Deadlines
Summary: You are a straw hat pirate who has been stranded on a unknown island after the events of Sabaody and your entire crew was flown across the world. You are expected to train to become better, to become stronger for your crew. But you already done what you could on that island and it's only been three months. Law has heard rumors of a island with a new kind of plague one that spread from a rare gold. This hit home for him and so he went to investigates this island only to find you running amuck. You come up with the brilliant idea to join Law's crew temporarily so you can train. Law realizes the two of you have a shared history and reluctantly agrees but your on a deadline to return to your crew and your time together is limited.
Trafalgar Law x gn!reader
Word count: 9,592
A/N: It's been a while since I posted a Law x Reader fic, but as I was going through my notion board I realized I had written this many months ago and just never posted it. This also is a good break from the ROTTMNT fic I just finished posting. Anyways, this is a cute and sweet one shot but let me know if you want to see a part 2.
Law and the Heart Pirates had been following rumors for weeks of an island everyone was afraid to approach. The village, according to reports, had been devastated by plague. Even the Marines, those fearless government dogs, refused to set foot on it. And that was precisely why Law's interest was piqued.
The island sat at the edge of the Calm Belt, small and weathered, its docks showing signs of abandonment. Law expected decay. He expected emptiness. What he didn't expect was for the village to appear strangely normal.
The moment Law's boot touched the dock, every head in the village turned toward him simultaneously. Shock rippled across their faces like a wave. A few of the braver townspeople stepped forward, curiosity overriding their caution. Among them was a child who hid shyly behind his mother's leg.
"Are you a Marine?" the kid asked, his small voice barely carrying across the dock.
Law glanced down at his outfit, a yellow shirt with his jolly roger proudly displayed. "No?" he said, and even he heard the uncertainty in his own tone.
The kid's eyes lit up. He laughed and immediately took off running toward the town. "We have a visitor! A visitor who's not a Marine!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the village streets.
Law's eyes widened as he watched the kid disappear. Within seconds, the villagers erupted into excited chatter, and he heard the familiar sounds of his crew behind him, their boots hitting the dock, equipment clattering. Before Law could warn them, his crew was being gently but firmly guided away by villagers eager to show them their shops, their restaurants, their hospitality.
The child reappeared by his side yanking at his arm, "Come on! Come on!"
Law sighed and allowed himself to be dragged.
Inside the tavern, the kid practically radiated pride as he announced their arrival to everyone present. The bartender approached with an amused laugh, clearly used to the child's enthusiasm.
"What can I get you, son?" the bartender asked, directing the question at Law with a warm smile.
Law's gaze swept across the room, healthy villagers, clean tables, the smell of food rather than sickness. He turned back to the bartender, his brow furrowing. "I think I've arrived at the wrong island. I was looking for one struck by plague."
The entire bar erupted in laughter.
"Guess that witch's performance worked," the bartender said, wiping tears of amusement from his face. He leaned against the bar, still grinning. "But I have to ask, boy, why would you come to an island you believe is ravaged by plague?"
Law didn't answer immediately. He looked at the surrounding villagers, all of them clearly thriving, no signs of illness anywhere. He turned back to the bartender, his voice steady despite his confusion. "I'm a doctor. I came to help."
The bartender's expression softened slightly, impressed by the answer. Before he could respond, Law continued, "You mentioned a performance. What kind of performance would convince the entire world government that this island is decimated?"
The bartender settled in against the counter, and the child climbed onto a stool beside him, listening intently. "About three months ago, someone appeared on our island. Seemed lost and confused at first, so we took them in, gave them food, shelter, the usual. A few weeks later, a Marine ship arrived. They claimed they'd 'discovered' us and demanded we pay a fee to join the World Government." The bartender's expression darkened slightly. "We refused. Should've known better. They decided the mountain behind our town was theirs—it's rich with gold and gems. Started forcing our people into the mines, taking everything we could produce."
The child's small hands clenched into fists at the memory.
"These villagers," the bartender continued, gesturing around the bar with obvious affection, "they're too kind for their own good. They would've let those Marines bleed them dry. But then that witch they stepped in. Put on quite a show." He chuckled, shaking his head. "They told the Marines the mines were cursed, that everyone here was infected with plague. And somehow they convinced those Marines they were contaminated."
Law felt something shift in his chest.
"The Marines ran," the bartender laughed, "and we haven't heard from them since. Not that we got many visitors in the first place, so it's been quiet."
The child suddenly jumped up with infectious energy. "Y/N is so cool!"
The bartender laughed, reaching over to ruffle the kid's hair. "They sure are." He pointed up at a sign above the bar, written in careful lettering: the name of the tavern, named after you.
Law stood, his mind already moving. "Where can I find this Y/N?"
The child grabbed at his arm eagerly. "Don't worry! Once they hear we have visitors, they'll come by to say hi. They always do."
Chaos erupted outside.
The child's grin widened impossibly. "That's them!" He jumped out the seat and took off to the door.
Law pushed through the tavern door to find his crew scattering in all directions, shouting in a mixture of alarm and indignation. Racing toward them, leaving a trail of playful laughter, was a familiar figure he hadn't seen in months.
You.
"You said they came here three months ago?" Law asked the child, who was jumping up and down beside him with barely contained excitement.
"Yup! Exactly three months today!" The child pointed to the center of the street, where a massive hole gaped in the earth shaped unmistakably like a paw print.
Law's eye twitched.
Three months. A paw print. That distinctive chaos.
"A Straw Hat," Law muttered to himself, feeling something between annoyance and resignation settle into his stomach.
You were holding something red above your head, dangling it teasingly while his crew chased after you. Bepo's allowance. Law recognized it immediately. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and activated his Room. The bag vanished from your grasp and replaced with a napkin.
