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His captain’s conqueror’s haki settles across Jinbe’s shoulders like sun on the ocean.
“It’s humbling, isn’t it?” says Brook, beside him. His voice is low, a murmur, and there’s a reverence to it that Jinbe feels echoed in his own chest.
So he nods, and says, “Yes.”
It’s late morning. Nami’s gone inside to file their new bounties, and Franky and Usopp have followed her, chattering about all their ideas now that they finally have access to the Thousand Sunny’s workshop again. Sanji’s gone off to go start lunch at Luffy’s insistence with a parting kick in Zoro’s direction, and Chopper’s taken the opportunity to grab Zoro by the arm and drag him bodily to the infirmary to check his bandages. So it’s just Robin, Brook, Jinbe, and Luffy left on deck when Luffy shuts his eyes, and smiles blissfully, and drops a blanket of conqueror’s haki across the ship.
Breath leaves Jinbe’s mouth in a rush at the sudden pressure. From the corner of his eye and haki he sees Robin lean back against the foremast, pure contentment softening her face. Brook, beside him at the railing, tilts his skull back to look at the sun. Luffy laughs, a soft little shishishi, then opens his eyes and catches Jinbe’s gaze, arresting.
Jinbe dips his head.
It’s not an entirely conscious action. The haki settling over him, warming his skin, encircling him demands respect, attention, even awe. All of these, Jinbe is more than willing to give, wants nothing more than to give his slight new captain who will conquer the seas, so he lowers his gaze, allows Luffy his sovereignty, lets warmth seep into his veins.
So: “It’s humbling, isn’t it?” murmurs Brook, with all the reverence of a man led by the hand out the dark and into sunlight, and Jinbe straightens up, turns to meet the grinning skull of his face.
Nods, and says, “Yes.”
They stand for a moment, Jinbe adjusting to the thickness of the air, Brook just basking. “He started doing this after we left Fishman Island,” adds Brook. His fingerbones clack faintly as he laces them together. “I still haven’t quite gotten used to it. The sensation, or the belonging.”
“It's not usual,” says Jinbe. He hasn't been entirely caught up yet on where and how Luffy found a talking skeleton for his crew, but it wasn't the New World. “Most crews would consider it an attack.”
Or a power play, which in a way Jinbe supposes it is. But even Whitebeard's haki had never felt this right.
“Luffy isn't usual,” answers Brook, unperturbed. “And he has faith in our strength.”
“Yes,” says Jinbe, and remembers a declaration of command, and remembers Luffy, beaten half to death by Charlotte Katakuri but victorious, elevated by brittle desperation into something absolute, and undeniable, and remembers an order to come back alive, and remembers faith. There’d been conqueror’s haki then, sharpening his words and tone and gaze. Nothing like this, and yet, everything like this. “He does.”
Brook hums. “I was a captain once, too,” he says. He’s thrown back his head again, looking up past Jinbe to the sky. “The second captain of the Rumbar Pirates, fifty-odd years ago. We all died, of course.” He pauses, unlaces his fingers, drops his eyeless gaze to the sea. “Luffy bears the weight of command much more gracefully than I ever did.”
“I don’t know that it’s a weight to him,” answers Jinbe. He remembers: fingers counting up to eight.
“And to you?”
Jinbe looks at Brook, and lets his captain’s haki wash over him, undeniable, and says, “I finally feel free.”
That makes Brook laugh, a musical yohoho, and Jinbe smiles back at him. He does feel free, now, finally, on this ship, and joy sparks in his throat unexpectedly, at intervals. It’s unfamiliar, unbound from guilt and duty. It makes him want to laugh, too, and, startled by the impulse, he does.
Brook places a hand on the railing, the other on the handle of the sword at his side. “Every day, I look up and see the sun, and I feel his haki, and I’m reminded why I swore my second life to him.” He chuckles to himself. “Although, I don’t have eyes to see with. Skull Joke!”
Jinbe’s hand moves unconsciously to the Sun mark on his chest, fingertips tracing the edges of branded skin. “Who named this ship?” he asks, idly curious.
“You know,” Brook answers, tapping his fingers, “I actually have no idea- Ah, Luffy. Hello.” They turn towards the slap of his sandals as he wanders over from the bow, arms crossed behind his head. He tilts his head as he approaches, arms following. There’s no sign of strain on his face, despite the conqueror’s haki thickening the air. “I learned some Mink shanties from Nekomamushi while you were sleeping,” continues Brook, for all the world like he’d never meant to say anything else. “We can sing tonight, if you’d like?”
