Captivity

01 - Game

"Take this to the Commodore."

"Yes, sir."

The brown-haired marine scrambled outside the office, making some smoke dance in the room. With a sigh, he opened the window and waited, fingers interlaced under his chin. The two still lit cigars were drawing lines of white smoke that curled high in the ceiling and dispersed with the welcomed wind of the humid afternoon.

The Rear Admiral could feel his haki. By then, he could even miles away. Useless denying it. Sure, at first, he had hated dearly the happy-go-lucky boy and his antics. Pranks in the bases he visited, pranks against his own crew members, messes in bars and restaurants because he doesn't pay what he eats. He could go on and on and on. He was more like a pirate than a marine, sometimes. Smoker had really hated him for a long time... Long, unforgettable years. But...

How could he hate someone that made people hate him? Strange, indeed. Smoker had discovered it years after knowing the boy, that, at that time, had been under Garp's wing and training. The then Captain had wondered how on earth could a boy like that endure it, but, with the growing hate, Smoker had let the subject go away from his mind with a hissing 'he deserves it'. Useless, because the boy was a bundle of endless energy, even if he was being trained by a demon.

It had happened on the field. Smoker had been barking orders while fighting off some rookies when Luffy had made his appearance. The cocky grin, the glinting dark eyes, the amused expression. It had been the same he remembered, the same Smoker had always hated, but different at the same time. Feral, hungry and unstoppable. Desire to fight and destroy and win. As if he had discarded the mask of a prankster boy and wore the one of a fierce fighter. Of a merciless marine.

And then, when the pirates were all dealt with, the mask was already back and the cheeky brat was messing with him again, making messes and pranks. Endearing and utterly annoying. But, after that, Smoker had deemed the boy worth a chance.

Smoker had baited Luffy.

It had worked.

Well, not exactly.

Luffy had seen through it. And made Smoker think he had fallen for it.

The scoundrel.

The door barged open and he held high a hand to stop the expected hug. However, he hadn't seen Luffy circle the desk and tackle him from the back. They ended up sprawled on the floor, with Luffy laughing loudly on his back and Smoker huffing and groaning.

"Smokey!"

"Shut. Up."

"Awwww, you're so gloomy!"

"Piss off."

Smoker ignored the continuous chuckles and stood up, making the other slid to the floor and looking around. Documents, previously neatly disposed on his desk, were scattered on the floor. His paperwork... His beloved, already signed and checked reports...

A vein ticked on his forehead. He closed his eyes, massaging his temples, and took a deep, smoky, calming breath. Burnt. What was burning? His cigars, obviously. Two. No, wait, he had only one between his lips...

Shit.

Smoker opened his eyes and looked at the small fire erupted on his documents. Before he could react, a splash of water was on the flames, that died. The empty vase of flowers, courtesy of Tashigi, was held high on the wet cigar and black papers. The hand gripping the white porcelain put it on the near desk and the boy stood, grinning cockily at him. Black messy hair, a bit longer than the usual, were framing equally dark, glinting eyes. His grin stretched, Smoker knew what was coming next...