@shukkou
He remembered screaming.
Deaf noises pounding at his eardrums, the vibration enough to indicate there was something belting out of his throat until it was raw. The both of them had been separated long ago for good reason; protect their crew, their new ship, the beating heart and soul of the band Luffy had drawn together. Even with the wounds of Thriller Bark raw, biting, aching, he fought as dangerously as he would without them. Fought until they were ambushed and overwhelmed, until the sound of Luffy crying out in pain after coming in contact with a weapon made of sea prism stone put him in a rage that bled fire into the center of his irises, lowering his guard just enough for one of the bounty hunters to slap heavy metal bindings on his wrists to keep him from using his weapons.
He wasn’t useless without his hands, but he couldn’t have protected Luffy from that many of them. The first few kicks and the calculated aim of his trapped fists landed heavy but fell short, the stronger of their enemies knocking him aside with relative ease. Every time he’d fallen, he would push himself back up, fight against the opening wounds to knock back their advances with weapons that brought his captain to his knees, Zoro snarling and barking profanities at them like a rabid dog as he attempted to ward them off.
It had come to the third time they discarded him that his hands were shaking, blood dampening his heat flushed skin and stinging his eyes, that he stared down at the restriction binding his wrists together and came to the conclusion that he was more useful without them. It was a mistake on their part to disregard him in favor of their real target, the hollow sound of him slamming his hands into the ground over and over dull in comparison to their triumph. By the time they noticed him again, bloody fingers had already tightened around the hilt of each sword, feet pivoting into the ground, every shred of ire and vengeance dialing into a single point with one purpose – to cut them down.
“Nitoryu iai ——
RASHOMON.”
Somehow, amid the chaos, he found the strength to collect Luffy onto his back and run. The trees would help them there, provide cover for their escape as it took them deeper into the winding woods beyond Zoro’s comprehension. As long as he could feel the bated breath against his shoulder, he could shove himself forward on instinct alone. They would find the ship later once they were safe. “Luffy.”
It was a hollow call - the bestial howl of a feral beast cornered into raw violence, he would not lose everything, he would not fall - he was the CAPTAIN, theirs was his weight to carry, and as each hissing rush of steam scalded away years of life from a tenuous future, he fought with every ounce of himself.
It hurt, of course - it hurt like hell, as his limbs lost their vigor, his blood dulled to a standstill, a blade tipped with the power of the ocean itself embedded into the ligament between shoulder and nape. But he did not cry out in agony, he knew Zoro was beside him, he knew his precious friend was hurt, injured by something unknown to him, prior, and he was supposed to be strong enough to protect them all.
If he couldn’t keep a single friend safe, who was he to call himself a KING?
“G - omu.. GOMU No - ....”
Ragged breaths, stained with a copper taste, could barely force out the words, and suddenly, a palm hit the blood-stained grass beneath them, managing to hold the boy’s entire weight, lifting him just enough to swing a tired, somewhat limp thigh out in an arc, utilizing the fact his body, though weakened by Kairoseki, would never cease to stretch.
“MUCHI!”
Several bastards, along with the perpetrator who had managed to stab him from behind, went flying across the field of battle, and his vision faded.
It was hot, everything was hot - the world, his body, this grass - the captain of the Mugiwara Kaizokudan fell in an almost graceful motion, skin no longer carrying the reddish sheen of Gear Second.
“ - - YADDA, MINNA - - ? ?”
A strained bark, and those wild eyes flashed open, a sudden grip on a broad shoulder tightening into a vice, as he forced himself into a conscious state by sheer will alone.
It was a body, below him, and a familiar smell, albeit mixed with a great deal of blood...
“Zoro - ? ZORO! Na - is everyone ok?
We gotta - we gotta find them, you, you gotta get to Chopper - -
I’ll kick their asses, just put me down!”
