Chapter Text
The man that smacks his forehead against the doorway trying to enter Makino's bar is odd. He's all blonde, wavy hair and bandages, wrapped tight around every inch of uncovered skin. The boy with him might be stranger.
He's glaring at everyone and everything, for starters. The fluffy hat snug on his head nearly covers his dark, golden eyes. His face looks too haggard for his age, and Makino swears there are light patches on his skin just barely visible in the sinking sunlight coming through the windows.
“Hello, miss. I'm Roci, lovely to meet you. We're looking for a room? A local pointed us in this direction.”
Makino shoves away her suspicions, privately glad Shanks isn't at the bar at the moment. The giant of a man looks paranoid, eyes glancing behind him constantly like he’s waiting for a threat to be at his back. The boy looks murderous. Shanks’... everything would probably cause an incident.
She forces on her customer voice and tries to remember the last time Party Bar’s poor excuse of a guest room got dusted. “Of course! Twenty-five berri a night, how long will you be here?” Roci, the giant, slouches in relief at the number.
“Ah, we should only need the room for a week.”
Makino does not let herself wince, even knowing that Shanks will almost certainly come around during that time. Luffy, too.
“Got it.” She accepts the payment, pleased to see it all up front with no complaints. The pistol under the counter stays where it is for another day. “Hm, pardon my rudeness, but do you need a doctor? Madam Wenley, three houses down, is plenty skilled, and we take care of our own in Foosha.”
The tiny boy bundled in Roci's arms turns to speak to her.
“I've already treated us both. This idiot just needs time for his injuries to heal enough that I can remove the stitches.'' He stares at her like he's begging her to challenge them, to ask why such a beat up pair are here in their sleepy village or why the boy barely three feet tall is the one treating their injuries.
She’d learned to stop asking questions about patrons years ago when the Red Force first came to their shores.
“Alright. I'll let you get settled in!” She gestures to the stairwell, which Roci disappears into quickly, though Makino swears she hears a quiet thud and grumbled curses.
Despite everything, when Shanks and his crew strut into her bar an hour later and ask for their usuals, Makino relaxes. Shanks would never hurt her, and would never let her be hurt.
Once drinks are out, the bar is too loud for her anxious thoughts to keep torturing her. “Anything new goin’ on with you, gorgeous?” Shanks flirts shamelessly. Benn Beckman pointedly lights a cigar.
“Actually, a pair just rented the room above the bar. Odd man with a weirder… son? I think? But they seem nice enough. Don't know why, but they were both heavily bandaged, and the little boy was the one who said he’d fixed them up.”
Shanks’ gaze goes steely, turning from the man who begged Makino for drinks after Benn had cut him off to the Emperor feared across the blues.
“I'll make sure they won't be any trouble for you.”
“Who won't be trouble?” A new, high voice asks. The boy from earlier comes down the stairs, breathing sharply like that short distance has tired him. He comes to sit near them on a barstool.
Hateful eyes meet them both.
“Don't worry about it, he's just protective of me. It's quite rare we see visitors like you in our ports.”
“Be suspicious all you want. But go after Cora-san and I'll make you wish you weren't born.”
Shanks nearly laughs. His crew, too. But the glaring energy raging from this boy pings on all their haki and stops them. This kid had at least some power that wasn’t a bluff.
He makes real eye contact with the kid, then. “Noted. What's your name, kid?”
Makino busies herself scrubbing glasses, half because the Red-Haired pirates could drink like no others and her basin was overflowing, and half so she can sneakily listen in.
“Law. I know who you are.”
Shanks just grins. Powerful or not, he wasn't going to be bullied by a child.
“Most people do.” Law glares at him harder, moving one hand to the pocket of his shorts.
Their staring contest is interrupted by a panicked voice up above.
“Law? Law! Law, where are you? Are you okay? Why’d - Oh holy fucking shit, that’s Red-Haired Shanks.” The blonde that appears from the stairs calms down visibly the second he sees Law's fuzzy hat, only to tense right back up when he sees Shanks on the random ass backwater island that should have been invisible to any big players of either side.
