#hatless shachi

[laidenbreecatchall]

It's been a good drawing day

(transcript under cut)

Character not pictured: "I'm cleaning your nasty ass hats"

Peng: "I feel so naked"

Messy silky black hat hair

Shachi: "Be gentle with them"

Sooour! (Based off Odas drawing of Laws reaction to eating Umeboshi)

(Next to a little doodle of myself) I feel grody

[alegnace]

Here is the promised tattoo design. Starts with the orca boy

[tsarisfanfiction]

Safe (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: character injury Characters: Law, Shachi

It was difficult not to stagger under Penguin's weight as the older teen sagged more and more against him on their journey back to the Tang, but Law had no choice but to persevere. Shachi, while somehow still conscious, was in no state to attempt to even support his own weight, let alone anyone else's, and Bepo's arms were full with his precious burden of the aforementioned ginger. Penguin's stupid suicidal mission (not that Law blamed him, when Shachi was so clearly in trouble, but there were better ways to go about rescuing him than walking into an obvious trap and getting himself half-killed in the process) had left him unable to walk without help, leaving Law to act as his crutch even as he glanced back at Shachi every other second.

The emergency surgery he'd done would theoretically let him survive their walk back to the Tang, especially with Bepo carrying him so carefully, but Law couldn't help but panic that it wasn't enough, that his makeshift sealing of the injured lung would split apart, or another rib fragment would puncture through as Bepo walked. Maybe the lung was still full of blood, Shachi too weak to cough it up – he hadn't heard any coughing at all – and he added draining his lung of blood to the top of the mental to-do list for their return to the Tang.

They made it without further incident, despite gaining far more attention at the docks than Law cared for, and Penguin was finally allowed to slump onto one of the beds in the infirmary, loosely arranging himself in what was clearly supposed to be a sitting position but ended up as more of a drained slouch against the headboard with pillows scruffily stuffed behind him for support. Once Law was satisfied that he was safely on the bed, he joined Bepo and helped the mink offload his own cargo gently onto a bed. Just as when they'd manoeuvred him into Bepo's arms initially, Shachi remained largely silent with only a couple of pained hisses through gritted teeth to betray his pain. Law was impressed at his tolerance, knowing how much broken ribs hurt, let alone the rest of the injuries Shachi had sustained.

"Get us away from this island," he ordered Bepo, wishing he could keep him around as an assistant – at least to deal with Penguin's worse wounds – but they were nowhere near safe. He had heard one of the gang members mention Vergo, and if they had contact with him it would only be so long before Doflamingo's spy came sniffing around. Law wanted, needed, to be far far away before that eventually occurred. Shachi's capture had brought them too much attention from the general populace (he had killed everyone in the gang, but he couldn't massacre the entire island), and Law knew that Doflamingo would learn of it, somehow. Bepo's anonymity was gone – no-one would forget a polar bear walking on hind legs and wearing an orange boiler suit any time soon – and Law could only hope that with Penguin intentionally hatless, for better disguise purposes, and Shachi so injured and cradled in Bepo's arms, accurate descriptions of the pair of them in their usual appearances wouldn't make it back to his former captain.

He handed Penguin a compress to hold to his shoulder as best he could in order to help stem the bleeding before his attention had to turn to Shachi, who was lying very still on the other bed. His eyes were still closed, and Law wished he'd thought to grab a spare pair of shades so the ginger could open his eyes if he wanted to. Turning the lights down low in the infirmary wasn't possible right then if he wanted to accurately treat his two nakama. He wondered if there was a way to hone his abilities enough to no longer need light to operate, something derived from Observation Haki, perhaps, if he ever awoke it.

As he'd already agreed with himself, removing Shachi's injured lung to drain it of whatever blood was building inside was his first priority, before he moved on to locating the other injuries. Tentative exploration with his fingers located a broken forearm, fractured fingers and a sprained ankle alongside the shattered ribs, a bruised abdomen (and the boot-like shape of the bruises gave Law no doubts what had happened there) and numerous gashes of varying depth.

Lacking the patience to do it the standard way, and conscious of his second patient behind him, Law murmured a quick warning to Shachi before calling his Room and separating him out into sections so he could see exactly what he was doing with each bone as he used Tact to set them again. To his immense concern, Shachi's body went limp as he did so, and he paused just long enough to call his name before continuing to work.

"Mmhmm," the ginger hummed lightly, increasing Law's concern. He hadn't observed any signs of head trauma, but it was possible he had missed something. Mild concussion was more difficult to diagnose with Shachi, with his pupils permanently blown and sensitive to light, but Law could see no other reason for his sudden relaxation when he should, by all rights, be in extensive pain.

