Chapter Text
The Heart Pirates had had a very good day.
That shipping vessel had surrendered without a fight, and now all twenty-one of the pirates were spread out across the deck, enjoying the sunny day as they picked through the lucrative haul. For once, the Grand Line is cooperating, with not a cloud in sight, a steady breeze tugging on the submarine's sails.
Law meanders through the different piles, noting different items that would be useful for the sub, pricing out more expensive items they can sell. As he gets to Shachi and Penguin, arguing over a piece of treasure, Law finds himself actually smiling. He has a good crew.
At least, when they're not arguing like children over the spoils of war.
"Shach, I saw it first, I called dibs, it's mine- "
"You don't even use swords! What are you going to do with it?!"
"Sell it, duh . It's obviously worth a lot, I can-"
"You're not even going to keep it ?! You don't deserve-"
"Hey! Morons!" Interrupts Law, rubbing his temples, "What are we arguing over?"
Both men snap to, saluting their captain quickly, as Penguin holds up a sword for Law to see. "I saw it first, Cap! Took it right from underneath the ship's captain. Tell Shachi that it's mine!"
"That's bullshit! You can't even draw it-"
"Neither can you!"
"Shut it, both of you!" Law snaps, rolling his eyes and taking the sword from Penguin to inspect it.
It was a katana. An exquisite one. The sheath bone-white, finely lacquered. The tsuba intricate, detailing the shape of a lotus flower. Fine white silk wrapped around the handle, laced delicately over ray skin.
"Incredible," He whispered, eyes wide. He grips the handle, raising an eyebrow as he feels something surge underneath his hand.
This was no ordinary sword. It had a presence, just like Kikoku. It felt like a crouched tiger, ready to pounce under Law's hand.
"You can't draw it?" He asked Penguin, not taking his eyes off the sword.
Penguin shakes his head, frowning, "I think it's stuck. Neither of us could draw it. Something's wrong with the sheath."
"Incorrect," Law murmurs softly, "It just needs some convincing." He tightens his grip on the sheath, flicks the tsuba, and pulls .
The steel sings as it's freed from the wood, the blued blade gleaming in the sun. A wave of power washes over Law as something is unleashed from the sword, something hungry, something furious. It feels like wielding a hurricane, Law standing in the middle of the eye of the storm as chaos swirled around him.
And then it's gone.
Law stands there, holding the beautiful sword, Penguin and Shachi staring in wonder. He inspects the steel, admiring the beautiful hamon. It was one of a kind. Law was willing to bet good money that it was one of the special grade swords. He sheathes the sword, the presence that had been pouring out of the steel muting itself.
Not cursed, He thinks to himself, examining the sheath once again, Not like Kikoku. A soul? Could be. He's heard stories. Stories of swords with a mind of their own.
He smiled. This was going to be a delightful puzzle.
"I'm taking this," He says simply. Penguin and Shachi's faces fall, frowning but both merely shrug in unison, knowing better than to argue with their captain.
He turns smartly on his heel, letting the two get back to arguing about the rest of the treasure. A quick "Room" and the beautiful sword is quietly tucked away in his quarters. He'll have time to examine it properly later. For now, there was treasure to sort.
And what kind of pirate would he be if he didn't at least take some enjoyment in that?
–
It's late in the night when he finally stumbles back into the captain's quarters.
They'd all stayed up late, breaking out the rum, celebrating a successful haul. Law admittedly had indulged a bit more than usual, but fuck it, he deserved it.
They were a pirate crew braving the Grand Line, and they deserved to take advantage of a good day when they had the rare chance.
He's not exactly surprised to find someone else standing in his room.
The Polar Tang is, at its best moments, a Non-Euclidean labyrinth that defies all logic and science. Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, shit, even Ikakku could be relied upon to lose their way to the bunks and drunkenly stumble into Law's room. Law had once thought he was on his way to the mess and ended up in the boiler room, despite having lived on the sub for almost ten years.
No, what he's surprised about is that it's a stranger.
The man is stocky, broad shouldered, muscles just barely hidden underneath a deep green traditional robe of Wano design. He's short, shorter than Law by a good bit, but obviously built more for strength than the lanky doctor. His broad back is to Law, he can't see his face. What he can see is sea-green hair tumbling down his neck to his shoulders, like a mane, feathery and messy. He's glowing, like he's standing under silvery moonlight, despite the lack of light in the room.
Three swords, tucked into a haramaki, one of them a familiar bone-white.
Law blinks, frozen, and his drunken haze makes him lose focus, the man dissolving into a fuzz of green, before re-solidifying.
"I don't know who the fuck you are," He growls, low and vicious, grabbing Kikoku, flicking the furry tsuba with his thumb to break the seal, "And I don't know how the fuck you got on my ship, but it's the last mistake you'll ever make."
The man turns around slowly, calmly, despite the threat.
The first thing Law notices is his eyes. Or, rather, eye , singular. One silver eye, hard as steel, boring into Law. The other, scarred over, closed like it will never open again. A matching green beard softens the line of his chin. A ghost of a smile graces the man's face as the silver gaze scans Law up and down.
From nowhere, a voice drifts into Law's head. It thrums low in his brain, a deep vibrato shaking him to his core.
I am what you awoke. The better question is, who are you , to draw the Wado Ichimonji?
"The what?" Law asks in confusion.
