Darling Typhoon [One Piece Law x Luffy]

20. Sworn

Ah, Law realized.

This is what it feels like to be mortal.

Often times, he never understood people who commended him for his precocity—praised him for his intelligence at such a young age, even envied him for his early talent.

He was only good at cutting people open, rearranging them, then sewing them shut. What was there to be envious of?

It was only now, as Law lay on his slide, slumped against a hardwood floor, a foot hovering above him, that he finally understood.

Ah, he thought again, his tongue tasting iron. This is what it feels like....to be aging.

Often, there was a disconnect between time and a biological clock. Sometimes, they synced with startling accuracy—other times, this disconnect was so grave...you completely lost track of who you were.

Law knew firmly that he was 27—knew that he had a driver's license, knew that legally, he could drink alcohol—knew that typically around this age range—he was expected to act and conduct himself with etiquette. He must follow the protocol and social graces of a mature adult.

Yet as he sat there, slumped on the cold, stone floor—he suddenly felt that his brain—that his internal clock, had been detached from himself. From time. No....it had been detached from any reference whatsoever.

He was biologically 27—the clock continued to tick, and tok, and tik, and tok—but in this moment of fear....In this moment of trepidation that swelled in his throat, like vomit that he struggled to wretch up—

Law felt like he had returned to the time when he was 10 years old. He felt like his biological clock, which marched forward with time, had completely forgotten to take his brain with it. His psyche, left behind as time pushed him forwards—told him: You are an adult now! Go on, and continue to go on, until you don't. But his mind, his voice, even his hearing, and his vision, and the taste of iron in his mouth—it tasted just like it did 17 years ago, when he had been in that Red Room with Doflamingo.

"Agh!"

The heel of someone's foot dug into his back again, careful to avoid his spine. Instead it dug into his ribs, so hard he could feel it penetrate the gap between the bone and sensitive organs.

"—the situation?"

Another stab.

"Urgh!"

Law coughed up a bit of blood. His lips curled minutely—his hands were being crushed by his own weight, so he couldn't wipe away the stains that spotted his lips. Vergo was so set on beating him to a pulp, he was going to make Law go deaf before he could hear what the man had to say.

"—waste."

A hand yanked his hair, pulling his head backwards. Vergo was looking down at him, with his lips in a thin, straight line. The man's face was cool, as if he hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Is he not hearing me?"

Law's lips curved upwards again. His head fell back down with a—.

Thud.

Just like that, it seemed time started moving forward again. Hearing returned to him slowly—there was music playing, so loud it drowned out the sound of blood rushing to his head.

The night we met I knew I, needed you so

"—prepare the itinerary?"

And if I had the chance I'd, never let you go