Carry on Wayward Son

by SooFanMagic20

Summary:

Trafalgar Law never wanted to be a hero—he just wanted revenge. Unfortunately, murdering a top pro hero like Donquixote Doflamingo without a license is apparently “illegal” (who knew?), so now he’s stuck at U.A. High School pretending to care about “saving people” and “heroic ideals.”

As if that’s not bad enough, he’s stuck in Class 1-A with his overly cheerful boyfriend, Luffy, who’s somehow convinced he’ll become the world’s greatest firefighter, and his best friend Bepo, who cries every time Aizawa so much as looks at him. Meanwhile, Bakugo keeps yelling at him to “drop the attitude,” Todoroki stares at him like he’s some kind of puzzle, and Midoriya keeps taking notes on his fighting style. It’s exhausting.

Guided by his grumpy guardian Sengoku—who insists Law has “potential” or whatever—Law grits his teeth and plays the hero game. All while plotting how to stab Doflamingo in the face without getting expelled or sent to jail. Between chaotic training sessions, teachers who don’t trust him, and classmates who can’t mind their own business, Law’s starting to wonder if vengeance is really worth dealing with all these idiots.

One thing’s for sure: being a hero sucks.

Notes:

Crossover of the Dressrosa arc of One Piece with the fourth season of Boku No Hero Academia.

Needless to say, Law will be pessimistic and downright nasty to everyone outside his close friends. But that's part of his character development.

Unfortunately, I had to replace Aoyama and Koda with Law and Luffy for the sake of the plot. All For One is dead, so Aoyama isn't in Class 1-A, but he has another mission, really. I also replaced Mineta with Bepo.

I'll just say that Law is more "experienced" than his classmates. Law isn't so innocent, really.

Chapter 1

Law adjusted the knot of his tie with slow, precise movements, his reflection staring back at him from the dormitory mirror. He had lost count of how many times he had done this same routine, but he never stopped counting the days until the school ended. Each one that passed was another day wasted, another reminder that he was trapped in this place, playing hero while his true goal remained just out of reach.

He hated U.A. He hated the overly enthusiastic teachers who believed in nonsense like justice and hope. He hated his classmates, with their loud voices, their pointless rivalries, and their irritating habit of assuming he gave a damn about any of them. But most of all, he hated himself—for not finding another way.

Revenge had felt simple before. A clear objective. A direct path. But the moment he set foot in this school, the world had shifted under him. Now, he was tangled in rules, expectations, and distractions disguised as friendships. Months had passed, and instead of hunting down Doflamingo, he was stuck studying hero ethics and learning how to cooperate with others. As if any of it mattered.

At least Luffy was here. His room was right above Law’s, and every night, without fail, he would drop by, climbing down like some kind of overgrown monkey just to flop onto Law’s bed. He would listen as Law complained about everything and everyone, laughing at his misery before wrapping around him like a warm, unshakable presence. It was infuriating how easily Luffy made things feel bearable.

Law exhaled sharply, smoothing down his uniform jacket. It didn’t matter. He had spent too much time waiting, pretending to care about this place, but it wouldn’t be forever.

Sooner or later, he would make his move.

Doflamingo would fall unexpectedly. Law would be the one to make sure of that. He didn’t care how untouchable the bastard seemed, how deeply woven into the hero world he was—Law would find a way to tear him down. And when the time came, he wouldn’t hesitate. He would carve out the man’s last breath with surgical precision.

Then everything would be fine.

He longed for that day, clung to the thought like a lifeline. It was the only thing that made U.A. tolerable. The moment Doflamingo was dead, Law would throw his hero license into the trash where it belonged and never look back. This whole farce, this experiment in heroism, would mean nothing. No one would be able to stop him from doing what he truly wanted—what he was meant to do.

He would study medicine. Become a surgeon. A real one, not whatever society pretended heroes were. He would use his Quirk for something that actually mattered. Maybe he would open a clinic with Wolf, helping people who couldn't afford the kind of life-saving procedures that heroes only performed when cameras were watching.

He just had to endure until graduation.

Two and a half years.

Law tightened his jaw as he grabbed his blazer and slipped it on. It felt suffocating. Two and a half years of training, of pretending to care about hero work, of standing next to people who genuinely believed they were changing the world for the better. People who smiled and cheered and shouted about Plus Ultra like it was some grand destiny.

It was pathetic.

He buttoned his jacket and glanced at the clock. He was already running late—not that it mattered. Aizawa would just sigh and accept his excuse with a tired glare, too lazy to push for discipline beyond a snarky remark. Luffy, on the other hand, would definitely yell his name down the hall, probably with his mouth full of food, and shove half his breakfast into Law’s hands because “You always forget to eat in the morning, Torao.”

Law sighed through his nose, pinching the bridge before rubbing at his temple. Luffy was probably the only reason he hadn’t snapped and quit this charade already.

A few floors above, he could already hear the telltale thud of Luffy moving around—probably getting dressed in the most chaotic way possible. Law could picture it perfectly: Luffy hopping on one foot, wrestling with his uniform while also shoving another piece of toast into his mouth, completely unbothered by the passing of time.

It was ridiculous. And yet, Law felt himself relax, just a little.

Law grabbed the small white bottle from his nightstand, flipping the cap open with his thumb. He shook out a single pill and held it between his fingers, studying it for a second before tossing it into his mouth. Dry swallowing wasn’t pleasant, but he was used to it. The bitterness slid down his throat, settling into the routine numbness that made the day more bearable.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pocketed the bottle, and slung his bag over his shoulder before stepping out of his room.

The dorms were already buzzing with morning activity. Voices echoed from the common area, and the scent of food drifted in from the kitchen—coffee, eggs, something sugary. He made his way downstairs, keeping his expression neutral as he scanned the room.

Bakugo was at the counter, aggressively buttering toast like it had personally insulted him. Kirishima leaned against the island, laughing at something Sero was saying while Ashido swiped a piece of fruit from Kaminari’s plate. Todoroki sat by the window with a cup of tea, staring blankly at the floor like he was still half-asleep. Midoriya had his notebook out, muttering as he scribbled something. Probably hero analysis. Again.

Law would have walked straight past them all, but he never got the chance.

A blur of red and black shot toward him, and before he could sidestep, strong arms wrapped around his waist, and warm lips collided with his.

“Morning, Torao!”

Law grunted as Luffy’s weight nearly knocked him off balance. He barely had time to exhale before Luffy pulled back, grinning up at him with the kind of energy no person should have at this hour.

“Didja sleep good?" Luffy laughed, rubbing his nose against Law’s cheek before pulling back completely.

“You’re so loud in the morning,” Law muttered, wiping his mouth, but the corner of his lips twitched despite himself.

Luffy beamed. “’Cause I’m happy to see you.”

“You saw me six hours ago.”

“Yeah, and?”

Law rolled his eyes and nudged Luffy off him, though he didn’t shove him away entirely. Across the room, he caught Kaminari watching them with a stupid grin, while Kirishima whispered something to Sero, both of them snickering. Even Uraraka and Asui were peeking from the kitchen, trying to act casual.

He ignored them. He and Luffy were the only couple in Class 1-A. It had been big news for about a week, mostly because no one had actually believed Law was capable of dating someone. But once the initial shock wore off, his classmates got bored and moved on to more important things—like their own deeply repressed feelings.

Law was observant. It was a necessity. And it was painfully obvious that half his classmates had crushes on each other but were emotionally stunted enough to do absolutely nothing about it.

