Joyless Laughter

Warnings: AU, major character death, before Franky and Brooke

He laughs without any joy, a choked, painful sound, and remembers the days that he could still laugh happily.

There are times when he would just stare at the straw hat sitting innocently at his bedside, thinking of a boy with a smile like sunshine and a stubborn streak a mile wide. Sometimes, when remembering became too painful, he takes the hat and presses it to his forehead gently. After all, its owner would kill him if it became damaged.

Sometimes, they come to visit. The visits are always quiet, awkward and depressing. They mutter excuses and leave as quickly as they can. The ero-cook doesn't pick fights with him anymore, and the witch has stopped demanding for him to pay his debts. He finds that he can no longer meet their eyes, but he laughs anyways, as painful as it is.

Surprisingly, Robin was the first to break. Within a week, she had moved away, leaving nothing behind. He gave her a silent goodbye and knew she understood.

He doesn't wear the hat. He had tried once, and it felt so wrong, so he carefully put it down on his bedside table. Then he proceeded to take his swords and slice up the rest of the furniture in the room, tears clouding his vision.

The cheerful, meat-loving moron had once told him that laughing made the world look better. When he had been with the moron, it had been true, and laugh they did. Now, alone in his tiny apartment with his laughter echoing off the walls, he realized that there had never been a bigger lie.

Nami was the next to break. The former kleptomaniac moved to another city, where she started over again, abandoning her past completely. He watched in silence and turned away without so much as a sound.

He hadn't been there when his sister died. He regretted it for the rest of his life.

He was there when his best friend died. Night after night, he holds the straw hat and wishes he hadn't.

He had always been an outcast, because of his hair, his love of swordsmanship, and his personality. After Kuina died, he had been alone for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to be warm again. Then, he had came, smiling without a care in the world, bearing a straw hat as if it was his greatest treasure. The moron whose name he no longer dared to speak had brought warmth back into his life, and dragged him into the sunshine. Then, slowly, they stepped out to join them, and one by one, they let go of their pain and learned to laugh. They were friends, they were nakama. That is, until the boy with a smile like sunshine went on ahead, to a place they couldn't reach.

Chopper, the youngest in their little group sank into depression, despite his attempts to keep strong. The boy was completely broken. It was almost a relief when the fifteen year old had been found in his closet, hanging from the belt Robin had given him. Zoro didn't cry, but offered a silent prayer to the heavens. It began to rain.

Had the moron borrowed money from Nami that day, he might have taken a taxi. As much as the idiot loved the feel of walking, the distance from the city center to their hideout was too far even for him. So the idiot took the bus with Zoro, using change he might have used to buy meat in any other situation. When the teen's charred body was pulled from the flaming wrecks of the bus, something small and precious in him had died. Life would never be the same anymore…he watched as the world faded to monochrome.

He went home after the funeral stone-faced, though he was breaking to pieces on the inside. It had been a horrible affair, and seeing the coffin lowered into the ground, he realized that the boy would never break into his apartment and raid his fridge anymore. No more loud knocking on his door each morning. No more broken furniture, courtesy of the boy's clumsiness. No more Luffy. He felt like he had failed the moron somehow and could never bring himself to speak the name again.

Usopp stopped telling his stories. He never spoke of the moron, and he never visited any of them. The liar married Kaya and began a normal life, even though normality was only just a lie. Old habits die hard.

The boy's brother, Ace, had given him the straw hat after the funeral.

"He would have wanted you to have it." the man said, voice thick with tears.

He would have wanted you to be happy, but that isn't possible anymore, is it?

"Please take care of it." Ace continued, eyes haunted.

Please live on in his stead.

Unspoken words were left unspoken. He nodded and gently cradled the hat. As he turned away, he knew that this was his punishment.

One morning, the cook knocked on his door. The two did not exchange any words for hours, sitting in the apartment, each lost in thought as they stared at the hat. It had only been a few hours on a Saturday afternoon, but it felt like an eternity.

"Do you want it?" he asked. The cook stared at him, eyes clouded with pain.

"No." the cook replied. Then he had gotten up and left, leaving the green haired swordsman alone in his misery.

The cook moved to France. He sighed and knew that they would never meet again, at least not in this world. Unspoken words of Please don't go remained unspoken. A silent farewell was worse than none.

He laughs without any joy, a choked, painful sound, and remembers the days that he could still laugh happily.

A/N: I'm sorry. I hate myself for writing this too.