Chapter 85: Back Home
The Going Merry's deck rushed up to meet him.
Luffy hit the railing with his shoulder, the wood cracking under the impact. He bounced once, rolled across the deck, and slammed into the base of the mast. The ship shuddered. The sails flapped. Somewhere, a rope snapped.
He lay there, staring up at the grey sky, his chest heaving, his body screaming. His arm was still stretched behind him, his fingers still wrapped around the air he'd grabbed a mile back. He let go. The arm snapped back to normal, smacking against his side.
He didn't move. Couldn't move. His muscles were gone. His bones were lead. His lungs were burning holes through his chest. Every breath was a fight. Every heartbeat was a war.
The sky above him was clearing. The clouds were breaking apart, the rain finally stopping, patches of blue appearing between the grey. The sun was setting somewhere behind them, painting the undersides of the clouds orange and pink. It was beautiful. He didn't care.
He closed his eyes.
The fight replayed behind his lids. Smoker's face. The smoke filling the square. The jitte cutting through the air. The sound of his own fists connecting with something that shouldn't have been solid. The feeling of his Haki holding, finally holding, wrapping around his knuckles like a second skin.
He'd felt it. For the first time, he'd really felt it. Not a flicker. Not a flash. Something solid. Something that stayed.
His fist had hit Smoker's chest, and Smoker had felt it. Had coughed blood. Had fallen. Had looked up at him like he was seeing something he'd never seen before.
Luffy smiled. His split lip cracked, and blood welled up, and he kept smiling.
Footsteps pounded across the deck.
"LUFFY!"
Nami's voice. She was there before he could open his eyes, her hands on his face, her fingers pressing against his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw. Checking for damage. Counting his wounds.
"Luffy, Luffy, look at me. Open your eyes. OPEN YOUR EYES."
He opened them. Her face was inches from his. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, cutting tracks through the dirt and rain. Her hair was a mess, plastered to her face, tangled and wild. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"Hey," he said. His voice came out as a croak.
"HEY? HEY? You fly out of the sky and crash into our ship and all you can say is HEY?" She was crying harder now, her hands shaking against his face. "You idiot. You complete and total idiot. You could have died. You should have died. Smoker—"
"I hit him."
She stopped.
Luffy's smile widened. Blood ran down his chin. "I hit him. The whole time. I hit him and he couldn't... he couldn't..." He coughed, and his ribs screamed, and he didn't care. "His smoke. He thought I couldn't touch him. But I could. I could."
Zoro appeared above him. His face was hard, but his eyes were sharp, cataloging every wound, every bruise, every cut. "You're bleeding. A lot."
"Yeah."
"Your ribs are cracked."
"Yeah."
"Your arm is purple from shoulder to elbow."
Luffy looked at his arm. It was, in fact, purple from shoulder to elbow. He hadn't noticed. "Smoker's jitte. Sea Prism Stone. Took my strength every time it hit me." He looked back at Zoro. "I still hit him more."
Zoro's lips twitched. Not quite a smile. "Sounds like a fair trade."
Sanji pushed through, a bag of medical supplies in his hands. He dropped to his knees beside Luffy, already pulling out bandages, salves, anything he could find. His hands were steady, but his jaw was tight. "You're going to need stitches. Multiple. And you're going to need to stay still for about a week while your ribs heal."
"I can't stay still for a week."
"You're going to try."
Luffy looked at Sanji. At the tight line of his mouth, the furrow between his brows. "He was fast. Faster than anyone I've fought. His smoke was everywhere. Couldn't see. Couldn't breathe." He coughed again, and Sanji's hands were there, lifting his head, pressing something against his lips. Water. He drank, coughed more, drank again. "But I figured it out. The Haki. It stayed. It finally stayed."
Usopp was there now, hovering behind Nami, his face pale, his eyes wide. "You used Haki? Against Smoker? Against a Logia?"
"The whole fight. Not at first. It kept... flickering. I'd hit him and then I couldn't. He'd hit me with the jitte and my strength would go, and my Haki would go with it. But then..." Luffy's eyes drifted to the sky, to the clouds breaking apart, to the first stars appearing in the deepening blue. "Then I got angry."
Nami's hand tightened on his face. "Angry?"
"At him. At myself. At the Haki for not working. At the jitte for draining me. At everything." His voice was quiet. "And it just... stayed. I could feel it. Wrapped around my fists. Solid. Real. And every time I hit him, he felt it. Every time. He couldn't escape. Couldn't dissolve. Couldn't run." He smiled again, blood on his teeth. "He tried. He tried to smoke away, and my fists found him anyway."
Johnny and Yosaku were there now, standing behind the others, their faces a mixture of awe and horror. Johnny's voice was barely a whisper. "You beat Smoker?"
"Almost. I almost beat him." Luffy's smile faded. "The Gear ran out. The Haki went with it. I couldn't... I couldn't hold it. And he had the jitte again, and he was on top of me, and I couldn't move." He touched his throat, where the bruise was already forming, a dark ring around his windpipe. "He was going to kill me. He had the jitte on my throat and he was going to kill me."