"Shachi?" he asked, even as he was arm-deep in his nakama's chest realigning the rib fragments and persuading them to remain where he put them.

"I'm okay," the ginger sighed, sounding perfectly coherent. "Whatever you're doing don't stop." Law froze, dumbfounded.

"I've got you in pieces on the bed as I physically force your body back together," he said bluntly, wondering why Shachi wasn't complaining about the creepiness and unable to curb his tongue of the retort.

"Huh," Shachi said, sounding surprised. "Interesting." Law's concussion theory was looking more and more likely, but he continued working. Blood loss was mainly a concern for Shachi (yet another one in the pile), but if he didn't get to Penguin soon the other teen would be reaching the threshold himself.

"What is?" he asked as he finished with the final rib and sealed Shachi's chest back together before turning his attention to the broken arm, wanting Shachi's focus on their conversation. Shachi hummed thoughtfully, and Law frowned. "Shachi."

"Feels… nice," the ginger eventually replied. "I like it."

Probably the concussion talking, Law figured as he finally pieced Shachi's body back together. It didn't escape his notice that the ginger's body tensed again as his Room dropped, and consented to putting him on a mild painkiller to dull the worst of it.

"After I treat Penguin I'll turn the light down," he promised before turning to face the now almost unconscious older teen. Curiously, like Shachi he relaxed as the Room washed over him, and Law began to wonder if it was a side effect of his fruit, despite never observing it before. If that was the case it certainly had useful applications.

"Law?" Shachi said questioningly, still conscious despite his body's best attempts. Law made a noise of interest. "Thanks. For saving me."

"Penguin did most of it," Law deflected, because it was true. Penguin had been the one to find him, the one to fight with everything he had to save him. Compared to that, Law had done very little.

"Penguin nearly got himself killed," Shachi pointed out, and Law wondered how, exactly, he knew that when he hadn't opened his eyes once. "You saved us both." Arguing with Shachi was usually futile, so Law saved his breath, securely wrapping one of Penguin's arms and letting the comment go with a small smile on his face.

Somehow, at some point, these two idiots (and the far less idiotic mink currently guiding the Tang out of the harbour) had carved a place for themselves into his heart, making themselves so much at home he knew they were there to stay. And somehow, Law was okay with that.

[alegnace]

May I offer you soft Core Heart Bros in this trying time

[tsarisfanfiction]

Awaken (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: None Characters: Shachi, Law, Penguin

Follows on from Vigil

Everything hurt. Or rather, that's what Shachi's mind expected to find as it resurfaced from the depths of a coma. Having very definitely had his stomach blown out – he'd fainted, sure, but not for several seconds after it had happened, his body too in shock to realise it shouldn't be conscious – meant there should be agony to go with it.

The truth was that there was little more than a dull ache, leaving him to wonder if it had been a particularly vivid dream. Not that he'd be complaining, of course. He'd take a vivid dream over actual near-death any day.

His eyes wouldn't open, feeling a bit like they'd been sewn shut. Well, as long as he wasn't actually blind, he could deal with the darkness a little longer as he tried to sort out what was fact and what had been a dream. No shades, no hat. That told him nothing; either he was in his own bed, or a bed in the infirmary. Either way, he wouldn't be wearing either item.

His left hand was far warmer than the rest of him, and at a funny angle. Lifted up away from his body, it felt like someone was clinging to it. That didn't bode so well for the 'just a dream', although if the nightmare had been violent enough, then maybe. How anyone was holding his hand without touching him elsewhere if he was in his bunk was a mystery, though. There wouldn't be room… so maybe it hadn't been a dream?

Or he could have been lazy and crashed in Penguin's bunk. That was an option too.

The incessant beeping in the corner didn't sound like their alarm, though (and if it was, Penguin would be jostling him by now, reminding him it was time to get up and face the new day). The room smelt clean, the crisp scent of a sterilised environment, not the slightly musky scent of a room lived in by two men in their twenties. That was a couple of concerning points for the 'not a dream' camp.

"He's waking up," he heard, a voice off to his right and therefore not belonging to the hands clutching his left. Said hands tightened in response.

"Shachi?" the presumably owner of the hands said, the voice weak and cracking slightly in the middle. It sounded like they hadn't spoken for days, their throat scratchy and hoarse. Uh oh, that really didn't bode well for the whole 'probably real' thing.

"Don't hurry him," the first voice chided gently. It was strained, worried, and familiar. Shachi knew that voice, now who… "Let him wake in his own time." Law. That was Law's voice. Okay, definitely in the infirmary. Law didn't invade their room unless they dragged him in. And if Law was there, then that meant…

He fought with his fingers until they moved, twitching lightly in the grip that held them. His reward was a sharp intake of breath, the hands encompassing his shifting slightly in response. Emboldened by the success, he tried again, this time managing to distinctly squeeze them.

