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How to Use Colors

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"I take it you haven't had any formal training."

"Nope."

"None at all?"

"None at all."

"I see. And how have you gotten stronger up until now?"

"Just... fights and stuff."

Luffy shrugs up his shoulders as he says this, watching from the center of the clearing, where Rayleigh has told him to stay, as the old man paces in between the trees. He seems like he's searching for something, but Luffy can't decide what it might be, grimacing and scratching at his still-bandaged chest. It was really cold yesterday, with frost covering the ground - he thought it might actually snow and was really looking forward to that, but now it's turned off hot and the stupid, muggy weather is making his wound itch. He tries to be discreet about it, sliding his hand up underneath his vest, staring at Rayleigh's back.

The movement, however small, does not go unnoticed by the Dark King.

"That'll never heal if you keep digging at it, Luffy," he says, without even looking, reaching up to grasp at one of the lower, sturdy branches of a tree to Luffy's far-left. Luffy hurriedly drops his hand, and there is a sharp snap as Rayleigh breaks the branch free of the trunk. "There. This should do just fine."

Rayleigh steps out of the shade, then, making his way into the clearing to stand a good distance away, across from Luffy, weighing the stick in his hand and testing it's balance, looking it over with an assessing eye. It's straight, about as long as his arm and half as thick, with no little twigs or knobs poking out of it. It'd be a great hiking-stick - and Luffy knows all about how to pick out a good hiking-stick - but he thought they were going to start training, now...

"What's that stick for?" Luffy asks.

"What about before you set out to sea?" Rayleigh asks, instead, looking up at him.

The sunlight glints off his glasses, and Luffy frowns.

"Huh?"

"What sort of training did you do before you set out to be a pirate," Rayleigh says again, "I know you must've been doing something to get the hang of that rubbery body of yours - it's no easy feat mastering a Devil Fruit. Though I wouldn't really say you've mastered it; there are still obvious places where you lack control, but we'll focus on those later. ...Were there any particular routines or habits you had when you were younger? Anything that helped you develop your skills?"

Mostly me and Ace just beat the crap out of each other.

There is a full minute of silence.

And Luffy doesn't even realize he hasn't said this out loud until he feels his teeth digging into his bottom lip, and his jaw tremble. Startled, he looks away, and he tries again - he moves his jaw, but his mouth won't open, and the words stick in his throat. A small noise escapes, but he can't say it. He can't say it and Luffy notices his vision swimming, his chest heaving, his scar aching. He reaches up to rub it, his heart pounding in his ears and drowning out every other sound. He feels like he's falling down and down, and, dimly, he knows Rayleigh is saying something, but Luffy can't hear what it is. The words are blurry and they don't reach his brain.

There is a sharp pain between his eyes, then, and reality barks back into existence. Luffy yelps clutches his forehead; his face is damp under his hands, his breath is shallow and he's shaking. There is a deep throbbing in his chest - a spot that feels too empty - but he doesn't feel like he's falling anymore. The stone clatters to the ground and Luffy, staring through his fingers, watches as it bounces once near his feet and rolls to a stop.

"Don't mumble at me when I ask you a question," Rayleigh admonishes from across the field, "I'm an old man, you know. My hearing isn't what it used to be."

His hearing is perfectly fine, and they both know it. Luffy scrubs his face with his arm and, finally, he manages to unstick his jaw. He gulps down air to fill his lungs, and the words shudder out of him, even though all he says is a lame, weak repetition, "Just... just fights and stuff."

"I take it you spared with your brother, then? How often?"

Luffy stares at the ground so he doesn't have to look at Rayleigh, frowning and rubbing the knot on his forehead.

"100 fights per person per day."

Rayleigh chuckles at that, thoughtful as he swings the stick underhanded in a practice-arch. Luffy watches the darting movement in his peripheral vision, but doesn't raise his head. He wishes his heart would stop thumping so loudly and rattling his chest.

"An easy enough concept to grasp," Rayleigh says, "How often did you win, Luffy?"

"Never... I always got my ass kicked."

He almost smiles, then - at least, he tries to. It comes a lot easier when Rayleigh throws his head back and laughs outright, "Well, at least that's something you're used to!" Luffy grins reflexively at the sound, so wide his face hurts, and that residual ache in the empty part of his chest starts to fade a little. Rayleigh moves forward, then, to his right and Luffy's left, his long, measured stride quickly bringing him within a yard of where Luffy is standing.

Here, he stops and beckons, "Let's get started, shall we?"

Luffy looks up in surprise, turning to face him and raising his fists, shifting his position into something more defensive.

"What are we doing?"

