Tides Of Hesitation

eeek i'm glad you're open to writing for koby ^^ ! if you aren't too busy, could i request just a few small awkward interactions between him and a marine/civillian reader pre-relationship? like yk when it's so obvious two people like each other but neither admit it... teehee 😼 thank you!

Tides of Hesitation

kobi × reader

a/n: first time writing about him so I hope it's good aw

words count: 3.8k

tags: fluffy, soft, you're a marine too

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Marine base is always alive with movement, recruits training, officers barking orders, and the steady rhythm of boots against the dock. But for Koby, it all fades into the background the moment he sees you.

You’re sorting through crates near the supply docks, uniform slightly wrinkled from a long morning of inventory. Your brows furrow in concentration as you check a list, completely unaware of the pink-haired Marine who just stopped mid-step upon spotting you.

Koby quickly looks away, pretending to focus on a group of recruits jogging past. He tells himself he’s just being polite, he’s a Captain after all, and he should be keeping an eye on the base. But he knows that’s not the real reason he keeps sneaking glances in your direction.

“Captain Koby!” a voice calls, snapping him out of his thoughts. Helmeppo strides toward him, smirking “You look a little lost there. Something distracting you?”

Koby flinches, straightening “N-No! I was just—” He stops himself before he makes it worse “Never mind.”

Helmeppo follows his gaze and immediately raises an eyebrow “Ohhh. I see.”

Koby nearly chokes “You don’t see anything!” he insists, but it’s too late. Helmeppo’s smirk deepens.

Before Koby can stop him, Helmeppo waves in your direction “Oi, Y/N! Got a minute?”

You look up, blinking in confusion before setting down your clipboard and walking over. Koby wants to disappear.

“Captain Koby, you needed me for something?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

Koby opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again “Uh—I—”

“Yeah, Captain,” Helmeppo drawls, arms crossed “You did seem eager to talk.”

Koby silently vows to get revenge on him later. For now, he struggles to form a sentence under your curious gaze.

“I—I was just checking in!” Koby blurts out “You know, making sure you’re, um, settling in alright!”

You blink “I’ve been here for three months, Captain.”

Koby wants the sea to swallow him whole “R-Right! Of course! I just... uh...” He rubs the back of his neck “How’s inventory going?”

You look down at your clipboard and back up at him "…Fine?”

Helmeppo snorts, and Koby kicks him (it’s not subtle).

An awkward silence falls between you both, and so you clear your throat “Well… thanks for checking in, I guess? I should probably get back to work.”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, of course. Sorry for interrupting!”

You nod and turn away, but before you get too far, Koby calls after you “Wait!”

You pause, looking over your shoulder.

Koby hesitates, then forces out “Let me know if, uh, if you need anything!”

You smile small but warme “Will do, Captain.”

The moment you’re out of earshot, Helmeppo claps a hand on Koby’s shoulder “That,” he says, grinning “was painful to watch.”

Koby groans, face burning “Shut up.”

Helmeppo just laughs.

Morning drills leave Koby exhausted, but that doesn’t stop his mind from wandering. Specifically, to you.

It’s frustrating. He’s supposed to be focused on training, strategy, and leadership, not on the way you smiled at him yesterday.

Helmeppo, of course, has noticed “You’ve been sighing a lot today, Captain,” he teases, leaning against the railing of the training ground “Something on your mind? Or should I say… someone?”

Koby nearly drops the training manual he’s holding “I have not been sighing!”

Helmeppo raises an eyebrow “Right. And I haven’t been watching you sneak glances toward the docks all morning.”

Koby stiffens, gripping the manual tighter. He refuses to dignify that with a response. Instead, he turns his attention back to the field, where a group of recruits is finishing their sparring exercises. He clears his throat, forcing his voice to be steady.

“Focus on work, Helmeppo. We’re not here to gossip.”

Helmeppo snickers “Oh, you might not be, but I certainly am.”

Before Koby can protest, a voice calls out from the direction of the supply docks “Captain Koby!”

He turns so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. And there you are, jogging toward him with a clipboard in hand, eyes scanning a sheet of paper.

“I need your signature for the new shipment approval. Do you have a second?”

Koby straightens too quickly “Y-Yeah! Of course!”

You stop beside him, close enough that he catches the faint scent of salt and parchment ink. He takes the clipboard from you, trying very hard not to let his hand brush against yours as he signs the form.

Helmeppo, standing a few feet away, watches the exchange like he’s witnessing a drama unfold.

You shift on your feet “The shipment came in earlier than expected, so I figured I’d get the paperwork done now.”

Koby nods, handing back the clipboard “That’s… really efficient of you.”

You blink at him, then let out a small laugh “Well, I try.”

Koby realizes, belatedly, that he’s still staring at you. He quickly averts his gaze, clearing his throat “Uh—good work. Keep it up.”

You tilt your head, amused “Thanks, Captain.”

Another awkward pause. Koby swears he can hear Helmeppo physically holding back laughter behind him.

You give him a small nod before heading back toward the docks. Koby watches you go, feeling his entire face heat up.

The second you’re out of earshot, Helmeppo claps him on the back, nearly knocking him forward “Captain, that was tragic.”

Koby groans, rubbing his temples “Please. Stop talking.”

Helmeppo grins “Oh, absolutely not.”