“Yes! Singing!” shouts Luffy, enthusiastic as they come. Brook dips his head briefly and slips away, to let Jinbe speak with his captain. Luffy watches him go. Says, “He’s the best musician in the world, you know.”
Jinbe smiles. Conqueror’s haki bids him kneel, kneel, kneel. “I can imagine, Captain.”
Luffy giggles, then hops up onto the railing, wrapping his legs around the bars to brace himself. “Jinbe,” he says. His voice is flat, suddenly, and his eyes are blank. “You’re mine now.”
“I am,” acknowledges Jinbe, easily.
Luffy cocks his head, and then flicks his fingers in turn, counting. He pauses on the ninth, then reaches forward to tap Jinbe with it on the chest, just above his Sun mark. Something twists in Jinbe’s stomach, catches in his throat. “No dying,” Luffy orders. Conqueror’s haki hangs heavy on Jinbe’s shoulders, demanding. “No more trying to stay behind. You’re gonna be right here when I become Pirate King, no matter what.”
Luffy pokes him again with his ninth finger, and then withdraws.
“Understood, Captain,” acknowledges Jinbe. He doesn’t know if he could answer otherwise if he wanted to. Luffy’s haki sings to him, warms him, buoys him up like the tide, demands and, finding attention freely given, gives.
Luffy smiles at him, sunny and pleased and more than a bit possessive, the kind of smile that could send men to their knees, that has conquered nations.
Jinbe adds, “Thank you.”
Luffy tilts his head the other way. “Hm?” he says. He’s got one hand on his hat, the other resting on the railing beside him. His face is still slightly bruised from Nami’s wild, affectionate rage regarding their plunge off the waterfall out of Wano Country, and there’s been something faintly eerie about his smile ever since his fight with Kaidou. Despite that, he manages to come off as regal, absolute self-possession and the will of a conquering king.
He’s less than half Jinbe’s age, less than half his size, far less than half his experience, but none of that has ever mattered, not since the moment Luffy’s gaze caught his own, desperate, in the depths of Impel Down, and chose not to let go; the moment Luffy counted up his reasons for living and named them aloud; the moment Jinbe offered up his blood in contravention of law and tradition to a dying human pirate whose will burned even at the bottom of the sea.
It’s selfish of him, Jinbe admits, but he doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to go back to his crew of fifteen years. Not now that he’s stood in the radiance of a king. Not now that he’s one of those vaunted few Luffy counts on his fingers. Not now that joy lives so close to the surface of his skin.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been free,” Jinbe says, finally.
Luffy’s face brightens again, sun out of clouds. His haki coils around Jinbe, cozy, covetous, and he says, “Jinbe’s my helmsman!” like it means something else, like it means everything he could ever need to say on the topic.
Jinbe realizes he’s smiling, doesn’t try to stop. Luffy gets his feet under him on the railing and then hops over to Jinbe’s shoulder, scrabbling for purchase with his sandals for a moment before he manages to twist around and sit himself down on Jinbe’s shoulderblade. He makes a satisfied noise. Rests his arms and chin on the top of Jinbe’s head, possessive.
“Comfortable up there, Luffy?” asks Jinbe, once he’s settled.
Luffy laughs. “Yep! I don’t get to be tall very often.” Jinbe can hear the faint petulance in his tone, finds himself fond all over again. “You’ve got a great view up here!”
“You’re welcome anytime,” says Jinbe, shifting his weight to make sure Luffy doesn’t dislodge with the rocking of the ship.
“Mhm!” agrees Luffy, leaning even more of his body weight on Jinbe’s head. He’s a tiny, lanky thing, but he’s dense. Jinbe doesn’t mind. Couldn’t mind even if he wanted to. He says, “Jinbe.”
“Yes?” answers Jinbe, casting his gaze to the horizon.
“I’m glad you’re in my crew,” says Luffy. “I’m really happy you could finally join!”
Jinbe looks at the horizon, at the sky, at the sun, at the sea. The air is thick with haki, warm, and his captain is snug on his shoulder, and One Piece is just ahead, just out of reach, and it will be Jinbe’s hand on the helm that guides the Pirate King to Laugh Tale.
Jinbe says, “Me too.”
And Luffy laughs, joyful, until Jinbe joins in.