"Shachi?" the other voice repeated, full of hope and pain and yes, that was Penguin. Oops, the blown-out stomach thing really really had happened, hadn't it? While far from averse to physical contact, Penguin rarely did something quite as sentimental as hand-holding.

"Yo," he croaked, pleasantly surprised that his voice was still in working order. From the state of Penguin's, he'd probably been out of it for some time. He attempted to open his eyes again, succeeding long enough to see his nakama was hatless and a mess before wincing and closing them again. "Ow, too bright," he complained. He'd never been a fan of bright lights, and the whiteness of the infirmary after unconsciousness was not at all welcome.

"How are you feeling?" Law asked. Shachi heard some shuffling off to his right, where he deduced his captain was, before the familiar weight of his shades very gently returned. He opened his eyes again, easier now that the tinted lenses were defending his eyes from the brightness.

"Better than you two look," he replied, looking at them both and seeing just how dishevelled they were. Like Penguin, Law's hat was nowhere to be seen, and his usually untamed hair looked downright wild. Both had bags under their eyes (not that that was anything new for Law, but they were more pronounced than usual), so it was easy to deduce that they'd barely slept since… "How long was I out?"

"Four days," Law admitted. Huh, that was a long time. Law could usually fix them up in less than a day. Oh yeah, blown out stomach. Shachi remembered Mugiwara's nightmare surgery and recovery. Two weeks. Maybe four days made sense. His right hand crept towards his stomach, feeling for the bandaging, only to be caught in a gentle yet firm grip. As his left hand was very definitely still in the custody of Penguin's hands, it had to be Law. "Leave it alone."

Shachi acquiesced, turning his hand in the grip to squeeze Law's hand softly instead.

"I'm okay," he reassured them. It probably didn't have the desired effect as he was still weak. "You two go get some rest." It was clear that neither of them had done so since the battle, and Shachi felt guilty for worrying them so much. "Shachi's Orders," he added with a grin that was more forced than he'd wanted when neither so much as twitched.

"Since when do you have authority to order me around?" Law asked him, although he sounded more amused than offended. Penguin's response was to merely tighten his grip on Shachi's hand.

"Since you two are being idiots and not taking care of yourselves," Shachi retorted.

"Says the one that got a hole to the stomach," Penguin groused. Shachi squeezed his hand again, trying to convince him to move. He appreciated the company, he really did. If he'd woken up alone, he probably would have panicked. But he wasn't having his nakama run themselves to the ground on his behalf. They didn't need all three of them out of commission. Presumably Bepo had taken command, possibly assisted by Jean Bart – he might be the newest, but he had a good head on his shoulders and didn't panic as easily as some of the rest of them – but Bepo hated being in charge. The weight of responsibility was too heavy for him to bear for long.

"Says the one that got a hole to the stomach," he agreed, not that he could feel it. That was probably due to a large amount of anaesthetic and his captain's abilities rather than because it was already fully healed, though. "Now scat, you're helping no-one running yourselves down. Not me, and certainly not the rest of the crew."

He saw the two share a look and frowned. It wasn't often that they teamed up – usually it was him and Penguin teaming up on Law when he was making stupid calls – but this was clearly one of those rare occasions. A familiar blue sheen expanded, encompassing more of the infirmary than Shachi could see without turning his head, and in all honesty he wasn't sure he had the energy for that.

"Shambles."

He didn't see what Law moved, although the resounding thuds sounded heavy enough that it was something substantial. Penguin let out a noise that almost passed for amusement.

"Works for me," he said, and dammit now Shachi really wanted to know what stunt his captain had pulled. Penguin stood up, releasing Shachi's hand gently and letting it fall back to the bedside – Shachi had no energy to keep it suspended even if he wanted to. Shachi let a satisfied grin grace his face, until Penguin simply lay down on the bed that definitely hadn't been there earlier and closed his eyes.

"You don't get to tell me when I'm leaving my own infirmary," Law said from his other side, and Shachi glanced across as best he could to see the taller male mirroring Penguin's actions on a bed the other side of him. Shachi just sighed, hearing his companions succumb to sleep faster than he was willing to bet they'd wanted. It was another reminder that they'd been neglecting themselves for him – if he found out they'd been skipping meals there would be hell to pay – and he stared at the ceiling, letting the steady sounds of their breathing, as familiar to him as his own, calm him.

He couldn't blame them, not really. If it had been either of them in his position, he wouldn't have left their side for anything either. He took a deep breath, exhaling slightly shakily as he mentally reviewed how close he must have come to leaving them. Far too close.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he murmured to his sleeping companions.