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Usopp turned the page of the encyclopaedia Robin had let him borrow. It had taken too much time to find the entry he was looking for, the one that would give an answer to his current problem:
The red string of fate (sometimes shortened to ‘red string’), definition: a metaphysical string connecting soulmates together until one of them dies. It is not always red, but that is the most common colour.
Everyone has a red string looped around their pinky. Most have one string, some have more, that connects them to their ‘soulmate’ - someone to walk beside you in life in perfect sync. They are only visible to the people they are attached to and can only be interacted with by them as well.
He sighed as he reached the end of the entry. The book in his hands was quickly abandoned onto the Aquarium Bar’s bench. Usopp turned his attention towards his left hand. His string was a golden yellow, like the warm hue of a field of sunflowers at dawn, with a texture similar to hemming ribbon. Soft but slightly scratchy at the edges, it was a constant in Usopp’s life since he turned 10.
And it was currently the bane of his existence.
Somehow it had gotten tangled around his hand and wrist so badly that the ribbon refused to budge. A knot at his wrist that constricted the joint if the ribbon ever went taut. Another surrounding his middle and pointer fingers has messed up his aim during the Mugiwara’s last battle. It was driving Usopp crazy!
His hope had been to find some way to loosen it, but now Usopp would suffice with cutting the string off entirely. There was another slight pull on it that made him wince. Could his soulmate please stop pulling at it so much?!
“Usopp-ya,” a tired voice snapped Usopp away from his hate-filled glaring. He blinked up at his new companion as Trafalgar Law stared down at him. Law glanced down at Usopp’s entrapped hand before flatly asking, “Is this the reason I was woken up from my afternoon sleep, by your tugging?”
Usopp saw the yellow string go slack when Law uncrossed his arms, letting the one with his own tied pinky hang in air between them. “Um…” He mumbled.
“What did you do to it?” Law questioned, sitting down beside Usopp to take hold of his forearm. The touch was steadying, allowing Law to get a better view of the mess that was his soulmate’s left hand.
“Nothing! Honest!” Usopp defended. He forced himself not to gesture wildly as he spoke, continuous of the deft fingers gently tugging at the sunny ribbon at his wrist. “I was just messing with it without thinking, and it got like this.”
Law didn’t say anything in response for a long while - his attention being spent wordlessly plucking away at the string. During that time, the room’s stillness made Usopp unsure as to whether either of them was breathing.
Eventually, when his work was done, Law let out a disappointed tut. Before Usopp could ask what the problem was, Law muttered, “You should be more careful with your hands. Damaging them would mean you being a poor marksman.” Then he gently placed a kiss on the inside of the wrist, “And I would be lying if I said that don’t mind your hands perfect the way they are…” Usopp’s breath hitched when their eyes met, Law continuing, “Just like the rest of you.”
Usopp flexed his fingers, lightly touching the skin of Law’s cheek, agreeing breathlessly, “I’ll try to be more careful next time.”
“Good,” Law chuckled.
