serpents of smoke | ASL Fic

Kefi - One

The name on Luffy's arm burned flaming hot—feeling as the mark fought against the bandages, he winced. For whatever reason, the soulmark was resistant to the plasters. Luffy's hands remained steady as he bound the gauze snugly around his forearm, feigning ignorance to the uncomfortable itch that settled underneath his skin. Shanks' words echoed like a bell, ringing obnoxiously throughout his head: "This name? Gol D. Ace? It's dangerous, Luffy."  Even now, when Shanks had since been gone, his voice was as clear as the day Luffy first heard it.

He scowled down at the printed name on his arm, now swamped in yellowing bandages, at the request of Shanks. He didn't quite like the thought of hiding something that was supposed to be precious, but he did it regardless.

Luffy, before his fateful encounter with Shanks, hadn't given much thought to the concept of soulmates. But when Shanks had barged into his life, he'd been reluctantly entranced by the idea of a fated individual—someone who was so deeply intertwined with your soul, that it was hard to find where you began and they ended (or, that's what the Mayor always said). He liked Shanks' version of soulmates more; destined to meet each other and to be connected in a way, but to your own choosing—it seemed like a freer way of thinking—

"Luffy, stop glaring at your arm," a voice called from behind Luffy. He swivelled around, garnering whiplash from the swift movement, but Luffy merely cringed. A grin broke the grimace when he realized who the demanding voice belonged to—Makino! "You look like you're considering eating it." She murmured, not unkindly. Her smile was warm, much like her presence, but Luffy knew if he were to touch her hand, her skin would be cold to the touch (poor blood circulation, had been Makino's reasoning, but Luffy liked to think she was a vampire). Despite this, her hand reached for his black locks, settling there for a moment. She regarded his appearance with a critical eye. "I need to get you some new clothes, huh..." Makino's fingers carded through his hair, absently.

The seven-year-old huffed, swatting away the hand with little force. "I wasn't going to eat it!" His eyes trailed back to his arm, the bandages resting uncomfortably on his skin, even now. They were far too itchy, uncontrollably so. He'd need new ones soon—but he would have to ask Makino, and he'd rather not. She always responded with a sad look; pity. It made his stomach turn.

Luffy grunted, something akin to an animal as his thoughts wandered toward the image of food; meat in particular. The thought of the bandages being uncomfortable was quickly forgotten about. "I sure hope you won't," Makino chortled, the sound light to Luffy's ears—the woman grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the alleyway he'd found himself in (complete coincidence that it'd been the one he'd had his conversation with Shanks in, by the way). He followed along, begrudgingly, his thoughts now solely conjuring the image of meat up. He was so damn hungry!

He said as much, "Makino," Luffy drew out her name, a whine in his voice, "I'm hungry!"

She managed a sigh, well-used to the boy's antics: "In a minute, Luffy. Your grandfather is here, and I'd rather avoid him terrorizing the town to find you." Luffy shuddered at the notion—he was sure the blood had drained from his face.

"Gramps is here?" He screeched, a reasonable terror gripping his words; he dug his feet into the ground, desperately attempting to slow down the inevitable. "No, no! Makino! Please, please, don't bring me to him! I swear I'll be good!" He stopped entirely, managing to rip his hand away from Makino's, with superhuman strength for a seven-year-old. "Look, I'm not even hungry anymore! Please, don't bring me to that old geezer?" He pleaded, his voice a higher pitch than usual; true horror encompassed each word.

Deploying the only tactic he knew, he used puppy-dog-eyes. That would've worked if his head hadn't promptly been smashed in by a rock-solid fist a second later. Followed by a quip of, "That's new!" When his rubber skin bent from the harsh fist. The impact was unforgiving and the pain was immediate but familiar. He shouted in alarm, withering from the effects of his Gramps' infamous "Fist of Love", which Luffy dreaded during each visit from his grandfather. "You damned brat! Who do you think you are?" Garp roared from above him, towering over him like an almighty god—one that was severely angered. "Where do you go off thinking you can call me Old Geezer, eh? Damn brat, show some respect to your Grandpa!" Another fist to the head to punctuate his point—Luffy grimaced, the pain ricocheting throughout his body because of his Devil Fruit.