Law hops off his seat and attaches himself firmly to Roci's side. It’s kind of adorable, Makino can’t help thinking. The boy was clearly jaded and seemed to be filled with hatred towards most of the world, but he was very nearly soft to Roci. She wishes she had remembered to ask if they were actually father and son, because there’s certainly no physical similarity.
On the side Shanks looks to Benn, who had perked up at the newcomer. He was seeing what Shanks was, too.
“What was your name again, sir?” he asks calmly, easily, projecting nonchalance.
“Roci will do fine.” Roci forces himself to keep his hands slack, not tensing up the one idly running against the material of Law's hat while he lifts them both into a seat with a grunt of pain.
“There a last name attached to that? Ya look an awful damn lot like a man we've had the displeasure of knowing, and I can't help but remember him having a brother." Benn snubs his cigar and moves to press his shoulder against Shanks’. It's not a threat yet, but the look in his eyes says it could become one.
Law's tiny hand clenches in the fabric of his pants. Roci takes an even breath.
Lying would just be a waste and an insult to these mens’ intelligence.
A pause, before he speaks, just to organize his words how he wants. “Blood relation does not make loyalty. I have made my choices and I have no desire to associate with my brother. I could go the rest of my life never hearing about him again and I’d lose no sleep.” Deep down, Roci's soul screams in agony at how much he means his words in a way he couldn’t half a year ago. His bullet wounds hurt worse.
Law watches in amazement as the bubbling tension evaporates.
“Well if that's the case, then no issues here. Makino, dear, another round for all of us, Roci included!”
Law flips him off from his perch on Roci’s knee. “Absolutely not. Cora-san is still injured, he shouldn't drink for another several weeks at least .”
Roci lifts him up higher and leans him against his side. Shanks half expects him to get bitten for his actions, but it seems the shunned Donquixote brother is immune to Law's feral behavior.
Oh seas.
Would he and Luffy get along?
“Law, don't just flip people off for no reason. And besides, I'll only have the one. It's rude to refuse a gift.”
“Wh- I pulled multiple bullets out of your liver! Do you want organ failure?” Law’s protests die under loud laughter.
Makino starts stacking up shot glasses on her trusty tray, struggling to fit enough drinks for everyone.
“I've got the rest.” Law deftly grabs a spare tray and arranges the drinks she can't hold onto his own. She hadn't even seen him come behind the bar. “Cora-san said to help when we can as thanks for the room. Did you know you have slight scoliosis? It's likely causing you joint pain, particularly your right side.”
She straightens up in surprise.
Roci face-palms, but gratefully accepts his drink when she passes by. “Law, people think it's creepy when you point out their medical issues.”
“Oh, it's not actually creepy. I didn't know that, but my knee has been killing me these past few years especially.”
“You're likely spending more time on your feet than average people do with customers like this around, which may be making your condition worse.”
She files the information away, maybe a tidbit to bring up to Wenley next time she has a check up. How he could so easily figure out her issue from a distance, Makino has no clue.
Then Law pads down the stairs two hours past closing, when the last Red-Haired pirates have finally gone and she is left alone with the washing. He settles beside her and grabs the drying rag from her idle hands.
“I could- I could fix your spine. I have a devil fruit power that allows me to do operations that shouldn't be possible.”
The news is surprising. For most of her adult life, a beating ache in her hips has persisted and mostly faded into background noise in her busy life. The idea of her pains going away? It's hard to imagine.
Dangerous hope comes into her heart. “May I see a demonstration before I sign up for a mystery surgery?”
Law shrugs. “Sure, I'll use Cora-san. Come up with me.” He doesn’t look behind to see if she follows him, just trots up the stairs in near-silent steps.
Roci is half asleep in the bed, feet poking over the edge when Law pulls him to his feet before he can protest. Law grabs the sword meant for a man twice his size, meaning it dwarfs him, and summons a Room around them.
With a precise slice, Roci's torso is floating away from his legs. Makino gasps in horror.
“I can separate bodies without pain or death. I can isolate organs and bones to remove, which is what I would do to you. Cora-san, turn around please.”
He obliges, shivering at the sensation when Law splits his torso again down the middle and isolates his spine. To himself, he laughs at how messed up and hunched it is.
