He's released from the hospital a week later.

Luffy wants to go straight to painting, beef jerky stuffed in his cheeks, itchy cast propped on a nearby chair and a clean canvas waiting for those drawings in the various notebooks he brought back from the hospital to be edited and painted with the real colors of Torao, but Nami puts her hands on her hips and gives him a look—and Nami's Nami, who's still worried and the one that controls the meat and booze budget—so first he bathes, shaves, and plants a sloppy kiss on Nami's cheek.

Finally, when his nakama are scattered throughout the studio and he's left alone with his canvas and the drawings of Torao tacked on the wall thanks to Nami, he sketches the curve of Torao's face, the edge of his smirk, the shape of his eyes and his hands, outstretched and open palmed.

Luffy's careful with the lines of Torao's hand, remembering the feeling of those calloused palms on his skin before everything went black. He remembers those long fingers, dark ink spelling death across the knuckles when Torao reached out to shake Sabo's hand.

This is what Luffy wants everyone to see, these hands that saved his life. He wants people to see Torao too, selfishly though, he wants those amber eyes that are more gold than brown, and that smirk that is sharp enough to cut like broken glass to be only for him. He wants Torao to only be his to see. It's stupid, Luffy knows, because Torao is his own person, knows that Torao is seen everyday by people, but to show Torao to the world? There's a pull in his stomach, a refusal in his mind.

He wants Torao to be loved, to be known as good, even though from what Kaya said the other nurses and doctors said about Torao, that people see him and see bad, see trouble like how people see Luffy and his nakama. Another part argues that he shouldn't care what people think, and Luffy doesn't, he only cares when people say bad things about his nakama.

The thing is though, Torao wants to be a doctor. He's studying to be, Kaya said, and she wouldn't lie. She also said, even though Torao almost has everything that qualifies him to be a doctor, that the director of the hospital doesn't wanna hire him because of his appearance. It's stupid. So what if Torao has tattoos and looks scary? Torao's good and he wants to help!

Luffy huffs, his leg aching and his paintbrush leaving an ugly mark against the canvas. It wouldn't matter though, because other people would hire Torao, but Kaya said that the hospital was important to Torao, that she had spoken to Torao's sister and that's what she told her, even though she wouldn't tell why that hospital is important. Anyway, Kaya also told him that Torao wouldn't want his face shown in his artwork, because Torao likes his privacy.

Taking a gulp of some nearby booze left by Zoro, an idea comes to the Pirate King of The Art World. He grins. If he can talk to Torao, he can make it work. The only problem is finding out where Torao lives. Frowning, Luffys grin quickly returns. He knows who to ask.

"Robiin!"

Robin doesn't give him the address right away.

She frowns and combs her fingers through his hair while Chopper checks his leg. Luffy pouts, his arms folded while laying against Robin's chest. "You're still ill, Luffy." She says, and despite being denied, there's warmth in his chest. His nakama love him, even though they don't let him do what he wants when he's sick.

"You can visit when you're no longer dependent on your medication and the cast comes off."

Before Luffy can protest, she cuts in.

"However," Robin smiles in that way Luffy loves, "perhaps we can visit the cafe that I've heard Torao frequently occupies at this time of day. It is only a walk from the studio."

Her eyes are suddenly cold. "It's the cafe where you were hit outside of."

His life hasn't been easy, and Luffys never complained, but—its hard to breathe, remembering the way pain had flared up his leg and settled in his stomach, the way his ears rung and he couldn't speak.

Robin frowns, "That's what I thought. Rest so that you may get to see Trafal-guy in a more favorable setting," she says softly, tracing the scar beneath his eye.

It hurts, what Robin did, but she's right.

Luffy frowns, heart still pounding, and nods.

It doesn't stop him though, from staying in the studio the rest of the night, angrily throwing down every canvas where he doesn't get Torao's hands right, or the color of Torao's eyes right. It's not enough, he needs to see Torao, needs Torao here so he can get it right.

His nakama are being more protective now, scared to lose him, even Zoro said he needed to wait until he's better, and Zoro knows why this so important. Ace and Sabo are doing the same, and it's not fair. After being stuck for so long and getting hit by a car, he's found his muse and he can't explore it, can't meet it and know who they are.

So he drinks the booze in the cooler, uses most of his canvases until all that's left is a single canvas and various paints, color pencils, and charcoal. This is how, at some time in the morning when all his nakama are scattered about the studio, that Luffy makes it.

He's perfect.

There's the shadow of Torao's eyes, that beautiful golden brown color captured with the same intensity that Torao had when he was hit. His hands are the picture Luffy has when he closes his eyes and sees Torao's hands, feeling that phantom pain in his casted leg.

There's no words to describe it, and despite showing the outline of Torao's eyes and his hands, so lifelike and real like the first painting that brought him into the art world, only those who know Torao will know whom this painting is of. With a stuttering breath, awed at the sight of his own work, Luffy grins and let's Hat dangle around his neck. Behind him, Robin eases into the room with an awed breath. "Well done, Captain." she says softly, "This is one of your greatest yet."

A hum of appreciation follows from Zoro beside her, followed by Nami's sly grin.

"What's it's name?"

Luffy grins. The name is right, he can feel it.

"The Surgeon of Death."

A/N:

One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda.

I've returned! I orphaned my works on the archive and now can't get them back. Not to worry though! I'll repost under my new name, nevermakethesamemistakes. I'm sorry this chapter is so short and uneventful.