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“I’ll be damned,” you started, “so Luffy really can rope anyone into his schemes. Even a Warlord.” You walked over to him, finding a spot by his side aboard the Thousand Sunny. “Ah, excuse me, ex-warlord.”
He looked at you in the corner of his eye, his head refusing to turn away from the shore Punk Hazard. “It’s out of necessity,” Law mumbled.
“My captain wants the same thing you want- necessity and coincidence are all you need.”
Law grasped his sword, holding it tight, trying to seek some comfort. “It’s only the second time running into you Strawhats, but both those times have been…chaotic. Feels like a little more than a coincidence.”
You think back to Saobody and seeing Law for the first time in the flesh; he was handsome, cocky, and intriguing. The holder of the Opu Opu no Mi, and a doctor no less- the perfect complement to his devil fruit, you noted.
Power gravitates to power. Luffy seemed to pull in both Eustass Kidd and Trafalgar Law when they fought off the Navy outside the Celestial Dragon’s auction house.
Intellect gravitates to intellect. As the Strawhat’s Devil fruit researcher, you knew that the Opu Opu no Mi was one of the most versatile fruits to exist. As Law fought, you observed. With just one word he established a room and stood in the same spot in order to fight, separating people’s limbs from their bodies. Why is he tossing some Navy guy’s head in his hand like a baseball? What a weird guy. You laughed to yourself, letting the three supernovas effortlessly take out the marines.
A long two years later, aboard the Sunny, and Law looked as handsome as ever. But his weariness was revealed in his constant scowl. He was tired, seemingly ready to throw his life away. Even the setting sun, fiery and blazing, couldn’t seem to melt the ice in his cold eyes.
“Must be fate then,” you concluded. Rather, intervention for Law’s state of mind in the form of your crew.
Your attentive gaze was always noticed by his own, even at Saobody. You looked at him with curiosity as if you could read his every thought, as if you desperately wanted to. If this was a battle of observation and wit, then so be it. Law was a complex man, and you would love to pick apart his brain, and as much as he was loath to admit, he would love to pick apart yours.
“Chopper told me you healed the kids from Caesar’s drug. Thank you,” you said kindly as the Sunny drifted away from Punk Hazard, the children and the Marines waving goodbye.
“You shouldn’t thank me. They still have to go through painful treatment,” Law said.
“So the Opu Opu no Mi has limits?”
“If I could cure everything, I would. Those children have been consistently consuming that drug for over a year. It’s part of their bloodstream at this point. They’ll have to deal with withdrawals, their abnormal body sizes, reintegrating back into society, and any residual effects we don’t know about.”
You breathed in, savoring the salty air that you missed during the chaos at Punk Hazard. “They will suffer, true. But at least…it’ll be a little less than it was before. Their families have missed them.”
Law gritted his teeth. He felt ashamed, complicit in those children’s pain for so long. How dare he call himself a doctor?
“Why do you, as a doctor, have the word ‘death’ on your hand?” Your hand shot out to grab his wrist. You brought it close to your face, studying his tattoo. “A little contradictory for someone who seems to take his job seriously.”
“It’s a memento mori of sorts,” he replied vaguely. Your hand on his sent unfamiliar- and unwanted- shivers up his spine.
“A reminder of mortality, huh?” Law nodded, impressed.
He nodded, “It’s also plastered on the side of my submarine.” It’s been a while since he’s seen his trusty yellow vessel, his Jolly Roger painted black next to the word “DEATH,” just like his own tattoos.
“That I believe. Wait, you have a submarine?” Law noticed your eyes light up as they looked at him.
“Yeah, the Polar Tang.”
You hummed, imagining how wondrous it would be to see the depths of the ocean every single day at sea. “Did you become a surgeon before or after eating your devil fruit?”
“After, I guess.” He called himself a surgeon ever since he extracted White Lead Disease from his own body. A doctor since the age of twelve, only by necessity.
“You guess?” You questioned.
“I guess,” Law smirked.
“You said your devil fruit has limits…?”
“Of course, it can only do so much.”
“I think…I get it now.”
Law raised an eyebrow.
“With your fruit, you are the perfect doctor. But even then…” Your eyes traced the letters on Law’s fingers.