"Aw, come on!" you called out, your face falling dramatically before you spun around, searching. Your eyes found him. "Why did you have to take away my fun?"
Law's crew immediately turned and rushed to their captain. Bepo ran over with tears streaming down his face, thanking Law profusely as he accepted his allowance back. Law's gaze didn't waver from you.
"This is his allowance," Law said flatly, placing the bag into Bepo's waiting paws.
You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. "I was gonna give it back. Eventually. I was just having a little fun."
"There is no illness here," Law said, turning to address his crew. "We're leaving."
His crew nodded at the order without question, already turning back toward the docks. But you were faster. You ran up to him, eyes bright with recognition.
"Hey, wait a tick. I know you!" you exclaimed. "You're that captain from Sabaody. Tra... something."
"Trafalgar Law," he stated plainly, instinctively leaning away as you leaned into his space.
"That's right! Traffy!" You laughed, and the nickname made him want to leave even faster. "Say, what are you doing here? Aren't you scared you're going to catch the plague?" You wiggled your fingers at him mockingly.
Law's patience was already thin. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your audacity. "You should be careful about what rumors and lies you tell." His voice dropped slightly colder, holding a heavy weight. He shoved passed you and began walking toward the docks without another word.
You ran after him, quickly moving to walk backwards beside him. "Hey, I saved this island! So what if I had to lie to scare people away? It's better than letting the Marines destroy the place. Now no one will bother these good people."
Law's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides. "A plague is serious," he said quietly, each word controlled. "If the Marines decide to take action—" The thought broke off as his mind flashed unbidden to Flevance. To fire. To screams. To the smell of burning flesh and stone. His breathing became shallow.
You seemed to sense something had shifted. Your playful tone softened slightly. "This island is already so far removed the Marines didn't even know about it until a few weeks ago. They have no trades with the outside islands, and the Marines have no reason to return now. I actually helped this island."
Law exhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts back to the present. You were right, pragmatically speaking. It didn't matter. It still felt wrong. "Whatever," he said curtly. "Enjoy your island. You have two years before your captain expects you back."
You jumped in front of him, blocking his path. "Hey, wait a minute. You just got here, at least stay for a day."
"We only came to this island to lend our medical expertise," Law replied, his tone held no argument. "Since there's no illness, we have no reason to stay."
"You could stay for dinner! We could have a feast!" Your voice rose with hope, and he could hear the villagers behind you cheering in agreement. But Law just shook his head and moved to push past you.
You grabbed his arm gently, and something in your voice changed. The playfulness vanished, replaced by something genuine. "Law, wait. Please stay so I can properly thank you for saving my captain."
He stopped.
Law turned to face you slowly, visibly shocked that you were aware of his involvement with Luffy. Your expression had shifted too, the impulsiveness had melted into something more serious, more grounded.
"I saw his scar in the photos," you explained, and your eyes held understanding. "You're the only one nearby who has the skills to keep someone alive after an injury like that. So thank you."
Law stared at you for a long moment. He looked away, toward the village, toward the eager faces of people who had so little and wanted so badly to share what little they had.
He sighed. "Fine," he conceded. "We can stay for dinner."
The villagers erupted in cheers, immediately scattering to prepare. His crew's faces lit up at the prospect of a feast, and they eagerly joined the townspeople in preparation.
You beamed at him, and before he could react, you grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the center of town. "Thank you, Law! This village really needs a reason to celebrate. This will be fun!"
Despite himself, Law let you pull him along.
By the time night fell, tables had been set up in the village square, laden with food and drink. The Heart Pirates mingled easily with the villagers, swapping stories and advice, loading their plates high with island delicacies.
Law sat at the far end of the table, removed from the immediate chaos but quietly observing. You moved between conversations with ease, listening intently to his crew's stories with genuine interest. You gasped at the right moments, laughed at the appropriate jokes, and offered stories of your own that made grown pirates' jaws drop.
As the night deepened and the food disappeared, drinks began flowing more freely. The atmosphere grew looser, more celebratory. His crew stood on the tables, reenacting their greatest battles with exaggerated movements and forks wielded like swords. The village children watched in awe.
A small smile threatened to break across Law's face. He suppressed it, maintaining his usual composed exterior—though only barely.
"I told you it would be fun," you laughed, catching his smile before it could fully disappear.
Law turned to see you holding two jugs, one extended toward him. He tried to hide his expression as he accepted it, but the corner of his lip turned upward despite himself.
You sat down on the bench beside him, close enough that your shoulders nearly touched. "Your crew seems to be having a really good time," you observed, watching his crew with obvious affection.
Law nodded, taking a slow sip from the jug. The drink was warm and sweet, with an underlying burn that settled pleasantly in his chest.
"This town doesn't get many visitors," you continued quietly, your earlier energy mellowed by alcohol and evening. "Even less so now. When I first arrived, they welcomed me in way too easily, even though I tried my best to steal from them and cause trouble." You smiled at the memory, "But when the Marines came, everything changed. At first, the villagers welcomed them too—tried to be respectful, tried to cooperate. Then the Marines discovered the mountain." You pointed behind you to the peak that loomed over the town, silhouetted against the stars. "It's full of gold and gems. Beautiful things, just sitting there. The Marines decided that meant they owned the island. Owned the people. They started forcing everyone into the mines, making them work until their hands bled."
Your expression hardened, and Law saw the protective instinct that ran through you, the same one that had driven you to action.
"The village is too kind," you continued. "They would have let themselves be worked to death rather than resist. So I did what I could. I told the Marines the mine was cursed, that everyone here had been infected with plague from the poisoned gold." You took another sip of your drink. "I put on a show with berries, smoke and lies, and somehow, somehow, they believed me. They ran, and they haven't come back."
