Categories > Anime/Manga > One Piece > The Life I Live

One Man's Fantasy is Another's Agony

by I-Dont-Like-I-Obsess 0 reviews

Summer is plagued with nightmares.

Category: One Piece - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Humor,Romance - Published: 2019-10-13 - 1848 words - Complete

The smell of smoke surrounded her. She refused to open her eyes, horrified by what she may find. She crouched on the ground and covered her eyes with her hands.

"Go away…" She sobbed weakly. Her voice shook with emotion, and the tears slipped past her scrunched hands. Crying and screaming could be heard in the distance. Even if she plugged her ears, the noise wouldn't leave her.

A hand clamped over her shoulder with a near-bruising grip. She sobbed harder, afraid of the voice that she knew would be coming.

"Look around, love." When she didn't remove her hands from her eyes, the hand on her shoulder lifted and her arms were forced from her face. Her eyes opened of their own volition, and she wanted nothing more than to tear them out of her sockets.

The village. The flames. The smoke. The bodies.

It was all too much.

"Why?" She shouted, speaking to the man that now held her back. Her body quivered with barely restrained anger and desperation. She had to escape from him. Hell, she would have cut off her own arms if she had to.

Summer felt him chuckled darkly behind her, and his hands tightened their hold on her arms. She squinted through the pain, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. They dripped softly to the scorched ground below.

"It is what you are. You cannot change that. Why do you refuse to accept the fact that you are a monster, destined to destroy the world as you know it?"

"I am /not /a monster!" She growled, trying in vain to wrench her arms free. He laughed again, a disgusting sound, and began pushing her forwards towards the harbor.

"Shall we take a little trip then?" Her feet moved without her telling them to, and she had no choice but to be shoved down the main street. Her gaze was directed at the dirt. She couldn't bear to look at her handiwork.

His hand forced her chin up to the buildings around her. "Everything you see is your fault. It was done by your hands, your conscience." Her eyes were forced to take in the ruined town, the scattered bodies, the empty faces of those she had gotten close to. Building after building passed until they reached the boat docks. There, the pile of bodies waited for them.

Mr. Porter and his family. The little boy that played with her sometimes after he got out of church. The baker's wife, who would sneak Summer free loaves of bread when her husband wasn't looking. They all stared at her.

"Accept what you are, what you were made to do. God gave you a gift." He remarked, but she shook her head adamantly.

"Stop this!" She shouted closing her eyes again, and the hands holding her arms vanished. She was free to move once again, and she opened her eyes timidly.

Mr. Porter stood in front of her with his wife and children. She took a step back, noticing their blank, white eyes. They didn't move towards her.

"You killed us." He said, pointing an accusatory dead finger in her direction. "You lied, and you killed us."

"No! I didn't want this to happen! No!" Surrounding them was pure darkness, as thick as blood. Summer could feel it pressing her down, and all she could see were the figures of the deceased townspeople. The wife wore a blank face as she spoke.

"You stole my childrens' futures away from them. They will no longer feel happiness. They will never get to live. All because of you." The children remained silent. The tears renewed their flow and Summer covered her ears again.

"Stop it! I'm sorry! Please, stop!" They all pointed at her and stared. Just stared in silence. Somehow, this was worse than before.

She fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably as she rocked back and forth. "I-I never meant for this to happen! Please, leave me alone! I'm sorry!" She shouted.

"/Lies!" /They yelled in unison at a deafening volume, and she collapsed to the ground in shock.

"No!" She yelled, bolting upright in her bed. A cold sweat stuck her hair to her forehead at odd angles. Her heavy breathing was the only sound in her dark room. Listening closely, it didn't sound as if her screaming had woken anyone up. She rubbed her face in agitation and relief.

'It was just a dream...'

She took a deep breath to calm her rapid heartbeat, repeating her mantra in her head until she could think rationally.

She was not in the village. She was aboard Trafalgar Law's submarine with the Heart Pirates. Viper was not here. Mr. Porter and his family were not here, come back to haunt her from the dead. Slowly, after much self-convincing, she relaxed somewhat.

Involuntarily, her arms wrapped around herself to protect her from some unknown entity. As if Viper's very image in her head would come and take her away. A shuddering breath escaped her.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was 2:00 in the morning, and she still had to help with breakfast in the morning. Forcing herself to lie down again, she willed her eyes to shut and her muscles to loosen.

"Dammit…" She muttered, preparing herself for the long night ahead of her.


