law opens the window and tries to take the newspaper, but the gull nearly pecks him. Peeved, Law relinquishes his berries and tucks them into the proffered bag around the News Coo’s neck. It hands him the newspaper with a shrewd look in its eyes before flying off.
He should’ve messed with its feathers.
There’s a rustle somewhere. Law unfolds the paper. The front page is splashed with a picture of Luffy’s body, his face lifeless and dull, as if the universe believed that Law requires more proof to trust Bepo’s words.
For days since Luffy’s death, the papers have been overflowing with news of the Straw Hat fleet requiring to spread their forces to protect all the islands that were under Luffy’s protection till then. Law remembers Whitebeard’s death spawning a similar wave of violence years ago.
For Luffy, it’s something different. Several pirates and Marines want to take advantage of his death to do the things they could not before, but there are just as many who strive to uphold his legacy.
“Captain? Captain, are you still there?” says another voice now. Penguin. Law hums into the receiver to confirm his presence. “How much longer will you be at Rolling Yard? Are you going to another island soon? Won’t you come to Swallow Island?”
Someone whines distantly.
It’s been a long discussion for a while now. Most of the Heart Pirates have decided to settle on Swallow Island after Law’s decision to take a break from piracy came about. A pseudo-retirement, if you will. He knew how much it would affect the crew and gave them all the option of staying there. Wolf knows how to put people to work and keep the income stable, so Law knows they’ll be fine.
They just keep expecting Law to be with them, too. And he can’t allow himself that yet.
“Maybe,” he replies—a compromise. “You guys take care. I’ll…”
A gasp, and suddenly, Law can’t ignore the annoying little sounds that keep needling him. He narrows his eyes and searches around his room, sensing no presence, harmful or otherwise.
“Captain? What is it?”
“…Nothing. I’ll keep in touch,” Law says, cautiously scanning the worn dining room of his rented little house. “I’m hanging up now.”
“What? But—”
Law cuts the line and spins on his heel, heading to the corner of the room where his desk inconspicuously stands. There’s nothing off about it, but Law feels uneasy. He starts rummaging through the drawers immediately, pulling out whatever papers and instruments he stuffed in there when moving in. Kikoku is leaning against the table and gets knocked over in the process.
Law moves to retrieve it from the floor, placing his scalpel set on the desk surface before stooping.
“You sure do have a lot of knives.”
For a moment, Law doesn’t even notice that familiar voice. He checks under the table, only to realise that he is supposed to be living alone. Startled, he knocks his head against the underside of the desk, the suddenness of the impact shooting to the base of his cervical. He hisses.
“Ouch! That sounds painful!”
Law gasps when he manages to free himself from under the table, scooting against the floor to face the intruder in his home.
“Who the fuck—” Law growls, only to stop short at who he sees standing—or rather, floating—behind him.
It’s a familiar face from a few years ago. Someone who took the world by storm and left it the same way, far too recently for Law to comprehend yet. He bears the same image, mostly. Taller. Or maybe that was the effect of him floating.
Law’s wide eyes remain glued to his face, blinking rapidly. “Straw Hat-ya…?”
No, it can’t be. Luffy died several days ago. Bepo and the gang were just at his funeral.
Luffy stares at him, straightening mid-float, even though his feet still don’t touch the ground. Law now notices that his body is quite translucent, like he’s only a realistic projection.
“Straw Hat-ya? Who’s that?” Luffy’s eyes widen a little as he talks.
You are Straw Hat-ya.
The words don’t come out as nonchalantly as Law wants. They don’t come out at all. He stays speechless, rooted, head spinning. The spot he bumped against the table begins to pound. Is he going to faint? No. Absolutely the fuck not. He is not going to humiliate himself that way, no matter if he hasn’t eaten breakfast and has a perfectly good excuse for it. No, he just needs to sit down. He needs to breathe.
Law shakily pulls the nearest chair closer and sits down, gulping in air and exhaling slowly while Luffy continues to chatter away in the background.
“This place is kinda small, huh? Is this your house?” he asks, flying around as he pleases to examine what little space Law lived in. “Where’s the food? I’m hungry!”
“Hungry?” Law asks, finding it so bizarre that his hyperventilation eases. “Can you even eat? You don’t have a body!”
