Strong(One Piece x Reader)[EDITING IN PROGRESS]

A Mother's Love

You sailed and made sure to land a bit away from the port if the off chance the marines somehow know your inconspicuous raft belongs to you—a deserter.

You quickly darted your eyes around, before grabbing a cloak with a hood on a drying line of a house and putting it on.

You stepped out into the Main Square of Loguetown, people bustling and stores calling for customers and deals, with the execution stand high and above in the middle of it all. Your (e/c) eyes taking all of it, the various scents of food coming to your nose, and people brushing past you as you could only stare as you walked.

It's been how long? I'm twenty two now so...its been sixteen years...You stopped, turning your head to a certain side street and going through it, making turns every which way and going downstairs to the lower level of town. I wonder if it's still there.

Your black boots scuffed the dirt underneath you as you came to a stop, your hooded eyes up towards a raggedy old sign of a bar that has seen better years. Highlighting the name in awkward cursive:  Gold Roger.

You passed by the two curtains that beheld a typical Jolly Roger that were the doorway to the bar, only to kick open the planked saloon door to enter.

"What the—I don't need any rude customers here. Unless you're paying. But no need to kick my door open!" A weathered voice stated from behind the bar counter, you turning your gaze to meet a smaller back than you remember. And a smaller stature as the bar owner cleaned his shot glasses with a cloth, purple beanie clear even in the darkened bar as he muttered to himself. "Pirates are always rude but they're the best for my business...no respect for who gives them their swine nowadays...Now," he turned towards your hooded cloaked form that was across the counter, "what would you like—(Y/N)?!"

As he spoke, you pulled your hood back to reveal your face, a nostalgic small smile pulling your lips.

"Hey, Raoul. It's...been some time hasn't it?"

Raoul, the old bar owner that's had this same bar since you could remember in respects to Gol D. Roger and still with that same old purple beanie and small round shaded glasses atop his nose, stared at you. His gaze going from your black boots to your marine cap and focusing on your left now scarred cheek that is still healing.

"..."

"..."

"...are we going to stand here in silence or—" You caught a thrown shot glass your way, your face twisted into a scowl, a tick on your temple. "What was that for?!"

"Heh," Raoul smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned on the bar counter. "Looks like you still remember your lessons from old Raoul. Took you long enough."

Your gaze cleared, you sitting on a high chair in front of the bar counter and putting the shot glass top down.

"It's not my fault you threw shot glasses at me and you broke them."

"I was testing your fight or flight," Raoul grumbled, grabbing the shot glass and cleaning it with a cloth as he kept his stare on you, eyes in the past. "You always chose flight each time you dodged them and of course you had to clean up the mess since you didn't understand the lesson. You chose to come here despite all the shot glasses thrown at you, so I guess in the end you chose fight."

"You had good food..." you mumbled to the table but Raoul heard you, flashing you a proud smile at the words. You couldn't help but do the same as you looked around the weathered bar. "Thought you said at first a kid like me wasn't supposed to be in a place like this so that's why you were trying to throw me out."

"I remember you proclaiming that you were going to be a marine," Raoul recalled, brow arched before shaking his head. "You think that would be good for business? In a pirate bar? Besides, it became more than that didn't it? After—" Raoul stopped abruptly but you can guess what he was implying, his expression turning regretful while you focused on a part of the bar counter.