"Training," Rayleigh says, grinning, and that stick suddenly looks a lot more intimidating when he gestures between the two of them with it, "Or did you forget? We'll keep things simple and direct: You try to hit me, and I will block you. When I hit you, you try to block me. Do you understand, Luffy?"

"Yeah."

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Luffy says, and waits a heartbeat, "Are you?"

"The student moves first."

Luffy takes that as a yes, but the only indication of preparedness on the old man's part that he can see is the stick, hanging loosely at his side. Still, Luffy is wary - this is the former Pirate King's first mate, after all - this is an older kind of Zoro - and Luffy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and he keeps that in mind when he moves. Every muscle in his body protests at the sudden burst of energy. Two weeks of absolute rest wasn't nearly enough. His muscles burn and ache from being used too much all at once, and then not being used enough, and while most of his wounds have healed by now, that numbing tiredness still clings to him stubbornly.

He doesn't let it slow him down.

He can't get distracted now.

Luffy's attack falls on Rayleigh's left - a kick, aimed at his head - but Rayleigh doesn't dodge it.

He turns to meet it, the stick moving deftly from his right hand to his left, before Luffy can even register the movement. He knocks Luffy's leg effortlessly aside, and the impact sends a foreign burst of pain all the way up to his knee and disrupts his forward motion, sending his legs backwards as his built up momentum drags the rest of him forward. Luffy turns over head-first with a startled shout, slams into the ground, and bounces and rolls ten feet before he comes to a stop.

His leg is in shock from the pain, and it shakes under Luffy's weight as he gets quickly to his feet. There are bright red lines welling up on his shin, scratches from the bark, though that stick feels a lot more like iron than wood.

Rayleigh is standing exactly as before, the stick held loose in his hand, a faint smile on his face as he waits expectantly.

"Okay," Luffy says, his teeth grit, and charges again.

This time he throws a punch.

The stick cracks like a whip, striking the back of his hand with such force that Luffy thinks (in one blind instant) that it might actually break the bones in his hand. Rayleigh knocks his arm to the ground, stepping aside, and Luffy follows it, sprawling in the dirt at the old man's feet. His hand is throbbing, but Luffy pushes himself up on it, anyway, twisting and swinging his legs, intending to grab Rayleigh around the neck and throw him.

The stick hits him in the hip when he has barely gotten his feet off the ground and sends him flying across the clearing, through a tree that is easily the size of a small house. The trunk shatters, the tree falls, tearing down the branches of any other trees unfortunate enough to be in it's path, and Luffy lands flat on his back behind it, the breath forced from his lungs. His head is spinning, and his hip and chest ache, and he struggles to suck any air back in. The tree comes down on top of him with a deafening groan of wood, kicking up dust, leaves, and broken sticks as it finally settles.

He managed to get his hands up in time to stop the tree from crushing him completely, and Luffy's stubborn, stupid limbs shake with the effort as he stands, hoisting it up over his head. With a roar, he throws it at Rayleigh; some of the branches snag and snap off in the bows of the others trees, but the bulk of it lands exactly where he wants it to. Rayleigh jumps out of the way as the tree crashes to the ground, dodging to the left across the open field, and Luffy slides into place in front of him, cutting off his escape.

"Very clever!" Rayleigh says, but it isn't clever enough.

Luffy presses him back with a gatling-gun attack, and Rayleigh smacks both his fists aside with the stick, leaving stinging welts across the inside of his arms - his next target is Luffy's face, through the opening he's made. Luffy sees the stick whipping through the air, and barely draws in a breath right before it connects.

All he can see is black, for several seconds.

There is a sharp ringing in his ears.

And Luffy wakes up on his back, with blood in his mouth, clutching his face with both his hands.

"You're lucky you're made of rubber," Rayleigh is saying cheerfully, leaning down to help him up, "If you had a normal body, we'd be waiting for ages on you to heal from broken bones alone. Come on, now, Luffy, we're just getting started."

Luffy reluctantly takes the offered hand, letting Rayleigh pull him to his feet, and he stands on shaky legs, spitting the blood out of his mouth. He wipes his face, bumping his nose with the heel of his hand and grimacing at the renewed spike of pain that goes straight through his forehead. He looks at the stick in Rayleigh's hand with growing dismay.

"Damnit," he mutters, gingerly touching his nose, "That really hurts."

Rayleigh laughs.

"If it hurts, you should probably block it, don't you think?" He swats Luffy in the hip with the stick - the gesture is almost playful, but it hurts, damnit, and Luffy swallows back a yelp of pain, stepping out of Rayleigh's reach and pressing his hand against his hip, frowning deeply. Rayleigh remains amused, but doesn't pursue him. Instead, he steps away, inclining his head. "We'll call that Round One, then. Are you ready for Round Two, Luffy?"

