Bonds [Eustass Kid x reader]

Prologue [landfall.]

Fuck.

My.

Life.

Your sore fingers dug into the sand of the beach. It was soaked, grainy, and it crumbled in your trembling grasp.

I'm alive.

A sudden sting spread to your lungs and you coughed a mixture of saltwater and phlegm on the foreshore, wheezing for air, unable to stop at the burning in your throat and chest.

Your fists grasped at the sand with more rage, more desperation.

I'm on land. I made it. Holy shit.

Still coughing, you difficultly rose on your four. All your limbs were aching and shaking, but they didn't betray you. Your hand rose to harshly wipe the salt away from your eyes, smearing them with sand instead.

After a few long minutes, your lungs seemed to finally loose their tension and allowed the oxygen to flow in.

«Worst landfall ever.»

Daring to open your eyes, you fell on your knees and glanced around.

The beach was thin and silent, saved for the quiet dirge of the waves. The jungle loomed in front of you, bright green.

Wano?

You pushed your knotted hair away from your face.

Despite the disastrous attempt to navigate the last tract of sea by yourself, you managed to crash onto a desert shore, which was good.

It wasn't the brightest idea, to ride the giant koi carps, but it was also the only one you could think of. One carp was enough for your small tender, but the beast was strong, and restless. The muscles of your arms almost tore apart from the body as you tried to rein the fish in and up the giant cascade. The water was merciless, your craft shattered, but you desperately clung to the fish as long as you could.

You didn't know when you let go. At some point it became too much and you surrendered to the crazy currents.

You frowned as your mind retraced the events. Some luck at last.

A sharp pain in your back reminded you weren't exactly unscathed. You remembered, at some point before losing consciousness (or maybe at that moment exactly), a blinding shot up your spine as you spiralled in the darkness of the sea.

But if I hit a rock of something, why am I not broken?

Something caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

My rifle!

The sudden relief in seeing the weapon laying in the sand, just a few feet away from you, was quickly replaced by panic as you realized it wasn't bent in the right way.

No no no no no no no no.

You shuffled toward it, immediately grabbing the wet metal.

«Stray...»

The barrel was irremediably fractured. You tried the trigger and met a stripped mechanism. The chambers for the magazines were all bent inward.

You swallowed thickly and lowered the rifle on your thighs, defeated. It was strapped on your back when you were taken by the sea, and must had made contact with the rocks first.

«You took the blow for me, buddy.»

It probably saved your life. Again.

Your fingers ran across the contorted barrel.