“I don’t?” Luffy looks down at himself, his eyes almost popping out. He reaches out to touch the floor lamp, which passes through him as if he were made of air. “You’re right! What the hell?! What am I? Wait, who am I? And who are you?”
Furrowing his brows, Law studies Luffy’s form. It’s without a doubt him. He’s wearing an open red button-up, the bottom of which is half tucked into a pair of black denim shorts, and his usual sandals, but his iconic straw hat is missing. Could this be what Luffy was wearing when he died? Or is it just something he feels comfortable in?
Why is he trying to accept this impossible situation? He’s clearly hallucinating.
“Hey, who are you?” Luffy—the hallucination—asks again. “Do I know you?”
Law keeps his mouth pressed in a line. After a second, he resolves to ignore the hallucination. He gets up and rushes to the bathroom to wash his face. When that doesn’t work to dispel the illusory image, he moves on. If he gets out of the house, maybe it’ll go away. He hurries to get dressed, ignoring the offended exclamations of the hallucination, and steps out into the living world with increasing desire to get out of whatever mess he found himself in.
After a while of walking with no more blabbering following him, Law peeks behind him. There’s nothing there except a smattering of people here and there, ready to start their day by opening shop, or walking to their destinations, or to buy the day’s groceries. It’s a normal sight that Law has become accustomed to over the past few weeks. This is by far the most peaceful island he has taken temporary residence on.
It was, anyway. Hopefully, it’ll go back to that.
He stops by his regular breakfast spot, and the gruff middle-aged woman at the open counter raises her eyebrows in surprise. “This is rare, Trafalgar. I don’t usually expect you until noon. Sleep that bad last night?”
“It’s always bad, Jess.” Law pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. “I need breakfast before I deal with the rest of the day.”
“Right. Well, since you’re early for once, you can actually try the pancakes fresh today,” Jess says, a hard grin carved on. And Law really does love those pancakes. They’re thin, crisp on the outside and savoury since they’re made of potatoes; a traditional breakfast item of Rolling Yard. “Here you go. Don’t eat them all at once. You’re bad at pacing yourself.”
“Whatever,” Law says, quickly throwing a few hundred berries on the counter before shoving one pancake into his mouth. He chews, keenly examining the rough way she digs three fingers into her trapezius. “You’d better get some muscle relaxants for that shoulder. It’s not going to get better without some help when you keep straining it. And not in this weather.“
Jess frowns at him. “…I’m not giving you free food for your advice.”
Law snorts. He reaches into his coat to pull a pen out of his shirt’s chest pocket and hastily scribbles a few medications on the tattered menu in front of him. “You’d have to pay me in a year’s worth of pancakes if you’re even thinking of my consultation fee.” He pushes the prescription to her. “First one, twice a day after meals. Second, once daily. Consider this a favour and don’t overdo it. Doctor’s orders.”
Jess rolls her eyes, shooing him away even though Law is already walking away by that point.
Rolling Yard is an island of perpetual winter. It isn’t always snowing, but it’s almost always dim. This early in the morning, the sun won’t be up for another four hours. At least Law can’t call it a lifeless island. The people are headstrong and brawny, giving little rest to their muscles and too much rest to their brains.
Law finds an empty bench looking out at the largely empty harbour. Men carry bulky packages to and from ships, and a few pirate ships are docked, their flags and sails drawn in to avoid attention. As he chews on another potato pancake, Law wonders who these locals remind him of.
Out of nowhere, a head appears in front of him, and large teeth close around the last pancake that Law is holding, including his hand. Law nearly jumps out of his skin, eyes widening, and drops it. He chokes, struggling to swallow whatever he has half-chewed. It slides down his throat painfully, the stuffiness nearly suffocating him.
“Aw, I really can’t eat anything…” Luffy says, and thank god that’s the case, because if it wasn’t, Law doubts he’d still have his right hand.
“Straw Hat-ya!” Law growls, anger filling him once his life is out of danger. “What the fuck! If you weren’t dead already, I’d be killing you, right this second!”
Law hasn’t seen Luffy in years, but he remembers the type of man Luffy was. He knew how to snap back or laugh things off. One or the other was his preferred response to anything. Now, though, Luffy stares at him blankly, somewhat empty.