Law watched your features carefully as you spoke. Even with the alcohol softening your edges, he could see the weight and frustration of what you'd done. The choice you'd made. He understood that kind of choice.
You turned away from him your nose flaring. Then you spoke again, your voice lower. "I know about Flevance. What the World Government did."
The words hung in the air between you. Law felt something constrict in his chest, and he quickly looked away, staring out at the celebrating crews instead.
"Then why would you make up that kind of lie?" he asked quietly, his tone rough with controlled emotion.
You lowered your head, turning your jug over in your hands. "Because they're isolated enough that the World Government doesn't care about them. And I needed to prevent the Marines from returning." You paused, swallowing hard. "I can't fight the way Luffy can. I can't overpower them. So I used what I have—lies and trickery. It's all I've ever had.”
Law nodded slowly, understanding settling into him like winter cold. He looked over at the overly friendly village, at the children laughing with his crew, at the elderly people who had so little and had nearly lost everything.
"You made the right choice," he said finally.
When you spoke again, your voice was soft. "I'm sorry if the thought of a plague reminded you of your time in Flevance."
Law's jaw twitched involuntarily as his gaze snapped to you. "How do you know I'm from Flevance?" His voice had gone quiet, dangerous.
"You have the scars from amber poisoning," you said, reaching up toward your own ear. his hand threw to his own covering the slight discoloration barely visible behind where his hat sat.
Law immediately pulled his hat down lower, covering the telltale marks completely. "How do you know what amber poisoning scars look like?" he demanded, his voice sharp.
You leaned back slightly, and in one fluid motion, pulled the back of your shirt up, revealing a large patch of white scarring across your back. The marks were unmistakable—the aftermath of the particular poisoning.
Law stood abruptly, leaning closer to examine the scars. His mind was already racing through medical possibilities. “How did you… But a proper cure was never found.” he started stammering. He finally took a breath, "How did you get the lead out of your bloodstream?"
You pulled your shirt back down and leaned away, taking a heavy swig of your drink before answering. "Very old and improper methods," you said quietly. You twisted your arm, showing him a long scar running up the inside of your wrist to your elbow—old, faded, but unmistakable. It was a scar from where they drained your blood until your body naturally removed the lead. "I was only seven. My family managed to escape Flevance the day before the extermination. But the treatment..." You trailed off, and Law understood the implication. "My family didn't survive it."
Law swallowed hard. Seven. The same age as his sister. She could have known you. Passed you in the streets. Sat next to you in class.
"With no home to return to or family left, I did what I needed to survive," you continued, your voice steady despite the weight of the words. "I've been stealing and performing ever since—going island to island, putting on a show, taking what I needed, and leaving. It was survival." You looked up at him, and something in your expression softened. "Then Luffy showed up. The town told him I was a witch to warn him away, but he thought that meant I ate children, so he was even more interested in meeting me." you laughed at the memory.
Despite everything, Law found himself smiling slightly at that.
"I owe him everything," you said softly. "He gave me a reason to stop running. Gave me a reason to dream again."
You leaned over and laid your head on his shoulder, and Law felt the weight of you—literal and metaphorical. He stiffened, clearly uncomfortable with the contact.
“Thank you for saving him.” You whispered.
Slowly, he reached over and gently pushed your face away from his shoulder. "No problem," he said, his tone betraying his awkwardness as he wiped his hand on his pants and shifted slightly away.
You rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle, accepting his boundary without comment.
After a moment of comfortable silence, you sighed and looked back out at his crew. "Do you know where he is?" you asked quietly. "Luffy, I mean."
Law's eyes glanced toward you, and there was a spark of curiosity—and something else, something that might have been annoyance. "Is this why you wanted this party?" he asked, his voice taking on an accusatory edge. "To convince me to tell you where your captain is so you can interrupt his training?"
You shook your head, and when you looked at him, there was no deception in your expression. "Of course not. This town needed a reason to party. A real one, not one built on lies." You paused. "I know he needs his training especially after losing Ace.” You frowned at the memory of the fiery boy.
“I need to train harder. I want to be stronger for him. For all of them." You spoke with a sharp determination.
Law took another sip of his drink, processing your words.
"But two years is a long time to wait," you continued, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "I know Luffy is expecting us to train separately, but how can I improve on an island where people just hand me things? I need a real challenge. I need—" You stopped mid-sentence, and Law watched as your eyes slowly widened. An idea had clearly struck you, and it was the kind of idea that usually meant trouble for him.
You turned to face him fully, your expression shifting into something determined and hopeful. "I have an idea. Why don't I join your crew?"
Law choked on his drink.
He coughed, sputtering, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before fixing you with a hard glare that did absolutely nothing to diminish your puppy dog eyes. "Absolutely not," he said flatly.
Your eyes grew impossibly larger, and your lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. "Why not? You won't even know I'm there. I'll be training and observing, staying in the background. I promise.”
Law's throat tightened as he stared into your wide eyes that barely held back you excitement and pleads. Your eyes held flakes of amber—the same shade that most people from Flevance had carried. The same flakes his late sister Lami had possessed. The resemblance was striking, and it was making it infinitely harder for him to say no. And his less sober state was not helping his resolve.
He looked down at his sake, watching his reflection swirl in the liquid. He could feel you waiting for his response, sense your hope. It would be so easy to say no. It would be the logical choice. It would be the smart choice.
"Only for two years, right?" he finally heard himself say, the words seemingly coming from somewhere outside his own control.
Your entire face lit up with joy. "Technically only twenty-one months!"
Law's frown deepened, and his nose scrunched in thought—though whether it was from his irritation by the correction or simply processing the reality of what he'd just agreed to, you couldn't quite tell. "You'll pick up chores around the ship. You'll obey my orders. And you'll refer to me as Captain or Law. Not Traffy."