Kirishima and Bakugo were the most obvious case. The way Kirishima’s entire face lit up whenever Bakugo spoke was embarrassing to watch, and Bakugo, for all his yelling, never actually pushed Kirishima away. Then there was Midoriya, who was either oblivious or in denial about how much he liked Todoroki, because the guy could sneeze, and Midoriya would write a ten-page analysis on how majestic it was. Even Jirou and Momo had a thing, but neither of them seemed willing to do anything beyond lingering stares and awkward conversations.

It was pathetic.

But it was also entertaining.

“Oi, Trafalgar,” Bakugo called from the counter, waving a butter knife at him. “Tell your damn boyfriend to stop clinging to you and eat his damn breakfast.”

Luffy snickered but didn’t let go of Law entirely. “You sound grumpy, BoomBoy. Maybe you need a morning kiss too.”

Bakugo’s entire body bristled. “THE HELL I DO—”

“Aw, don’t be shy!” Kaminari teased. “Kirishima would—”

Bakugo threw the butter knife. Kaminari yelped. Kirishima caught it midair and sighed.

Law sighed, too, because it was too early for this nonsense.

Luffy tugged at his arm. “C’mon, let’s eat!”

Law let himself be pulled along, feeling the familiar fog settle in his mind from the pill he had taken earlier. Everything was muted, dulled around the edges.

No one ever noticed.

Law absently stirred his coffee, watching the liquid swirl as he tuned out the conversation happening beside him. Luffy and Ashido were deep in discussion, their words blending into the background noise of the common room. The topic of the morning—internships.

He sighed.

The internship program was a mandatory part of U.A.’s curriculum, a chance for students to gain real-world experience under pro heroes. Normally, he wouldn’t care. He’d find some barely competent hero willing to sign off on his participation and spend the week doing the bare minimum. But luck was never on his side.

Despite the recent attacks, U.A. was still moving forward with the program. Law found it insane that the school insisted on sending students out after what had already happened.

The first attack at the USJ had been chaotic. No one had expected Blackbeard to crash into their training exercise, bringing his crew of criminals and mercenaries along for the ride. It was a brutal wake-up call—heroes weren’t untouchable, and villains weren’t going to wait for them to be ready. The teachers had managed to push them back.

Then, just weeks ago, the class had barely survived another attack—this time at their training camp, when Enel and his so-called priests descended from the sky like vengeful gods. The man had called himself a deity, his lightning-based Quirk giving weight to his delusions. Law still remembered the blinding flashes, the sound of thunder cracking too close, and the smell of burned wood and ozone in the air. They had fought, survived, but it left a mark.

And now, as if nothing had happened, the school was pushing forward with its curriculum like they weren’t walking targets.

Law took a sip of his coffee, barely suppressing the urge to scoff.

“Who are you gonna intern with, Torao?” Luffy asked, swinging his legs under the table as he stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth.

Law shot him a look. “Don’t call me that.”

Luffy grinned. “C’mon, pick someone cool! Oh! What if we go to the same agency? That’d be fun!”

“Pass.”

“Eh? You don’t even know where I’m going yet.”

“I don’t care.”

Luffy pouted dramatically, but Ashido cut in before he could start whining. “Seriously though, Law, who are you interning with?” she asked. “You’re top of the class in combat, so, like, you have your pick, right?”

Law glanced at her, unimpressed. “Doesn’t mean I want to waste my time playing sidekick.”

Ashido shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but it’s kind of required.”

Law sighed again. She wasn’t wrong. He had no choice but to participate.

He had options—plenty of them. Pro heroes had been reaching out even before the internship program officially started. Sengoku had offered to set something up for him, but Law refused to let his so-called guardian control that aspect of his life, too.

His fingers drummed against the table as he considered his choices. Most pro heroes weren’t worth his time. Too flashy, too self-absorbed, too interested in sponsorship deals instead of actual hero work.

Then there were the ones he couldn’t trust. The ones too close to Doflamingo.

Law’s eyes flickered across the room, scanning his classmates. Some were excited about the internships, others indifferent, a few nervous. Most of them had no idea how deep the corruption ran in the hero world. They still thought heroes were heroes and villains were villains.

Idiots.

He wasn’t like them. He knew better.

The hero system was rotten. He was just using it until he didn’t have to anymore.

Across from him, Luffy was still watching him expectantly, head tilted in curiosity. Law shook his head. He’d deal with the internship issue later. Right now, he had breakfast to finish. And maybe, if he let Luffy keep talking, he’d come up with an answer that didn’t make him want to throw his coffee at the wall.

Luffy shoved another piece of toast into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically before speaking—crumbs spraying everywhere.

“I’m gonna intern with Rayleigh!” he announced, grinning like he had already won something.

Law didn’t react. He just took another sip of his coffee, letting the warmth sit heavy on his tongue before swallowing. He had expected Luffy to say something like that.

Rayleigh was a former top-tier pro hero, now retired. A legend. Most people considered him one of the strongest heroes of his time—an old man with enough experience to make even the cockiest up-and-comer think twice. He didn’t take interns. He didn’t need to. But if anyone could convince him otherwise, it was Luffy.

Law just listened.

“Shanks said he’d put in a good word for me!” Luffy continued, grinning so wide it looked painful. “Not that I need it. I’ll just show up, and he’ll totally take me!”

Ashido leaned forward, wide-eyed. “Wait, wait, Silver Rayleigh? The Dark King? The guy who literally just vanished from the hero world?”

“Yup!”

She blinked. “You do know he hasn’t taken an intern in, like, ever, right?”

Luffy just laughed. “I’ll change that!”

Ashido opened her mouth, probably to say something about how impossible that sounded, but stopped. It was Luffy, after all. The guy had a way of making things happen just by sheer stubbornness.

Law didn’t say anything. He watched as Luffy kept talking, throwing his hands in the air, explaining how cool Rayleigh was, how he’d learn so much, how it was going to be the best internship ever.

He wasn’t surprised.

Rayleigh wasn’t a bad choice. In fact, if Luffy was serious about being a firefighter, the old man would probably be a good mentor. He had skills, experience, and wasn’t tied to any of the corruption rotting the hero system from the inside.

And most importantly—he was far, far away from Doflamingo.

Law’s fingers tightened around his coffee cup.

It was fine. Luffy could do whatever he wanted. He’d be safe.

“Torao.”

Law blinked, realizing Luffy was staring at him. So was Ashido.

“What?” he said flatly.

Luffy pouted. “You’re making that face again.”

“What face.”

“The grumpy one.”

“That’s just my face.”

Luffy squinted at him suspiciously, then shrugged and reached over, stealing a piece of egg off Law’s plate.

Law let him.

Ashido clasped her hands together dramatically. “You two are way too cute. It’s actually unfair.”

Law didn’t dignify that with a response.

Instead, he focused on finishing his food, deliberately tuning out whatever nonsense she and Luffy were about to spew next. He had learned long ago that acknowledging their antics only made them worse.

Luffy, of course, didn’t help. “Right? Traffy’s the best!” he said, stretching his arm across the table to poke his cheek . “He acts all grumpy, but he loves me.”

Law gently removed his hand, despite everything . “Eat your food, idiot.”

Ashido giggled, and Kaminari, who had apparently been listening from the other table, turned around with a knowing smirk. “Man, I still can’t believe you two are actually dating. It’s like a grumpy cat and an overexcited golden retriever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Law muttered, standing up and taking his empty plate. He didn’t need to sit here and listen to them analyze his relationship like some kind of science experiment. He had dishes to wash.