“So I’m really dead?” he asks. It’s not soft, not sad. Just a question. “Where’s my body? Can I go back into it?”
He’s unused to this version of Luffy. Law sees the way he depends on Law for answers. This man has never depended on Law for anything before. Even when he was dying after the Marineford War, it was Law who’d voluntarily gone to save his life. As much as he hates to admit it, even to himself, Law is the one who had always needed Luffy’s help.
This is new. It feels like something Law owes him.
“You’re dead,” Law confirms. He can’t beat around the bush. Who knows if that would keep Luffy here longer? “Your funeral just took place. Your body is in the East Blue, but I doubt it’ll help even if you do return to it. It should be six-feet underground by now.”
“Where’s the East Blue?”
“Far away.”
“Then why am I here?”
“I don’t know.” Law dusts his hands, the oil from the pancakes leaving his fingers greasy. He’ll have to head home now. “And honestly, Straw Hat-ya, you should head off to see your crew instead. There’s no point being here with me.”
“My crew?”
It occurs to Law then—really hits him—about how Luffy lost his memories. The one thing he always prioritised was his crew. They were the most important people in the world to him. Law doesn’t understand a Luffy who doesn’t recall his friends. He stands in awkward silence for long enough that Luffy changes topic.
“Why is my name Straw Hat-ya? That’s a really weird name.”
“That’s just something I call you.” Law sighs and massages his forehead tiredly. He has a mild headache now. He forgot this usually happened around Luffy. “Your name is Monkey D. Luffy.”
“Then why don’t you call me Luffy? I like that better.”
“Because,” Law pointedly intones, “we’re not friends. And you never called me by my name either.”
“What’s your name?” Luffy asks, no recognition to be seen. He’s the picture of eternal youth, and Law understands what Bepo meant when he said Luffy was the type of person to live forever. Bright laughter. Bold declarations. Selfish and free. He was meant for the skies.
‘Torao!’
Law’s Adam’s apple bobs around a swallow. “Law,” he answers eventually. “You might as well call me Law, if you want me to call you Luffy.”
Luffy is just as chatty in death as he was in life. Being a ghost doesn’t stop him from constantly talking, asking questions, and commenting on everything Law does. Rolling Yard is one island that Law knows the Straw Hats haven’t visited yet. If they had, the locals would be talking more about them. Luffy’s word is completely unreliable since he’s an amnesiac.
“Do you stay inside all day?” Luffy whines. “It’s so boring here.”
“And it’s cold outside.” Law tuts, ironing a new set of clothes. He’ll have to take off his coat when he enters the church, and being presentable may make him less intimidating. “Not that a ghost can get affected by the weather.”
“I don’t think the cold bothered me even when I was alive, so there!” Luffy sticks his tongue out at Law and whirls around the room with all the freedom of someone whose actions have no consequences. Although Luffy was like this in life too, anyway.
“I recall the cold affected you as it did anyone else,” Law says, rolling his eyes. “And stop talking to me. You’re just a figment of my imagination!”
“Do you always imagine dead people that you know?”
Law opens his mouth to deny it vehemently, because of course he doesn’t, but inexplicably, he thinks of Corazon. His ridiculous smile. His warm love. Law purses his lips and pointedly doesn’t look at Luffy’s translucent figure.
The words come out softer than they were supposed to. “No. I don’t.”
And if he has somehow gained the ability now, he wishes Corazon were here instead.
Luffy follows him to the church this time.
Unfortunately, it seems like the only one who can see him is Law. They passed by a crowded street on the way, and if Luffy could be visible to other people, surely someone would’ve pointed to the guy floating above Law’s head the entire time, or at least when Luffy tried to strike up a conversation with them—but no one did, to Law’s disappointment.
Consolingly, Luffy seemed put out by that fact, too, so it was mutual dissatisfaction at the very least.
“I will ignore you while I’m in the church,” Law tells Luffy as they walk up the stairs leading to the door, “so don’t try to talk to me. Anything you want to say can wait until after I’m done.”
“What’s church like?” Luffy unexpectedly asks.
“You’ve never been to one?”
“I don’t remember.”