You jumped up so suddenly you nearly knocked over your jug. "Of course! I'll be the best crewmate you've ever had!"
This declaration apparently reached the ears of a certain polar bear, who suddenly appeared beside Law with an expression of mild concern.
"I thought I was the best crewmate?" Bepo asked, his voice carrying a note of worry.
Law huffed out a drunken laugh and leaned onto the bear's soft body. He closed his eyes, growing comfortable against the warmth. "Yes, Bepo. You will remain the best crewmate," he assured him. Then he added more plainly, "Y/N is trying to convince me to let them join our crew.”
Bepo leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, his expression shifting to something neutral and serious. "You were the one who stole my wallet," he stated.
"It was more like a purse," you said jokingly, "but yes... I was going to return it."
"You're one of the Straw Hats," Bepo continued, his analytical tone never wavering.
"Yes," you admitted with slight pride.
“Why do you want to join our crew?”
“To get off this island and to train. It will only be for twenty one months then I’ll be out of your hair… fur?”
Bepo's eyes narrowed further, and for a moment, the tension hung in the air. Then his entire face transformed, brightening into pure, innocent joy. "I'm first mate, and you're new, which means you're underneath me."
You nodded quickly. "Understood." You threw your hand up to a joking salute.
"Welcome to the Heart Pirates!" Bepo shouted, suddenly lifting you into a massive bear hug.
Law, who had been using the bear as a pillow, suddenly found his support disappearing. He fell backward, knocking over his jug in the process. The remaining sake spilled across his chest, soaking into his coat.
“I didn’t say yes.” Law complained but it was already to late.
The other pirates, hearing the commotion and Bepo's announcement, came running over in excitement. They swarmed around you, pulling you into a group hug, cheering and laughing. Law sat up with a frown, wiping the sake from his face, but the expression quickly softened as he watched his crew celebrate their newest member with genuine joy.
Despite the alcohol soaking his clothes, he allowed himself a real smile.
The next morning, the entire town came to see you off. As you made your way up the submarine's ramp, villagers thrust gifts into your arms—bags of gems and bottles of local alcohol, handmade blankets and scarves, jewelry crafted with care. You stumbled forward, weighted down by their generosity, huffing and puffing as you dragged the enormous bag toward the deck.
Law stood at the top of the ramp, arms crossed, watching your struggle with an arched eyebrow. "Isn't that a lot of stuff?" he asked.
You yanked the bag onto the deck with a final heave, breathing hard. You looked up at him, pushing the blankets out of your face. "It's all gifts from the townspeople. They wouldn't let me refuse. Don’t worry I’ll share some of it as a thanks for getting me out of here." You pulled the blankets off and tossed them toward the bag, then began removing jewelry and adding it to the pile. "Besides, most of this is gems and gold—things they don't use. And if Nami heard I said no to that, she'd kill me on the spot." You laughed, though there was genuine fear beneath the humor.
Law turned back toward the town, observing the villagers still waving from the docks. "These townspeople seem to really like you," he observed.
You smiled, continuing to wave back at them. "Which is exactly why I need to leave," you said out of the corner of your mouth. "If I stayed much longer, they'd try to adopt me officially."
Law shook his head with a snicker, turning to signal Bepo in the control room below. The first mate nodded and disappeared to start the engines.
"I wish there was something we could give them," Law said, watching the growing stack of crates full with food that the townspeople had already loaded onto the deck. "For all of this."
You continued waving, even as the submarine's engines began to purr to life. "Keeping the World Government off this island should be enough. That's worth more than any treasure."
The engines hummed louder, and the ramp began retracting into the submarine's hull. You leaned against the railing, still waving. "Remember! If anyone bothers you, tell them this island is protected by the Straw Hat Pirates!" you shouted, Law gave a cough behind you, "And the Heart Pirates!" you added with a smile.
The Heart Pirates crew cheered in unison at your addition, waving their goodbyes as the submarine began to move forward. The townspeople waved back, their cheers fading as the distance grew.
You turned back to face Law, and despite the exhaustion written across your features, your expression was radiant. Law simply rolled his eyes and nodded his head for you to follow him inside.
You grabbed your bag to drag it, but Law raised his hand slightly. Your bag vanished and reappeared in what you assumed was the storage area below. You smiled, free of the weight, and followed your new captain into the submarine's corridors.
As Law led the way, he sighed—not from annoyance, but from something deeper. Something like resignation mixed with anticipation. The next twenty-one months were going to be complicated.
19 Months Left
It had been a few months since you joined the crew, and you'd integrated smoothly into the Heart Pirates' rhythm. In the mornings, you helped with cooking and were eager to learn about medical practices, frequently mentioning how happy Chopper would be to have a knowledgeable assistant when you reunited. At the end of each week, you put on a magic show in the ship's cafeteria to practice your illusions and sleight of hand.
These shows had quickly become the highlight of everyone's week.
Your crew members would gather in the cafeteria with barely contained excitement, watching as you produced impossible things from thin air, made objects vanish and reappear, transformed simple props into wonders. Each week brought new tricks, each performance more impressive than the last. The crew loved it—loved you.
Law watched from the doorway each time, his expression carefully neutral, his focus entirely on you. He never applauded or cheered. He simply... observed.
One afternoon, Law found you on the deck swinging a sword around with determined focus. He paused for a moment, simply watching as you threw the blade forward with all the force you could muster, then executed a quick step backward, your imaginary opponent pressing you from an invisible angle.
"Since when did you fight with a sword?" Law asked, breaking the silence.
You stopped mid-swing, lowering the sword. Your expression grew distant for a moment. "Zoro tried to teach me a few things a while back," you said slowly. "He wanted to convince me to start using a weapon. I wasn't serious about it at the time. If I had been..." You trailed off, and Law could see your mind traveling backward to Sabaody, to watching your crewmates disappear one by one. "I have to be stronger for them," you declared, lifting the sword again and preparing for another swing.