But the man is gone. Law is alone in the room. Alone with a bone-white sword, leaning against his desk, right where he'd left it.
Law relaxes, leaning against the wall as the room spins around him. Too much rum. That was the problem.
He stumbles into bed, dismissing the vision of the man as too much drink, and falls asleep in his clothes, clutching Kikoku.
–
The next morning, Law stumbles into the mess, dragging his pet hangover with him, looking like death warmed over in the microwave.
"Rough night, cap?" Bepo asks, sliding a mug full of steaming coffee over to him. Law grips the mug tightly, staring into the black liquid like it held the answers to the world. He groans as he slumps onto the table, pulling his fluffy hat down over his eyes, hiding from the harsh lights of the mess.
His dreams last night had been plagued with green and silver and blood. Rage, neverending, bright and furious, till only the full might of the sea could quench it.
Law, as rule, did not dream.
Oooh, someone can't handle his rum… The smooth voice is coming from behind him, bright with humor and a soft chuckle.
"Who the fuck said that?!" Law sits straight back up, pulling his hat up to glare at the gathered crewmembers, who are all looking at him, confused, breakfasts forgotten.
"Who said what?" Ikakku asked with a curious look.
Law ground his teeth, death in his eyes as he growled, "Who - the fuck- said I couldn't handle my rum?"
"No one said anything like that, cap," Penguin said cautiously, scooching out of amputation range.
Law looked around, but no one looked close to 'fessing up. Instead, he stood up sharply, grabbing his coffee and stalking out of the mess, back to his room.
The halls of the Polar Tang stretched before him, the fluorescent lights playing havoc with his headache.
Aw, little guy's grumpy. Not enough sleep?
He whipped around, looking for the source of the deep voice.
And was met with the empty hallway.
"Get it together, Law," He groaned to himself, rubbing his face.
He slumps back into his room, swigging the last of the coffee, before falling into bed. He lay there for a good five minutes, head throbbing. He's hearing things. And seeing things, if his drunken memory could be trusted.
He considers the possibility that he's finally snapped. He's never been accused of being particularly stable, after all.
He rolls out of bed, groaning as the floor spins underneath him. Lurching for his desk, he crashes into his chair, slumping down onto the familiar wood. He shambles another mug of coffee into his hands.
Hallucinations, both auditory and visual. But other than that, he feels relatively normal. Sleep-deprived and over-caffeinated, maybe, but that was his baseline. He shrugs, deciding to distract himself instead of focusing on his possible mental break.
Taking a long swig of the bitter drink, relishing the delicious burn, he pulls a small wooden box towards him. Opening it up, he slips on the soft white silk gloves, drapes an oil cloth over the desk, and puts his inspection glasses on. Shambling a book from the library, he pulls the sword up onto his workspace.
Unsheathing her once again, Law can only marvel at the craftsmanship of the sword.
She's flawless.
He flips open the book, scanning through pages, comparing the maker's mark, the details on the tsuba, even down to the type of wood the sheath is constructed with, till he finds his answer.
Law had figured that the sword was special grade, from the first moment he'd seen it.
Wado Ichimonji , the voice had said last night. And it had been right.
The sword he was holding was legendary. Centuries old, passed down the Shimotsuki line, it was thought to have been lost over a hundred years ago.
Exquisite, isn't she? The rough voice came once again, whispered into Law's ear.
He whipped around once again, and once again met with emptiness.
Though.
If he was willing to believe it, in the corner of his eye was a flash of green.
Law took a deep breath, closing his eyes, feeling the presence of Wado Ichimonji fill the room.
He opened his eyes again.
The man was half sitting on the desk, running his hand along the white sheath. His green hair was just a bit shorter this time, face a little softer, the shadow of a stubble gracing his face.
"Hi there." He waved.
Law stared at him.
He stared at Law.
"No," Law stated.
A single eye creased in confusion. " What?"
"You're not real," Law clarified, flipping the glasses down again, changing the focus, as he started examining the sword once again.
"The fuck you mean, I'm not real?"
Law picked up the sheath, inspecting the grain of the sheath. "It's simple. I'm hallucinating. Wouldn't be the first time."
The vision scowled, his frown uneven as the scar tugged on his cheek, "You're not hallucinating, asshole."
"Sure I am," Law stated with a shrug, "Happens all the time. Say hi to Cora-san for me."
A large hand covered Law's own tattoos on top of the sheath, and Law cursed at the freezing touch, snatching his hand away. He looked up, back at that unnerving silver eye, that insistent gaze. "What-"
The man slid off the desk, standing up, folding his arms in front of his scarred chest. "You're not seeing things, " He repeated, "You're the one who drew the sword in the first place."
"The sword?"
"Yeah dumbass," He rolled his eyes, "Wado Ichimonji. My sword."
Law was speechless, eyeing the sword on the desk again. "How- Who are you?"
"Roronoa Zoro."
"Roronoa Zoro," Law echoed.
"Yup."
"Roronoa Zoro," Law said slowly, "What are you, then?"
The green haired man smiled devilishly, leaning in, letting Law feel his cold presence.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm a ghost."
–
That afternoon, Law found himself at a bar at the next island, drinking the best vodka he could afford, as the rest of the crew handled selling the rest of the treasure from their latest haul.
Except the sword.
Despite Law's… misgivings about the sword, he couldn't bring himself to part with it. Which is why he found himself at the bar, Wado Ichimonji hanging from his belt, Kikoku slung across his back. He finished his glass, tapping the bar to get the bartender's attention for a refill.
