The fight was over, the danger long gone, but Usopp hovered at your side like a sulky shadow. His lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout, eyes shiny, fingers gripping your sleeve with the desperation of a toddler who refused to be put down.

The crew watched the whole scene unfold—Sanji pausing mid-smoke, Nami raising a brow, Luffy tilting his head in confusion, and Zoro pretending he couldn’t see any of it.

Usopp sniffled loudly, pressing his forehead against your arm.

“I’m fine, okay? Totally fine. I just… y’know… need a couple pats. For morale. And maybe a hug. A long one. Because that fight was— I mean— not scary. Definitely not. Just… intense.”

He tightened his grip like he’d never let go.

“…Also I’m not moving until I feel emotionally repaired. So you’re stuck with me.”