As he walked over to the sink, he felt a familiar presence beside him.

“Good morning, Law,” Bepo greeted softly, setting his own dishes down.

Law glanced at him. “Morning.”

Bepo was the only tolerable person in this school aside from Luffy. His best friend. The one person who knew exactly why Law was here and what his real goal was.

Unlike the rest of their classmates—who were blissfully unaware of how broken the hero system really was—Bepo understood. He didn’t try to stop Law, didn’t try to talk him out of anything. He simply stood beside him.

The two washed their dishes in silence for a moment before Bepo spoke again.

“Have you decided where you’re interning?” he asked quietly.

Law didn’t answer right away. He focused on scrubbing his plate, watching the water swirl down the drain.

“I have a few ideas,” he finally said.

Bepo didn’t push for more. He just nodded. “I’ll be wherever you need me.”

Law’s grip tightened around the dish.

He didn’t deserve Bepo.

But he was selfish enough to keep him anyway.

The morning air was crisp as the students filtered out of the dorms, making their way toward the main U.A. building. The usual chatter filled the space—Kaminari whining about having to be awake, Iida reminding everyone to move in an orderly fashion, Todoroki quietly existing, and Bakugo already looking like he was seconds away from blowing someone up.

Law sighed. Another day of student torture.

His mind was comfortably numb, the effects of his morning pill dulling the sharp edges of his thoughts. It wasn’t enough to make him sluggish—just enough to get through the day without spiraling into irritation or frustration. He could handle a few hours of hero propaganda before retreating back to the safety of his room.

As they walked, he felt a warm, familiar touch at his side.

Luffy had taken his hand, fingers curling carefully around his own.

It was subtle, but intentional.

Law knew why.

His fingers, covered in makeup, concealed something U.A. would never approve of. The word DEATH inked across his knuckles—one letter on each finger, an unspoken truth he had carried long before stepping into this school.

Of course, tattoos were banned for students. Something about professionalism and maintaining a heroic image. Bullshit.

He had been forced to hide them from day one, covering his hands with makeup every morning, making sure no one would ever see what was permanently etched into his skin. It was a tedious routine, but necessary. The last thing he needed was some teacher pulling him aside for a “talk.”

Luffy never said much about it. He just understood.

His touch was careful, mindful not to smudge the makeup, but still firm. Still grounding.

Law glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Luffy was grinning, as usual, eyes bright and carefree. Like he didn’t have a single worry in the world.

It was a lie.

Luffy had worries. Fears. Burdens. He just carried them differently.

And right now, he was carrying Law’s too.

Law exhaled slowly, letting Luffy hold his hand as they walked toward another grueling day of pretending to be a hero.

Law stepped into the classroom with the same enthusiasm as a man walking toward the gallows.

The bright chatter of his classmates filled the space, and he ignored all of it. At this point, he had mastered the art of selective hearing.

He made his way to his usual seat near the middle of the room, sinking into his chair with practiced indifference. Luffy plopped down on his right, immediately leaning back with his arms stretched behind his head, exuding the carefree energy that made Law simultaneously envious and exhausted.

Bepo took his seat on Law’s left, calm and composed as always. His presence was steady, a quiet contrast to the controlled chaos around them.

Law let out a slow breath. At least he was positioned between the only two tolerable people in the school.

Across the room, Iida was already lecturing Kaminari and Sero about something undoubtedly useless, Tokoyami was brooding dramatically, and Ashido and Uraraka were whispering to each other, throwing occasional glances toward the boys in the class—probably gossiping about some love triangle that didn’t exist.

Law ignored them all.

The only relief in his day came in the form of one teacher—Aizawa.

The man was the least unpleasant authority figure in U.A., mostly because he didn’t give a damn about anything beyond making sure no one got themselves killed. Unlike the rest of the staff, who were insufferably enthusiastic about hero work, Aizawa had the good sense to be tired of everything.

He didn’t try to force Law to “engage more” or be “a team player” or “express himself positively.” He didn’t care that Law wasn’t friends with anyone besides Luffy and Bepo. He didn’t bother him with unnecessary pep talks or forced social interactions.

Aizawa didn’t try to fix him.

And for that, Law could tolerate him.

The classroom door slid open, and the man himself stepped inside, looking as dead inside as ever. His hair was a tangled mess, his capture weapon wrapped loosely around his neck, and his bloodshot eyes scanned the room with the weariness of a man who regretted every life decision that led him here.

“Sit down,” Aizawa muttered.

Most of the class was already seated, but a few stragglers hurried to their places.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright. Internships. Let’s get this over with.”

Law rested his chin on his hand, half-listening.

As Aizawa continued speaking, Law’s mind drifted.

Internships.

A pointless exercise for most of his classmates, a chance to idolize pro heroes and fetch coffee while pretending they were learning something valuable. But for him? It was an opportunity.

If he had to suffer through days of being some hero’s glorified errand boy, he might as well play his cards right. There had to be someone in the hero community who was close enough to Doflamingo’s operations—someone with connections, someone who unknowingly had access to the information Law needed.

The right internship could put him one step closer.

He needed to be strategic. A hero tied to the underground, someone with enough authority to track Doflamingo’s movements but not so self-righteous that they’d question Law’s motives.

His fingers tapped against his desk.

Penguin could help.

The idiot might joke around too much, but he was skilled—his systems knowledge was useful in ways their teachers would never acknowledge. He could dig up files, skim through encrypted data, piece together a clearer picture of Doflamingo’s operations without drawing attention.

Law would ask him to start tonight.

He wasn’t reckless—despite what most people assumed. He wouldn’t move too soon, wouldn’t strike unless necessary. Killing Doflamingo wasn’t about revenge alone; it was about ensuring he never hurt anyone again.

But if the moment came—if he had the chance to end it—he would.

He leaned back in his chair, gaze unfocused.

For now, he just needed to find the right hero.

And he had to do it before Aizawa forced him into an internship with some useless pro whose greatest accomplishment was making an iced latte.

Chapter 2

Law moved through the wide, polished hallways of U.A. with measured steps, keeping his gaze forward, avoiding eye contact with the few students loitering around. The bell for lunch had rung just minutes ago, so the halls were mostly empty, save for the occasional latecomer rushing toward the cafeteria.

Luffy had bolted the moment the class ended, dragging Bepo along by the arm with a cheerful, “Let’s eat!” echoing down the corridor. Law hadn’t even tried to stop him. Food came first for Luffy, and Bepo—despite his quiet demeanor—wasn’t exactly hard to convince.

Law, on the other hand, had something more important in mind than soggy rice bowls and cafeteria noise.

He turned down a side hallway, following the signs toward the support department’s wing. It was quieter here—always buzzing with the low hum of machinery, but far removed from the main student traffic.

The moment he entered the workshop, he was hit by the distinct smell of heated metal, oil, and something vaguely plastic. Sparks flew from a station in the corner where a girl with welding goggles was working on some kind of leg armor, and a group of students nearby were bent over a blueprint, arguing quietly over stabilizer placements.

Law scanned the room once before spotting him.

Sorin Peregrine.

Or, as everyone knows him, Penguin.

He was hunched over his own workstation in the back, working on what looked like a high-tech backpack with compartments that whirred open and shut. His hands moved quickly and confidently, despite the penguin-like flippers that sometimes replaced them when his Quirk was activated.

