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We are the Stuff of Broken Dreams
Piece by Shard by Bit b-- (whole.)
[Drabble] Routine 
28th-Aug-2011 11:47 pm
Released Caged Bird
Title: Routine
Rating: K
Media: Fanfiction; drabble 
Genre: Angst, gen
Pairing/Characters: Luffy, the Strawhats
Word Count: 300
Warnings: Hints at character death.
Prompt: Mental Illness
Notes: Originally posted in the onepiece_300 comm here.

Summary: They all knew that Luffy was a nut-case. It was partly why they had such faith in him. After all, the Grand Line’s general rule-of-thumb appeared to be: Be crazy. It works.  


The future Pirate King’s ship was never quiet after breakfast.

Having been punted out by Sanji, the crew dispersed for the morning about the Thousand Sunny. Luffy settled into his spot, babbling animatedly to his usual audience. His lively chatter had long since become a part of their mornings.

“— it’s not fair for Sanji to kick! Not that it hurt—”

Sanji stuck his head out of the galley, screaming in indignance about missing steak.



Luffy gesticulated in dismay to the only person bothering to pay any attention. It wasn’t long before he was side-tracked, and the chatter continued until Sanji’s call signalled for lunch.

Luffy! LUNCH!” There was an expectant pause.

“Can Ace come?”

As usual, in the split second that followed—Zoro tightened his grip on Wadō — Nami’s glance shifted towards her mikan trees — Usopp’s fingers brushed against his pouch — Sanji returned to the galley, an extra plate already in hand — Chopper straightened his hat and beamed — Franky patted one of Sunny’s rails fondly — and Brook clutched his violin tightly in a skeletal embrace.

It was Robin who broke the brief spell this time.

“Of course he can. You’ll join us, won’t you, Ace-san?” she smiled, giving Luffy a light shove towards the galley.

Luffy grinned at the invisible presence to his left and, shouting “RACE YOU THERE!”, broke into a sprint.

The Strawhats, laughing and grumbling, followed their captain, waiting to catch him the second he showed any sign of tripping over thin air like the idiot he was.


It had been eight months, seventeen days, thirteen hours and counting since the Marineford incident, but the wait was inconsequential.

There was space enough on-board for another loss.

Another recovery (acceptance).


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