Oh, yeah. Law thinks a bit as they climb the height. “It’s a place you wouldn’t like, probably. Too many rules. Too many people who hate those who don’t follow them. Too many hypocrites.”
“Geez, yeah, that sounds awful. The hell is that about?”
“People have always wanted control over other people. Religion is just one of the many ways to do it.”
Luffy huffs irritably but soon gets distracted by an eagle that sharply cries out above head. It must have spotted its prey, and Law knows how it feels. He holds a steadfast gaze on the entrance to the church.
An eagle’s sight never diverts.
“I thought I told you that we don’t have the fruit.”
The nun is kneeling in worship when Law finds her. It’s unlucky that he’s managed to catch exactly the same one twice in a row, but beggars can’t be choosers. He’ll have to convince her.
Carefully, he bends to one knee, genuflecting briefly before the tabernacle, then makes his way across the pew to where the nun is. She has paused her reverence of the lord to pay attention to Law’s slightly rusty movements. When Law takes a seat, she does the same. They are silent for a long moment.
“…You are familiar with church etiquette.”
“I was taught by nuns growing up,” Law says.
“Taught amongst the devout and yet turned against its values,” the nun remarks. Her debilitating fear of Law seems to have calmed down significantly. “What happened to you, pirate?”
Law keeps his gaze forward, grazing the windows, brightly painted with the images of angels; the ceiling, carved by the finest sculptor of Rolling Yard a long time ago; the altar, an exquisite piece of furnishing crafted by a talented carpenter of an earlier era. And in the middle of it all, he sees Luffy, floating around everywhere to get a close-up view.
“My teacher and parents were murdered by the government. The church where I learned to write was razed to the ground. Overnight, I lost my home. That’s what,” Law confesses. She is a nun, not a priest. She knows that as much as he does, and she still chooses to listen to him with undeserved patience. “But pirate or not, I haven’t done anything that would shame the sister who taught me her faith.”
“Is it not your faith, too?”
“Would I be a pirate if it were?”
She blinks at him, blushing a little as if she forgot all the pirate-based hostility she hitherto held toward him. “No, I guess not,” she mumbles. Her hands clasp tightly together in her lap. “Why do you want the Calm-Calm Fruit? I read up on you yesterday. You’re already a Devil Fruit eater.”
“It’s not to eat myself, but to make sure I know who does.” He expected this answer to soothe some of her fears, but instead, she closes up again.
“We don’t have it,” she insists crisply. “I am sorry for your losses. I will pray for you and for all your departed loved ones, but please don’t come here again.”
Law is ready to lose patience with her by this point. He considers using Anaesthesia on her and inducing a drugged state in which he’ll likely have more luck in drawing out information, but he’s distracted by Luffy, who floats beside her.
“Someone she knows ate it, I guess,” Luffy says flippantly. The nun doesn’t notice him, and Law has to pretend that he doesn’t either. “But she’s almost as closed up as you are, huh?”
On what basis are you saying this? Law wants to ask, but can’t. Luffy has always had an eerie ability to gauge the innermost thoughts of people. The ones they have trouble expressing. The parts which matter. If there’s anyone he can trust with things like these, it’s the man who moved the hearts of millions of people around the world.
“Someone beloved to me was the previous user of the Calm-Calm Fruit,” Law admits, the words like needles in his throat. “He was my saviour. When I was a child, he’d use the fruit’s powers to allow me a quiet night’s sleep. I need to know. Who wields those abilities now? What do they use it for?”
The nun hesitates. Her walls are crumbling again, thanks to the push Luffy gave Law to be a little vulnerable. “If,” she starts meekly, “if you meet who ate the fruit, will you leave? You won’t harm them?”
“I don’t harm innocents,” Law says, feeling like a broken record. “I will leave as soon as I know who ate it. Not just this church, but this island.”
The nun looks out to the altar and brings her hands together in a final prayer. Law has an idea of what the prayer must be about.
The nun’s name is Lea. She doesn’t tell Law much apart from that and keeps him at a constant distance, which works well for Law. He didn’t come to this island to make friends, nor does he intend to make any wherever else the breeze takes him.