“Are you comfortable with me doing this?” Law asks, genuinely. He wants to help her, to make her life a bit easier, and selfishly wants to prove to himself that he is capable of good. That he deserves to have the second chance at life Cora-san has given him.
“I- I'd like a day to think about it, please. It's late.”
“Of course.” Law snaps Roci back together and drops his Room. He slumps forwards a bit, easily caught by Roci's large hand.
Roci hurries to calm Makino, who looks mildly sick from everything of the last minute. “His fruit eats his stamina for breakfast. Take all the time to think it over you need, but know that Law is the best surgeon I've ever known. You'd be in good hands.”
In the end, the allure wins out and she agrees the next afternoon.
She hangs up the bar’s little closed sign and leads them both to her own bare-bones room, getting comfortable on the bed.
“I will keep talking to you throughout the operation and Cora-san will be right beside you. Are you ready?”
Shyly, she nods. She takes Roci’s hand, clutching it tightly. Despite the assurances from them both, she expects pain when the cool blue bubble slides around them all.
“Room. Scan.” He looks at the glinting reflection on his oversized sword for a bit, and then in a flash of that same sword Makino’s torso is separated from her and floating in the air. It severs again, down the middle, and her spine is pulled into view in a way that makes her grip poor Roci even harder.
“See the sway in the bone?” Law motions to the curve. “It's pushing extra pressure onto one side of your body. I'm going to realign it, then adjust your ribs and hips as necessary to accommodate the change.” He proceeds doing just what he describes, gently pushing the segments of her spine into place and reinserting it in her body, narrating all throughout. With shifts along the way to assure her body won't reject the change, the operation concludes. Law drops the room and sits down at Roci’s side.
When Makino gets the all clear to stand up, the lack of any twinges of pain shocks a gasp out of her.
“I'll still have you remain seated for at least half your working hours for the first month, to make sure it stays fixed,” Law half-mumbles, fighting to keep his eyes open. No part of him is used to the bone-deep exhaustion his power causes.
For the first time, Makino fully sees the little boy behind the hurt soul and she understands how unbelievably kind he can be. She thanks him profusely and promises to follow his orders for recovery.
The next day, Makino is surprised to see Shanks again so soon, and more surprised by his guest.
“Mihawk! It's so lovely to see you again, it's been too long,” she greets from her Law-mandated stool.
Law and Roci, sitting at the bar eating lunch, both drop their jaws. Even Flevance had known to fear the Marine Hunter. They're the only other customers, so their full attention is on the newcomers.
“I swear, what is it about this island that attracts insanely powerful men?” Roci asks, aiming for a light and joking tone. Shanks laughs, but the man who is sharp in every manner by his side remains stoic. His predatory eyes study Roci.
“You would be included in that count too, Donquixote Rocinante.” Mihawk says, staring him down. It's not an accusation, it's a statement.
“It's just Roci these days. And while I'm flattered, any reports of me being powerful are somewhere between nepotism and good acting. Think of this as my retirement.”
Somehow, he's said something right. Mihawk seems to truly see him now, swirling the wine glass Makino places in his hand. Honestly, where did Makino even find wine that fancy? Roci had seen the label while she poured.
“Shanks, I unfortunately see your disgusting ‘kicked puppy’ expression. What is it?”
Shanks pouts, even as Makino brings him his drink.
“You didn’t warm up to me nearly that fast, Hawkeyes, a guy’s gonna get jealous!”
Mihawk levels a bored look at him. “I assure you, no one can annoy me quite to the level that you can. Your throne remains unchallenged. Would you care for a drink, Roci?” Mihawk offers.
Law groans loudly. “ Why do you all keep offering him drinks? Bullet holes! Liver!” He hops down from the stool and stomps upstairs in defeat. With how tame Law has been by Roci’s standards since they got to Dawn Island, he's not surprised that he’s taking off for some alone time.
Quietly, selfishly, Roci sings with joy seeing Law act so lively. The last weeks of their time on the run were the scariest, when Law was so drained by Amber Lead that he could hardly move, much less keep up his snark.
If nothing else, Dawn Island has been endlessly good for them.