"Wow, and here was I, thinking you couldn't handle your liquor," A voice came from beside him, and Law scowled.
"I told you, I don't believe in ghosts," He said firmly as he took another stiff drink, trying his best to ignore the apparition.
The green robed figure, Roronoa Zoro if he was to be believed, laughed as he laid on the bar, ghostly form getting into people's drinks as he lounged. "You can believe whatever you want, Spots, doesn't stop me from being here, does it?"
" What did you just call me?!"
"Spots," The ghost laughed, flicking Law's hat, "It fits."
"Fuck. Off." Law growled.
"Hah! No way." Zoro leaned back, grinning, his elbow in Law's drink. He watched in fascination as ice formed around the edges of the glass. "You're too much fun. I don't get out much, after all. Being a ghost and all."
"How does that work, then?" Law asked, ignoring the strange looks he was getting, seemingly talking to himself.
The ghost just shrugged. "Iunno. I was alive. Got caught in a storm. Died. Next time someone drew Wado, there I was."
"So no afterlife then?" Zoro just shrugged. "Huh. That's gonna make a lot of churches mad." Law drummed his fingers on the bar. He looked the ghost in the eyes, "Tell me about yourself."
"What's there to tell?"
"When did you die?"
"What year is it?"
"1520."
Zoro's eye went wide, "Wow. So it's been fifteen years since Wado has been drawn. Huh." His face fell a little, staring off into the distance. Then he shrugged his broad shoulders, as if shedding a great weight. "I died in 1413, I think? I was sailing the Grand Line, looking for swords."
"Swords?"
"Yeah. Like Wado." A sad look crossed his face, as he patted the three swords hanging from his hip . "My country, Wano, was once plundered. In the raid, many swords were stolen from us, swords that meant something. History. Family. Strength. Grief. Where I'm from, a sword is more than a weapon. It's a part of us. That those swords were stolen from us, it's like a part of our soul was stolen from us." He sighed, jumping down from the bar, drawing one of his swords from a red scabbard. "So when I turned seventeen, I set out to go find them all."
In a flash, his appearance changed, the green robe melting away, replaced with an old-fashioned shirt and pants, his hair shortened to almost a buzz cut, and the other eye opened, scarless. It was only then that Law noticed the three earrings in his left ear, dangling and gold, shining in the dim bar light.
The teenager threw him a shitty smirk, "Yeah, I was just a lil punk back then," He shifted back, this time closer to Law's own age. Clean shaven, the lines on his face only whispers now, his hair just long enough to get in his eyes. The green robe was back, this time looking well-worn, repaired in numerous places.
Law scratched at his goatee, trying to remember Wano in his history books. "Aren't Wano's borders closed? They have been for centuries if I recall."
Zoro smirked, "Like I let that stop me." Law almost laughed . "Snuck out on a fishing dinghy. Eventually found myself bounty hunting, pirating, whatever I could to get by. Traveled the world like that, I did. Till that freak hurricane shipwrecked me after fifteen years." He heaved a big sigh, leaning back against the bar next to Law.
"Sounds about right," Law mused, "The Grand Line's a bitch."
"Who's a bitch?" Ikakku's voice drifted over Law's shoulder.
Law nearly fell out of his seat. " Jesus , you need to stop sneaking up on me like that!"
She just laughed as she passed through Zoro to sit in the seat next to Law. "Wasn't trying to. Not my fault you're jumpy. We finished selling off the treasure. Ready to set sail when you are, cap."
"Oh, I like her," Zoro's voice drifted into Law's ear, and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from responding.
"We'll stay the night," He said instead, "Let the crew know they have the night off. I'll be back at the ship."
–
"So what are you doing on the Grand Line, Spots?"
It was the middle of the night, Law sitting up in the crow's nest having taken the night watch, as he usually did. He snuggled down into his yellow sweatshirt, spotted hat pulled low. The shimmering form of Zoro sat across from him, a quiet sea breeze tugging at that green hair, relaxing against the railing.
Law shrugs at the question. "Same story as most. Revenge."
"Let me guess. Dead family?"
"Twice over."
"Shit."
Law shrugs again, watching the moon play on the waves. "I know who's responsible. I know where he is. I have a path."
"And then?"
Law raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"What are you going to do once he's dead? Go for king of the Pirates? Reach Laughtale?
He considered the question. Law doesn't think he's quite ever thought of anything past Joker. "I don't know," He says quietly, "Probably not King of the Pirates. That sounds… exhausting. Laughtale, maybe."
Zoro's silver eye catches him, the same color as the shining moon. "Revenge is fine. Honorable, even. Just don't forget the point is to keep living after. Think about it. If not for your sake, for theirs ," He nods his head below them, to the sleeping crew beneath the deck of the Polar Tang.
They sit there in silence for a while longer, comfortable in the quietness of the night.
"Does Kikoku have a ghost?" Law asks out of nowhere.
"Does… what?"
"Kikoku. My sword. Does she have a ghost like you?"
Zoro stares at him for a moment. Then starts laughing uncontrollably. His usually deep voice brightened as he wipe tears from his eye.
"It's an honest question," Law grumbles.
"No, no, it is, it's just-" Zoro stops laughing long enough to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes, "No. She's cursed alright, but that's different from me. I don't know that there's anything else like me."