Luffy keeps following Law even despite his frequent distractions and interest in several things around them. Law can’t help following his movement with his eyes, which is a problem because Lea shoots him a disturbed glance for it, occasionally following his line of gaze to deduce what he’s looking at. Not that she’ll ever find him.
Law is the only one who can see Luffy for some reason. Maybe I really have gone mad, he thinks.
Lea leads Law to the convent and tells him to wait outside the gate. He frowns at her, prompting her to promise that she will be back. She needs permission from the Reverend Mother before she can allow a man onto the premises. Law acquiesces to their rules, but he will not follow them if she breaks her promise. He lets her know as much.
“You were right about the rules,” Luffy says, idly picking at his nose even though there’s definitely nothing there unless ghosts can produce ghost discharges or something. He must be doing it out of habit. It’s becoming clearer that there are things he remembers solely because of his nature.
“What’s your impression of this place?”
“Too strict, but it’s interesting. This is why I love travelling. I see so many things.”
Law looks at him, furrowing his brows curiously. “Did you remember something?”
“No, why?” Luffy asks genuinely.
“How do you remember your love for travel?”
“Oh. Hm…” He crosses his arms and legs and floats around, his body turning three-sixty degrees in the air. “I just know, I guess! Why wouldn’t I like to travel? It’s so boring to stay in one place.”
Law snorts. He should’ve expected as much. “That’s true,” he agrees. “I like travelling too.”
“Really? Then we should travel together!”
“With you?” Law asks, and Luffy tilts his head with a smile as if to ask, ‘Who else?’
“Yeah.” He doesn’t really understand his situation. Luffy is a ghost who left his memories behind for the people who love him. He has forgotten everything—he doesn’t even have his treasured hat. What else is there for him than to follow Law, the only person who can communicate with him?
But Law doesn’t want that responsibility. Luffy lived and died just like any other person throughout history. Not even Imu’s immortality lasted forever. There’s nothing for Law to do about it. He knew Luffy personally for only a few combined months at most.
“I’d rather you find a way to move on. I don’t want to feel like I’m going crazy. I remember more about you than you do. If you had at least retained your memories, I could’ve entertained the idea of you being real.”
“I am real.”
“No,” Law says immediately. Softly. Some things aren’t acceptable, and this is one of them.
Luffy was the precious beam of sunlight on a cloudy day. The first shoot of green when winter melts away. The Milky Way on a dark, dark night. He embodied life and everything that makes it so valuable. He was and was.
Because he died.
“No, you’re not.” Law doesn’t look at ‘Luffy’ anymore.
Nothing about this feels real.
Reverend Mother Karol is a surprisingly young woman with a nasty glare shaping her round eyes. Considering how all the nuns look at Law while he walks into the estate, though, he’s probably an exception. Likely, she’s kind and nurturing to everyone else who comes knocking at the door.
That’s fine. Law got used to being looked at like that back when he was a child. At least now, it’s because of the choices he made and nothing else.
“Everyone here’s pretty unfriendly, huh?” Luffy says, and Law presses his lips together before he can make the mistake of replying.
Karol says in a clipped voice, “Men are not typically allowed on the premises.” Her back is rod-straight, and her steps are quick clicks on the stone floor. Law does not have to hurry to catch up with her, despite how fast she walks; she is too many heads shorter than him. Her pride, however, may rival his own. It earns her his respect. “We will overlook it this once, as we have little choice regarding you, Surgeon of Death. I would rather you enter on my watch than force your way in without it.”
“Smart decision,” Law drawls. “I have no interest in crossing your boundaries as long as it doesn’t get in my way.”
“You’ve already promised to leave this island as soon as we show you what you want,” Karol sharply states. “I expect you to keep it.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
She ignores him the rest of the way, muttering something about ‘dirty pirates’ under her breath. Law doesn’t care about it, but Lea frigidly avoids looking at him.
“Lady, you look even angrier than Law does,” Luffy says, hovering around Karol. She can’t hear him nor see him, and Luffy knows that, but he still pulls at his cheeks and sticks two fingers in his nostrils to lift it, making relentlessly ridiculous faces at her. “C’mon, laugh!”
Against his will, Law nearly laughs in her stead and ends up making a sound somewhere between a snort and a sneeze. He slaps a hand over his mouth in mortification just as Lea and Karol both turn to him, puzzled.