Law crossed the room with ease, weaving through tables and tool carts until he stopped beside him.

Penguin didn’t look up. “You’re not here for social reasons,” he said flatly.

“Nope,” Law replied.

A moment passed. Penguin finally glanced up, a grin tugging at his lips.

“What’s the mission?”

Law leaned against the table, folding his arms. His voice dropped slightly as he spoke, but he kept his tone casual enough that no one would think twice.

“I need you to find me a... blueprint.”

Penguin raised an eyebrow. “A blueprint.”

“A very specific one,” Law said, glancing around to make sure no one was too close. “Something that tracks movements in... shady construction zones. You know, places that keep getting remodeled without official permits. I want to help a contractor who's looking to improve that sector.”

Penguin snorted. “Ah, the kind of contractor who never files paperwork. Dangerous line of work.”

“Exactly. The kind that needs to be retired.”

Penguin nodded slowly, his expression shifting into something more serious.

“You want me to find someone who’s already keeping tabs on those blueprints?” he asked, eyes flicking down to his tablet. “Someone who's in the field. Knows the layout. But doesn’t report to the same... construction company.”

“Bingo,” Law murmured. “Someone close, but not involved. I want in. As a helper, obviously. Might be able to tweak some equipment for the cause.”

Penguin’s grin returned. “You’re lucky I like puzzles.”

Law smirked, but didn’t reply.

He didn’t need Penguin to know how badly he needed this. How close he felt, how tight the timeline really was.

They weren’t just friends. Penguin, Bepo, and Shachi were his brothers, the only real family he had left after everything. They had lived under Wolf’s roof for a long time—an old man with a sharp tongue and a heart big enough to take in four broken kids with nothing but scars and dreams of revenge.

Law didn’t have to explain the details. Penguin already knew.

“I’ll send you names tonight,” Penguin said, already tapping away on his screen. “Check your burner.”

Law gave a single nod. “Make it fast.”

He turned to leave, pausing just long enough to glance at the piece of tech on Penguin’s workbench.

“Is that a heat sensor?”

“A flying one,” Penguin replied proudly. “It waddles.”

Law rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the flicker of amusement that passed through him.

He headed out of the workshop, back toward the cafeteria. Time to retrieve Bepo before Luffy tried feeding him dessert after three trays of curry.

Law stepped back into the cafeteria, the sharp, clean lighting and the low roar of a hundred conversations pressing down on his senses. The air smelled of fried food, overcooked noodles, and too-sweet desserts. His eyes scanned the crowded tables with instinctual disinterest until they landed on the mess of black hair and a loud laugh he could recognize anywhere.

Luffy.

There he was, sitting dead center among what had been unofficially dubbed the Deku Squad—Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, Asui and Todoroki. Bepo was there too, his white fur standing out among the group as he sat calmly with his own tray, delicately eating rice with chopsticks like a proper gentleman.

Meanwhile, Luffy had apparently decided his tray wasn’t enough and was reaching over to steal a dumpling from Iida’s plate.

“I told you to ask first, Monkey!” Iida protested, arms flailing as if it were a formal offense against society itself.

“I asked with my eyes,” Luffy replied through a mouthful of food, completely unapologetic.

Uraraka giggled, while Todoroki didn’t even flinch—he was probably used to it by now. Midoriya looked like he wanted to say something but also wanted to keep all his dumplings.

Law sighed inwardly and walked toward the table, hands in his pockets.

His boyfriend was too damn sociable.

He didn’t understand how someone like Luffy could be so open, so obnoxiously friendly to everyone. Didn’t he get tired? Or annoyed? Or suspicious?

Apparently not.

As Law approached, Luffy spotted him instantly and waved with both arms like he was calling over a long-lost friend rather than someone he literally slept beneath every night.

“Torao!! You’re back!” he beamed. “We saved you a spot!”

Bepo nodded at him and shifted slightly to make space, always the considerate one.

Law muttered a thank-you and sat down, carefully placing his hands in his lap, where no one could see the faint smudges on his fingers where his makeup was already wearing off.

Luffy grinned at him like he hadn’t seen him in years. “Where’d you go?”

“Support wing,” Law said curtly.

Luffy nodded, already returning to shoveling food into his mouth at full speed.

Beside him, Midoriya leaned over with curious eyes. “You know someone there? They are really talented. Remember Hatsume? She was amazing at the Sports Festival..."

Law shot him a look that shut the conversation down before it could fully form.

Midoriya gave a sheepish laugh and returned to poking at his noodles.

Law exhaled, gaze drifting to Luffy again. He watched as his boyfriend happily babbled between bites, easily swinging between talking to Bepo and Todoroki and then back to Uraraka like he had infinite energy to spare.

And for some reason—some reason—he loved him anyway.

God help him.

The lunch hour bled on with the ease and warmth of routine. Luffy kept bouncing between conversations, asking Todoroki if ice could be used to chill watermelon “from the inside,” and poking Bepo in the cheek every time the bear-boy looked too serious while chewing.

Law sat in the middle of it, not quite joining in, but present enough that no one questioned his silence. He picked at the leftovers on Luffy’s tray with an idle fork, mostly ignoring the conversations unless someone addressed him directly—at which point he responded with one-word answers or prolonged eye contact until they retreated.

Still, the Deku Squad didn’t seem to mind. If anything, they seemed used to it. Midoriya had long ago stopped trying to “get Law to open up,” and Iida had once given a passionate monologue about respecting people’s boundaries after Law nearly stabbed a student with a chopstick when the student almost thrown his food on him.

Asui, calm as ever, just offered him a grape once, and when Law blinked at her, she croaked, “You looked hungry.” That was the end of it.

He didn't hate them, not really. They just weren’t necessary.

But Luffy was.

Law’s eyes softened as he watched him laugh at something Bepo said—something quiet and dry that only Luffy would find hilarious. The guy had rice on his cheek and didn’t notice until Bepo reached over with a napkin to wipe it off.

Ridiculous, Law thought. And mine.

The bell rang, sharp and piercing. Chairs scraped against the floor as the group stood up, stacking trays and chatting about the upcoming training block.

“Combat drills again?” Todoroki asked.

“No, Aizawa said rescue training,” Midoriya replied, practically buzzing. “He mentioned new scenarios.”

“Ugh,” Uraraka muttered, stretching her arms. “I always get stuck in the ‘flooded building’ one. It’s the worst.”

Luffy linked his arm through Law’s as they walked back toward the classrooms.

“Hey, wanna be on my team again?”

“No,” Law replied instantly.

“Great!” Luffy chirped, missing the rejection entirely. “You’re the best at fake-blood pressure points!”

God, I want to sleep for three days, Law thought, dragging his feet toward another round of pretend heroics.

Class resumed and ticked by like molasses. Aizawa droned on without passion, which suited Law just fine. Rescue strategy, terrain response, injury protocols—half of it he already knew, and the rest he filed away with dull disinterest.

Luffy sat beside him, sketching a doodle of a flaming meatball in the margins of his notebook. Bepo was quietly writing something neat and precise, his ears flicking occasionally in thought.

Finally, at long last, classes ended.

They gathered their things and headed toward the training field.

Law dragged his feet, eyeing the sun as if he could will it to set early and end the day.

Another hour of simulations, another hour of yelling and running and pretending this mattered. Pretending he cared. Pretending this was all part of some greater dream.

But it wasn’t.

His only dream was warm and sleepy and currently holding his hand as they walked toward their locker rooms.