"You're certainly… unique," Law agreed.
Zoro shot him a flat look. "Watch your tone, kid. I could wipe the floor with you, and I'm dead ," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I think Kikoku has a soul. It's possible she could produce some sort of apparition similar to me, but that'd be a sword spirit, not a ghost, and it'd be very, very dangerous."
"How so?"
"Cursed swords are not kind to their masters. Most turn on them eventually." He drummed his fingers against the red scabbard on his hip, not even seeming to notice he was doing it, "Kikoku especially. You haven't noticed yet, because you're not looking for it. But she's bloodthirsty. Giving her form like that gives her the autonomy to do what she wants. She could decide you're not strong enough to wield her anymore, and have the ability to kill ya about it."
Law gripped the smooth sheath under his hands, tracing the white crosses. He could feel it, what Zoro was talking about. Kikoku always felt like a leashed beast in his hands, growling and frothing at the mouth for blood. He knew, had known, that she was dangerous. But in his hands, it felt like freedom.
"Then again," Zoro continued, watching the interplay between Law and Kikoku with a curious eye, "She seems to like you. You never know. But that'll be up to her. You won't be able to draw her out. And besides. She's less like a soul right now. More like a raging storm of bloodlust. You need to get her to calm down before she'll be able to form a spirit."
Law hummed, running his hand over the sheath. Yeah. He'd work on it. He’d like to meet his own sword.
–
"So the cap's definitely snapped, right?" Shachi whispered to Bepo, watching their captain get his dinner from across the mess. Bepo nodded in agreement, as they watch Law mumble something over his shoulder to someone who was not there.
It'd been about a week since they'd taken down that merchant ship, and the captain of the Heart Pirates had been acting weird ever since. He was hearing things, seeing things, talking to people who weren't there, and it just kept getting worse.
"I think it's the sword," Penguin whispered, "Ever since he drew it, he's been acting weird. Swords can be cursed, right? What if the sword stole his soul ." He accented his dramatic theory by wiggling his fingers. Bepo looked like he was going to faint.
"That's not it, idiot," Shachi cut in, "Kikoku's cursed, right? Cap can handle cursed swords. Look. We know Cap doesn't exactly take care of himself, right? I think he's just snapped. Under the pressure, y'know? We've been on the Grand Line for what, six months? And like, it's been hell. I think the stress is finally getting to him."
"What's getting to who?" Law asked smoothly, just a hint of warning in his tone as he slid into his usual spot next to Bepo.
"Oh heeey, Captaaaaaiiiiin," Penguin's voice rose an octave, trying to cover their conversation.
"Hi," Law stated gravely, staring him down with dead eyes from underneath his hat.
"So Cap! Been getting enough sleep lately?" Shachi asked with the grace of a bull in a china shop.
"The same as usual," Law deadpanned as he stared holes into Shachi.
Translation: I have been consistently falling unconscious, which counts as sleep.
"What about food? Been eating enough?"
Law raised an eyebrow as he took a pointed bite of his steak.
Translation: I have eaten food. At some point.
"How much water have you been drinking? You know it's very hard to stay properly hydrat-"
"Shachi?" The captain put down his fork, lacing his tattooed fingers together in front of his face, an icy smile gracing his face, hawk's eyes staring daggers into Shachi's soul from underneath his hat. "Would you like to tell me what this is about?"
"Uhhhh…" Shachi and Penguin looked at Bepo, begging silently for help. The polar bear discretely shook his head, giving the both of them a look that clearly said, You got yourself into this, you gotta get yourself out.
"Well-" Penguin started.
"It's just, y'know-"
"Lately, just lately, you know-"
"You just seem a little…"
"Distracted!"
"Exactly. Distracted. Kinda…Flaky?"
"Jumpy?"
"And paranoid?"
"He's always paranoid, dumbass."
The two of them froze at the glowering expression on their captain's face.
"No, please, keep going. I'd like to hear more about how flaky I seem to be lately," He purred, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes gracing his face. Like he was wondering how best to dissect them.
They both paled, then immediately jumped over each other, trying to apologize and escape at the same time.
"You two are right though," Law interrupted after watching them squirm for a moment.
"What?"
"We are?"
"Yeah," Law said simply, as he stood to leave, "The new sword's haunted."
The two Hearts stopped fighting, staring at their captain.
"What?" Bepo asked, eyes wide.
Law just shrugged as he left the table, "Sword's haunted."
–
He's reading one of his favorite books on dissection practices, curled up in his big wing-backed armchair in the library, when Hakugan silently walks in. Law takes a sip of his coffee, nodding at the helmsman.
Hakugan sits in front of him, cross-legged on the floor, there being no other chairs in the small library. The smiling mask stares at Law, and he stares back over the book. They tilt their head slightly.
"Yes, it's haunted," He answers the silent question. They nod, resting their head on their hand. Law sighs, marking his spot in the book.
"His name is Roronoa Zoro. He's a swordsman from over a century ago." He glances behind Hakugan, narrowing his eyes, "And he is currently making faces behind you."
Hakugan turns around quickly, waving their hand through the ghostly form. Their hand slows inside Zoro's leg, fingers curling, like they can feel the freezing cold ghost.
They probably can, Law thinks. Hakugan's weird. It's why he likes them.
"Who is this guy?" Zoro asks, an annoyed look on his face as Hakugan continues to inspect him.