Law cracked open an eye at the distant voice that permeated his brain through the fog of sleep. Rubbing away the drowsiness, he propped himself up on one elbow and listened intently. Glancing at the clock, it was only 1:54 A.M. Cursing under his breath, he ran a hand through his hair.

Of all nights, something had to happen on one of the rare nights he actually fell asleep.

"Shit…" He muttered, but silenced when he heard the voice again.

It was Summer, made obvious by the feminine quality to the whimpers that carried quietly down the hall to his room. They weren't necessarily loud, but somehow she had woken him up.

Sitting fully up from bed, he resorted to listening for a moment. He knew there was no outside threat, so he concluded she must be having a nightmare.

"Stop this!" He frowned at the pain and fear in her voice and reluctantly swung his legs over the side of the bed. It wasn't that he was worried...He just didn't want her injuring herself again. It was troublesome. At least, that's what he told himself.

He begrudgingly made his way out the door and down the short distance of hallway that seperated his room and hers. He didn't enter, but leaned against the wall next to her door. From outside, he could hear her tossing and turning on the bed. Whatever this nightmare was of, it obviously left the girl severely distraught.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry…" She repeated through her strangled sobs. It was a wonder no one else had woken up. No one came out into the hall asking what was wrong, though.

"No!" She shouted, and Law could tell from the sudden clarity to her voice that she had woken up. Her labored breathing filled the room behind the wall.

Law stood there a moment, just listening to her distress. Usually, such a sound he found amusing, entertaining even. But for whatever reason he found no satisfaction in her fear-filled cries. He frowned, not wanting to think about it anymore. He padded his way back to his room, his bare feet making no sound on the metal floors.

"Dammit.." He cursed under his breath so low she wouldn't have heard it, unaware that behind her door, Summer was doing the same.

"Shachi-kun…" Summer said, pouting provocatively with a finger to her cheek. Shachi's eyes bulged out of his head, noting the shorter-than-short skirt and low-neckline blouse she wore. His cheeks reddened profusely. She crawled agonizingly slow, in Shachi's opinion, over to him. Her all-fours position gave him a clear view of her barely-covered cleavage.

"U-um...S-Summer-chan...are you sure about this?" He asked, not wanting to take advantage of her. She frowned slightly, looking away from him.

" you not like me?" She questioned, hurt evident in her voice. He waved his hands in front of him.

"Of course not! I-I just wanted to make sure…" She smiled again, crawling ever closer to him.

"Then...won't you kiss me?" She asked. His eyes became stars and he unconsciously started to drool. He held his arms out to her and held her in an embrace, his face nearing hers.

Penguin was woken up from his slumber by an arm whacking him across the face.

"Ah! What the hell?" He looked above him, to the upper bunk where his friend slept, and noted the arm dangling off the side. Glaring sleepily, Penguin pushed out of bed with a huff and reached up to hit his friend's head with his fist.

"Ah!" He yelled, startled awake. "What was that for?" He rubbed his eyes, drool still dripping from the corner of his mouth. A blush registered faintly on his cheeks, and Penguin noticed it through the darkness of the room. His eyes narrowed.

"What were you dreaming about, baka?" Shachi moaned with his face in his pillow.

"Penguin! It was the perfect dream! But you woke me up before it ended! Now I'll never get to know-!" He cut himself, realizing what he was saying.

"Never get to know what?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest. Shachi rubbed the back of his head, flustered by what he almost admitted.

"N-nothing! Nothing a-at all! Just go back to sleep."

"Hmm…" Penguin didn't seem convinced but climbed back into bed anyway. The two men were quiet after that, contimplating their own thoughts.

Law, meanwhile, lay awake in bed. He found himself unable to fall back asleep after being initially woken up, much to his irritation. Though, what irked him most was that it wasn't his raging insomnia, or even one of his medical books that kept him up.

It was her.

Her face kept appearing in his mind, smiling sweetly or scowling in anger. An image of her covered in the enemy's blood, holding her two daggers with a twisted grin on her face flashed through his mind. He shook his head violently.

"Stop." He told himself quietly. This needed to stop. It was getting ridiculous.

Unbidden, her face popped up again in his head, and he sat up in anger. Rubbing his face with both hands, he sighed deeply. This had never happened before with any of the women that had kept him company for one night flings on islands along the grand line. He had felt nothing for those women. She was no more physically appealing than them, nor would he call her his type. So why was she so different?

These strange feelings were foreign to him, and not knowing exactly what they were frustrated him beyond belief. Scowling at the image of her face in his mind, he cursed her under his breath.

"You, woman, will be the death of me."
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