The crew went silent.
Luffy's hand dropped. He stared at the sky, at the stars coming out, at the last of the clouds disappearing. "Then something hit him. Something threw him across the square. I didn't see what. I didn't stop to look. I just ran. I stretched and I ran and I found the ship and I..." He laughed. It hurt. He laughed anyway. "I almost missed."
"You did miss," Usopp said. "You hit the railing."
"I hit the railing."
Nami's hands were shaking again. "Who saved you? Who threw Smoker?"
He thought about the figure in the shadows. The cloak. The stillness. The way Smoker had flown across the square like he weighed nothing. The way the figure had just watched him, not moving, not speaking, just... waiting.
He thought about the face he'd seen in the split second before he turned away. The tattoo curling across the cheek. The eyes that were the same as his own.
His father.
Revolutionary Army. Most wanted man in the world. The man who had abandoned him with Garp, who had let him grow up in Foosha Village, who had never written, never visited, never explained.
Dragon had saved his life.
He smiled. Not because it was funny. Because it was the most absurd thing that had ever happened to him, and that was saying something.
"I don't know," he said. "I didn't see."
The lie came easy. Too easy. He didn't want to explain. Didn't want to talk about the man in the cloak. Didn't want to think about why his father had been there, why he'd waited, why he'd stepped in at the last second. He didn't want to think about any of it.
He wanted to lie on this deck with his crew around him and pretend that the most wanted man in the world hadn't just saved his life.
Nami's hand was still on his chest. "You're smiling. Why are you smiling?"
"Almost died. Got to fight a Logia. My Haki worked." He looked at her. "That's a good day."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed, wet and broken, and pressed her face against his shoulder again. "You're insane."
"I know."
Sanji's hands were on his ribs now, pressing, feeling. Luffy hissed. "Those are definitely cracked. Multiple. You're lucky you didn't puncture a lung."
"Lucky," Luffy agreed.
Nami's hands moved from his face to his chest, pressing flat against his heart. Feeling it beat. Counting the rhythm. "Don't ever do that again."
He looked at her. Her face was still wet. Her eyes were still red. Her hands were shaking. But she was here. They were all here. His crew. His family. The people he'd fought for, bled for, almost died for.
"I'm not making any promises," he said.
She hit him. Her fist connected with his shoulder, the purple one, the one that was bruised from elbow to shoulder. He yelped. She hit him again. "You idiot. You complete and utter idiot."
"Ow. Ow. Nami, that hurts."
"GOOD."
Sanji was wrapping bandages around his arm, tight, professional. "You need to rest. Real rest. No training. No fighting. No stretching across the sky to catch up to a moving ship."
"That was pretty cool though."
"It was insane."
"It was both," Zoro said. His arms were crossed, his back against the mast, his eyes on the horizon. "Cool and insane. That's what we're signing up for."
Luffy looked at his first mate. At the swordsman who had followed him from Shells Town, who had fought Mihawk, who had gotten new swords in Loguetown, who had found something that looked like Kuina and maybe, just maybe, let himself want something new. "I hit a Logia, Zoro. I hit a man made of smoke."
Zoro's eyes met his. "I know."
"Haki works. It really works. We can learn it. Both of us. All of us."
Zoro nodded slowly. "We'll get there."
The ship was moving. The wind was filling the sails. The harbor was gone, the town was gone, the island was shrinking behind them. Ahead was open water. Ahead was the Grand Line.
Nami was still pressed against him, her hand on his chest, her face buried in his shoulder. He could feel her crying. He didn't say anything. He just let her.
Sanji finished the bandages and sat back. "You're going to be sore for a week."
"I'm sore now."
"That's the beginning."
Usopp was finally smiling, the fear fading from his face, something like hope taking its place. "We're really going to the Grand Line. We're really doing this."
Johnny and Yosaku whooped, the sound echoing across the deck, and Sanji was laughing, and Usopp was telling some story about how he'd almost single-handedly saved the ship from Buggy's fleet, and Zoro was rolling his eyes, and Nami was holding on.
Luffy lay on the deck, his crew around him, his ship beneath him, his future ahead of him. His body was broken. His ribs were cracked. His arm was purple. His throat was bruised. He had almost died. He had almost lost. He had flown across the sky on rubber arms and crashed into his own ship.
He was smiling.
"Hey, Nami."
She lifted her head. Her face was a mess. Her eyes were red. Her cheeks were wet. Her nose was running. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"Yeah?"
"How long until we reach the Grand Line?"
She stared at him. Then she laughed. It was wet and broken and perfect. "You're bleeding on the deck."
"That's not an answer."
"A few days. Maybe less if the wind holds."
Luffy's smile widened. He looked up at the sky, at the stars spreading across the darkness, at the path they would follow, the sea they would cross, the adventures waiting for them.
"A few days," he said.
"Until the Grand Line."
He closed his eyes, and he let the ship carry him forward.