"Hakugan, Zoro-ya," Law introduces, taking another sip of coffee, "Zoro-ya, Hakugan. Play nice. They're my favorite."
Hakugan laces their fingers and rests their head on their hands, looking as happy as their smiling mask at the compliment. Then, they relaxed, their head tilting in another question aimed at Law.
He nods, closing his eyes. "I'm fine, Hakugan. He's annoying, sure, but not frustrating. If it gets too much, I'll just throw the sword in the ocean."
Zoro drills him with a glare. "You wouldn't dare," He warns.
Law just grins wickedly. "Try me, swordsman," He purrs back.
–
"Wow, you suck at this."
Law grit his teeth, focusing on the fight in front of him.
He should never have picked up that damn sword.
Or, alternatively, he should have just thrown it in the ocean once he found out it was haunted by the most annoying backseat fighter in the world.
He blocks the marine's attack, kicking him in the chest, then whirls Kikoku around, stabbing the one at his back.
"See, right there," Zoro commented, as if talking about the weather, "Where's your footwork? Why all the wasted movement?"
"Little busy right now!" He spat out, as he switched himself with the marine who was about to take Shachi's head. How did these guys find them, anyways? They'd been sailing along, when the marines had come out of nowhere, and now there was a full drawn out battle on the deck of the Tang.
In the midst of all the chaos, Zoro was laying on the deck, watching the fighting with bored interest, offering unhelpful commentary the entire time.
"Sloppy," He says disdainfully as Law cuts down another marine, "You're forcing things. Not letting the sword do the work. Your mechanics are shit."
Law growls as he rolls out of the way of a spear aimed at him, spinning around to slice the man's feet off. "We are not doing this right now!"
"There's a guy on your right," Zoro said as he inspected his nails, "C'mon, I have one eye and I'm dead . You can do better than this."
Law's going to throw the damn sword in the ocean.
He growls in frustration as he slices the man's arms off, depositing them overboard. "You could actually be helpful, you know!"
"I told you there was a guy on your right." The ghost pointed out, "Can't do much more than that."
"Law!" Ikakku yelled from across the deck, pointing her rocket launcher at the marine ship, "Stop chatting up your ghost and actually deal with these guys, please!" The bazooka went off, wailing off to the marine ship. The other ship rocked in the water as it was hit with a huge explosion.
"I'm not exactly sitting around, here!" He yelled back as he shambled an incoming cannon ball back to the marines. "You tell him to stop bothering me !"
"Ghosty boy! Stop distracting the captain! Or I'm hiring a fucking exorcist!"
"Oh I like her," Zoro said again with a laugh.
After hitting the marine ship with enough rockets, they finally started pulling back, the left behind marines swimming after their fading ship as fast as they could.
Law directed Bepo to plot a new course, while Penguin and Shachi cleaned up the deck. Law stalked to the infirmary, ordering the injured to meet him there. Zoro followed him, his now ever-present shadow.
"You're a good captain, you know that?" He mrumurs as they reach the infirmary. Law stopped just in front of the door.
"What?" He asked, not turning around.
"You care about your crew. It's obvious."
Law gripped the handle of the door. "They're my crew,” He simply stated, "It's my job to take care of them." He wasn't sure how to explain it beyond that.
"Want me to teach you how to actually use that sword of yours?"
He whipped around, getting right up in Zoro's face, towering over the ghost. "For the love of god, I fight just fine! I'm the best on this fucking ship!"
"No," Zoro said, looking up into Law's eyes with a smirk, "You're not. Because I'm here."
"What a fucking ego-"
"It's the truth," Zoro interrupted with a shrug. "Look, you're not a bad fighter. Really. In fact I wouldn't even hesitate to call you adequate. But you could be great . Let me teach you." That silver eye looked up into Law's, earnest and full of honesty. "You're on the Grand Line , Law. You think good is going to cut it here? You haven't even reached the New World yet. If you don't take this seriously you're going to get killed."
He's right. Law knows it, hates to admit it, but he knows it. If he doesn't get better fast, he is going to get his crew killed.
"Fine," He snaps, "Teach me. Later. After I'm finished treating everyone."
Zoro grins like a cat who's caught a mouse. "That's all I wanna hear, Spots."
–
"First off, you're holding your sword wrong." They're in the training room, surrounded by weights and workout equipment, with only just enough space for Law to swing the long sword around.
"What do you mean?"
Zoro just sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Kikoku is a nodachi, not a katana. You're holding a five foot long sword. It is not a one-handed weapon. Here, watch me." He unsheathed one of his own ghostly swords, holding it into a two handed grip, "You're not getting enough power with your swings."
"Seem to be cutting people just fine," Law grumbles, but he matches Zoro's stance.
The swordsman's eye rolls, as he uses his foot to adjust Law's feet. "Yes, but you're using your power to augment that. Which is cheating. And when you aren't, you're wasting energy. You were exhausted after fighting some second rate marines. You need to be better than that. You need to be able to destroy those guys if you want any chance of surviving what comes next."
Once he's satisfied with Law's stance, they start working through different strikes, Zoro pointing out spots for improvement, how to spot an opponent's weakness, how to move more efficiently, how to analyze the fight in the heat of battle, making snap decisions in split seconds.
It's hours of hard work, and by the end of it, Law is laying on the floor, exhausted.
