Until My Name Reaches Heaven!

⑦ 𝓐 𝓕𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼

Trafalgar Law is a troublesome man, he enjoys irking people and getting away with it, until he came across [Y/N].

"𝓣-hat girl, do you know her name?"

"Only her last name, Mina...Mina–something-something."

"Just how fucked is your memory?"

"Shut it pirate, why does the Trafalgar Law ask about a random girl?"

"Is curiosity a sin now?"

-

"The swell should go down in about a week—that's if you're good at taking care of it," Hans says as he walks around his office. He takes out a bottle of foaming soap and applies some on [Y/N]'s arm, cleaning her tattoo as the final touch of his perfect work, he grins proudly.

"You clean it with this soap, then you dry it well and apply this," he scoops some petroleum jelly with his index, then applies it on my skin. "Spread it out like this," his finger glides the jelly until it's a thin layer, "and makes sure it covers the whole thing," he says as he gently pats around the edges.

She nods along to his words, "yes, sir."

"Let it breathe, don't wrap it, and if you do then make sure it's loose. Wash it nicely, no scrubbing, no harsh contact on it—or else you'll mess up and cause irritation." His eyes search for any source of carelessness in [Y/N]'s face, but he finds none, so he smiles.

The two exchange a few more words while Hans packs the products for [Y/N], when she isn't looking—he throws in extra stuff for facial and hair routines.

"So where do you plan to go after leaving Loguetown?" Hans suddenly asks.

"Boss said we're going to Alabasta," [Y/N] mutters as she eyes the stocked shelves.

"Alabasta huh...I wonder how it is in that desert." He shakes his head in thoughtfulness. "Crocodile is worshiped by the citizens, I heard."

"Like I'd know anything, I've just set foot in the sea," [Y/N] murmurs; she stretches her arms behind her, groaning in satisfaction as her back cracks loudly. "By the way, I saw what you put in there." She cracks him a grin.

Hans stiffens before he sighs and chuckles.

The rain was no more, the sky was still covered in little clouds, but soon they began to dissipate along the harsh wind.

[Y/N] hums as she walks out of the shop, freshly inked skin breathing the cool air with her. The bag in her hand swung a bit with her movement, her gaze falling on all kinds of sights as she strolled the streets.

Thieves getting chased by citizens, navy patrolling, kids blocking the way from playing soccer, pirates causing a scene in a bar, young women slapping old men with their bags because they were being hit on, and many more that she couldn't bother looking twice at. But, something that made her head turn for a second time was Trafalgar Law; he sat on a stool outside of a restaurant, a leg over the other, his hands intertwined behind his head as he unabashedly let his gaze follow [Y/N]. She halts, taking note of the black, short sleeve dress up shirt that was unbuttoned—revealing his chest tattoo.

Law leans over to rest his elbows on his knees, a raised brow and a toothy smirk on his face. His smirk stretches into a grin when [Y/N] changes directions, she finds herself standing before him.

"What do you want?" [Y/N] asks, her tone calm and disinterested in whatever this conversation might lead to.

"Am I not allowed to look at the street?" Law straightens his back, leaning against the backrest.