Law found himself smiling, just barely, just enough for it to be real. He walked toward you slowly, and without a word, positioned himself behind you. Gently, he wrapped his arms around you, supporting your stance with his body. You froze at the contact. His hands were cold as they held your elbows, but his torso which was pressed against your back radiated warmth.
"Your form is as if you're swinging with multiple swords," he said quietly, his voice near your ear, "but you're only fighting with one. A single blade has advantages, if you use it correctly."
He re positioned your arms into a better angle, then reached down to your hips and twisted them slightly. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as his chest remained against your back, as his focus remained entirely on your form. It was hard to concentrate on sword technique when every nerve in your body was acutely aware of his proximity.
Law stepped back, seemingly unaware of the effect he'd had on you. "Your doing well," he said.
"I barely started," you replied, pinching your eyebrows together.
"Not just with the sword," Law continued, his tone shifting into something more genuine. "You've really grown since arriving. The crew loves your magic shows, and I'm still trying to figure out how you managed some of those tricks. You've improved tremendously in medical knowledge—I hate to admit it, but you're better with some procedures than several of my crew members now. And it's only been a few months." His praise was specific, earned, rooted in actual observation.
Your smile grew, buoyed by the genuine compliment from someone you'd learned didn't give them lightly. You turned to face him. "Wow, Law. That was actually really nice," you teased.
Law's face flushed slightly and he quickly turned toward the door. "Use your full body to swing. Do full swings, not half ones," he said as he hurried away, his tone abrupt and gruff in stark contrast to the vulnerability he'd just shown.
You snickered, turning back to your practice with renewed energy. You took his suggestion to heart, swinging wider and twisting your hips with more intention. And although he was gone, you could feel the ghost of his presence—his hands on your arms, his voice in your ear, his quiet belief in your potential.
15 Months
The entire submarine seemed to pulse with unusual tension. Everyone moved with hushed voices, their movements careful and deliberate. The normalcy of routine had been replaced with something heavier.
You made your way through the corridors, noticing the odd behavior but unable to pinpoint its cause. Eventually, you found Bepo in one of the common areas, his usual cheerfulness replaced with anxiety. His hands wrung together nervously.
"Bepo?" you called out. "What's wrong?"
Bepo flinched at the sound of your voice, then relaxed slightly. "Oh, it's just you," he sighed in relief.
"Why are you so jumpy? And why is everyone acting so weird?" you asked, furrowing your brow.
Bepo sighed heavily. "Captain is really tense today. He shouted at everyone in the control room this morning." The worry in his voice was palpable.
"Where is he now?" you asked.
Bepo simply pointed down the hallway toward Law's office.
You made your way toward the captain's quarters, your footsteps quiet on the metal floor. As you approached, a calendar hanging outside his office caught your eye.
You stopped.
Your eyes fixed on the date, and the breath caught in your throat. You'd been aboard so long that you hadn't been tracking the time properly. But there it was: the date that always circled back to haunt you.
"The date always sneaks up on me too," Law's voice came from behind you, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.
You spun around to face him. He stood in the corridor, still in his coat, and even from a distance, you could see the weariness etched into his features. His eyes were puffy from crying, though he'd clearly tried to hide it.
"It's been fifteen years," you said quietly, your ever-present smile finally slipping away to reveal the grief beneath. "You'd think it would get easier."
Law shook his head slowly. "It never does." He gestured toward his office door, and you followed him inside.
The scent of old paper and ink filled your senses as you entered his space. Books lined the walls, and various documents were scattered across his desk, maps, notes, research. You closed the door behind you softly.
"What brings you to my quarters anyway?" Law asked, slumping into his chair with visible exhaustion.
You jumped onto a clear area on the edge of his desk, positioning yourself to face him. "I came to see why everyone seemed nervous about you today, but I think I've answered that for myself," you admitted.
"I suppose I was in a reactive mood this morning," Law said, rubbing his hand over his face in a gesture of defeat.
"Do they know?" you asked, looking at him with understanding. "Your crew, I mean."
"Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin know the premise," Law replied. "They're my adoptive brothers, after all. But I think they forgot about the date. Not that I can blame them. I often forget about it myself..." He trailed off.
"And then the date comes and all the memories come flooding back," you finished, giving him a small, sad smile.
He nodded, and silence fell between you—the kind of silence that only two people carrying the same weight could share.
You began wringing your fingers together, a nervous habit. "I never told anyone," you admitted softly. "About Flevance, I mean. About being a survivor. I was always afraid that if the government found out they'd missed one, they'd stop at nothing to finish the job."
Law swallowed hard, understanding that fear intimately. The paranoia of survival when your government wanted you dead.
You turned to him, meeting his eyes. "How did you survive?"
Law sat up straighter, connecting his gaze with yours. "I hid among the dead bodies of my classmates." His eyes darted away, unable to hold the weight of your stare as tears began to fill his eyes. "My parents and sister were in the hospital when it burned." He sniffed, his voice cracking slightly. "I couldn't get to them."
"You had a sister?" you asked gently.
Law simply nodded, unable to trust his voice further.
"What was she like?" you pressed, your voice soft as you gave him space to open up.
Law took a shaky breath. "She was seven. Trafalgar D. Water Lami."
You perked up slightly. "D. Water?"
"That's my full name," he admitted, the words seeming to cost him something. "The D clan is considered the enemy of the World Government, so I chose to keep it hidden. To protect myself. To protect anyone who got close to me."
You studied his vulnerable features carefully—the tension in his jaw, the moisture in his eyes, the way his shoulders curved inward protectively.
"I think I do recall Lami," you said thoughtfully. "She had those brown pigtails, right? Always wore that yellowish dress?”