"Why are you hesitating?" Zoro asks as he kneels down next to Law.
Law takes a deep, shuddering breath, before protesting, "I'm not hesitating- "
"Yes. You are. You don't like striking at the head or chest. You aim to amputate, instead of kill, when your enemies would prefer to see you dead without the honor to face you directly. Why?"
Law sighs, sitting up without using his hands, abs protesting. He hides his face in his hands. "I don't want to kill people," He mumbles.
"What."
"I don’t like to kill people!" Law almost yelled, staring at the floor. "I'm a surgeon! A doctor! I'm supposed to help people, not kill them!" He runs his hands through his hair, fingers catching on sweaty tangles, not daring to look the swordsman in the face. "It just so happens that the nature of my life means that I'm constantly fighting for my life, but it shouldn't mean I have to kill people just to get what I want!" He looks up, into the swordsman's face, the man with so much more experience in this than he had, "Does it?" He asks, pleading for some shred of hope.
Law did not set out to become the Surgeon of Death. He is intent on killing, yes, but only one person, specifically. He did not mean to become a harbinger of death and destruction like his reputation says he is.
Law understands who he is.
He can be cruel. He can be cold.
But he is a doctor. First and foremost.
And doctor's do their best not to kill.
Zoro's expression softens as he lays a cold hand on Law's shoulder. "No, it doesn't," He agrees, deep voice serious, but comforting, "But it does mean you have to train. Harder. Than anyone. Any fool can pick up a sword and kill someone. But a warrior with true skill can maim. Knows where to cut to end the fight. Skill is what gives you the option to spare or dispatch your enemies. You need to completely outclass someone, to subdue them without killing or getting killed yourself. You need to be the best."
Law nods, the words hitting home. The best. He could be that.
"Teach me," He insists, repeating his own words from earlier, but this time, he fucking means it.
"There we go," Zoro purrs, clearly pleased, "That's the fire I want to see. Now, what do you know about Haki?"
–
"You've been to the New World." It's a question, phrased as a statement. They're back in Law's quarters, Law carefully cleaning Kikoku and Wado as Zoro watches on.
"Yes," Is the simple reply he gets.
"When you were alive?"
Zoro shakes his head, those three earrings chiming. "It was about twenty years ago."
"Are we ready?"
“Hah!” A surprised laugh bursts out of Zoro. "No! Not in the slightest. No one's ever ready for the New World. Even the crew I was with, they were the best , the strongest , and they still called that place Hell on Earth . The New World is going to chew your crew up and spit you out."
"Hey-"
"You ever seen lightning rain, Spots?"
"You mean a thunderstorm?"
"No. No I do not." The ghost laughs, cold and devoid of humor. Law gives him a look, but he's just staring off into the distance.
He wipes Kikoku's blade, carefully inspecting her for any dirt or grime, and decides to change topics. "Tell me about your swords."
"Eh?"
"Your swords," Law repeats, nodding at the ones hanging from Zoro's hip. "You said swords are like a part of your soul. Tell me about yours."
He smiles softly, his shimmering form wavering slightly as he pulls the three blades from his haramaki. "Well, this one's Wado. You know her already. A kinder sword you'll never find. Sharp enough to cut anything, smart enough to cut only what you want her to. She's got a lot of history. Passed down from legendary Shimotsuki to legendary Shimotsuki. The only reason I have her -" His voice chokes.
He shakes his head, moving on to the red wrapped sheath, "This is Sandai Kitestu. She's a little more ferocious. But reliable. Show her you mean business, that you're the boss, and she'll perform however you need her to."
Finally, he moved on to the pitch black blade , "Man, I wish you could see this one in person. This is Enma . One of the Supreme Grade blades. This one… I once wasn't paying attention and sliced the top of a mountain right off. It's like a tamed tiger. It'll behave, sure, until the moment you show any weakness at all. Then it'll take your head right off."
"What about the ones you were looking for?" Law asks, "Did you find them?"
Zoro goes still. He looks off into the distance, caught in the past. "Some of them. Yubashiri was shattered. Nidai Kitetsu I managed to send home. Some of them I've found after I died. I got lucky and the person wielding Wado at the time was able to get Enma and Sandai Kitetsu home for me." He looked at the floor, fury in his eye. "I've never found Shusui."
"Shusui?"
Zoro gripped his Wado's handle tightly, tensing, then relaxing. He breathes deep, meditatively. "Have you ever heard of Shimotsuki Ryuma?"
Law shakes his head.
"He was the best. The greatest swordsman in the world, centuries ago." He speaks softly, lost in memory, the fringe of his hair covering his eye, "He was the hero of Wano. Cut down countless monsters and saved the country many times over. And they stole his fucking sword ," He growls, as his form shimmers and waves, till it almost looks likes there's three of him, back to back in a circle.
Law blinks, and could almost swear he sees fangs growing out of Zoro's mouth. An aura gathers around him, and Zoro looks more other-worldly than he ever has, more like a demon than a man.
"I need to find Shusui. I need to bring my ancestor home." He speaks the words like a vow, said many times over, repeated over the past century.
If ghosts are born of unfinished business, Law is certain that Shusui is Zoro's.
"We'll do it," He finds himself saying, vowing, "Wano is in the New World. We're already on our way. We'll find it and bring it home."
Glowing silver meets his eyes, and he resists the urge to squirm under that unyielding gaze. "How do you expect to succeed when the others, everyone else who has told me that, the best of the best , has failed?"