Soon, Law thought, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Just get through this, and then… room. Bed. Luffy. Warm. Complain until he falls asleep with his face in your chest. That’s all I want.

He sighed, already counting the minutes.

The sun had started its slow descent by the time they reached the training grounds, casting long shadows across the pavement. The wind was cool against Law’s cheeks, but not enough to clear the heavy fog inside his head. The effects of the pill had disappeared by that time, which was an advantage at the time of the fight.

The rest of the class was already stretching and gearing up for the rescue training. Aizawa stood at the far end of the field with his arms crossed, hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Rescue scenario,” he called lazily, “collapsing building. You’ll work in pairs to extract civilians and manage potential aftershocks. The civilians won’t be real, obviously..."

Then he started pairing up the entire class. Everyone got along, so there were no complaints, until Bakugo was paired with Kaminari. Bakugo muttered something vulgar under his breath and stomped toward the equipment pile.

“Monkey and Trafalgar." Aizawa added flatly.

Luffy turned to Law, eyes shining. “We’re a team again!”

“Fantastic,” Law muttered.

“I bet this time I can carry two dummies on my back!”

“They’re not real people,” Law reminded him.

“Exactly! So it doesn’t count as endangerment!”

Law said nothing. He was saving his energy.

They were given a time limit and basic instructions. The training zone had been set up to resemble a city block mid-collapse—cracked concrete, toppled beams, crumbled walls, and fake fires flickering in corner barrels.

Luffy threw himself into it with full enthusiasm, barreling forward with a giant grin and zero hesitation. Law followed behind at a slower pace, scanning for structural weaknesses and potential hazard points, already trying to calculate the fastest way through.

They worked well together—annoyingly well. Luffy’s impulsive energy offset Law’s cold precision, and they balanced each other like instinct. Luffy dug through the rubble while Law coordinated from behind, calling out instructions and occasionally yanking his partner out of falling debris.

Somewhere in the chaos, Bepo passed by carrying a “civilian” over his shoulder like a fluffy, stoic firefighter. Todoroki and Midoriya were using ice and air pressure to carefully remove a blocked hallway.

By the time the whistle blew and Aizawa called the exercise, Law was sweating and already mentally packing his bag.

Luffy flopped onto the grass beside him, arms spread wide and eyes to the sky. “That was fun!”

Law grunted. “You nearly dropped a concrete slab on your foot.”

“But I didn’t.”

Bepo walked over, handing Law a water bottle. “You were sharp today,” he said softly.

“I’m always sharp.”

“Hmm.”

They lingered while the others wrapped up, chatting and rehydrating. Todoroki stood with his arms crossed, his shirt damp with sweat, while Midoriya tried to explain rescue flowcharts to Kaminari using a twig in the dirt.

Eventually, Aizawa gave a lazy wave, signaling the end of training.

Everyone groaned and shuffled back toward the dorms, their energy finally waning.

Law walked quietly beside Luffy, their shoulders brushing.

“You okay?” Luffy asked, tone uncharacteristically gentle.

“Tired,” Law muttered. “Just want to lie down.”

Luffy smiled. “My bed’s always open.”

“I’m going to my own,” Law said. “You can visit.”

“You mean invade.”

“I mean exist near me while I complain about how much I hate everything.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“For you, maybe.”

Still, as they walked into the dorm building, climbed the stairs, and passed their classmates’ noisy rooms, Law felt his heart ease. He already knew the night’s plan—he’d kick off his shoes, lie on his bed, and five minutes later, Luffy would crawl in from above, uninvited and barefoot.

And Law would let him.

He’d curl up beside him and mumble about how he wanted to drop out, stab a pro hero, or fake his death to move to the countryside. Luffy would listen and nod and maybe offer him a cookie.

And for a few hours, the world would be quiet.

And that was enough.

Law barely had time to pull the sweatshirt over his head when he heard the telltale thud of footsteps above—Luffy’s room. Then, the familiar creak of the floorboards. The soft groan of his ceiling. He had three seconds.

“One—”

CRASH.

The window cracked open just a hair before a blur of black curls and boundless energy launched itself through the air.

“TORAOOOO!”

“Shit—!”

Law staggered back as Luffy tackled him full-force onto the bed, arms locking around his waist like an overexcited golden retriever in human form. The two of them bounced slightly on the mattress before settling, Law glaring up at the ceiling in resigned silence as Luffy buried his face in his chest with a triumphant hum.

“I just changed into pajamas,” Law muttered.

“I just changed into being here,” Luffy replied, muffled against his shirt.

“You have a door, you know.”

“Too slow.”

Law huffed, pushing his boyfriend’s head slightly so he could breathe. “You’re going to knock my spine out of alignment.”

“I’ll fix it. I’ll kiss it better.”

“Disgusting.”

“Romantic.”

“You drooled on me last time.”

“I always drool on you. That’s part of my charm.”

Law rolled his eyes and allowed Luffy to stay exactly where he was, because fighting him off was both impossible and, truthfully, not something he wanted to do anyway. He let his hand rest on Luffy’s curls, threading through them slowly.

Luffy made a satisfied noise and nuzzled into his chest. “You were amazing today during training. Super brainy and cool.”

“I nearly fractured my ankle.”

“Still cool. Like a tragic antihero with a limp.”

Law didn’t respond. He just breathed, letting the hum in his mind settle a little more. The medication always left him fuzzy by the evening, which wasn’t ideal—but being wrapped up in Luffy, no matter how annoying and loud and affectionate he was, helped more than he’d admit out loud.

“I hate this school,” Law mumbled into Luffy’s hair.

“I know.”

“I hate the fake smiles. The system. The way people try to fix you with positivity.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I hate these uniforms.”

“Okay.”

“I hate literally everyone but you, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi.”

“I can live with that.”

“And I swear to god, if that bastard Doflamingo doesn’t die screaming under my hands, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Luffy pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, serious now, pupils bright with something calm and unwavering.

“You won’t lose your mind,” he said simply. “You’ll make it. You’ll do what you have to do. I’ll be there.”

Law blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden weight of those words. Then he frowned.

“You’re really bad at comforting people.”

“I know.” Luffy smiled again. “But I’m really good at hugging them.”

And then he rolled over and yanked the blanket up, dragging Law down with him like a sleepy sea creature burrowing into warm sand.

“Let’s sleep,” Luffy murmured.

“It’s barely nine.”

“Sleep is good for revenge. Trust me.”

Law shook his head softly. But he didn’t fight it.

He curled into Luffy’s side, letting the warmth seep in. Letting the exhaustion win. Letting his guard down—just for tonight.

They stayed like that, tangled under the covers, in the quiet comfort of Law’s dorm room. Luffy’s breathing slowed until it settled into the soft, rhythmic cadence of sleep. Law didn’t fall asleep right away, but he let his eyes close anyway, counting Luffy’s breaths instead of seconds, letting the dull hum of the world beyond the walls fade away. He wasn’t used to peace—not the real kind—but this… this was the closest he’d gotten in years.

Hours must’ve passed. The sky outside the window had shifted to the soft hues of twilight, casting pale blue shadows across the floor. Law’s phone, left facedown on his nightstand, vibrated once.

Sharp, brief.

Law’s eyes snapped open instantly.

He reached over without disturbing Luffy too much—though the boy merely snorted and turned in his sleep, draping an arm over Law’s waist like a weighted anchor.

Unlock. Message. Penguin.