Law's head snapped up, and his eyes suddenly showed a spark of something—hope, maybe. Or the ache of memory. "Yes," he breathed.
"She was kinda annoying," you added, and you watched as Law's jaw clenched.
You bit your lip, uncertain if your joke had landed right, and held your breath.
Then Law snorted—a genuine laugh that seemed to break through the dam of his grief. "She really was!" he said, a watery smile crossing his face. "She was always following me around, always trying to do whatever I was doing."
The laughter morphed into tears. You leaned over, rubbing his back gently as he wiped his eyes. "She looked up to you," you assured him, feeling the tremor in his shoulders.
"Now that you mention it, I think I recognize your father too," you continued, changing the subject slightly to give him a moment to compose himself. "I think he was the doctor who treated my brother."
"What is your family name?" Law asked, lifting his head to look at you.
You slouched, suddenly feeling very small. Your family had been nobles—wealthy, well-connected, aware of things they chose not to act on. You fidgeted with your fingers, avoiding his gaze, unable to face what you might see in his expression when he learned the truth.
Law reached over and placed his hand on your leg, rubbing it gently. The warmth of the gesture gave you courage. You took a tight breath and spoke your family name.
Law's eyes widened in recognition, and you still refused to look at him, shame burning through you.
Law sat back, clearly processing the information—the weight of it, the implications, the history it meant you two shared.
"I remember your brother," he said finally. "Gale, right?"
You smiled despite yourself, thinking of him. You gave a small nod.
"He was my dad's first patient for amber lead poisoning," Law recalled, a note of sadness in his voice. "You had four other brothers, didn't you?"
You smirked slightly, the familiar pride in your siblings overriding your embarrassment. "Yeah. Graham, Garrett, Griffin, and Gideon. I was the youngest. Gale was the closest to my age at thirteen."
Law smiled at that—a real smile. "I think I visited your place once with my father. That giant house on the top of the hill. I remember it was a mess."
You tried to hide a laugh, thinking back to your childhood home filled with five teenage boys and all their chaos. "Having five teenage brothers did have its own aesthetic," you said with fondness.
"It explains how you put up with this crew," Law laughed, some of the heaviness lifting from the moment. You joined laughing as well comparing the crew of 18 men to your crew of 5 teenage boys.
Silence fell again, but this time it was softer. Shared.
"I miss them," you said quietly, a bubble of sadness catching in your throat.
Law took in a shaky breath. "I know."
You rubbed your tears away. "We should go do something," you said suddenly.
Law looked confused. "Like what?"
You jumped off the desk, reaching down and grabbing his hands, pulling him out of his chair. "Let's go out and celebrate their lives. Do something special for the fifteenth year."
Law smiled, wiping his own eyes clean. "Okay. Where to?"
"Let's hit the town!" you said, and despite everything, despite the grief and the weight of lost years, Law found himself being pulled toward the door.
You and Law returned late into the night, completely drunk and stumbling into each other with helpless laughter. From the deck of the Polar Tang, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin watched in amusement.
"How did they convince him to let loose like that?" Penguin commented, nudging his brother with his shoulder.
Shachi laughed, blowing a cloud of smoke into the night air. "Who knows? But I'm glad they did. He was being an extreme bummer today."
"Why was that anyway?" Bepo asked.
The other two exchanged a knowing look. "Ohh shit..." they realized simultaneously.
They turned back to watch their captain nearly slip off the dock as you barely managed to catch his arm, both of you dissolving into giggles. Your skin tone matched his so closely. Your mannerisms echoed his in ways that couldn't be coincidence. The cultural resemblance, now that they were looking for it, seemed obvious.
"Is Y/N from Flevance?" Shachi asked in genuine curiosity.
The three crew members watched in silence, already forming their own theories, watching the way Law's hand steadied you even while he was laughing, watching the way your attention never strayed from him.
Something had shifted. Something important.
9 Months
When the rest of the crew woke, the scent of fresh pancakes filled the submarine's corridors. Within minutes, nearly everyone had made a beeline for the kitchen.
You stood above the stove, humming softly as you flipped what looked like pancakes high into the air, catching them with practiced ease. The counters around you were piled high with golden, fluffy stacks. You turned toward the first crew members to arrive, Penguin, with a bright smile.
"Good morning!" you chirped. "Help yourselves! I made these for all of you!"
The crew wasted no time. They lined up eagerly, filling their plates with the pancake like food and finding seats throughout the galley. Within moments, happy chewing and murmurs of satisfaction filled the space.
You smiled and continued to make more, your humming carrying through the kitchen in a contented melody.
Law was the last to arrive, his eyebrows raising at the sight of his crew's cheerful consumption of breakfast. He made his way toward you, leaning against the counter. "What did you put in those pancakes?" he asked, watching you work with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
You smirked, glancing toward the happily eating crew before turning back to him. "Well for starters, their not pancakes. Their Hootenanny." you said with a wink as you plated some, topping it with berries and slid it toward him.
Law's mouth opened to respond, but you spoke first.
"That batch is made with gluten-free flour," you added. "For you."
Law's eyes widened as he looked down at the plate, and then at you. He closed his mouth, a genuine smile breaking across his face. He pulled the plate closer, cutting a small piece and raising it to his mouth. His eyes widened in shock at the complex flavor—sweet, fruity, with an underlying earthiness that felt like home. A breakfast treat his home was known for.
"Wow," he murmured before quickly eating the rest, unable to slow down. "How?”
You chuckled, clearly pleased by his reaction. "Sanji helped me recreate the recipe from memory. It's probably a little off since he added some of his own flare, but I think it still captures the authentic Flevance flavor."
Law nodded, finishing the last bite. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, turning around to look at his crew, who were contentedly eating their breakfast.