Koby has survived brutal training, impossible missions, and direct battles with some of the world’s most fearsome pirates. And yet, none of those things compare to the sheer terror of sitting across from Vice Admiral Garp while Helmeppo tries very hard not to choke on laughter.

“So, Koby.” Garp takes a massive bite out of a rice cracker, crumbs spilling onto the table “You got a crush?”

Koby nearly chokes on air “W-WHAT?!”

Helmeppo completely loses it, practically keeling over with laughter “Oh, this is amazing.”

Koby grips the table, staring at Garp like he’s just declared war “Where did you—who told you—what are you talking about?!”

Garp snorts “Oh, come on, boy! You think I wouldn’t notice? You get all stiff and weird whenever that supply recruit’s around. Like a nervous little sea slug.”

Koby buries his face in his hands “I do not get stiff and weird…”

Helmeppo, still wheezing, barely manages to say “Koby, you literally bowed yesterday when Y/N handed you a clipboard. A clipboard.”

Koby groans “I panicked!”

Garp laughs so hard the entire table shakes “Panicked?! Boy, if you freeze up over a clipboard, how do you plan on ever confessing?!”

Koby immediately launches into damage control “There’s nothing to confess! Y/N and I are just—we’re colleagues! That’s it! Absolutely nothing else!”

“Right,” Helmeppo says, smirking “That’s why you turn the color of a cooked lobster every time they talk to you.”

Koby’s about to protest when a voice calls out from the doorway “Captain Koby?”

His soul leaves his body.

You step inside the room, looking between the three of them, clearly confused “…Did I interrupt something?”

Helmeppo immediately straightens, looking like he’s about to combust from holding back laughter. Garp, meanwhile, just grins like he’s enjoying the show.

Koby, on the other hand, is desperately trying to appear normal. He sits up way too straight and forces a totally casual smile “N-No! Not at all! What’s up?”

You glance at him suspiciously before holding up a document “I need your signature on the cargo report.”

Koby nods too quickly “Of course! Right! Cargo! Work!” He grabs the paper and hastily signs it, nearly snapping the pen in half with how hard he’s gripping it.

You hesitate for a second “…Are you okay?”

“Yep! Perfectly fine! Why do you ask?” he blurts out.

You blink “…Because you’re sweating?”

Koby internally screams “I-I was just… uh… training! Hard training! Very intense!”

Garp chuckles “Yep, boy’s been real worked up today.”

Helmeppo snorts so loudly he has to cover his mouth.

You still look confused, but eventually just nod “…Alright then. Thanks, Captain.”

With that, you turn and leave, and the second the door closes, Koby slams his head onto the table “Kill me. Right now.”

Garp howls with laughter, slapping Koby on the back hard enough to nearly knock him over “Boy, you’re hopeless!”

Helmeppo wipes a tear from his eye “Hopeless and hilarious.”

Koby just groans, face still pressed against the table “…I need to be reassigned.”

Koby tries to avoid Helmeppo for the rest of the day, but it’s nearly impossible when the man keeps appearing everywhere just to smirk at him.

At one point, Koby swears he sees Helmeppo whispering to Garp about something before the old man grins in his direction. He doesn’t have time to question it, though, because the universe decides to make his day even worse.

“Captain Koby! I—oh—wait—ah!”

Koby barely has time to turn around before you crash directly into him, nearly sending both of you to the ground.

He instinctively reaches out to steady you, hands awkwardly hovering before actually making contact with your arms “Are you okay?!”

You immediately straighten up, waving your hands “I-I’m fine! I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

Koby quickly steps back, rubbing the back of his neck “No, no, it’s okay! I wasn’t paying attention either!”

There’s a long, awkward pause as you both look anywhere except at each other.

Helmeppo, standing a few feet away, slowly puts his head in his hands “This is painful.”

You clear your throat, still visibly flustered “Um—right! I was actually looking for you!”

Koby’s brain completely shuts down “M-Me?!”

You nod rapidly “Yeah! I mean—yes! Because I, uh… I had a question! About… the, um… the thing.”

Koby blinks “The… thing?”

You shift your weight, clearly struggling “…The… Marine thing. With… the reports?”

Helmeppo audibly groans “Oh come on, Y/N, even you now?”

You snap out of your panic mode and shoot him a glare “Excuse me?!”

Helmeppo gestures wildly between the two of you “This! This! The mutual awkwardness! You’re both acting like nervous cadets instead of normal people!”

Koby sputters “W-We are not!”

You cross your arms, cheeks heating “I’m acting perfectly normal!”

Helmeppo gives you both a look before turning on his heel and walking away “I can’t do this. You two are a lost cause.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then, you nervously rub your arm “…I really did need to ask about the reports, though.”

Koby straightens “O-Oh! Right! Of course! Let’s—uh—go over that.”

You both walk toward his office, keeping at least a two-foot distance between you the entire way. Neither of you say a word. The tension is so unbearable that even the recruits passing by seem uncomfortable.

At this point, everyone in the base is starting to notice.

And everyone is waiting to see how long it takes before one of you finally admits something.

Koby does not want to be here.

Not because he doesn’t respect Vice Admiral Garp, he does, a lot even. But because you’re here too, standing stiffly beside him, and the moment Garp notices, Koby knows he’s doomed.

