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mourn with the moon and the stars up above

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Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Strawhat Pirates.

Monkey D. Luffy, holy terror to any government official.

Monkey D. Luffy, the new pirate king.

Monkey D. Luffy, a broken man who’s dreams were reached with no one by his side.

It wasn’t joyful, this final journey of his. It was nothing short of painful and a stab at his heart with every step he took away from the corpses of his nakama, his friends, his father figure --

He’d accomplished what so many were unable to. He’d accomplished the goal he’d set for himself when he was only a child, the goal Red-Haired Shanks put into his heart. He’d accomplished greatness, a walking symbol of power and made history with every breath he breathed.

He’d accomplished what he always wanted, but he limped through the difficult terrain with no one to stand with him and blood staining scarred, battered, and bruised hands.

It was a mountain, a peaceful, heavenly mountain that would have had stars in Franky’s eyes as he imagined what kind of base he’d build there; a gentle appreciation and awe in Robin’s as she took in the serene scene before her; an excited glimmer in Chopper’s as he went scurrying around in search of herbs and plants he could make more medicine’s from; a shining, pure joy in Nami’s as she’d dream of charting it with her own two hands; a childish sort of thirst for adventure in Zoro and Usopp’s; a soft relief that would make blue eyes shine in Sanji’s.


They didn’t make it there with him.

His feet hit the summit as the tears finally fell freely from his tired eyes.

His legs failed him as the pain in his heart forced itself to the surface fully.

His voice echoed over the lands and out to the ocean as he let out sobs and screams to reach the heavens.

A gentle, airy hand fell onto his shoulder, and looking back, he knew what he wanted.


“Give me one more chance.”


Time seemed to stop for the small child who sat on the sandy beach, watching as the sea breeze helped spray mist from the waves into the evening air.

Garp, sitting a ways away from him, noticed his sudden stiffness in his grandson and became curious. He stood and stretched for a moment, only taking a few steps before a massive wave of conqueror’s haki pulsed from the tiny form, knocking the older man to his knees, shock painted across his features.

“It worked? It worked!” The small voice of five year old Monkey D. Luffy called as he leaped into the air, turning to look at Garp once he’d landed. In eyes that previously held nothing but childish innocence, a darkened pain and the look of a weathered soldier resided within the giddiness. “Gramps! Gramps, I have to tell you stuff, lots of stuff, so you can get rid of a rabid dog!”

All the old man could do was nod.