Sᴡɪᴍᴍɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴅᴅɪsʜ ʜᴇʟʟ. Eᴜsᴛᴀss ᴋɪᴅ.

39. His True Love

After the war, you had gotten a lot of people surprised at the fall of Akainu. You felt proud of yourself for what you did. Soon enough, you'd make yourself as strong as your father, that was a promise.

You were sitting at your fathers house with everyone who participated. Law was bandaging up Ace before moving onto your father. They both were in terrible shape and if Law didn't mend to them, they would've died

A sigh escaped your lips, one of relief as Law gave them both antibiotics to help them heal faster as well as stop the burning pain of magma or deep cuts. You hated seeing them hurt but you couldn't do anything, Akainu was gone; to your knowledge.

You got off the couch and walked upstairs heading into your bedroom. It looked the same from the first night you had with Kid. A frown made its way onto your lips as you turned away from the sight, heading towards your balcony doors that you always kept hidden with curtains.

The closer you got, the more you realized you never actually used the balcony. Opening the curtains that blocked the glass doors, more sunlight poured into your room— dust particles floating in the air from the harsh movement of the curtain.

Your hand went to the door handle of the door, only for it to be locked. Little you had a key but you didn't know where exactly it was. Your room has evolved as you grew, it looked the same from back then; before you left for college and never returned.

It was obvious your father had them keep your room clean but nobody dared to touch the curtains. You instructed they always stay closed and the balcony doors were never to be opened. Why? You didn't even have a clear picture as to why.

There were many reasons why. You tried to push your father off of it once when you were just a little eight-year old. That thought made your eyes begin to water. Even whenever you attempted to kill him, he still looked at you with love. Ace looked at you the same. Only recently did you know why; he tried to do the same.

Only a few hours ago, your father was on his last breath, holding on as he was constantly being pierced by knives from people he thought were his allies. The more you thought about it— your body began to warm up; radiating a glowing red light.

Your hand rested on the door handles of the balcony doors— the flames starting to burn them. Snapping back into reality, you stumbled back; your flames disappearing. You looked at your open closet, a dart board with a picture of your father pinned to it.

As a teenager, you respected your father and went to him when you had issues; but you would throw darts at the board whenever you didn't like him. He knew about it yet said nothing. It's like he accepted it. You chuckled at the thought. He always loved you dearly.

You stepped away from the door and began to look around your room for a key possibly laying around or in a box. Walking to your closet, you looked up at a shelf. There was a heart shaped box; you never remember having such a thing.

You reached your arms out and grabbed the box. It was sealed off completely and was made of wood. There was a heart carved into the top of the wood and it read the full name your father gave you after your adoption.

Whenever someone asked you your last name as a child, you never answered or said you hated it so you never spoke about it. Only once you hit age ten did you accept being called Hyde or (Y/N)— before that, everyone called you Jekyll. During your primary school years, you never made friends because the other children were scared of you.

To them; your attitude was intimidating. Your old parents had a connection to you, and they all knew who they were. You would get picked on by some of the braver kids; they'd make fun of you, calling you a curse or the devils child. It always got to you when you were just a little girl.