The Vice Admiral leans back in his chair, massive arms crossed over his chest, eyeing the both of you with a smirk that immediately puts Koby on edge “So. You two are spending a lot of time together lately.”

Koby nearly drops the stack of reports in his hands “I-It’s not like that! We—we just—work! We’re colleagues! Just normal colleagues doing normal Marine things together!”

You nod aggressively, gripping your own paperwork like it’s a lifeline “Yes! Exactly! Just work! That’s all it is!”

Garp snorts “Right. And I’m the King of Alabasta.”

Koby sputters “Sir, we’re serious!”

Garp waves a hand “Oh, I know you’re serious, boy. That’s the problem.” He leans forward, grinning “Because you’re so serious that it’s painfully obvious you’ve got it bad.”

You immediately stiffen “I—what?!”

Koby turns bright red “That’s—that’s completely incorrect, sir! I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

You nod far too quickly “M-Me neither! No idea! None at all!”

Garp glances between the two of you. Neither of you can hold eye contact with him or with each other. You’re both standing like you’re facing a firing squad, shoulders locked in place, expressions frozen somewhere between denial and horrified realization.

Then, Garp starts laughing.

Not just any laugh, a full-blown Garp laugh. The kind that shakes the entire room and nearly blows the papers off his desk.

“Oh, this is golden!” he howls, slapping his knee “You two look like a couple of schoolkids caught passing notes!”

Koby groans “Sir, please!”

Garp wipes a tear from his eye, then gestures toward the door “Go on, get outta here before I start planning your wedding.”

You both immediately move for the exit, neither of you daring to say another word. The second the door closes behind you, you and Koby stand there, stiff as statues.

For a long, awkward moment, neither of you move. Then, Koby slowly turns to look at you “…That was horrible.”

You nod, face still burning “Yeah. That was… a nightmare.”

More silence.

Then, you clear your throat “…Well. See you later?”

Koby nods way too fast “Yep! Later! Definitely! Okay bye!”

And with that, you both practically sprint in opposite directions.

From inside the office, Garp just shakes his head, grinning to himself “Hopeless.”

Koby swears he’s never been this embarrassed in his entire life.

And that includes the time he tripped in front of Admiral Sengoku. And the time he saluted the wrong superior and didn’t realize it for a full minute. And definitely the time he panicked and called Garp “Dad” during a training session.

But this? This is a new level of humiliation.

Because ever since the disaster in Garp’s office, the entire Marine base has started talking.

It starts small. A couple of recruits whispering when he walks by. A few smirks from officers who normally never pay attention to his personal life.

Then it gets worse.

Way worse.

By noon, Helmeppo has fully weaponized the situation. He strolls up to Koby while he’s trying to review patrol reports, looking far too pleased with himself “Hey, Captain.”

Koby doesn’t even look up “No.”

Helmeppo grins “I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I know you’re going to say something, and the answer is still no.”

Helmeppo leans on the desk “Fine, I’ll just show you instead.”

Before Koby can react, Helmeppo holds up a sheet of paper.

Koby squints “…What is that?”

Helmeppo beams “It’s a petition.”

Koby feels instant dread “…A petition for what?”

Helmeppo flips it around. At the top, in very large, very bold letters, it reads:

“MAKE KOBY AND Y/N STOP BEING AWKWARD AND JUST ADMIT IT ALREADY.”

Koby makes a strangled noise “What—WHAT IS THIS?!”

Helmeppo chuckles “Oh, just something the crew put together. You’d be amazed how many signatures we got. Look, even Garp signed it.”

Koby’s eye twitches as he scans the list.

Not only is Garp’s name right at the top, but nearly half the base has signed.

“WHY IS THERE A WHOLE PAGE JUST FROM THE KITCHEN STAFF?!”

Helmeppo shrugs “Apparently, they’ve been betting on you two for months.”

Koby slams his head onto the desk “This cannot be happening.”

And just when he thinks it can’t get worse—

“Hey, Captain, I need to—”

Koby’s head shoots up.

It’s you.

And you’re holding a stack of documents, looking just as awkward and uncomfortable as he feels.

For a second, the whole room is silent.

Then Helmeppo, still holding the petition, smirks “Oh, perfect timing.”

Koby lunges for him “DON’T YOU DARE—”

But Helmeppo’s already turning to you, holding up the paper like it’s an official Marine decree “Hey, Y/N, wanna add your name to the list?”

Your eyes widen in confusion “ uh? For what?”

Koby desperately grabs for the petition “IGNORE HIM! IT’S NOT REAL!”

Helmeppo dodges, still grinning “Oh, it’s very real.”

You look between the two of them, clearly so confused. But then you catch a glimpse of the title. Your entire face turns red “…Oh my god.”

Koby groans “I’M GOING TO JUMP INTO THE SEA.”

You look horrified “WHO SIGNED THIS?!”

Helmeppo cheerfully flips through the pages “Well, Garp, obviously. Most of the officers. Some of the cadets. Pretty sure the janitor added a heart next to his name. Oh, and the kitchen staff wrote a whole paragraph about how sick they are of you two pretending you don’t like each other.”

Koby wants to die “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING.”

You cover your face “I need to quit. I need to leave the Marines and change my name.”