[P]: 5 possibles. check ur mail. folder “shady hero dads”

Law rolled his eyes at the label but felt the rush of alertness sharpen his senses. He sat up slightly, propping himself on one elbow, and opened the file Penguin had attached.

Five names.

All heroes. All close enough to the murkier edges of hero society. All with rumored connections, however small, to criminal investigations involving high-level networks. Doflamingo’s network.

One by one, he skimmed.

1. Smoker – Hero name: White Hunter. Pro-hero known for operating in morally gray areas, mostly in port cities. Aggressive against underground trafficking. Too blunt. Too watched.

2. Magellan – Hero name: Warden. Oversees Tartarus-level operations. Too isolated. His location wouldn’t let Law make any outside moves.

3. Sengoku – already out of the question. His legal guardian. Couldn’t get tangled in that web.

4. Fujitora – Hero name: Blind Justice. Known for balancing justice with mercy. Doesn’t see with his eyes. Sees with everything else. Operates independently and without fear. Has been openly critical of corrupt hero networks. Has crossed paths with Doflamingo before.

5. Vergo – too risky. Rumors said he was a hero, but Law knew better.

He stopped on Fujitora’s file.

The man was respected, almost revered, even among the hero elite. But he didn’t play by their rules. He’d turned down offers from the Hero Commission more than once. His work was clean. Focused. And there were whispers—always whispers—that he was gathering evidence against internal corruption in the Pro Hero network.

Doflamingo’s name had surfaced in connection to several hidden operations that Fujitora had shut down.

If Law could just get close…

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the message icon.

This could work.

It was risky. But calculated.

It wouldn’t be about fetching coffee or polishing boots. Fujitora wasn’t that kind of hero.

It would put him on a path. Closer to the truth. Closer to that final confrontation. Not yet the time to strike—but close enough to dig.

He made a mental note to reply to Penguin later, then set the phone back down.

Next to him, Luffy murmured something in his sleep and curled in tighter.

Law brushed his hair back, just once. Thought of blood and revenge and the life he wanted after all of this. Then he closed his eyes again.

He had two and a half years to survive. And now, maybe… a lead.

The sun hadn’t even begun to pour properly through the curtains when Law was elbowed hard in the ribs.

He grunted sharply, eyes snapping open. “Ow—”

“Mmm?” Luffy blinked sleepily up at him, arm still sprawled over Law’s stomach like he didn’t just jab him like a javelin. “You’re so bony, Torao.”

“That’s because you sleep like a panicking squid,” Law muttered, rubbing his side.

Then, like some perfectly timed personal attack, his alarm screamed to life beside the bed—shrill, obnoxious, and very nearly the last thing that device would ever do. Luffy groaned and rolled away, pulling the covers over his face.

“It’s too early. Let’s skip today. Let’s run away and become melon farmers.”

“You can’t even take care of a cactus,” Law grumbled, reaching over to slap the alarm off. “Besides, I’m not wasting a whole day of hating people just because you’re lazy.”

Luffy peeked out from under the blanket with a wide grin.

"So mean. Say something nice to me or I’ll go cry in Midoriya’s room.”

“I already found someone to intern with.”

That made Luffy sit up with mild surprise, eyes blinking the last of sleep away.

“You did?”

Law nodded, sliding out of bed and he went to his closet to get a towel. "Fujitora. Penguin sent me his file last night. I’ll ask Aizawa to put me on the list today.”

Luffy tilted his head thoughtfully.

“The blind guy with the super gravity quirk?”

“Blind hero with a functioning brain.”

Luffy snorted. “You sure he’s not secretly evil?”

“No. But I’m sure he’s not an idiot. That’s all I need.”

Law left the towel on the bed before taking his uniform out of the closet. Luffy, still sprawled on the bed, watched him with sleepy smile in his face .

“You always act like you hate everything, but you’re actually really smart.”

“I do hate everything. But I’m also a genius. These things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Fujitora’s gonna like you.”

“I’m not looking to be liked,” Law said, finishing taking out his things. “I’m looking to get closer to someone who’ll give me what I need.”

Luffy crawled off the bed and wrapped his arms around Law from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“I hope he’s nice. But if he’s not, I’ll punch him.”

“That’s assault on a pro-hero, Luffy.”

“Love-fueled assault.”

Law gave a long-suffering sigh, but he didn’t pull away.

He stood there for a moment, letting Luffy lean on him, letting himself breathe before another day of pretending to care about school and hero society and whatever other nonsense came with being in Class 1-A.

Maybe this would be the first step that led him to what really mattered.

Chapter 3

Law waited until after morning classes were done, when most of the students were off gossiping about internships in the hallways or hovering around Aizawa’s desk like anxious ducks. He didn’t bother with the crowd. He waited until they trickled away, and once he was sure it was just him and the homeroom teacher left in the room, he stood from his seat and approached.

Aizawa looked up from his paperwork with the expression of a man eternally regretting his life choices.

"Midterms aren't for two weeks," he said, deadpan.

"I’m not here about that," Law replied, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I’ve decided on a hero for the internship."

That got Aizawa’s attention. The man raised a brow, mildly surprised.

“Already? That’s fast.”

“I like to get unpleasant things out of the way early,” Law said simply. “His name is Fujitora.”

Aizawa leaned back slightly, expression unreadable for a moment. “Fujitora?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not on the list of heroes who requested you.”

“I know.”

Aizawa studied him, eyes narrowing just a fraction in that way Law had learned meant ‘I know you’re up to something but I’m too tired to deal with it right now.’

“I saw your performance during the sports festival,” Aizawa said eventually, pulling up the digital tablet where each student’s hero requests and offers were stored. “You impressed a lot of pros. Your quirk is… unique. A lot of them are curious about it. Some of them probably want to find out if they can copy it or counter it.”

“Which is why I won’t be picking from any of them,” Law said, tone dry.

“Right. Because trust is such a strong theme in your personality.”

Law gave him a flat look. “Fujitora’s hero work aligns with what I want to do. He’s not flashy. He doesn’t babysit students. He works outside the Hero Commission’s leash. I want someone with real field experience.”

Aizawa tilted his head slightly, still watching him. “You’ve done your research.”

“Always.”

With a sigh, Aizawa picked up his tablet and began typing. “I’ll send the request. Don’t get your hopes up too much. He rarely takes interns. And he definitely doesn't take them from recommendations alone.”

“I’m not hoping,” Law said. “I’m planning.”

Aizawa didn’t respond, but there was the faintest twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He clicked the request through.

“If he answers, I’ll let you know,” he said. “Until then, try not to cause any international incidents.”

“I’ll try not to talk to anyone.”

“Close enough.”

Law turned and headed out of the room just as Luffy’s voice echoed from the hallway, shouting something about meat buns and gravity quirks. Law’s eye twitched, but a small, quiet grin threatened to pull at his mouth.

One step closer.

Law found Luffy near the vending machines, sitting on top of one as if it were a perfectly normal place to eat a melon bun. Bepo stood nearby, snacking on seaweed chips and trying to explain to Midoriya how his fur worked as insulation against cold climates.

“Toraoooo!” Luffy waved exaggeratedly the moment he saw him, nearly dropping his bun. “Did you talk to Eraserhead?”

Law stopped in front of him, hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I submitted my request.”

Luffy grinned with zero hesitation. “Fujitora’s gonna accept you for sure!”

Law gave him a look. “You don’t know that.”

“I do!” Luffy jumped down from the vending machine with the grace of someone used to falling from rooftops. “He’s strong. You’re strong. You’re both kinda cranky. He’s gonna love you!”

