It Snowed This Morning
One Piece is the property of Odachi/Shonen Jump. Yeah.
“It's snowing! A little. Wake up and come see.”
Smoker snorted into the pillow. It wasn't right, a pirate being an earlier riser than himself. Especially a pirate who left the bed this warm.
Smoker looked at the clock. Not even 0600. The last man he had regularly woken up next to had never wanted to get up before noon.
And he had been a goddamn admiral.
With him, Smoker could have had snow whenever they wanted. Working together, smoke particles and freezing temperatures, they could have turned the whole world clean white. But when Smoker had mentioned the thought, the other marine had only shrugged and expressed mild, lazy surprize that Smoker had a sense of humor.
Now they both continued their attempts to purify the world. Seperately.
The feeling that it should have worked out had hurt more than the actual loss. That a mutual love of justice had been unable to overcome ideological quibbles and mundane annoyances seemed to imply something terrifying.
Just as frightening was the thought that criminal fire was succeding where just ice had not. Maybe it was nothing to be surprised by, that the opposite element would lead to opposite effect.
But it was alarming that what seemed to make all the difference wasn't a matter of hot or cold, or the increasingly meaningless difference between crossbones or blue seagull, but the impatient eagerness offered the possibility of a morning snowfall.
“It's snowing! A little. Wake up and come see.”
Smoker snorted into the pillow. It wasn't right, a pirate being an earlier riser than himself. Especially a pirate who left the bed this warm.
Smoker looked at the clock. Not even 0600. The last man he had regularly woken up next to had never wanted to get up before noon.
And he had been a goddamn admiral.
With him, Smoker could have had snow whenever they wanted. Working together, smoke particles and freezing temperatures, they could have turned the whole world clean white. But when Smoker had mentioned the thought, the other marine had only shrugged and expressed mild, lazy surprize that Smoker had a sense of humor.
Now they both continued their attempts to purify the world. Seperately.
The feeling that it should have worked out had hurt more than the actual loss. That a mutual love of justice had been unable to overcome ideological quibbles and mundane annoyances seemed to imply something terrifying.
Just as frightening was the thought that criminal fire was succeding where just ice had not. Maybe it was nothing to be surprised by, that the opposite element would lead to opposite effect.
But it was alarming that what seemed to make all the difference wasn't a matter of hot or cold, or the increasingly meaningless difference between crossbones or blue seagull, but the impatient eagerness offered the possibility of a morning snowfall.