He grits his teeth, lacing tattooed fingers together, before purring, "They're not me. "
Zoro grinned viciously, form shimmering and settling back into his usual form.
Law wasn't sure where that came from.
He'd just promised something big.
Something that could distract him from his path.
But- he found himself enraptured. Entranced by this ghost, this spirit.
The way he spoke about his swords, looking at them like they were old friends, smiling at old memories. The tensing of his muscles, the soft tug at the left side of his face when the scar tissue pulled on his smile.
He stared at the shimmering sea-green hair, and shook himself out of it once he realized he was imagining how it would feel in his hands.
Law was not going to fall for a dead man.
Even if the dead man was drop dead gorgeous.
–
Law ignores it.
The way that Zoro has begun to consume his thoughts.
The way he can't stop thinking about his hair, the relaxed way he walks, the intense look in his eye when they're training.
The way his voice rumbles through Law's brain, hitting something deep and feral in him.
The way he starts to get anxious when the ghost disappears, as he's want to do from time to time.
Law can't even begin to process it, so he ignores it.
–
Sabaody is loud.
Sabaody is loud and bright.
Law hates it immediately.
"Aww, is someone a little grumpy this morning?"
"Fuck off ," He growls under his breath, drawing a worried glance from Bepo. He just shrugs in response. They're gonna have to get used to it at some point.
"Man, this place has changed so much," Zoro says, floating along next to them as they stroll through the gorgeous groves, "It's only been, what, thirty years since I was last through here? Where'd that amusement park come from?"
Law rolls his eyes as he sends Hakugan and Ikakku off to buy supplies for the ship, then turns back to his ghost, "Don't forget we're here for work. I need to find some information. Joker has to have an operation here."
"Supposedly there's an information broker in Grove 41," Penguin supplies helpfully. "Don't know their name though."
Law just shrugs, "We can check it out, at least."
Twenty minutes later, and they're walking through the positively suburban Grove 41. Cute little shops and cozy homes line the walkway, and Law wants to puke.
It's as they're walking by yet another restaurant that Zoro stiffens.
"What is it?" Law murmurs, under his breath.
Still floating along, Zoro leans into Law's ear, whispering, "Work your skills. Cast out with your haki. What do you feel?"
Law stills, following the ghost's instruction, closing his eyes. The aura of the ordinary people keep walking past, he filters those out, Zoro's asking him to look for something specific, so he casts out further, and further till he reaches- Well. He's found what he's looking for.
A bright aura, strong, imposing, almost domineering. It overshadows everything in the area, watching everything. Law freezes as it notices him too, but it silently passes him by. "Who the fuck is that?" Law whispers incredulously.
But Zoro is gone.
Law sighs. He does this sometimes, just retreats back into the sword. "For a nap" Zoro'll say.
Shaking his head, Law decides that without his ghostly guide (Or, his cheat code, as Shachi kept calling him), the only thing they could do was walk in the direction of that imposing aura.
I t's pouring out of a run-down bar, the rusting sign naming it "Shakky's Rip Off". Bepo and Penguin give him disgusted looks, but Law just shrugs and opens the door.
The inside smells like stale beer and cigarettes, but the floor is clean, and the chairs are comfortable. They grab a booth, waving over the smoking bartender, and order.
Law's haki work isn't the best yet, but he's pretty sure she's not the source of that intense aura. But they were so close to it now that it smothered everything, so he couldn't be sure. Not truly knowing why they're there, the four of them decide now is as good a time for lunch as any, and order some food.
After about thirty minutes, the door to the bar opens again, and the aura goes from intense to unbearable. Law swears under his breath as he cranes his head to catch a glimpse of the source of his headache.
It's an old man.
He looks about seventy, long silver hair tumbling down, smile lines gracing a scruffy face and an interesting beard. Law barely notices the scarred eye underneath the glasses.
The kind face, the baggy clothes, all of it was a mask. Underneath lay hard muscles, the kind smile just didn't reach his eyes, silver flicking back and forth, quickly analyzing the unfamiliar people in the bar.
This was a dangerous old man.
But a good one, a voice whispered in his ear, and he whipped around, searching, but there still was no trace of the swordsman.
"Shakky! Pull up a whiskey," The old man was yelling at the bartender, laughing the whole time, "I got another job in an hour, I need to make it quick!" The bartender, Shakky, rolls her eyes, then walks into the back, complaining about him drinking all her top shelf.
Silence descends on the bar. Law and his companions pick at their food, trying to stay unnoticed. The man was certainly the source of the aura, but beyond that, they didn't know how that helped them. And Zoro was being characteristically unhelpful.
"Hey kid," The deep voice calls from the bar, "That's a nice sword you have there."
Law freezes, eyeing the strong back of the old man, "Which one?" He grips the handle of Wado Ichimonji, Kikoku tucked next to him.
The man swivels around on the barstool, one foot crossed over his knee, leaning back against the bar like he doesn't have a care in the world. "They both are, for sure," He says, waving his glass in their general direction, "But I'm talking about the Wado Ichimonji ."
You could hear a pin drop in the old bar.
Law stands up explosively, Kikoku in his hands, the other Hearts standing up with him, already snarling, "You'll pry her out of my cold, dead-"
"Woah, woah, hey!" The old guy raises his hands in surrender, "No need for none of that now! He's given me enough trouble for one lifetime already."
