Luffy always said the breeze here smelled like freedom, and you had to admit it: your grandson had inherited that same untamable drive from you. No wonder, every time the boy looked at you with those bright eyes and said, “I’m going to be a pirate, Grandma!”, you just laughed and gave him your blessing.

Of course, you knew that drove Garp crazy.

And there he was now, arms crossed in front of you, his face hardened by years of duty. His uniform was spotless, his jaw clenched… but his eyes, those eyes told you he wasn’t here by chance.

“I knew it was you,” he growled, his deep voice laced with reproach. “The brat didn’t come up with the idea of being a pirate on his own. You always spoiled him. And you still do.”

He clicked his tongue in frustration, and that only made you want to provoke him more. After all, you’d spent years watching him break his back for justice, while you without ever being a pirate caused enough trouble to force him to clean up after you. It was almost a game between the two of you.

“Does it amuse you?” he asked, almost exasperated.