Helmeppo grins “Oh, come on, you both like each other, just admit it—”

“WE DON’T—” both of you yell at the exact same time, which is the worst possible answer because now everyone in the room is watching.

Helmeppo just sighs, shaking his head “You two. Hopeless.”

And with that, he walks away, still holding the petition.

Leaving you and Koby standing there.

In the middle of the Marine base.

Surrounded by people who are very clearly eavesdropping.

Neither of you say a word.

Then, at the exact same time—

“I have work to do—”

“I should get back to training—”

You both turn and power walk in opposite directions.

The second you’re gone, one of the recruits sighs loudly “I swear, if they don’t get together in the next month, I’m quitting.”

Koby cannot take this anymore.

It’s been three days since the petition incident, and somehow, things have only gotten worse.

Everywhere he goes, people give him knowing looks. Recruits whisper the second he walks past. The kitchen staff has started serving his meals in heart-shaped portions.

And Helmeppo? Helmeppo has been insufferable, more than usual.

Koby really tries to pretend none of this is happening. But then, this morning, he finds a new note pinned to his office door:

“Confess or we riot.”

That’s it. That’s the final straw.

So now, Koby is marching down to the docks, fists clenched, heart pounding because damn it, if everyone is going to make his life miserable over this, he might as well get it over with.

And then he sees you.

You’re sitting near the supply crates, flipping through a stack of reports, completely unaware that Koby is about to have the most disastrous conversation of his life.

He takes a deep breath, walks up, and “WE NEED TO TALK!”

You jump so hard you nearly fall off the crate.

“What?? koby?!” You clutch your chest, eyes wide “You scared me. What is wrong with you?!”

Koby swallows, his face already heating up “S-Sorry! I just—I need to say something! Because if I don’t, I think I might actually die!”

You blink “…Okay?”

He exhales sharply “Listen. I don’t know when it started, and I don’t know why the entire Marine base thinks they have the right to butt into our business, but I… I like you, okay? There! I said it!”

There’s a long, horrible silence.

Koby’s entire body is on fire.

You just stare at him, mouth slightly open, as if your brain is still catching up “…You… like me?”

Koby nods aggressively “YES. VERY MUCH. A LOT, ACTUALLY.”

You blink again.

Then, slowly, your face starts turning red “…Oh.”

More silence.

Then you bury your face in your hands “I hate everyone so much.”

Koby freezes “…What?”

You groan, voice muffled against your palms “Because I like you too! But I was never going to say anything because I was convinced you didn’t feel the same and everyone was just trying to make fun of me, and now the entire base is going to rub it in our faces forever!”

Koby short-circuits.

“…You… like me too?”

You look up, expression absolutely miserable “Koby. Did you think I was just constantly being awkward for no reason?!”

Koby stares at you. Then he stares at the ground. Then he stares at the sky, as if begging for it to strike him down.

“Well, you thought that of me though… I am an idiot anyway”

You sigh “Yeah. Me too.”

And then, before either of you can say anything else.

“FINALLY!!!”

Koby whirls around.

Half the base is watching from the distance, cheering, clapping, and throwing their hats in the air.

Helmeppo is holding the petition, waving it over his head like a victory flag.

Garp is standing nearby, laughing so hard he actually wipes a tear from his eye.

The kitchen staff is clinking glasses.

Even the janitor is there, pumping his fist in the air.

Koby buries his face in his hands “…I should’ve transferred when I had the chance.”

You groan “We will never survive them”

Then, you both turn to look at each other and, despite everything, you both start laughing, because honestly this is exactly how it was always going to happen.

namivivi comic

I made this like 3 weeks ago at 2 am and forgor to post it 🤡

543 notes View Post

rhuski2002

1 month ago

This...

This is the reason I watch SVU

That and Mariska Hargitay

Y’all I’m watching Law & Order SVU, and I’m on this episode about homophobes who think they can cure the gay, which resulted in one of my favorite exchanges between Ice T and Munch

Munch: if an overbearing mother and a distant father cause homosexuality, why is it that I’m not gay?

Fin: maybe you’re in denial.

Munch: that would explain a lot…

605 notes View Post

rhuski2002

1 month ago

Y’all I’m watching Law & Order SVU, and I’m on this episode about homophobes who think they can cure the gay, which resulted in one of my favorite exchanges between Ice T and Munch

Munch: if an overbearing mother and a distant father cause homosexuality, why is it that I’m not gay?

Fin: maybe you’re in denial.

Munch: that would explain a lot…

605 notes View Post

rhuski2002

3 weeks ago

The only reason she wasn't given a Raid Suit is because she could have obliterated her pathetic excuse of a husband to smithereens with it. Give her a gun!!!

I'm on a Sora roll lately and I don't know why. Not that I'm complaining.

733 notes View Post

rhuski2002

1 month ago

Fandom! Sanji has me by a chokehold

Terminal

Thank You For All Your Amazing Writing! Your Blogs Seriously Make My Day Every Time. Could You Write

law × reader

you fall ill with a rare, incurable disease and law refuses to accept it.

a/n: this was so sad T.T btw as I said in my rules post I don’t write about this kind of topic, but given that law’s story is about that I wanted to give it a try

words count: 4.2k

tags: terminal illness, soft, angst, worried law

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You’re burning up.”

Law’s voice is calm, but you know him well enough to hear the tension beneath it. His hand lingers on your forehead, cool against your feverish skin.

