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His body trembled from afar; they could see it. The dust stained his whole face, and they bet it left some scratches and got into his eyes. It must be aching as hell, oh God. His cheeks and lips dripping blood, originating from wounds and from inside him; the blood he vomited when being punched in his guts with such strength. It was an insufferable pain, ridiculously poisonous that burned their entire body, not as much as his, surely. They had tried to go down there and cease all this madness, but Zoro would not let them, as well as Sanji. It was a decision made by him, by Usopp. He was the one who challenged Luffy, he was the one who wanted this. He knew the risks he was taking by demanding such a thing.
And yet, the aching, excruciating pain in their heart would not get any better.
Their feet moved on their own slightly, as if even their subconscious wanted desperately to reach out to him, their feet, their fingertips, their arms, their heart.
— Don’t. — a deep voice echoes simply. They turned to its direction, tears lingering in the eye corners, and just escaped from his touch and useless calls. They heard some voices calling for them but could not figure out what they were saying.
He was a couple meters from them, prostrated, defenseless, humiliated. Their feet moved, one step at a time, tears rolling down their face as cascades of sadness and dread. The dust under their feet made a cracking sound due to the roughness of their uncertain steps, before flying away with the icing wind that blew their bodies.
The sounds did not go unnoticed by the sniper; they were too loud even for the voices that screamed relentlessly inside his brain, the ones that might have felt too real to brush away. He slowly moved his head to look at the source, grunting in pain, and had the rest of air inside is lungs knocked out by the sight. Usopp began to crawl away, slowly but certainly using all the strength he had left.
— Go away. — he coughed. — Leave me... — again, this time bringing a hand to wipe the blood that came out with it. He brought the other one out to try spreading dust in their direction, a useless attempt of pushing them away.
— Please, sweetheart... — their fingers lingered in the air, trying to reach the unreachable. They tingled in absence, withdrawal.
He quickly rolled on his body and sat unsteadily, bringing his slingshot out and pointing firmly at them, wincing in pain as he forced his briefly relaxed and broken body once more. They knew how the Impact Dial surely had cracked his radium or humerus. Hell, even his clavicle might have been dislocated.
His lips and chin trembled with the cold and adrenaline, moisturized by the blood and tears that ran down over his face that he tried to wipe with the arm that was closer to it; only smearing it over even more. They wish they could hold him and clean it all, run the sterilized cotton over and comfort him when the stinging from it made him wince in pain, hold him in their arms when they are finished with it and fall in a sweet slumber, hugging him firmly in their chest.
Stupid dreamer.
The ammunition he held in the slingshot leather looked like the explosive ones he had showed them before, when he was still working on them in his workshop. The ones he shot Luffy a couple minutes ago. His eyes seemed to beam with rage, seemed.
They knew him well, more than anyone else, too well. And that scared the shit out of him in that moment.
— GO. AWAY.
They swallowed sharply, bringing both their arms open, defenseless to him. Open arms to take whatever he had there; eyes fixated on his wide-open, surprised ones. Mouth slightly agape and stunned, he panicked more when they started taking steps again in the same pose. Was it a proof of love and trust or a challenge of how far he was willing to go with his own decision; of how sure he was of himself?
— I’m... I’m warning you... — a whisper they barely heard.
No answer was given, only the dust and merciless wind running around.
He pondered, giving them time to approach him and stop just a few feet away. He suddenly didn’t seem too desperate about that, too caught in thought. Even so, the aim never faltered, a point-blank shot.
— ...Shooting that right now wouldn't be smart, would it? — they whispered, sure that he heard it, but got no answer.
— ...I know what you want — he started, voice barely above a whisper. —, but I can’t go back anymore. I’ve already told you all the things I said there, we’ve talked about it. You even said you felt the same... — his voice faltered. They tried to reach out, but he firmed the slingshot, wincing in pain but not losing the train of thought. — If you really want to do me a favor, just, please, go away.
— That’s exactly why I’m here, dumbass! — widened eyes scanned them. — Both of us think so lowly about ourselves, but look so highly at each other, don’t you notice that? — their arms slowly fall back down by their sides — You should see yourself the way I see you, and I’ve been... I've been trying to do the same the other way around. — more and more tears run down their face. — Both of us are needed there, I... I need you there, please...
Seconds of thought felt like draining years out of them.
He put down the slingshot and they took the opportunity to-
— I’m sorry, love.
A wave of smoke filled their eyesight; it didn’t sting the eyes nor hurt the throat, a thoughtful little action so like him it gave them a little comfort in the middle of that hell. They blindly, uselessly called his name again and could briefly hear two or three worried voices from the crew calling them back.
Suddenly, a hand held their waist lovingly, bringing them close and capturing their lips in the middle of pure grey. The poking on their cheek bringing nostalgia even if it wasn’t long ago since the last time they’ve felt it. Their hands tangled in his curls and caressed his scalp in a loving manner, love. Love. That’s all that was for. They couldn’t handle being away from each other. Tears rolled down both their faces, hands holding the other’s body as if they were going to disappear as soon as the smoke dissipated. And maybe that’s exactly what was going to happen, they knew him. He knew them, he knew they knew. Both of them knew he was a coward.
The sight got a little clearer, and they could faintly see him reach out for his pocket, taking another smoke bomb and chuckled weakly, he wasn’t planning on kissing them. He just couldn’t resist. And is going to have to use another one to actually scape. That alone gave them a spark of hope.
One last kiss.
— Goodbye.
And the bomb went off again.
— See you later, Usopp.