“Yes?” Karol asks, looking offended.
“I was…sneezing,” Law says dumbly.
She scowls at him disapprovingly. “Please be quiet in the convent,” Karol tells him, as if sneezing is a grievous problem that remains unclassified as a sin. “We are here. Lea, I will let you monitor him hereon. Escort him out as soon as he is done.”
Law glares accusingly at Luffy, who shrugs with an almost smug grin that Law wishes he could slap off. “You should’ve laughed,” Luffy says, grin widening. “Bet that would’ve made these people really mad.”
Always poking the sleeping dragon. His mind has conjured a perfect representation of Luffy.
“Come,” Lea says once she opens the door. Law follows her in slowly.
It’s a spacious room by a convent’s standards; a small room by regular ones. There’s a threadbare bed, an old wooden desk with a chair pushed under and a rocking chair by the barred, open window, the back of which is facing them. The desk is littered with colourful oil pastel paintings.
“Mother, how do you feel today?”
It’s only when Lea asks this to the rocking chair that Law realises someone is sitting in it. She’s as quiet as a corpse. Law walks forward, brows knitting as he takes in the lady’s appearance. She’s gaunt and pale, her lips dry from dehydration, and displays yellowed sclera.
“What’s wrong with her?” Luffy asks, waving a hand in front of her. Impossibly, the lady actually follows the movement with her eyes.
“She’s suffering from liver disease,” Law answers, frowning at how she stares at Luffy. It’s like she can see him.
“Yes,” Lea says. She obviously assumed the statement addressed her. “But that’s not her real illness.” At Law’s curious look, she continues, “Mother Sophia was the mother superior prior to Mother Karol. She was Mother Karol’s mentor, and you might not have been able to distinguish them from each other had you seen her before she…she lost her mind.”
Law doesn’t reply, but the silent question hangs between them. How?
“She went through something.” Lea stares at Sophia, her lips trembling. “Something no nun should ever go through. No person. It left scars on her physically, mentally…and destroyed her spiritually. She blamed God and…in all honesty, I did too. She was always an upright woman. Modest, strict, kind. There—there was no reason she should’ve gone through that… No reason for that humiliation and hurt! I feel so cheated and…and helpless.”
Luffy listens with crossed arms, his feet planted on the ground for once, like he suddenly decided he’ll temporarily be a part of the living world again. Law wants to ask what he’s thinking but cannot.
Lea interrogated Law earlier about his lack of faith despite growing up surrounded by it, but now he wonders if it was meant for some version of her instead. The version of her that Lea is afraid of becoming.
He recognises the anger, the despair, the desperation of a voice that is most likely tearing through her mind, going, why, why, why, God? He recognises the signs of someone on the cusp of losing their faith, knows what it’s like to suddenly realise one day that, in fact, there is no greater power that protects the powerless.
Remember, Law, the weak don’t decide how they die.
Law shakes that loathsome voice out of his mind and turns to Luffy, watches him observe Sophia. Forget him. He’s gone.
“Mother Sophia?” Lea shuffles her feet a little, her voice on edge. Arctic winds blow into the room and Lea rushes forward. “Oh, are you feeling cold, Mother? I’ll close this…”
It’s futile. Sophia doesn’t indicate feeling cold. Her face is impassive, almost lifeless. Her bony hands rest in her lap, her unfocused eyes… The hair on Law’s nape stands noticing the way her gaze lands on Luffy again.
She lifts her arms, head tilted up, mouth agape. Unintelligible words escape her dry lips as she begins worship in the orans posture.
“Mother?” Lea says, pale-faced.
“I take it that this isn’t something she usually does?” Law asks.
“She…she hasn’t prayed since… She didn’t remember the words—her mind, it…it became noisy. She cried ceaselessly about how she couldn’t stop hearing ‘the voices’ and—”
It’s almost as if incoherence became contagious, but Law understands what she’s trying to say, regardless. He vaguely knows why they fed Sophia the Calm-Calm Fruit instead of handing it over to the government or eating it themselves now. They couldn’t get rid of her, but they couldn’t deal with her. They probably knew nothing about the fruit other than its name. The title ‘Calm-Calm’ gave them all the hope they needed.
