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Luffy is a curious boy, rambunctious in a way that reminds Shanks of his youth, a time that he remembers with fondness and a warmth that he cannot ever hope to replicate. It's a good thing, most days. He keeps Shanks and his crew on their feet, stops them from becoming complacent in this calm sea of the east, calms their hearts when it feels like every ghost from the past has come back to haunt them.
They know that when the windmills of Foosha village peek over the horizon, there will be someone waiting for them. Whether he is hopping from foot to foot, excited to hear their stories and tell his own in turn, or half asleep, nodding off, a tired smile to greet them once they disembark.
Luffy has become theirs, a secret that they take with them out to sea, with a hope that they will return to see him once more.
Shanks is indulging Luffy in his half drunk haze, allowing the boy to touch his face and move him to and fro. He winces when Luffy pushes his head up rather forcefully, something in his neck stiffening with the motion, and when the boy pulls his head back down, his jaw clicks.
Small fingers run themselves over the scar tissue on his face, tugging at Shanks' eye lashes each time Luffy becomes distracted by them. Over and over, his scar has begun to tingle with each touch, and Shanks is on the verge of redirecting the small hand when it suddenly stops.
He opens the eyes he hadn't noticed he closed and idly wonders when his little anchor's face became so serious, why the boy looks older beyond his years yet still has that babyish quality to him. It was cute.
"I'll kill 'im," Luffy says resolutely, his tongue peeking out when he stumbles over his words. Cute. Cute. Cute.
"Huh..?," Shanks blanks once his brain catches up with his ears. He had been about to squeeze the boy to his chest, suffocate him in the love that had burst in his chest at the boy's essence.
A tiny finger traces one of the scars, almost reverently, "I'll kill 'im."
Shanks cannot find a lie in that statement, that promise.
He gives into his heart and squeezes Luffy close, chuckling when the boy fusses briefly before settling down, fingers now mapping the chest that his head is pillowed on.
His anchor was growing up.