You force a grin, despite the way your body aches “That’s just the effect you have on me.”

His expression doesn’t change. If anything, his brows knit together further, golden eyes dark with something unreadable.

“Don’t joke” he says flatly.

“Come on, it was funny” you mumble, but your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Law exhales sharply. He presses two fingers against your wrist, checking your pulse. You see the flicker of something in his eyes. Worry.

“Since when?”

“Since when what?”

“Since you started feeling like this.” His voice drops lower, more controlled “Don’t lie.”

You sigh, shifting under the blanket “A few days ago. Maybe a week?”

“A week?” His jaw clenches, and you watch the way his fingers curl into a fist “And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were busy, Law,” you murmur “I didn’t want to bother you.”

His reaction is immediate. His eyes darken, sharp and cutting, and for a second, you swear he’s actually angry. But when he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“You think I wouldn’t drop everything for you?”

Your breath catches. You can’t look at him. Instead, you force out another weak chuckle “Well, you are a very important pirate, Captain.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pretending it’s nothing.”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over you. The world tilts, your vision swims, and you barely register the way your body sways before Law is already there, steady hands catching you before you can fall.

“Y/N” His grip tightens around you, firm, grounding “I need to run some tests.”

You rest your forehead against his shoulder, too exhausted to protest “…That bad?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. You feel his heartbeat being too fast, too tense.

When he finally speaks, it’s quiet. Almost too quiet.

“I’m going to fix this.”

And for the first time ever since you know him, you don’t believe him.

The beeping of medical equipment fills the silence.

You sit on Law’s examination table, legs dangling as he adjusts the monitor beside you. His brows are furrowed, golden eyes locked onto the screen, and even though he hasn’t said a word in the last five minutes, you can practically hear the gears turning in his head.

The tension in the air is unbearable.

“Are you always this serious when you play doctor, or am I just special?” you tease, tilting your head at him.

Nothing. Not even a smirk.

You sigh dramatically “Come on, Law. You can’t even crack a smile for your beloved patient?”

“You’re not a patient,” he mutters “You’re my partner.”

His words send a little warmth through your chest, but before you can respond, he steps closer and gently presses his fingers against your wrist, feeling for your pulse again.

The warmth fades when you notice the way his hand lingers just a little too long.

“You like holding my hand that much?” you tease, forcing a grin “If you wanted to be romantic, you could’ve just asked.”

This time, his jaw tightens “Your pulse is weak.”

You try to wave him off with your free hand “That’s just because you’re touching me. Makes my heart stops, you know?”

“Y/N...” he warns, voice sharp.

You falter.

His hand moves to your other wrist, then your neck, fingers pressing lightly against your skin. His eyes are unreadable, but his silence is louder than anything he could say.

“…You’re scared” you murmur before you can stop yourself.

Law stiffens, but doesn’t deny it.

The realization makes your stomach twist, but you force another smile “Don’t worry, I’m still cute even when I’m dying.”

That does it. His head snaps up, eyes blazing “Don’t say that.”

The weight of his words hangs between you, heavy, suffocating.

You swallow “Sorry. Just trying to make you laugh.”

“Not funny” he mutters.

You look away, fingers curling against the examination table.

Another long silence. Then, his hands are suddenly on either side of your face, tilting your head up gently so you’re looking at him again. His touch is careful, but his grip is firm, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

His voice is quieter this time “You’re not dying.”

You stare at him. For a moment, you want to believe him, but the way his hands tremble against your skin tells you otherwise.

After a while, Law stares at the test results, fingers tightening around the paper. His golden eyes flick over the numbers, the medical jargon, the hard, undeniable facts.

It’s terminal.

He’s quiet... too quiet. That’s the first thing that unsettles you. You’re used to his silence, but this is different. This is suffocating.

“So?” You swing your legs lightly from the examination table, forcing a smirk “What’s the verdict, Doc? Am I dying?”

Silence.

The smirk falters “Law?”

His fingers crumple the edge of the paper. His jaw tightens. And then, so softly that you almost don’t hear it, he says “…It’s incurable.”

For a second, you swear time stops.

The words don’t register at first. They don’t make sense. It’s like your brain refuses to process them.

And then you laugh.

It bursts out before you can stop it, light, teasing, just like every other joke you’ve made today “Wow, dramatic. You make it sound like I’m already in my grave.”

He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even look at you.

The smile on your lips wavers.

“You’re kidding, right?”

His hands tighten into fists at his sides. He still won’t look at you.

Your heart pounds a little faster “Law. Tell me you’re joking.”

Nothing.

The laugh that slips out this time is shaky “Come on, then this is the part where you tell me there’s some rare treatment, right? Some experimental surgery? You’re Trafalgar freakin’ Law, Surgeon of Death. There’s no way—”

“y/n.”

The way he says your name, quiet, strained, makes the air leave your lungs.

Your fingers curl against the fabric of your shirt. The examination table feels too cold beneath you. The walls feel like they’re closing in.

“No...” you whisper.

Law’s lips press into a thin line. His hands twitch, like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t.

“No” you say again, more forcefully this time. You shake your head, heat rising in your chest, crawling up your throat “You’re wrong. There’s... there’s gotta be something. You just haven’t figured it out yet. Right?”