Even Law could not have thought that someone driven to insanity would figure out how to use the fruit’s abilities this way. Or perhaps the fruit reacted to what she needed most. The nuns of this convent took a reckless and lucky leap of faith.
Law’s frown deepens. “Is she hearing those voices again?
“I-I don’t know!”
Luffy’s eyebrows raise and contract in turn. “I guess she needs to let it all out. You know, like when you need to poop after eating really spicy food,” he says, which, of course, he’d come up with such a lazy, straightforward solution. He must’ve used all the juice his pea-brain had to come up with that.
Abruptly, the chanting stops. The room stills. Perhaps it’s Law’s imagination, but the temperature of the room rises slightly.
Sophia, who was reverently praying a moment ago, is now vacantly beholding Luffy, her frail arms still spread out. Her pale blue eyes shimmer, and slowly, shakily, she smiles. It’s uncanny, downright disturbing, how she seems to see Luffy.
“Angel came to take me to heaven,” she says, her voice scratchy from disuse but so unexpectedly fragile and light. “Angel.”
“I’m no angel, lady,” Luffy replies, placing his hands on his hips. He almost sounds insulted. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy.”
It gives off the impression that they were having a conversation as two people, not a madwoman and an amnesiac ghost who just learned his name. Law finds himself believing in what he sees before his eyes, but he could just as easily be going mad too.
“Angel,” Sophia says, her smile wavering. The shimmer in her eyes overflow, rolling down her cheeks. She sniffles. “Angel, can I still go to heaven?” The tears drip with more force, as if just the concept of an angel has returned some strength to her, if only so that she can grieve for herself. Her outspread hands drop into her lap. “Or am I…too dirty to go there now?”
“I told Karol that we should’ve painted over that wall!” Lea mutters hatefully. She has dropped the pretence of unequal standing between them. “See what her stubbornness has done now!”
It’s only when she points it out that Law sees it: the faded, peeling image of an old, life-sized angel painting directly behind Luffy. The meagre light from the oil lamp makes it easy to gloss over that detail, damaged as the wall’s surface is.
“Does this happen often?”
Lea sighs, touching her head. “Yes. Too many times to count now… But Mother Karol refuses to get rid of it…”
It’s none of Law’s business why she refuses to get rid of it. All he cares about is that Sophia was apparently not looking at Luffy this whole time. Just the painting behind him. The reveal seems to have gone unnoticed by Luffy, though, because he keeps his eyes fixed on Sophia who’s sobbing quietly.
“You’re going to heaven,” Luffy says firmly. He kneels down, like he believes he has to. His form doesn’t pass through the floor, even though Law knows it can. Luffy insists on looking as human as possible, right now, as he places his hands on top of Sophia’s skeletal ones. She gasps between the next sobs, staring at Luffy’s face.
She’s playing mind games with Law without even knowing it because, again, Law thinks she can see Luffy.
“You’re going to heaven,” Luffy repeats. “I’m sure of it.”
Whether or not Sophia can hear him, she might've felt his presence. Her demeanour changes and her unassuming madness shifts in intensity. For better or worse, her next cry rips through her throat like something she has locked inside her for far too long, and she bawls.
“Good heavens!” Lea rushes to Sophia’s side and falls to her knees, grabbing her hands through Luffy’s.
Surprised, Luffy retrieves his hands and stumbles behind Law, almost making him snort. What does he think he’s hiding from? What does a ghost even need to hide from?
“It’s okay,” Lea coos comfortingly. “It’s okay, Mother. God loves you. He must. What happened to your powers? Aren’t they working today?”
None of what she says gets through. Sophia continues to wail tragically. From outside, several rushed footsteps approach the door. When it’s thrown open, Law gets confronted by exactly the scene he expects to be. Several angry nuns glare venomously at him. Karol, who’s in the lead, looks about ready to bite his head off.
“I did nothing,” Law says, well in advance. “She’s crying because of the angel on that wall. If anything, Sister Lea said it’s your fault. Anyway, I got what I wanted, so I’ll be leaving. Come on, Straw Hat-ya.”
Karol and Lea gape at him, exchanging a variety of expressions.
