It had been eating at him for a while.

Not loudly—Luffy didn’t do things the way most people did—but it was there. A quiet itch at the back of his mind every time he looked at you.

You were loyal. Strong. Always there when the crew needed you. You never backed down from a fight, never complained when things got hard, and never lost control.

But something about you didn’t fit. Not in a bad way. Just… not all the way in.

You held back. Always just a little.

Your laugh never reached your eyes. You disappeared sometimes without explaining where. You were quick to listen, but never quick to talk. Like there was a wall only you knew how to keep standing.

And Luffy hated walls.

So that night, when the ship was quiet and the sky was velvet-dark, he found you sitting near the bow, legs pulled close, staring out like the sea might give you answers it never gave anyone else.

He didn’t ask permission. He just dropped down beside you, cross-legged, close.

You looked at him, then away.

“I don’t know what it is,” he said simply. “But you’re hiding something.”

You didn’t deny it.

He squinted at you, not angry—just serious in the way only Luffy could be when something really mattered to him.

“I don’t care what it is,” he went on. “I just care that you’re not saying it.”

You blinked slowly. Still didn’t speak.

He leaned in a little. “I’m your captain. And I need to trust you. All of you. Not just the parts you let us see.”

Your throat tightened.

You wanted to speak. It trembled behind your teeth, right there. The truth. The reason. The fear.

But something held you still.

Luffy tilted his head, eyes sharp in the moonlight. “Is it bad?”

You didn’t answer.

“Is it dangerous?”

Still, silence.

“Does it have to do with us?” he asked. “With the crew?”

Your jaw clenched.

He exhaled, pushing a hand through his hair. “Then why won’t you say it?”

You looked at him—really looked. At the boy who had offered you a place without question, a home without rules. Who trusted you, even now, with whatever you were hiding.

He didn’t know if it hurt you.

He didn’t ask if it did.

He just needed the truth.

Because that’s what this crew was built on. Trust. Freedom. Family.

And maybe he couldn’t force you to speak…

But he wasn’t going anywhere until you decided.

You opened your mouth.