“That’s not how this works, Luffy.”

“Sure it is!” Luffy beamed. “And after you intern with him, you’ll be way closer to Mingo. Then boom! You take him down. Ka-pow. You’re free.”

Law sighed and rubbed his temple. “Can you not narrate my vengeance arc like it’s a Saturday morning cartoon?”

“I’m just excited,” Luffy said with a shrug, then casually added, “I also sent my request.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “To Rayleigh?”

“Yep!”

Law didn’t comment—he’d expected that. Rayleigh had been part of the same generation of heroes as Garp, Luffy’s grandfather, and was known for his work in risky disaster zones. Still, he had to ask, “And how did the old man take it?”

Luffy snorted. “Garp almost had an aneurysm. He wanted me to go with someone with a ‘good reputation’ like Tsuro or Smokey or one of those rule-hugging geezers. Said Rayleigh was a ‘glorified vigilante who teaches kids how to throw knives and vanish in smoke.’”

Law snorted. “He’s not wrong.”

“Then I told him I’d ask Shanks instead, and then he really lost it! I think he broke a chair.”

“Good,” Law said without emotion. “Maybe the next one will be more comfortable.”

Luffy cackled.

Law leaned against the wall, watching the way his boyfriend grinned like the world wasn’t burning behind them. He didn’t let himself smile, but the corners of his mouth twitched in betrayal.

“You’re too optimistic about all this,” he muttered.

“You’re not optimistic enough,” Luffy shot back. “You’re gonna get the internship. You’re gonna get what you want. And when it gets hard…” He stepped close, poking Law gently in the chest. “I’ll be there.”

Law looked at him for a long moment, then huffed softly and turned his head.

“Idiot.”

“I know,” Luffy grinned, already reaching for another melon bun.

Luffy stuffed half of the melon bun into his mouth and offered the rest to Law with the expectant look of a puppy who believed food was love language. Law stared at the chewed pastry for a second before pushing Luffy’s hand away.

“Gross,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his voice.

Luffy only shrugged and popped the rest into his mouth. “You’re grumpy because you skipped dessert again.”

“No,” Law said dryly, “I’m grumpy because I’m a rational person surrounded by emotionally volatile teenagers and caffeine-deprived teachers.”

“And because you haven’t had your daily dose of cuddles,” Luffy added, bumping their shoulders together. “I should fix that later.”

Law rolled his eyes. “You already tackled me last night.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t count, you were in pajama mode.” Luffy looked smug. “The best cuddles happen post-trauma. Like right after a math test.”

Law didn't answer that. Instead, he looked down the hallway toward the classrooms where students were beginning to shuffle out, energized and noisy as always. He hated the chaos, the chatter, the fake smiles people threw around as social currency. But then Luffy nudged him again, casually looping his arm through Law’s as if they were just out for a walk and not standing in the middle of a high school war zone disguised as a hallway.

“You wanna skip cafeteria today?” Luffy asked. “We could sneak snacks up to the roof.”

“I’d rather not get detention two days before internship placements.”

“We’ve had worse,” Luffy said with a wink.

Law sighed but didn’t pull his arm away. “You’re lucky I’ve already planned my whole week around regretting my life choices.”

“That’s the spirit.”

As they walked back toward the classroom to collect their bags, Luffy kept talking—something about how Rayleigh once fought a giant flaming centipede and saved a bus full of kids with nothing but an umbrella and a bottle of soda. Law let the story wash over him like background noise.

Because even if everything felt heavy—his revenge, his future, the looming shadow of Doflamingo—Luffy made it a little easier to carry.

Law stayed still, arms folded under his head, eyes closed but brain very much awake. The sunlight on his face felt good, warming his skin and quieting the twitching nerves behind his eyes. Luffy lay beside him, hands tucked behind his head and one knee bouncing lazily. They didn’t need to talk. That was one of the rare comforts of being with Luffy—he didn’t demand anything from him in moments like this. He was just there. A steady, infuriating, loyal presence.

Law cracked one eye open. “I should’ve told Aizawa I wanted to intern with Buggy. Just to watch his expression.”

Luffy barked a laugh. “He would’ve expelled you on the spot.”

“Worth it,” Law muttered again, then closed his eye.

The breeze shifted, rustling Luffy’s hair and sending a few dried leaves skittering across the rooftop.

“You think Fujitora will really say yes?” Luffy asked after a while, his tone softer now.

“I don’t know,” Law replied honestly. “But he’s the best option. He’s not tied to Doflamingo’s network, but he’s been pushing back against him for years. Quietly. Strategically.”

“You like that,” Luffy said. “The quiet, sneaky stuff.”

“It’s called being smart.”

Luffy rolled onto his side, facing Law. “I think Fujitora will say yes. You're too cool to ignore.”

Law snorted. “Yeah. That's what they call me. Cool and emotionally detached.”

“And hot,” Luffy added, grinning. “Don’t forget hot.”

Law side-eyed him. “Stop talking.”

Luffy kissed his cheek in response.

They lay like that a while longer, warm in the sun and surrounded by the sound of distant classes and city wind. Law let his eyes close again. Just for a minute.

Then the door to the roof slammed open.

“There you are!” Ashido’s voice echoed up in an indignant wail. “Aizawa’s looking for you two!”

Luffy groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back. “We were having a moment!”

Ashido leaned against the doorway with a smirk. “Yeah, well, your moment has about thirty seconds before you’re both marked late for combat drills.”

Law sat up slowly, brushing off his uniform. “Great. Nothing like fighting your over-energetic classmates while mildly sedated.”

Luffy sprang to his feet and offered Law a hand, which he ignored in favor of standing up himself.

As they followed Ashido back down the stairs, Luffy glanced at him and grinned. “Wanna team up and beat Boom Boy again?”

Law didn’t smile, but there was the faintest gleam in his eye. “Obviously.”

“God, you’re romantic.”

“Shut up.”

 

…

 

In the afternoon, once training had ended and Luffy had been dragged off by Midoriya and Uraraka to go over something about group strategies (which Law had promptly ignored), he made his way to the eastern gardens of the school. It was a quiet area behind one of the greenhouses, officially open to all students but rarely visited except by gardening club members or couples sneaking off to make out. Which was probably why Penguin had chosen it.

Penguin was already there, sitting cross-legged on the stone bench with a laptop balanced on one knee and his blazer bunched around him like a cape. A pair of noise-disrupting panels leaned casually against the nearby shrubs, cleverly disguised as gardening equipment. The man might look like a lazy bird with his quirk-generated flippers and sleepy eyes, but he was anything but careless.

Shachi was already there, sitting cross-legged on the grass with his retractable cane resting across his lap. He twirled it between nimble fingers, sometimes clicking it open to the long form, then collapsing it back into its travel size. He didn’t need to see to know when Law arrived.

“Took you long enough,” Shachi said, smirking in Law’s direction. “We almost started placing bets on whether Luffy had tied you to a bed again.”

Penguin huffed a quiet laugh, his back leaned against a tree trunk, laptop open and balanced on one knee. “Don’t tempt him. You know he’s got no shame.”

“Unfortunately,” Law replied dryly.

“Rude,” Penguin muttered, tapping the screen. “You’re the one who’d stab someone if he touched Luffy the wrong way.”

Law shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

“Yo,” he greeted without looking up. “I set the field. No one's listening.”

Law sat down next to him with a soft grunt. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Penguin grinned. “Don’t mention it. Actually, do mention it. I like the recognition.”