Now that Law will never see these people again, he doesn’t care if they look at him like he’s lost a few marbles. He turns around just long enough to see Luffy wave at Sophia. “Bye, lady mother,” he says, and follows Law.
When they’re out, Law sets up a room and shambles away.
It’s while Law is packing his bags that Luffy flies in through the wall, his entire body steaming. It’s an interesting reaction that Law assumes happens when ghosts are angry. It makes him crack a small smirk.
“You left without me!” Luffy says, pointing an accusing finger at him. The steam escapes more exaggeratedly through his ears.
Law shrugs. “My bad.”
“You knew I wouldn’t come along with you! I don’t have a body!”
“Not my problem. I already told you a long time ago that you have to take care of it, and you didn’t.”
Luffy stops short, mouth open. He blinks. “You…you did?”
Shit. Yeah. Amnesia. What an annoying fucking affliction for a ghost like Luffy to have. He doesn’t even have a physiological reason for why it could’ve happened, so unless Law can find a shaman or an exorcist or something, this is out of his realm of solvable problems.
“Tell me how we know each other! Are we friends?”
“No, we are not. And shut up, I have other things to focus on right now,” Law replies, zipping his suitcase. “Why are you still here, anyway?”
It might be a cruel question to ask. Luffy barely knows who he is, let alone where to go. He doesn’t take it too badly, though, and just voices his fervent complaints to Law which evolves into a critique on Law’s ‘unfriendliness’. Law pays no attention to Luffy and straps his sword to his back, walking out of the room without a second look.
“Are you planning on following me forever?” Law asks, after locking up the little house. He opens the mailbox and places the key inside for the landlord to find later. He’s losing his deposit anyway, so he doesn’t bother with leaving behind the month’s due rent.
“Ghosts haunt people, don’t they?” Luffy beams. “So I’m gonna haunt you!”
Law’s eye twitches. Feeling another headache coming on, he ignores Luffy the rest of the way, which is difficult to do when he keeps firing off questions. He only goes silent when they stop by Jess’ little bakery.
She’s at the counter, loading up some pastries into the display shelf. Jess stops what she’s doing when she sees Law’s suitcase. “You’re finally leaving, huh?” she asks gruffly. Her shoulder looks better. “The sun’s setting. Shouldn’t you leave in the morning?”
“Morning or night, the sea doesn’t care,” Law intones. “I’m sailing alone so my journey will have a regular, repeated schedule anyway.”
“Still don’t know how you’re managing that, kid.” Jess takes out a brown paper bag and packs in some of her pastries. “They aren’t the pancakes you love, but take them for the road anyway. On the house. And if you feel like eating my food again, stop by anytime.”
“…I’ll think about it.” Law takes the pastries with a nod. “Take care of your health.”
Luffy giggles a little behind him, and Law has an urge to snap at him, but doesn’t. It’s when they’re walking away that he asks Luffy what he was laughing about back there.
“Nothin’,” Luffy answers, floating sideways next to Law. His grin is wide and bright, and the orange rays of the setting winter sun gleams right through him. “I’m just glad that you’re the one I’m haunting. I like you.”
Then he laughs again, and Law distinctly feels like he’s being made fun of. His cheeks warm and, faintly, he recalls that this isn’t the first time Luffy said something like this. It flustered him back then, too.
“Shut up,” he murmurs, and scowls to will away the blush. He speeds up his pace, leaving Luffy behind to catch up, when he hears Jess call out to him from afar.
“Hey, Law!” she calls, and Law looks over his shoulder. She grins at him and raises one powerful fist above her head. “Bon voyage!”
Luffy laughs delightedly and waves goodbye to her with both his holographic hands, even though he knows by now that she can’t see him. “Bye, baker lady! Let’s meet again!”
He’s as carefree about his farewells as ever, always assuming they'll reunite someday. He was like that when he said goodbye to Law for the last time four years ago, too, swearing that they would meet again. Leave it to Luffy to fulfil a promise from beyond the grave.
Inexplicably influenced by him, Law grins, crooked as it is, and lifts a hand up to show Jess he heard her. “Yeah,” he says, and raises his voice. He’ll take a page out of Luffy’s book, this time. “See you later!”
Goodbyes don’t have to be assumed as forever.