You filled another plate with a stack of cakes and slid in beside him. "It's been a year since I joined your crew, so I wanted to show my thanks. The last island had the supplies I needed, and it just worked out."
Law blinked, processing. "Has it really been a year already?" He looked at you with surprise. "Time really does fly."
You nodded, sliding your own plate in front of you. But you didn't look at him as your eyes drifted away, looking out into the kitchen's middle distance.
Law's brows pinched together. "So in nine months?" he asked carefully, his tone betraying the careful way he was handling the question.
"I'll be finally out of your hair," you said quietly.
Law was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, there was an edge to his voice. "You say that like you're a burden."
You chuckled, finally looking up at him. "Didn't you act like I was when I first joined?"
"When you first joined, I thought you would be a tornado of chaos," Law said, a small smirk crossing his face. "After all, you did steal Bepo's wallet."
"I was going to return it," you protested, pouting slightly.
"Anyway," Law continued, turning to lean his back against the counter, "my point is that for your first week, yes, I was counting down the days until you left. But you quickly changed my mind." He paused, his gaze drifting to his crew before returning to you. "Now I don't know how this crew will function without you."
You shoved your shoulder into his gently, a teasing glint in your eye. "Is that your way of saying you'll miss me?"
Law chuckled, turning to look at you more directly. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Is that hard to believe?"
You shook your head, laughing. "I'll miss this too," you said, your expression softening as you looked toward his crew. "I miss my original crew, but these guys..." Your smile grew wider. "They've become a new family to me."
Law watched you carefully, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to memorize it. "Then why not stay?" he asked softly.
Your expression flickered with conflict. You took a deep breath and looked away, shaking your head slowly. "Law, I owe you so much and I'm grateful beyond words that you let me join your crew," you said carefully. "But—"
"But?" Law prompted, his tone carrying an edge of apprehension.
"But I owe Luffy everything," you said, turning to lean your back against the counter beside him. "The reason I'm here, the reason I'm training—it's all for him. I need to be stronger for my captain."
Law lowered his head, "He is a lucky captain," he murmured so quietly you almost didn't catch it.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at your lips. "Law, are you jealous?" you teased. "Do you like me?"
Law's eyes widened in panic. "What! No!" he said quickly, his voice rising slightly. He pushed himself off the counter, creating distance between you. "I was saying he's lucky to have you on his crew." He began taking steps toward the door, clearly flustered. "Because you're good at cooking Hootenannys."
You snorted with laughter as he hurried toward the exit.
"Law, you're being weird!" you called after him, grinning at his obvious embarrassment.
He didn't turn back, but you could see his shoulders tense slightly before he disappeared around the corner.
2 Months
Months had passed, and Law found himself staring at his calendar with a heaviness he couldn't quite suppress. The days were being crossed off, and you only had two months remaining. You had started telling the crew more stories about the Straw Hats, speaking with increasing excitement about rejoining them and showing off everything you'd learned.
Each time Law overheard these conversations, his frown deepened.
He knew it was inevitable. He'd known from the beginning that this was temporary. And yet... somewhere along the way, temporary had started to feel permanent. You'd become woven into the fabric of his crew, someone he relied on, someone who understood him in ways few others could, someone whose presence had become essential.
Law sighed deeply and walked out of his quarters onto the deck. You were there, sparring with Shachi while the rest of the crew stood in a loose circle, placing bets on who would win. Behind them, a scoreboard tracked wins and losses, you and Shachi were tied for first place.
Shachi threw his leg in a sweeping motion beneath you. You jumped cleanly over the strike and spun to kick at the back of his head, but he anticipated the move. He leaned to the side, grabbed your flying leg, and yanked you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp as you hit the mat with controlled impact.
Shachi took his advantage and jumped on top of you, pinning you down as Bepo began counting.
"And Shachi takes the win!" Bepo announced, and the gathered crew cheered or groaned depending on their bets.
You and Shachi both jumped up, laughing and shaking hands. "How did you know I would kick back?" you asked.
"Because you always do," Shachi laughed, and the two of you walked off the mat together, already planning the next match.
"Y/N!" Law called out, drawing your attention.
You turned with a smile and ran over to him. "What's up Traffy! Did you see that fight? I almost had him! I think I can beat him next time. I should of gone for a lower kick followed by a punch." You mimed the movement and corner of law's lips twitched upwards.
Law let the nickname slide without comment, "Yeah, it was good," he said. "Anyway, I need your help with something." He turned back toward the submarine's interior, waiting for you to follow.
You waved goodbye to the crew and followed Law down into the corridors, eventually reaching his quarters. Inside, you found newspaper clippings pinned to the walls and scattered papers everywhere, plans, sketches, notes, all crossed out and reworked multiple times.
Your eyebrows pinched together at the sight. "What's all this?"
Law sighed, sitting on top of his desk and running his hand through his hair, pushing his hat back slightly. "I'm leaving in a month," he admitted.
You spun around, shock registering across your face. "What are you talking about?"
He took a deep breath, “You know how I told you about the man who took me in after Flevance?”
You crossed your arms, “Corazon?”
He nodded, “and how he was killed by his brother.”
You nodded awaiting his answers.
He gestured to a photo of the tall lanky warlord, “What I didn't tell you was his brother was doflamingo.”
You stilled looking at the wanted poster of the man, his extremely high bounty. Law was a warlord himself now but even so his bounty never came close to Doflamingo.
“and you want to kill him.” You said flatly hiding your emotions.
He groaned, yanking at his own hair in frustration. "I don't want to just to kill Doflamingo, but to destroy him and everything he's built. In order to do that, I need to gather intelligence on him and his operations. And I haven't told anyone—I don't plan on telling anyone either."
You furrowed your brow, moving toward the scattered papers. "Then why are you telling me?" you asked, picking up a loose page that showed a layout of a building labeled "Punk Hazard."
