DISCLAIMER: One Piece belongs to Eichiiro Oda.

My enemy's invisible,
I don't know how to fight. -Vocaloid, "Echo"

~ Phantom ~

He is too late.

The sea king's jaws snap shut. The little boy is gone, forever.

Shanks blinks, but it's too dark to see. Still in the grip of the nightmare, he is disoriented. Expecting himself to be standing waist-deep in water, it comes as a shock to him to find that he's lying in bed.

'It was a nightmare,' he tells himself silently. Just a dream... just his mind replaying that memory again.

His cheeks are slick with tears. How could he have failed to save Luffy? He's sure he will regret this for the rest of his life. He wonders how many nights he'll spend reliving that moment before the pain eases.

His shirt is soaked with sweat. Sitting up in order to take it off, he struggles with the damp fabric which clings stubbornly to his skin. It takes him entirely too long to figure out that the reason that his arms will not coordinate their efforts in removing the offending garment is because one of them is simply not there.

The ghost of his missing left arm, which he was convinced was still there, which he could have sworn he felt moving only moments ago... isn't real. He breaks into a grin as he realizes that the nightmare isn't real, either. He did save Luffy, and his missing arm is the proof of that.

~end~

A/N: Not an AU, just an unreliable narrator with nightmares and phantom limb syndrome.