Sunrises (Scopper Gaban x Reader)

Days Five, Six, and Seven

Day Five.

You spend most of the day sleeping, body and mind recuperating from the panic attack. The sun's dipped below the horizon by the time you wake, the last light of dusk fading out.

Much of the crew greets you as you pass by them on the deck. No one brings up the prior day, though a few do ask if you're feeling better, which you hastily assure is the case. The first thing you do is find Scopper, who beams once he catches sight of you.

"Hey there. Rest well?" He briefly touches your forearm, making your heart leap. Yesterday's moment rushes to the forefront of your mind, your hands tingling with the memory of holding Scopper's.

"Yes! All better now." You fidget a little, flustered at whatever it is that hangs between you two. You both know it's there, you both felt it the prior night. And while it's somewhat nerve-wracking, you can't stop smiling, either.

"Sorry I didn't wake you. Seemed like you needed it."

"You're right, I did. But that's okay. There're still two more sunrises left."

"Two more..." Scopper says glumly.

Up until then, you had only been eager to get back to the safety of the Marine outpost. But at the hint of dejection in Scopper's voice, you're struck by the fact that you'll probably never see him again. He sees the realization in your eyes and brightens up, though you can tell it's forced.

"Then we'd better make 'em count," Scopper says, taking your hand, "yeah?"

"Yeah!" You automatically squeeze his hand in response. Whatever it was growing between you, it couldn't go anywhere. But that didn't mean you couldn't savor it while it lasted.

What am I doing?

It was okay, you told yourself. This was all temporary, fleeting. Not something you had to analyze up and down. You could worry about it after you were back with the Marines and everything was over. For now, just live in the moment.

A pair of rapid footsteps approaching from behind you makes you quickly withdraw your hand. From the lightness of them, you instantly know it's the kids. You turn to face them, and they come screeching to a halt in front of you.

"Y/n!" Buggy shouts. "You're okay!"

"We thought you were dying!" Shanks yells. "When Taro told us it was a panic attack, I was surprised! It didn't look the same as I'd seen from–"

"Oi!" Scopper cuts him off, shooting him a warning look.

Shanks clams up, making Buggy point and laugh at him.

"Idiot!" Buggy jeers.

"You're the idiot!" Shanks snarls.

"What did you two want?" you interrupt before they can escalate. "Or did you just come to say hi to me?"

Both kids blush at the comment, firing off furious protests that contradict their earlier greetings. Scopper chuckles next to you, leaning in to whisper, "I think they like you. They normally take longer to warm up to new people."

"Okay, okay," you concede, raising a hand as if that would silence the two, "you didn't come to say hi. What, then?"

"Play with us!" they say in unison.

You hesitate. It would be one thing if that request came from normal children. You're not sure what kind of play is involved for ones raised by pirates, and the sword sheathed at Shanks' hip does not inspire confidence.

"Play, how?"

Buggy draws a pair of short daggers from his pants, brandishing them far too exuberantly for your liking. "Let's spar!"