He slowly took his hand out of your grasp. “People still die,” he said.
“Doctors know death better than anyone, huh?” You said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes widened. After being constantly surrounded by idiots, being in your presence was refreshing, enjoyable even. “Did your research, it seems.”
You shook your head. “Research alone wouldn’t tell me something like that. Plus, I’m sure I’m missing some details.”
And you were. Law knows Death all too well. Death from sickness. His sister, his parents. Death from murder. Corazon. Death by his own hand. The hundreds of pirates whose hearts he gave away to the Navy. The death he hopes to deliver to Doflamingo. To stray away from death would be to stray away from his identity, so clearly conveyed in the ink on his fingers.
“My tattoos constantly remind me of what I’m trying to get my patients to avoid. Sure, it’s a memento mori, but it’s not only for my own sake. It’s for everyone’s, especially the lives I hold in my hand, both as a captain and a doctor.”
No one ever questioned the presence of his tattoos, his fascination with death. Many assumed he just wanted to be an edgy doctor-pirate, living up to his unsettling name of Surgeon of Death. But those inquisitive eyes of yours seemed to see right through him, down to the depths of his very being, past all of those preconceived notions. You seemed to hang onto every word he said, urgently and desperately, making him feel like he was the only person in the world when you spoke to him.
“It’s just that,” he felt his breath catch in his throat, “it’s always a good thing to remind ourselves that we’re not immortal. Even if I help some live longer, it’s only just that. Death is the one thing I can guarantee everyone- I can’t promise life.”
The fiery sunlight danced upon the waters of the ocean, closer than ever to melting away Law’s icy gaze.
“So…how’d you end up a surgeon?”
“My father was one,” he said dismissively, “and I just happened to eat the perfect devil fruit for that line of work.”
“A mighty coincidence,” you noted amusedly, well-aware that Law wasn’t telling you everything.
And Law, too, was aware that you could see that.
“How’d someone as observant as you end up on a crew of idiots?”
You shrugged. “They’re not all idiots though,” you said, glancing at Franky tinkering with his latest device as Robin watched.
“Could join my crew instead.” Law cringed at his own words as soon as they left his mouth. Would he even be alive when all the dust has settled in Dressrosa? What would be the point of you joining his crew if he wasn’t there? But his body and mind, under stress and anticipation since Luffy arrived on Punk Hazard, knew he needed someone like you, now more than ever. And so he spoke it without a thought.
How quickly curiosity gravitates to curiosity.
You rolled your eyes. “Gotta give me something worth leaving this for,” you gestured broadly at the Sunny.
“Like I said, I have a submarine. It’s a whole other world down there.”
“You’ve probably seen things that no pirate has ever even dreamed of seeing, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s like Fishman Island, multiplied by a thousand.”
“Fishman Island really was beautiful…I would like to visit your Polar Tang one day. As a visitor,” you clarified. “There’s a reason I’m on this crew- everyone helps each other to live life to the absolute fullest.” A sting of jealousy pierces his heart as Law watches you look at your crew fondly, with all the love in the world. He feels his heart skip a beat despite your expected rejection to join his crew. You sighed. “Law, it’s like you said. Death is sure to happen but…in the meantime, we can’t forget to live.”
But how could he do that when he had a soul to avenge? Corazon’s soul- a death that weighed heavy on his heart, one that he swore to never forget.
“To live?” He asked, his voice shaky as veins in his hands started to feel like pins and needles.
“To live is to laugh…is to cry, to love, to feel.” You tore your eyes away from the crew to look at the broken man before you. “It’s to be free.”
Those words sounded oddly familiar. Corazon’s last words echoed in Law’s mind: “You are now…truly free.” Looking at you, the ice in his eyes started to thaw. With every blink, the details in your face were becoming blurry, the Sunny feeling like it came to a full stop.
A wave of nostalgia washed over Law as he stared at his tattooed fingers. As he squinted at them, the five letters on each finger, spelling out the word DEATH, started to blur. In his vision, those same letters started to waver, each one morphing into entirely new letters. With you in his periphery, he mumbled out the new word that it formed:
“Alive.”