“Y/N—”

“No!” The word cracks as it leaves you “I’m not dying!”

Your vision blurs. Your hands shake. And suddenly, it’s too much.

Your body moves before you can think, you push yourself off the table, right into his chest.

Law catches you instantly, arms wrapping around you, steady, grounding. And just like that, everything shatters.

“I don’t—I don’t want to die” you choke out, gripping his coat like it’s the only thing keeping you here “I want to stay. With you. I want—” Your voice breaks “I want a future. I want us to be happy. I want—”

A sob wracks through you.

“I want a family with you.”

Law stiffens.

The words spill out before you can stop them, you smile at him between your tears “A little version of you, all broody and nerdy and so so cute” You let out a wet laugh, broken and trembling “They’d probably scowl just like you, but they’d love books and have messy hair and—”

Your voice crumbles into sobs.

Law doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move.

And then his arms tighten around you, crushing, like he’s trying to hold you together, keep you from falling apart.

His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

“I’m going to save you.”

You want to believe him.

Only God knowa how much you want to believe him.

But the fear in his voice tells you even he isn’t sure.

The next morning, you wake up to find Law hunched over his desk, surrounded by stacks of medical books and scattered notes.

You sigh “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

“Sleep is a waste of time,” he mutters, scribbling something down “I need to go through every known case—”

“You need to stop already.”

He freezes.

Slowly, he turns to look at you. His dark circles are deeper than usual, his face unreadable, but you know him. You know that behind that impassive expression, he’s desperate.

You force a grin “If I really only have a little time left, do you really wanna waste it buried in books instead of spending it with me?”

Law’s fingers tighten around his pen.

“I’m not giving up” he says, voice low.

“I know,” you say gently “But I don’t want to spend my last time watching you drive yourself insane. If I’m gonna die, I wanna die happy.”

The words sting, but they’re true.

Law exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. He doesn’t respond.

You hop off the bed, stretching dramatically “Anyway, I’ve decided I’m done being sad. It’s exhausting. So I’m back, and better than ever!” You flash him a grin “That means full-time comedy and flirting, just for you, Captain!”

His brow twitches “Y/N...”

You wag a finger at him “Shh, let me have this.” You strike a pose “Behold, Trafalgar D. Law’s hottest, funniest girlfriend! Incurable disease edition!”

Nothing.

You pout “Wow. Tough crowd.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose “Why do I put up with this?”

“Because I’m irresistible,” you say, leaning closer “And because you love me.”

His breath hitches for just a second.

And then, quietly “Yeah.”

You blink. Your cheeks burn “Whoa, that was easier than I thought. If I’d known getting a lovely love confession was that easy, I would’ve faked a terminal disease ages ago.”

“Not funny” he mutters.

You snicker “Okay, okay, this one wasn't the best.”

Law sighs, shaking his head. But when he looks at you, his gaze lingers, like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he looks away.

And suddenly, the atmosphere shifts. Because this is too familiar to him.

The way you laugh, the way you grin like you aren’t dying, like none of this is real... it reminds him of Corazon. Always smiling. Always laughing. Even with blood in his mouth. Even when he knew he was going to die.

A lump forms in Law’s throat.

You notice his change in expression instantly “Hey. What’s wrong?”

His fingers twitch at his sides “Nothing” he lies.

But you see it in his eyes, the fear.

You sigh, stepping closer, reaching for his hands. His fingers are cold. You squeeze them.

“Law,” you say softly “I’m not trying to leave you behind. I just... I don’t want you to only remember me as the person who was sick, who died. I want you to remember me smiling. Happy. With you. Because that's what I am.”

His hands tighten around yours.

He doesn’t say anything. But when you squeeze his hands again, he squeezes back.

You think Law has finally accepted things.

You think he’s finally listening to you, finally spending time with you instead of drowning himself in books and medical theories. And for a while, he does.

He stays close, fingers brushing against yours when you walk, arms wrapping around you when he thinks no one is looking. Some nights, he holds you a little too tight, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

It makes you happy. It makes you feel alive. But then, he starts again.

The sleepless nights. The books. The notes. The obsessive, frantic research.

You wake up one night to find the bed empty.

Again.

With a sigh, you push yourself up. You grip the blanket, taking slow, even breaths, waiting for your vision to finally settles, you get up and pad toward Law’s office.

You don’t bother knocking.

“Law...”

He doesn’t look up. He’s hunched over his desk, surrounded by open books, pages filled with diagrams of Devil Fruits and medical notes scribbled in his messy handwriting. His coat is discarded on the chair, sleeves rolled up, hands gripping a pen so tightly his knuckles are white.

You frown “What are you doing?”

“Working.” His voice is hoarse.

“Yeah, I can see that, genius. But on what?”

He finally looks at you. There’s something wild in his eyes, desperation, determination, obsession.

You step closer. Your gaze flickers to the notes. And then your heart stops.

“Law,” you whisper, throat dry “Are you... are you trying to find me a Devil Fruit?”

“Not just any Devil Fruit,” he mutters, flipping a page. His fingers move fast, tracing over diagrams “Something similar to the Ope Ope no Mi. Something that could manipulate your body, enhance cellular regeneration, maybe even reprogram the disease out of you.”

Your stomach drops.

“Law.”

