One Piece Story
This contains spoilers
"Li Renshu... protect Luffy, the person that you're seeking will be him."
"How would I know?" he turns to the person in question and keeps his eyes on him watching for signs of movement and truth.
"He is my...
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𖥸☽
When had it become night. The bed beneath him feels so hollow. The night is cold and the sky is dark. The room is empty and desolate. He can't feel himself. His ears click. He can hear someone crying in the other room. He wonders who it is, the cries feel strangely vague. There's something in his throat and it's dry. Like he's in the hot dry airs of Alabasta. The sandy magenta. It's pressing against his heart. It's so bright. He remembers someone's word. The Red String of Fate. Something so inseparable. So lovely and pretty. Ren clutches his heart. The light is so strong. He can't see. He wonders again. When did it get so dark. There's something in his chest that he can't identify. It's pressing.
Water. Water. Is it raining. Why's it raining. This island never rains. He remembers the deep water-soaked zinnias in the middle of the night. His misses someone but he's tired and doesn't want to remember. When did it get so bright. It makes his head hurt. Tangerines. He can smell its citrus scent. It's raining again. Impossible, he thinks. Rain water can't taste like salt.
The sea he remembers. He's reminded of how vast the sea is. So expansive. So immeasurable. So lonely. He can almost see the sea turtles running through the coral reefs. He can taste the sea. It's sour. Almost as if he's bitten into a sour apple. It's so bitter. So salty. Something just cracked in his chest. The olive branch must've broke. His fingers tense. It's dark again. He feels like he's forgetting something.
There's something that's making it hard for him to breathe. It must be the air. It's bright. His head hurts. But something in him gnaws. He can taste the sea and the edges of his eyes sting. Something turns and his bones throb. He can smell soot. Something pangs deeply. Soot comes after the fire. It churns. Fire is supposed to burn. Burn violently. It's supposed to refine itself. His head hurts less and it's dark again. He's wearied. It hurts to breathe. It must be the soot. Fire isn't supposed to end. He's tired. The sky is so blue.
It's dark again.
He can't feel anything except for his heartbeat.
His heart's blood has disappeared when the embers followed after the stars.