He is never going to be more ready than he is now.

"Yeah."

"Good," Rayleigh says, grinning.

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Somewhere between Round 32 and Round 46, Luffy realizes he is being really stupid.

He hasn't landed a single blow.

Rayleigh, on the other hand, has landed plenty with that stick.

It occurs to Luffy, suddenly - when every limb is trying to give out on him, and every cut or welt is stinging through his sweat - to get the hell out of the way when Rayleigh is swinging that stupid stick. He is used to taking blows like that head-on and bouncing right back. These... he isn't bouncing back so good from these. Still, he doesn't expect to get away completely, and not on the first try, either. Rayleigh is quick and strong for an old man and while that is still all kinds of awesome, this is starting to get frustrating.

The sight of that stick coming down starts to fill him with dread, and Luffy bites the feeling back because it's stupid. Nothing hurts like that other stuff; nothing probably ever will. Still, he wants to not get the snot smacked out of himself just once today.

That's the point of this training, isn't it?

So he won't get smacked around so easily - so he can protect his friends.

He definitely needs to be a lot faster if he's getting it this bad. His breath is ragged and shallow, and he's only getting slower. He's starving. And his chest hurts, inside and out; it burns and itches and aches, and pressure is the only thing that sort of helps, so he's been keeping one hand against it as often as he can, but Rayleigh is relentless and it's super hard fighting and holding him off with just one hand. He hasn't asked to stop yet, though, because they aren't even to fifty and Rayleigh doesn't seem tired at all.

The old man looks like he's having the time of his life, he's barely even breaking a sweat, and that's fine with Luffy. He's going to make it to fifty, and making it to fifty will be a lot easier if he can just dodge that stupid stick.

So this time, when Rayleigh takes advantage of an opening he's left - he can't believe he's leaving so many - this time Luffy lurches back, and the stick swings past his nose, barely a breath away as he bends his back and his knees, arms spread to keep his balance. Luffy quickly straightens and staggers backwards, his heart beating in his ears, and a bark of triumphant laughter leaves his aching lungs because he can't believe he actually dodged it.

The small bit of triumph is short-lived.

Luffy doesn't see or hear or sense Raleigh move at all, but he feels the sudden pain that splinters across his back and shoulders. Another several blows fall, all at once, heavy and fast on his arms and his legs, his chest and sides. Luffy doesn't even get a chance to defend himself, and just like that, it's over. He tastes dirt and blood in his mouth as he hits the ground face-first; the assault leaves him gasping and wheezing, rolling on the ground and clutching his sides, his arms curled around his middle and his knees drawing up. The throbbing in his chest makes it hard to breathe, and he thinks he knows how Sanji feels when he gets his ribs cracked all the time.

It doesn't feel too good.

What feels even worse is realizing Rayleigh has just been playing with him this whole time.

A scuffling noise to his left makes Luffy jerk in surprise, and he lifts his face from where it's pressed against the ground. His vision swims a little. Maybe he blacked out for a second... Luffy grits his teeth and tries to get up, but his arms and legs don't do what he wants them to. They just shudder and jerk underneath him, and he clenches back around himself, reflexively, at the burning pain that bursts in his chest.

Rayleigh kneels beside him, the stick leaning against his shoulder.

"I've never had a student before," he says, somewhat thoughtful, "Maybe I'm being a little too rough on you."

"Nuh... no," Luffy gasps, scraping his forehead against the ground as he shakes his head, "Ah... I can do it. I need it."

Rayleigh frowns at that, rubbing his chin.

Luffy starts to get up again, and Rayleigh pushes him back down with one hand against his back.

"What you need is to listen," the Dark King says, his tone low and firm. He flicks Luffy in the ear. "I said block it, not dodge it. The next time you lunge out of the way when you know the blow is coming, I won't go so easy on you, Luffy. You'll never learn anything if you don't open your ears and listen to my instructions. What is the point of this exercise?"

It would be a lot easier to process this if he weren't so hungry... Luffy almost answers twice, but stops himself, because the point Rayleigh wants suddenly doesn't seem like the point he was thinking of. Rayleigh waits patiently, and Luffy uses the thinking-time to rest, his face pressed into the dirt and his eyes closed. Slowly, his breathing evens out, and the aches ease up a little; his chest still feels like it's trying to break open, though... He guesses that's just something he's going to have to learn to live with.

Finally, Luffy settles on an answer, "The Armament Color," because that's the only thing it can be. That actually makes a lot of sense.

This realization has come a bit late, but Rayleigh is pleased, nonetheless.

"I think it's time for a lunch break."

And those are the best words Luffy has heard all day.

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(A/n) So little Rayleigh and Luffy fic… y'all…

-BobTAC