“I just need to find the right one.” He keeps going like he hasn’t heard you “There’s research, fragments of old studies, theories. If I can modify a fruit’s properties, or find a compatible—”

“Law!”

He flinches.

You swallow, hands shaking “You can’t just... you can’t force me to eat a Devil Fruit.”

He glares at you, jaw clenched “If it’s the only way to save you, then yes, I can.”

The air crackles between you.

For the first time, you see that he won’t stop. He won’t accept it. Not like you have.

You take a shaky breath “You’re trying to save me the same way Corazon saved you...”

His body tenses.

“You think if I eat a fruit like yours, I’ll survive just like you did.”

Silence.

“I won’t lose you” he whispers.

Your heart clenches.

You step closer, reaching for his face, cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch immediately, like he’s starved for it.

“Law,” you say softly “You can’t fix this, and it's okay.”

He squeezes his eyes shut “There’s always a way.”

You shake your head “Even if there is… do you really want to spend our last moments like this? Chasing something that might not even exist?”

His breath shudders against your palm.

For the first time, he doesn’t have an answer.

Law is different after that night.

He still spends hours in his office, buried in books, chasing after a cure that may not exist. He still barely sleeps, barely eats, his mind running in endless circles of calculations and medical theories.

But now he makes time for you.

It starts small. Sitting next to you on the deck, staring at the ocean in comfortable silence. Letting you lean against him while he reads, his hand absentmindedly brushing over yours.

Then, it becomes more. Stealing moments with you in the kitchen, pretending to help while you cook, though he mostly just watches you with those quiet, golden eyes. Taking you to watch the sunset, fingers grazing against yours but never quite holding on.

And sometimes, when he thinks no one is looking, he smiles.

It reminds you of something he once told you.

“Even now you’re trying to do what Corazon did for you, aren’t you?” you say one night, breaking the silence.

Law tenses beside you.

The two of you are lying on the bed, facing each other. It’s one of the rare nights he actually gets in bed with you instead of falling asleep at his desk. His fingers hover near your wrist, not quite touching, just barely brushing your skin.

He doesn’t answer right away. But you see it in his eyes.

“I’m not like him” he mutters.

You smile, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear “You’re right. From what you told me, he was goofier. More dramatic.”

His lips twitch “That sounds more like you.”

“Maybe,” you hum “But you’re doing exactly what he did. You’re trying to give me happy memories while working yourself to death behind my back.”

His eyes darken.

You brush a hand against his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there. He looks exhausted, but you know that no matter what you tell him, he won’t stop.

“You can’t save everyone, Law” you whisper.

His grip tightens around the sheets “I can save you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling softly.

“Then at least promise me something” you murmur.

He waits.

“When I go—”

“You’re not—”

“When I go,” you say again, firmer this time, “I want you to keep going. Don’t disappear. Don’t close yourself off.”

Law stares at you, his expression unreadable.

“You think I could just move on?” he finally asks, voice raw.

“I think,” you say, fingers brushing against his, “that you deserve to be happy.”

He doesn’t answer.

But later that night, when he thinks you’re asleep, you feel his hand finally take yours. And for the first time, you wonder who’s more afraid of losing the other, you or him.

For the first time in weeks, Law looks alive.

He bursts into the Polar Tang’s main room, eyes sharp, steps quick, movements filled with purpose. His coat flares behind him as he scans the room, spotting the Heart Pirates scattered around, Shachi and Penguin bickering, Bepo munching on a snack, Ikkaku polishing her tools.

“All of you,” he orders, voice firm, urgent “Meeting. Now.”

The crew blinks at him.

“Whoa, Captain, you good?” Penguin asks, tilting his head “You look—”

“Awake,” Shachi finishes “Which is weird, considering you haven’t slept in days.”

“Meeting. Now.” Law repeats, already turning toward the control room.

Bepo exchanges glances with the others before nodding “Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the crew is gathered. The room is tense, because they can feel it. Something has changed.

Law places both hands on the table, looking at them with determination burning in his golden eyes.

“I’ve found a cure.”

Silence.

Then Penguin nearly chokes “Wait, what?!”

“You...” Shachi’s eyes widen “You’re serious?”

Bepo’s ears twitch “Captain…”

Law nods, rolling out a hand-drawn diagram of an unknown Devil Fruit.

“It’s called the Vita Vita no Mi,” he explains “A Devil Fruit that enhances the body’s ability to regenerate and purge diseases. It was recorded in old medical texts from over a century ago, lost, believed to be a myth. But I found something.”

He flips to another page.

“There were reports of this fruit appearing in a black-market trade just over a decade ago. Tracked to an island in the Grand Line.” His gaze hardens “We’re going there.”

The crew stares.

“You mean—” Ikkaku leans forward “You mean there’s a chance?”

“A damn good one,” Law says “If I can get my hands on this fruit, if I can modify its effects, then Y/N...”

He stops. Swallows.

“Then she survives.”

The weight of his words hits the crew all at once.

Shachi exhales sharply “Tell us what you need, Captain.”

Penguin nods “We’re in.”

Bepo clenches his fist “We’ll get that fruit.”

Law looks at them, the family he’s built, the people who trust him without question.

“Set course,” he orders “We leave now.”

And for the first time since this nightmare started, there’s hope.

