Dear My Friends, | ONE PIECE VARIOUS x Reader

Prologue. child of the arrow.

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You are seated on the ground, legs kneeled neatly onto the ragged floor. Your lips tighten to form a straight line, and despite the urge to shout out an unfair complaint, you remain quiet. The furnace lights in flame as the smell of molten ore reaches your nose. Your father gives you a pointed glance. He realises you are bored, but keeps his calm with the handling of iron. Fists scrunching, you pout.

"This isn't fair, dad," you say, eyes dulled and narrowed in retaliation. He grabs the metal, placing it onto the anvil.

"Nothing is fair in life," your father replies, hammer now in hand. His left arm motions for you to stand up.

You lift yourself from the dirty mat. Both hands reach to flatten your skirt, dusting off the small remains of mud. The holes in the fabric of your skirt have gotten more noticeable, you think, the blank white was no more as its pretty colour had turned a dark brown.

"We should get you a new skirt soon," says your father. He guilty averts his attention, but the tilt of his lips tell you more than enough.

You shake your head, though his rebuttals do not stop. Your legs move and allow you to stand behind your father's figure. He tenses, hammer in his hand feeling the tightened clasp. Your father was the one in need of new clothes, not you. His tattered shirt was loose-fitting, sleeves falling nothing beyond the elbow, and his pants were barely held up with the use of a belt. The man who was once said to be one of the greatest marines, you note, is only your father. An ordinary man. He does not stop. You wrap your arms around him.

You close your eyes, melting into the forced embrace of his strained back. "There's no need for that."

"Of course there is," your father whispers. He finally lets go of his hammer, voice trembling in something akin to worry. "You're my world, so you deserve everything and more. I won't settle for anything less."

"Dad, seriously!" you exclaim, unwrapping your arms and standing back. Your right hand finds itself seated at the edge of your hip.

Your father lets a hearty laugh escape the confines of his chapped mouth. He attempts to stand strong, but he coughs, more than once, rather than chuckles. You note the crushed charcoal that coats a layer of his skin, the scar that decorates his nose, and the red patch that covers the past of his journey. He is brave and more than that. There is no man stronger than your father, you are sure.

He ignores your screeches, grabbing you into his sturdy arms. "Don't get all shy on me, [name]."

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. A cool breeze of air splashes against the warmth of your home. "There's no fighting you..."

"You're the only thing I need in my life," says you. Breathless, you ignore the tears that threaten your eyes. Your father sets you down, the outline of his drawn thumb meets the roll of skin that frames the lower of your eye lids. He nods and smiles.

Your father laughs again, but this time, he does not wheeze. There is no pain you spot in his sincere words. Instead, he continues to laugh until he can no longer do so. You resist the need to comment; his happiness is beautiful. It makes you think of fireworks. He shines once the sky reaches its limit, but halts upon the realisation of attention. All that is left happens to be debris and metal. More than alike to your father, it's a memory everlasting in eternal space. The furrow of his brows follows a neat crease.

"[name], let's go see the fireworks later," your father replies. He seems to know you too well. You huff, facing the other direction.

You act oblivious to his tease, opting to say, "Okay."