The smell of freshly grilled meat filled the air, thick and smoky, curling up into the late afternoon sky. Luffy sat cross-legged on the wooden porch of some roadside teahouse, tearing into a massive hunk of roasted boar with all the finesse of a starving beast. Grease dripped down his fingers, but he didn’t care—he just grinned through a mouthful of meat, chewing noisily, eyes practically sparkling with delight.

“Mmmph—so gooood!” he mumbled, barely swallowing before taking another ridiculous bite.

Beside him, a tray of dumplings had already been demolished, skewers piled high like a tiny mountain of defeat. The old lady who ran the place peeked out from the kitchen, watching in stunned horror as Luffy inhaled her entire weekly supply of food like a black hole with no bottom.

“Oi, oi, slow down!” Zoro grumbled from where he sat nearby, arms crossed, watching Luffy’s stomach stretch unnaturally with every bite. “You’re gonna choke and die before you even fight Kaido again.”

Luffy just laughed, mouth still full. “Then at least I’d die happy!”

He reached for another skewer, only for his hand to meet empty space. He froze.

His plate was empty.

A shadow fell over his face. His lips pressed together. A single, hollow sound left him.

“…No more?”

A beat of silence. Then—

“NO MOOOREEEEE?!” Luffy wailed, flopping onto his back like a man betrayed by the gods. He clutched his stomach dramatically, rolling side to side. “How could this happen?! I was gonna eat until I couldn’t move!”

“You already can’t move,” Nami muttered, sipping her tea.

He groaned, fingers twitching toward Zoro’s plate, but the swordsman shot him a warning glare, hand on his hilt. Luffy pouted glancing at you.

“…You gonna eat that?” he loomed over you, drooling far to much for that to be an actual question.