The silence stretched in the corridor, broken only by the soft crackle of torches and the distant creak of the castle timbers. The air felt thick with tension, heavy with unspoken emotion. Chopper remained motionless on the rafters, his small form curled tightly against a thick wooden beam. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, the rhythm quick and anxious. Below, Luffy stood calmly in the torchlight, his arms hanging loosely by his sides, eyes bright with curiosity and warmth rather than fear.
"You saved Nami, didn't you?" Luffy said, his voice quiet, but full of certainty. There was no accusation in his tone, only appreciation.
Chopper flinched. His ears twitched, and he pressed himself tighter into the shadows, as though he could disappear into them completely. He wasn't used to hearing that. Praise. Trust. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable. He lowered his head, unable to meet Luffy's gaze.
"I'm not a doctor," Chopper mumbled, barely audible. "I'm a monster."
Luffy tilted his head, surprised but undeterred. "A monster? No way. You helped someone who was sick. That makes you amazing."
Chopper blinked, his body trembling. The words struck something deep inside. Something buried beneath years of fear and rejection. A memory stirred.
He was small then, smaller than now, shivering in the snow outside the wooden cabin nestled deep in the forest. His fur was soaked from the storm, his nose runny and bruised. Dr. Hiriluk stood above him, a wide smile stretching across his wrinkled face. The doctor held a tattered coat in his hands, far too big for a reindeer, but filled with warmth.
"You think you're a monster? Don't be silly," Hiriluk said with a soft chuckle. "You've got a good heart. And that's what makes a doctor."
"But they all said I was dangerous," Chopper whispered, his young voice fragile.
"Let them say what they want," Hiriluk replied, kneeling in the snow beside him. He placed a hand gently over Chopper's chest. "As long as you use this to help others, you'll always be a real doctor to me."
Chopper's eyes had welled with tears then. Not from pain, but from the overwhelming relief of being accepted. It was the first time someone had believed in him.
That night, Chopper had stayed by the fire, warm under the oversized coat, sipping soup that smelled faintly of garlic and herbs, and listening to Hiriluk's dreams of curing not just sickness, but sadness itself. It became one of Chopper's most cherished memories—a moment where the word "hope" took on meaning.
In the present, Chopper's hooves curled around the satchel of herbs clutched to his chest. His breath caught in his throat. Luffy was still there, gazing up at him with that same open grin—a smile full of sincerity that didn't mock or judge.
Luffy stretched his hand toward the rafters, his voice gentle but firm. "Come down. I want you on my crew."
Chopper's jaw dropped. "W-what?"
"You heard me," Luffy said, smiling. "You're strong, you're smart, and you saved my friend. We could use someone like you."
For a moment, something almost like hope shimmered in Chopper's eyes. His grip on the satchel loosened slightly. His body leaned forward, just an inch, as if he was ready to jump down. The idea—being wanted, not feared—was intoxicating.
He imagined himself standing beside Luffy, sailing across the sea. Fighting bad guys. Saving people. Being called a hero. Being called... doctor.
But then doubt surged through him like a cold wave.
"No… no, you don't understand anything!" he shouted, voice cracking with emotion. "You don't know what I've done… what I am!"
Fear took over. He turned abruptly and leapt from the beam, vanishing into the shadows of the upper halls with surprising speed and agility. The sound of his hooves echoed through the stone corridors, retreating fast.
Luffy didn't chase. He simply stood there, watching the spot where Chopper had disappeared. The warmth in his eyes never faded. Instead, he smiled to himself.
"You'll come around," he said softly, the confidence in his voice unwavering.
Far above, nestled in a forgotten corner of the castle beneath a sloped wooden roof, Chopper crouched alone. The space was small and dusty, filled with old blankets and a few worn books. Snow drifted in through a cracked window, landing silently on the wooden floor. Chopper pulled his satchel close, burying his nose in it like a child hugging a safety blanket.
His breath fogged in the cold air as he rocked gently. His antlers brushed the low ceiling with each trembling motion.
"I can't trust them," he whispered. "I'll just get hurt again."
His voice trembled, and he turned his face to the window. Outside, the storm was easing, and the moonlight cut through the clouds, casting a silver glow into the room. The world beyond looked peaceful—but peace was always fleeting, always dangerous for someone like him. One kind moment could be followed by betrayal. He'd learned that the hard way.
"Don't get attached. Don't believe them," he muttered, echoing the words of past warnings—Hiriluk's cautions, Kureha's strictness, even his own fearful instincts. Each repetition was quieter, less certain. But even as he said the words, Luffy's voice echoed in his mind—genuine, kind, impossible to ignore.
I want you on my crew.
Chopper closed his eyes, torn between instinct and desire, between everything he feared and everything he hoped could be true. He clutched the satchel tighter and whispered to himself,
"…Could I really belong somewhere?"
To be continued...
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