The ship cuts through the Grand Line’s turbulent waters, the Polar Tang moving faster than it has in weeks. There’s a sense of urgency now, an undercurrent of hope that the crew has never felt before.

Law is different. His usual calm, stoic nature is there, but there’s a fire behind his eyes, a purpose that drives every action. He barely sleeps, constantly working to map out the island, planning for the worst.

Every night, before he goes to bed, he checks on you. His hands are gentle, his gaze searching, but he says nothing. He only watches you breathe, listens to the soft rise and fall of your chest.

In those moments, you think he’s not sure if you’ll be there when he returns.

But when he talks about the cure, when he speaks of the Vita Vita no Mi, the miracle fruit, you see the fire again. Hope.

And for a while, you let yourself believe.

Days pass. The island is in sight.

Law stands at the bow of the ship, eyes fixed on the shore.

“Keep steady” he commands, his voice cold, calculated.

You’re on the deck, staring at the sky as the island draws nearer. You’ve grown weaker over the past few days. The disease is ravaging your body, and you can feel it. But you smile through it, just like you promised.

Bepo stays by your side, as always. The big polar bear mink is there, standing guard, just as loyal as ever. His presence is a small comfort to you, he’s worried, you can tell, but he never presses.

You want to get up, join the crew, help them find the cure, but Bepo gently guides you back down when you try to stand, his big paw resting on your shoulder.

Bepo says softly “Captain’s got this.”

Law approaches, his figure towering over you, the weight of his gaze unmistakable.

“I’m going with you,” you say, your voice light, teasing “No way I’m letting you get all the glory, Captain.”

He crouches in front of you, his eyes softer than they’ve been in days.

“You’re staying here with Bepo.”

You blink at him “You don’t trust me to keep up with you?”

He smiles, just barely. It’s small, fleeting, but it’s there.

“Stay here, please.” His voice is quiet, almost a plea.

You want to argue, but the look in his eyes stops you.

You smile at him, though the effort is exhausting “I’ll just be here… waiting.”

The crew disembarks, heading into the thick jungle, with Law leading the charge. The air is thick, the path winding and treacherous. It’s as though the island doesn’t want them to succeed. But they don’t stop.

The days blur together as they search, scouring every inch of the land, every forest, every cave. Law is relentless. The fruit is out there. He knows it. He can feel it.

And then a blast of sound cuts through the jungle, a distant rumble that echoes in the air. Law’s eyes widen, his body tensing. Without a word, he sprints while teleporting himself.

The crew follows quickly, but the jungle seems to twist itself around them, the path becoming harder and more dangerous as they go.

Law doesn’t care. He’s focused on one thing now: getting back to you.

You’re lying on the deck, growing weaker by the minute, your breath shallow. You know the end is near.

But Bepo stays with you, his warm presence a steady anchor. He’s the one who brings you water, who keeps you from slipping into a fevered daze. He’s the one who makes sure you’re comfortable, even as your body is slowly shutting down.

“Hang in there,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face “Captain will bring the cure back. I know he will.”

You want to reassure him, to tell him not to worry, but the words won’t come.

You reach for his paw weakly, and he holds your hand with surprising tenderness.

Hours pass. The night grows darker, and the crew has yet to return. The air is thick with tension.

Finally, the sound of heavy footsteps reaches the deck.

Law appears, drenched in sweat, his face hard but his eyes alive.

“Y/N…” His voice cracks as he kneels beside you, his hands immediately going to your face, checking for fever, your pulse.

“You found it?” you whisper, barely able to speak.

He nods, not trusting his voice. He opens his pack, pulling out the Vita Vita no Mi, the fruit wrapped carefully in cloth.

But before he can do anything, you stop him with a hand on his wrist.

“Law… don’t…” You cough, a weak laugh escaping you “I don’t know if it’ll work… if it’s too late…”

“No,” he insists, his voice desperate “It will work. I won’t let you—”

“I just wanted to be with you,” you whisper, the words barely audible “I wanted to see you happy… with me.”

Bepo steps back, his heart heavy, but he’s still there, watching over you.

Law hesitates, his eyes locked on yours. The fruit still rests in his hand, but he can’t bring himself to do it—not yet.

“Please,” you whisper, weakly gripping his hand “Just stay… stay with me.”

He looks at you, the flicker of fear in his eyes, fear of losing you, the same fear he’s been running from since Corazon.

“I won’t leave you,” Law says softly “I promised, remember?”

The crew now waits in the background, hearts clenched in their chests. They don’t speak. They don’t breathe.

The night stretches on, heavy with anticipation. But nothing happens.

Law continues to hold the fruit, watching you closely, waiting for a sign, a flicker of hope. But you’ve grown so still. The seconds feel like hours, and when Law finally lifts the fruit to your lips, your eyes flicker open again, meeting his.

You smile, the faintest of smiles.

“I’m sorry for not being stronger…” You pause, each word coming with effort, but you press on “But you have to live, okay? You have to keep going. Don’t waste your life… Please… don’t waste it… for me.”

His eyes widen in shock, and a single tear slips down his cheek.

“I can’t lose you” he whispers, his voice breaking.

But you just smile faintly, your hand weakly squeezing his “Even if this won't work, I need you to know you already saved me… You gave me this life, this love. Now live it, for both of us.”

Your eyes flutter shut once more, and the world holds its breath.

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