Shachi whistled. “Damn, you’re fancy.”

Penguin turned the laptop toward him, displaying a series of profiles and blurry surveillance images, some clearly taken from public footage, others less publicly accessible.

“So,” Penguin began, voice lower now, “you were right to go for Fujitora. He’s been working solo for a while, but the hero commission keeps him in the loop. More than that, he’s been investigating corruption cases inside the hero system—quietly.”

Law leaned in, scanning the images. One showed Fujitora shaking hands with an official outside a courthouse. Another showed him mid-fight with some no-name villain. But the one that caught Law’s attention was a satellite map with red marks and a small photo of Doflamingo, smiling like a man who knew he couldn’t be touched.

“These red points,” Penguin continued, “are areas where Fujitora has been stationed or sent in for evaluation missions. And guess who’s been sighted within five kilometers of three of them?”

Law’s eyes narrowed. “Doflamingo.”

“Bingo.”

Shachi stood, stretching. “So, you think this guy’s baiting him? Trying to see what Fujitora will do?”

“Or Fujitora’s circling in,” Penguin said. “He’s patient. Methodical. But he’s got power, and he’s not blind to what’s going on. Just careful.”

“That’s more than I can say for half the people in the hero business,” Law muttered.

Shachi ask. “What’s the plan, then?”

“I intern with him,” Law said, fingers tightening around the edge of the bench. “I earn his trust. I observe. I find out how close he is to uncovering Doflamingo's network. And if he’s getting there, I stay. If not…”

“If not?” Penguin asked, though he already knew.

Law’s eyes were cold. “I accelerate things.”

Shachi let out a low whistle.

Penguin nodded, tapping a few keys to delete the files. “Just don’t get killed. We like you too much.”

“I’ll do my best,” Law said flatly.

The moment passed, quiet and steady, like the hush before a storm. Law stayed seated a while longer, his mind busy with connections and probabilities, watching as the last of the sun filtered through the greenhouse glass, throwing jagged gold across the dirt path.

“You told Aizawa?” Penguin asked after a beat, already knowing the answer.

“I did,” Law said. “This morning.”

Shachi tilted his head, frowning. “Was he cool about it?”

Law gave a small, bitter smirk. “He said Fujitora hadn’t requested any interns and I shouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“But he’s still sending the request,” Penguin said.

“Yeah. Which means I’ve got a window.” Law stood and dusted his hands off. “Aizawa wouldn’t have let me submit the name if he thought it was a waste of time.”

Shachi twirled his cane one more time before collapsing it with a click and sliding it into the strap across his back. “Guess we better start prepping your internship gear. You’re going to need more than that sleek uniform of yours if you’re walking into Fujitora’s territory.”

“I’m not packing for a vacation,” Law said, but he didn’t protest.

Penguin stood too, hoisting his laptop and flicking off the audio shields with a soft bzzt. “I’ll run another pass on the network tonight. If Fujitora is this close to Doffy, he might already be drawing attention. The last thing you need is to get caught in a trap just because you’re wearing the wrong badge.”

Law gave a small nod. “I’ll meet you tomorrow after lunch. I want to review the south docks again.”

“You think they’re still using that route?” Penguin asked, already swiping through files.

“I think they’re desperate enough to recycle old ones,” Law muttered. “And I think Doflamingo’s watching to see who notices.”

Shachi yawned and stretched again. “Man, I thought high school was supposed to be the relaxing part of our lives.”

“You could have chosen a different school,” Law said, expression flat.

“Yeah, but then I’d miss all this fun cloak-and-dagger stuff,” Shachi grinned, looping his arm around Law’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go find something edible. If I eat one more vending machine bar I’m going to start seeing through time.”

Penguin leaned back against the tree again, arms crossed behind his head, looking more like a sleepy student than someone who had just laid out a surveillance network with precision worthy of a pro hero. “So, what's Luffy think of all this?” he asked, like it was a side note and not the obvious question hanging in the air.

Law exhaled, shoulders tight. “He’s Luffy. He thinks we’re going to take Doflamingo down by next semester and then go celebrate with grilled meat and fireworks.”

Shachi snorted. “That sounds about right.”

“But he also knows it’s dangerous,” Law added. His voice dropped slightly. “He’s not stupid. He plays dumb sometimes, but when it matters—he sees everything. He told me he’d stay out of it. Said he didn’t want to ‘steal my thunder.’” A pause. “He looked like he was lying.”

Penguin whistled low. “Yikes. You’re never going to be able to keep him out of this, y’know. It’s Luffy. You could tell him not to jump in front of a train and he’d still throw himself in if someone he cares about was on the tracks.”

“I know,” Law murmured, running a hand down his face. “That’s what scares me.”

The wind rustled the trees around them, soft and warm, carrying the smell of soil and sun-warmed stone. For a moment, none of them spoke.

Shachi broke the silence, as always. “Alright, so what do we do next? Sit on our hands until the commission sends you the paperwork?”

“No,” Law said, straightening up. “Penguin, I need you to look into the Hero Commission’s current travel authorizations. Who’s moving, who’s being rotated, and more importantly—who’s being kept in place. Look for gaps. Missing names. Places they’re deliberately not assigning someone to.”

Penguin nodded slowly. “Yeah. Could be where Doflamingo's influence is strongest. A blind spot.”

“Exactly,” Law said. “I don’t think the commission’s completely compromised, but someone high up is protecting him. Or at least letting him move. If I can find the cracks, I can start pulling.”

Shachi glanced between them, flipping his cane back into its collapsed state and tucking it under one arm. “Guess I better polish my field support license. You’re gonna need someone to patch you up when you get punched in the face.”

“I thought that’s what Luffy was for,” Penguin said with a crooked smile.

Law rolled his eyes. “Luffy punches people in the face. He does not prevent face-punching.”

The garden quiet around them again. Law looked up, sunlight filtering through the leaves and painting shifting shadows across his shoes.

“Thanks,” he said, quietly, sincerely.

“You don’t have to thank us,” Shachi said, brushing dirt from his pants. “We’re your friends. You’re stuck with us.”

Penguin grinned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go. If we’re late for curfew again, that nosy hall monitor is gonna mark us for detention.”

“And then we’ll never hear the end of it,” Shachi groaned. “What’s her name again? The one with the fungus quirk?”

“Kinoko,” Law muttered.

“Oh God, Mushroom Girl. She’s terrifying.”

They slipped out of the garden one by one, blending back into the campus like just another group of students, when in truth, they were already plotting a war.

They walked back slowly through the growing dark, the campus quieter now, shadows lengthening across the ground. The cold air smelled faintly of wood and copper, like old leaves and newer secrets.

By the time they reached the main building again, the lights of Class 1-A’s dorms were starting to flicker on, soft squares of gold against the growing night. Penguin peeled off first, vanishing with a wave toward his wing of the building. Shachi nudged Law once in the ribs before heading off too.

Law lingered at the entrance for a moment, glancing up at the light in the window of his shared dorm room.

He could sense Luffy up there, waiting—probably lying across the bed diagonally, phone forgotten on his stomach, mouth open in some half-snore, drooling onto Law’s pillow.

Law sighed and started up the stairs, footsteps light, head still full of plans.

But maybe, just for tonight, he could let himself rest.

Notes:

I'm getting so angry. I had this chapter in drafts and thought I didn't have it. I was about to write another one. It happens to me because I have so many things going on at once 🤧😂

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Troublemakers at U.A.