18 September. Three nights since Kid and Law came back, beat up half to death. It's been the same routine since them. They leave late at night, around 9. Every morning they come back around 4, with no explanation as to where those wounds come from. They don't know it, but it's stressing you out.
You thought, at first, it was some kind of rivalry, since Heat, Wire, Killer, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin had just as many injuries (more, really, but that's beside the point). But you realise quickly that, although they still hate each other for some arbitrary reason, it's like they've found a common enemy. An enemy of an enemy is an ally, you suppose.
Last night, you tried following them, but you were quickly found out.
The last class of the day finally ends, and you slowly make your way back to your room and nearly collapse on Law's bed that's just underneath yours, but you're able to move up to the top and rest there.
It takes a good hour of your day for you to finally convince yourself to get up. You're exhausted mentally. Your brain isn't used to staying up for all those extra hours worrying about your friends. But you push it aside as you force your body, tired from your mental fatigue, to the workshop building where Kid tends to bid his time to.
He's alone in one of the welding rooms, piecing together what looks like one of metal creatures. You watch him finish off the piece and set it aside, raise his goggles, and sigh heavily.
"You've been here a lot lately, in your spare time," you speak up. "What have you been fighting so much recently?"
He sighs again. "Stuff. Did you need anything?"
You nod. "I was gonna see if you could help me with this project thing, but you seem kinda busy." You're not lying, you really do have a project you've been working on. But maybe some ulterior motives bring you to this?
"Oh. I'm not really, what's the project?"
"Ah, don't worry about it. I think you should get some rest, I'll ask someone else to help me. I could ask Sabo and Ace, or I could see if Drake could help," you say, looking up as if in thought. That one's a lie. Sabo's people smart, Ace is... Anyway, you haven't been able to contact Drake since he left.
Kid clicked his tongue out of annoyance. "No, I'll help. What is it?"
"I mean, seriously, I don't need your help. You look tired." He opens his mouth to make some remark, but you talk first. "But," you say, "if you tell me where you've been going, then I'll let you help me with it."
"What? That's a shitty deal."
You shrug and spin around, twisting the handle to the door. "Alright."
"Fine! But you can't do anything about it."
You stop and smile, turning to face the redhead. "Alright. Just tell me."
"The Grand Line."
It takes a few moments for you to respond. "You're... you're kidding right?" He's not kidding. "No wonder! Why?"
"That's a question I don't have to answer," he says.
"But... Okay, fine. Could you tell me why you can't not go?"
"That, giorra," he says, a familiar smirk returning to his lips for the first time in a few days, "is not information I'm required to give you."
You look up at him. "Please?"
"Nope, now c'mon. Tell me about this mystery project."
You force yourself to clear other thoughts from your mind. "Well, I know I'm not that strong," you start. "So, I've been thinking about some weapons that'd help me. I know you like weapons and stuff, so I figured you'd be able to help a little?"
He nods. "Probably. Got any ideas yet?"
"Kind of. I have a few ideas, but I just don't know what weapon I wanna use. I don't know what I'd be good with."
Kid thinks for a second. "Maybe go with small weapons. Maybe a pistol or two, throwing knives, instant inject-poisons," he suggests.
A smile captures your face. "That sounds really cool, actually!"
For a split second, he mirrors the smile before ridding of it quickly. "That's good. How about after the tournaments, I can help you with stuff like that."
"Really? That'd be great!" you say. "Though, I still think you should tell me why you have to go to the Grand Line, not to mention how you even get there."
He sighs. "I have to go because if I don't, I'll probably---no, definitely be expelled."
"Oh... wanna tell me why?"
"Nope. We should get food, I'm hungry."
"Yeah, me too. Let's go."
You let Kid clean up his stuff and put his works in his backpack before heading out towards the cafeteria.
"Are you going to be able to get some good sleep before the tournament?"
He nods. "Yup, I don't have to go tomorrow night and then on until the night of the 6th," he says, sounding relieved.
"Are there ever gonna be nights you don't have to go after that?"
"Maybe. I also don't know how long I have to go, so that's something."
You bite your lip. "What if you die?"
He snorts. "I'm not gonna die from the first part of the Grand Line."
"You'll die of exhaustion!"
"I will not."
"Will too."
"Will not."
"Most definitely will."
"Most definitely will not. Can you even die of exhaustion?"
"I mean, maybe?" you say. "What're they serving for dinner today?"
He sighs. "Dunno. Hopefully something good, or else I'm just grabbing a piece of pizza."
"You're like Law," you vaguely comment.
He stops for a second. "What?"
You pause as well, turning to face him. "You're sighing a lot. Like Law."
"I am not like Law," he says, continuing on into the cafeteria. You follow after him.
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are to---"
"Nope, not going through that again," he interupts. You chuckle.
"That's fair."
You grab a sandwich and Kid settles for pizza, despite him probably have eating it for the past week.
"Kid," you say. "I know you probably don't want to, but you should properly heal up. You were limping a tad."
He freezes. "I was?"
"Yeah, did you get hurt in the leg?"
"Stabbed in the calf."
You nearly spit your water out, but you quickly swallow. "What? Kid, you can't just... that's bad!"
"Apparently---I didn't even know I was limping. How'd you tell?"
"You were a tad unbalanced. But that's beside the point, Kid you need to tell Mr. Doflamingo or whoever that you can't keep going."
"But I can."
"No, you can't."
"But I---"
"Nope. Not going through this again," you quote. "But really, just get Law or someone to briefly treat it. Okay, I take back my words, not Law, I know you don't like him. Maybe Sabo or someone, you know he's pretty good at healing magic. Maybe he can just heal it up?"
He thinks for a second. "Fine."
"We should go after we finish eating," you comment. "So you have time to rest afterwards, apparently healing by magic can be pretty draining."
He holds back a sigh. "You care too much."
"No such thing."
"There is, and you're the literal definition of it."
"Thanks, now hurry up and eat so we can get to Sabo's."
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Me? Update? Who am I pft