@akagamiko continued from here:
The inside of the lighthouse's attached cottage was cozy, designed to keep out the damp and cold that clung to the island. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace to ward away the shadows and chill that attempted to bother its inhabitants. Tomasu had only really been there for a short time, but even a shack would feel like home so long as his wife was there. Arashi was in the kitchen, heating up some milk and chowder and anything else she could think of to help warm up their unexpected visitor while Tomasu wrapped a thick wool blanket around the young man's shoulders.
Part of him had been surprised to see Shanks show up at his doorstep. Sure, Tomasu had told the young man and a few trusted others where he'd be after faking his death, but he had never really expected any of them to come visit. His Ghostlight days were over, so why would any of these pirates still sailing the seas seek out a man who'd given it all up for a quiet retirement on a backwater island in the North Blue?
Yet the cabin boy - no, Shanks wasn't a cabin boy anymore, was he? He was growing into a young man, and perhaps an embittered one at that, given his losses. The Roger Pirates had disbanded, and from the looks of him, the teen had been through the wringer. But he was indeed still a pirate at heart. That much had been clear from the day they'd met.
Shaking his head in sympathy, Tomasu lit his pipe as he considered his words. He would have thought Shanks would be happy to hear that the Ghostlight and Pirate King actually agreed on something for once, especially his own potential, but clearly, something beyond his captain's execution was weighing on him, crushing him with doubt. Luckily, compared to Roger, discretion and subtlety was Tomasu's forte.
"I don't blame ya for wantin' t' go back t' the way things were, lad," he eventually sighed, a stream of smoke passing through his lips. A calloused hand clasped Shanks' shoulder. It was too thin, and he was now certain he wouldn't be letting the lad leave for a week at least. Long enough for him to get his head straight and for Arashi to put some meat back on him. "I wished that plenty when I was first branded a criminal. Much as I didn't regret my choices, I still wished I could go back t' bein' a simple sailor on a merchant ship. Wished I could easily go back t' see my wife and daughter. I had the whole world in front of me, an' it was all lookin' t' see me dead, an' I was terrified of bein' on my own."
Another shake of his head. He'd done the right thing, but that was still easy to regret when you didn't know what to do with your life. It had simply been luck or fate that the Ghostlight had found his path. He had faith that Shanks would find his once he'd had time to reflect and recover.
"An' perhaps I am wrong about ya becoming a leader. It's been known t' happen every now an' again. Not because ya don't have the potential, lad, but because it's more important that ya live your life as ya want. Not how the rest of us tell ya ya should."
Dark eyes stared seriously at the young man sitting on his couch. Getting up, he held out his hand, offering to take the wet straw hat away for a while to dry off. To not have any visual reminder of the man he'd practically worshipped so he could make his own decisions. "Now. Why don't ya tell the ol' Ghostlight what's going on in that head of yours? What you've been up to an' all that since...well, Roger."