I Love Thursday Nights
Dec. 29th, 2006 04:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsTitle: Waiting - 35
Pairing: ZoSopp
Rating: G
Word Count: 449
Time had moved oddly for those last few weeks on Water 7. The first days had been spent recovering, healing and resting and restoring nearly all that had been lost and regained in the shadow of the World Government’s mighty prison gates. And then there was little to do but wait. There would be a new ship, a concept that took everyone some time to process, and then life would move on as it had before. Raftel and the One Piece, Mihawk and All Blue, the entirety of the Grand Line and those poneglyphs that captivated Robin, they were all out there just waiting for the Straw Hats to arrive. But beyond the new ship (not Merry for nothing could ever be the same as the valiant craft that had carried them so far and saved them all more than once) something else was astray.
He’d mentioned it, offhand at first; mutters in the aftermath of Luffy’s surprising-and-yet-somehow-exactly-what-he’d-expected grandfather, and his words had been listened to, echoed by the shitty cook. Luffy kept himself still, holed up in a spare set of Iceburg’s offices, in an exercise of restraint greater than any similar effort they’d ever seen the rubber pirate give. Someone was ALWAYS there, waiting and wishing and wondering. But the hoped-for lost nakama never showed. And each day dimmed the light in Luffy’s eyes, sent Nami and Chopper to more mindless chatter while Sanji chain-smoked and poured Robin endless cups of coffee. His sword kept him occupied a little, another problem he couldn’t solve, but as each day his training out by the sea showed the progress being made on the new ship, he found himself caring less and less about the liability at his side and more about the one he wanted desperately to come back.
The moment came, as he had known it would inevitably have to, and though it hurt – a curious mingling like the after effects of a punch to the gut and a knee to the groin and a knife reaching for his heart but getting hung up on his ribs – he’d said what had needed to be said. Words, he hated them sometimes, and he ignored the first ones flung across smoke-tipped waves, let the hope and longing and fear in them bounce off and echo back, larger for their return journey. Cannonballs fell, split in twain by his twin blades, and he ignored the empty feeling in his mouth, the newly strange balance in his arms. He waited, listened with ears straining through the chaos for the syllables that would stop everything, and when he no longer had to pretend he was deaf, he smiled so hard his face hurt.
Pairing: ZoSopp
Rating: G
Word Count: 449
Time had moved oddly for those last few weeks on Water 7. The first days had been spent recovering, healing and resting and restoring nearly all that had been lost and regained in the shadow of the World Government’s mighty prison gates. And then there was little to do but wait. There would be a new ship, a concept that took everyone some time to process, and then life would move on as it had before. Raftel and the One Piece, Mihawk and All Blue, the entirety of the Grand Line and those poneglyphs that captivated Robin, they were all out there just waiting for the Straw Hats to arrive. But beyond the new ship (not Merry for nothing could ever be the same as the valiant craft that had carried them so far and saved them all more than once) something else was astray.
He’d mentioned it, offhand at first; mutters in the aftermath of Luffy’s surprising-and-yet-somehow-exactly-what-he’d-expected grandfather, and his words had been listened to, echoed by the shitty cook. Luffy kept himself still, holed up in a spare set of Iceburg’s offices, in an exercise of restraint greater than any similar effort they’d ever seen the rubber pirate give. Someone was ALWAYS there, waiting and wishing and wondering. But the hoped-for lost nakama never showed. And each day dimmed the light in Luffy’s eyes, sent Nami and Chopper to more mindless chatter while Sanji chain-smoked and poured Robin endless cups of coffee. His sword kept him occupied a little, another problem he couldn’t solve, but as each day his training out by the sea showed the progress being made on the new ship, he found himself caring less and less about the liability at his side and more about the one he wanted desperately to come back.
The moment came, as he had known it would inevitably have to, and though it hurt – a curious mingling like the after effects of a punch to the gut and a knee to the groin and a knife reaching for his heart but getting hung up on his ribs – he’d said what had needed to be said. Words, he hated them sometimes, and he ignored the first ones flung across smoke-tipped waves, let the hope and longing and fear in them bounce off and echo back, larger for their return journey. Cannonballs fell, split in twain by his twin blades, and he ignored the empty feeling in his mouth, the newly strange balance in his arms. He waited, listened with ears straining through the chaos for the syllables that would stop everything, and when he no longer had to pretend he was deaf, he smiled so hard his face hurt.
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 11:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 06:04 pm (UTC)Oh... and you have such a way with words that it's not even funny *awes*
Dudeeee
Date: 2007-10-02 03:47 am (UTC)You totally made my day,keep up the good work!