The small café near the harbor was definitely not Bartolomeo’s idea.

He sat at a tiny round table meant for normal people, not men who proudly screamed their devotion to Monkey D. Luffy at dangerous volumes. His knees were awkwardly pulled in, shoulders hunched, fingers gripping the edge of the table like it might try to escape him.

A single flower sat in the center.

Bartolomeo stared at it like it was a loaded weapon.

“WHY AM I HERE,” he hissed, voice pitched low but vibrating with panic. “WHY IS THERE A FLOWER. LUFFY-SENPAI DOESN’T EAT FLOWERS.”

Across from him, Luffy leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs like this was a normal afternoon. He was grinning, straw hat tilted low.

“She’ll be here soon,” Luffy said cheerfully. “Ace said she’s cool.”

Bartolomeo snapped his head toward him. “SHE?!”

Ace, lounging against the café railing with his arms crossed, looked far too amused. He took a slow bite of whatever he’d stolen from the counter and smirked.

“Relax. She’s just a friend of mine,” Ace said. “Well—late friend. She runs late.”

Bartolomeo’s face flushed so hard it was practically steaming.

“A—A—A FRIEND?! OF YOURS?!” he yelped. “WHY IS A FRIEND OF FIRE FIST ACE BEING SEATED WITH ME LIKE THIS IS A—A—A—”

“A date?” Luffy finished, completely innocent.

Bartolomeo shrieked.

“I DID NOT AGREE TO A DATE!! I AGREED TO FOLLOW LUFFY-SENPAI ANYWHERE AT ANY TIME INCLUDING MY OWN DEATH—”

Ace laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you agreed real fast.”

Bartolomeo slammed his hands on the table. “I THOUGHT THIS WAS A TRAP FOR THE NAVY OR SOMETHING! OR A TEST OF LOYALTY! WHY IS THERE A CANDLE?!”

Luffy leaned forward, inspecting the candle. “Oh yeah, that’s for romance.”

Bartolomeo visibly short-circuited.

“ROM— WHAT— LUFFY-SENPAI YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT—”

Ace cut in, tone teasing but not cruel. “Look, she’s not scary. You’ll like her.”

Bartolomeo looked like he might actually faint.

“I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE,” he said desperately. “I LIKE YOU—I MEAN—LUFFY-SENPAI—NOT LIKE—LIKE—”

Luffy blinked. “Huh?”

Bartolomeo slapped his own face. Hard.

Ace snorted. “You’re doing great.”

Bartolomeo slumped forward, forehead nearly hitting the table.

“She’s late,” he muttered. “What if she hates me. What if she thinks I’m weird. What if she’s normal.”

Luffy tilted his head. “Why would that be bad?”

Bartolomeo slowly looked up at him, eyes wild.

“LUFFY-SENPAI. LOOK AT ME.”

Luffy nodded. “Yeah, you’re Bartolomeo.”

“EXACTLY.”

A moment passed. The harbor breeze shifted. Footsteps echoed somewhere outside the café.

Ace glanced toward the entrance.

“Oh,” he said casually. “That might be her.”

Bartolomeo froze.

Completely.

Not breathing. Not blinking. Soul leaving body.

“WHAT,” he croaked. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN MIGHT—”

Luffy grinned wide, hopping to his feet.

“Guess we’ll see!”

Bartolomeo whispered, voice shaking with sheer existential dread:

“…I should have stayed on the ship.”