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It’s an old wives’ tale. A sailor’s superstition. The sort of thing that isn’t taken seriously and that no one really believes, except no one disbelieves it, either.
A respawned Fruit, they say, remembers the body before. It retains an echo of its former user.
Sabo didn’t put much stock in those stories, because there was no reliable way to study the phenomenon without a significant amount of murder, and also because it didn’t really apply to him besides. He had a million other things on his mind, an army to babysit, and no plans of becoming a Fruit user in the first place.
The universe sure loves to laugh at him.
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Luffy’s face scrunches up the way it always does when he doesn’t want to wake up yet, but his body moves automatically to share the space. It’s how he grew up, Sabo thinks with equal parts affection and grief. Sharing space. Making room. Ace is the one who carved out a place for them in the world, but Luffy is the one who filled it.
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He’s proud. Luffy will be the best of them all.
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He isn’t sure what woke him. But the heartache he fell asleep with isn’t so heavy anymore. It feels like someone halved his pain and took their share of it away. -
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