"Because I ran into an issue while planning, and you're the only one who can help me work it out," he explained. He paused, then added quieter, "And because you deserve to know."
You nodded, looking over the scattered plans. As you read through the discarded ideas, your stomach sank. These plans were suicidal. "Why don't you want to tell your crew?" you asked, your voice tight.
"Because I won't risk their lives for my vengeance," he said simply. "And if I tell them, they'll either try to join me or try to stop me. Neither option is acceptable."
You turned on him, fury flashing across your face. "So you thought you'd tell me because you think I won't try to stop you?" you snapped.
His eyes widened slightly at your tone, “think?” He repeated, flinching back slightly from the rage in your eyes.
The anger boiled inside you as you began throwing the papers at the man. Law immediately raised his arms to block the incoming barrage.
“Did you think that I wouldn't care because I'm leaving in two months anyways? That once I go back to the Straw Hats, none of this would matter?" You grabbed more papers from the desk and threw them at his face. “That I would be ok with you running off trying to get yourself killed!”
"Wait! That's not it!" he pleaded, covering his face with his forearms as paper rained down on him.
"Then what is it?" you demanded, still throwing papers. "Because that's exactly what this looks like!"
Law snatched at your arms stopping your attacks. "I showed you this so you could help me rework it," he said firmly. "And to ask you for a favor. A real favor."
You leveled a look at him, breathing heavily, waiting for him to continue.
"I want to ask your captain to form an alliance." Law said carefully.
You paused, your anger draining away as quickly as it had arrived. "Okay," you said slowly. Your arms falling out of his grip and to your sides.
"Okay?" Law asked, clearly expecting more resistance. "Just okay? No questions, no more throwing things? You're on board?"
You nodded, and without waiting for further explanation, you moved past him and shoved him off his desk. You pulled a pen and paper out of the drawer and began smoothing out and organizing the crumpled pages you'd thrown.
"With Luffy always," you said as you worked. "I'm on board with whatever you need."
Law watched you, something shifting in his expression. "You trust him that much?"
"Oh goodness, no," you said honestly, still gathering papers. "That boy has no concept of a plan and it will surely piss you off when he enviably ditches it, but I know that Luffy will keep you alive." You paused and turned to face him directly. "Law, you're planning on surviving this, right? Because your life is not worth your vengeance. But if that's what you need, we'll do it."
Law closed his mouth and looked away from you, but not before you caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. After a long moment, he nodded and looked back at you. "Do you think Strawhat-ya would even agree to an alliance?"
You laughed—a short, genuine laugh. "All you have to say is you want to fight someone and he'll be on board immediately." You smiled before returning to organizing his rough plans and piece it together to fit your captain and crew into them.
Law looked at you while you worked, your brow furrowed in concentration. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly.
You looked up to see him watching you with an expression of genuine gratitude and something deeper you couldn't quite name. You gave him a slight smirk. "Thank me when we make it back alive and you get to reunite with your crew properly."
Law chuckled with a nod, turning back to the desk. The two of you worked late into the night, planning and strategizing, your thoughts weaving together until the line between his vengeance and your alliance became inseparable.
1 month
It was time for goodbyes or at least, goodbyes of a sort.
Law was leaving the crew at a strange island, split between a freezing tundra on one side and boiling lava fields on the other.
Law held a small bag slung over his shoulder while his crew pulled him into a massive group hug. He was scowling at the contact, his body rigid with discomfort, but you could tell by his eyes, the way they softened slightly, the way the tension in his shoulders eased just a fraction, that he was enjoying it more than he'd ever admit.
After a long moment, Law finally pushed them away, his expression immediately returning to its usual stoic state. He turned to you as you waited by the ramp, your arms crossed over your chest.
"I'll see you in a month," he said, and there was a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
You nodded. "You better not do anything stupid until then."
"You're the one who needs to stay out of trouble," he chuckled, and there was affection beneath the teasing.
You snorted. "You know full well I can't promise that. Trouble is practically my middle name."
He shook his head with a knowing smile, the kind that said he'd expected nothing less from you. But then his expression grew quieter, more serious. "Just make sure to stay alive," he said softly. "I quite like not being the sole survivor of Flevance."
The words hung in the air between you, and time seemed to pause.
Twenty-one months ago, the mere mention of that island would have made you flinch. Would have sent you spiraling back into memories of fire and screaming and loss. But now, hearing Law say it—hearing him acknowledge that you were both survivors, that you were no longer alone in that burden it made something shifted inside your chest.
You blinked, taking a moment to compose yourself. When you finally spoke, your voice was steady. "I do too."
Law's eyes slightly widened, and you watched as something flickered across his face.
"Are you absolutely sure you won't stay?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. "Once this is all over?"
You lifted a finger to your chin, tapping it thoughtfully. "How about this," you said slowly. "I'll consider it if you come out of this alive."
Law's smile grew, wider and more genuine than you'd seen it in weeks. "I'll take that deal."
He extended his hand toward you, a formal gesture that somehow felt more intimate than anything else that had happened between you. You took it without hesitation, and his grip was warm and solid and full of promise.
"Don't die, Traffy" you said with a smirk as his nose slightly scrunched at the nickname.
"Don't die, Y/N," he replied, squeezing your hand once before letting go.
He turned and walked down the ramp without looking back. As the submarine began to pull away from the dock, you stayed at the railing, watching him disappear into the depths of his plan, into his vendetta, into the unknown.
One month.
One month until you saw him again. One month until you see your captain again. One month to prepare yourself for war. One month to survive.
You could do that. You'd survived worse.
A/N: Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message!
Also let me know if you want to see a part 2. It's been a while since I wrote a one piece short and I'm quite pleased with this one.