Wait. He's?
Law freezes. Stares at the old man, at the annoying, knowing smirk on his face.
"So," The old man continues after a beat, narrowing his eyes as he takes a sip of his whiskey, "Have you been able to draw it?"
Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin explode all at once.
"Wait-"
"So you know-"
"It's real?!"
"SHUT IT!" Law yells, shooting a dirty look their way.
"Sorry," Bepo says, looking like a kicked puppy.
He turns back to the laughing old man, wiping tears from his eyes. "So you know him?" Law asks, with a raised eyebrow.
The old man nods, still chuckling a little at the Hearts antics. "Oh yeah. He's an… old friend, a comrade, you could say." He motions for the barstool next to him, and Law slides in, leaning Kikoku against the bar. "Name's Rayleigh. Nice to meet ya."
Law shakes the offered hand, still cautious, but saying, "Trafalgar Law."
"Nice to meet ya, Trafalgar. So, where'd you find the old man?"
"Merchant ship."
"Now what were you doing there?" Rayleigh laughs softly, speaking to the white sword on Law's hip.
"He's uh- He's not here right now."
Rayleigh shakes his head, smiling, "No, he wouldn't be. Roronoa never liked being reminded that his people kept on getting older without him. He doesn't want to see an old man, not when he can remember me from twenty years ago."
Twenty years ago… "It was your ship," Law states, numbly, "The one he went to the New World on."
The old man nods sagely, eyes closed in remembrance. "Yup, me and the rest of the Roger Pirates."
The… Law's brain short circuits at those words as the Hearts behind him go absolutely ballistic.
He glares at the sword on his hip, furiously whispering, "Oh we are talking about that when we get back to the ship, asshole."
Rayleigh's laughing again, and that's when Law's brain finally starts working again.
Scarred eye. Sword on the hip. Long hair that once could have been blonde. Roger Pirates.
Law almost pulled a sword on Dark King Rayleigh.
He hides his face in his hands as he groans, "I'm such an idiot."
Rayleigh slaps his back, laughing, "Don't feel too bad, I'm retired these days, no big deal." Once things calmed down, he looked Law in the eyes, a little more serious now, "Now, tell me about my old comrade."
Law took a deep breath, calming himself, rubbing his hand over the silk-wrapped handle of Wado. "He's a ghost," He deadpanned.
"That he is," Rayleigh nods.
"He's annoying as fuck. Won't shut up about footwork every time I'm fighting."
"Hah! Roger hated that, and he never shut up," His eyes twinkled with grief and humor, "So, how many of your crew can see him?"
Law raised an eyebrow. "Just me," He said.
"Oh? Well, I'm sure that'll change. Took a while before we could see him too."
"He keeps insisting on teaching me to fight."
Rayleigh whistled, "Damn. Now there's an offer not to pass up."
"Was he really as good as he seems?"
"Who, Roronoa fucking Zoro? Kid, do you even know who's ghost you're carrying around?"
Law shook his head, "He hasn't told me a lot."
"No, no he wouldn't. He doesn't like talking about his life," Rayleigh leaned forward, serious, "Kid, that's the descendant of Shimotsuki fucking Ryuma. In his time, Zoro was the greatest swordsman in the world. Pioneer of the Santoryuu style, a three sword style that, to this day, has not been mastered by anyone else. Crack a fucking history book, kid, and you'll find mention of the 'Demon of the East'."
Law went pale.
Now there was a name that he'd heard.
"The Terror from Wano" was another one.
Or "The Three-Headed Demon".
One of the first bounties to reach over five hundred million beli.
The scourge of the marines in the fifteenth century.
He glared at the bone-white sword. "You've been holding out on me," He accused. Then scowled as a soft chuckle drifted into his ear. "Asshole."
"He's bashful," Rayleigh chuckled, "You can't imagine our surprise when Roger said he was being haunted by Roronoa fucking Zoro. Can you imagine? You pick up a sword, and suddenly you're meeting a legend."
Law could relate. He walked into a bar and now he's sharing a drink with the First Mate of the King of Pirates.
“Shusui,” He says suddenly, sitting up straight. Ray’s eyes softened.
“We never found it. Not a single trace,” The old pirate shook his head, “It's like it disappeared straight off the face of the planet. Never caught wind of it.”
“Shit.”
“Hey, don't stress yourself too hard over it,” Ray claps a hand on Law's shoulder. Hard. “Roronoa's been looking for that thing for over a century- and he'll keep looking. It doesn't have to be you, kid.”
Law shrugs the hand off his shoulder, then goes to stand up, straightening his hat. “Thanks anyways, Rayleigh-ya. This has been… Enlightening.”
Rayleigh returns the shrug, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Anytime, Trafalgar. Thanks for bringing him by. I do have something for you in return. You're looking for Joker, right?”
“How do you-” Rayleigh interrupts him with a wave and a chuckle.
“Don't worry yourself about it. You're not being obvious. I just know. Just thought I should let you know there's a slave auction in Grove 1 in a few hours that you might wanna check out.”
Law took a sharp breath at the implication. The old pirate had just given him a huge lead. He nodded at the Hearts, who were already getting up to leave. They'd have to hurry.
He rested his hand on the now-familiar hilt hanging in his hips.
So many questions. So little time.
Later. He'd talk to Zoro later.
For now, revenge.