Chapter 1

"I can't believe I'm actually going to do this," a raven haired man sighed solemnly. He tightened his grip on the sling of the duffle bag and pushed the doors open as he entered. Of all the things that old hag would leave him it would be a fucking bakery. His face scrunched up as a blonde man carried out a tray full of fresh bread, filling the whole room with a nice aroma, or which, in the dark haired man's case, horrible stench.

"Hey Law," he greeted, setting down the tray of bread and moving back to the kitchen to fetch the second batch. Law followed him to the kitchen, immediately regretting it as he pinched his nose. Of course the smell of bread would be stronger in the kitchen. "So I heard from Chopper. Congrats, and condolences."

Law shrugged and went out the kitchen. The blonde placed a tray of unbaked bread into the oven and followed the darker haired man out. "No, really, condolences for your great aunt and owning this place."

"Fucking old hag," Law mumbled, resting his head on the table as he frowned even more than he already is. "She knows I hate bread. She could've sold this place for all it's worth and handed me the money."

"Still, better than nothing," the blonde shrugged and wiped his flour stained hands on his apron. "What can I get you then?"

"Money for my tuition."

"Would if I could. Probably. Or not. What's so bad about working here anyway? I do all the hard work. All you've got to do is look after the shop while I'm gone."

"Bread. I hate bread."

"Of course you do." The man said with sympathetic smile. "I'll be leaving now, and in about an hour, an alarm would sound and all five thousand loaves of assorted, flavored bread should be done baking by then. All you have to do is put them on display according to label, which I've conveniently done for you, and sell them."

"Easy for you to say, Sanji. You don't hate bread," Law groaned and planted his head on the table with a soft thud.

" And try to smile?"

Law gave him what seems to be a dog trying and failing to snarl and bare its fangs. Actually, it looked like a monkey's face when they try to pick out any particles that get stuck on their front teeth. "There, happy?"

"You look like shit."

"Have a nice day to you too, sir," Law said mockingly as Sanji grabbed his backpack and turned to leave.

"One hour. Store opens at 9. Which is three hours from now. Good luck on your first day, Manager-san."

His first day at Sakura Bakery turned out to be the worst day of his life. It took him no time at all to sort the bread according to kind due to Sanji's obsessive compulsiveness when it comes to food. When an hour had passed after the blonde baker left, the alarm sounded and Law grudgingly made his way to the kitchen to sort the bread, which to his surprise and glee, are already sorted. Sanji had apparently prepared for this by putting labels on each oven as to which type of bread bakes where. All he had to do was to carry the bread out to display.

That part of the day was okay, but still bad, considering he's dealing with his worst ever enemy—bread. Things got worse when he opened the store at nine. Law had honestly never expected so many people, most of which were women to come flooding inside, almost knocking him off. He kept in mind to hire a waiter or something to meet the women's demands. The line was impossibly long, and took longer than usual, as it was Law's first day, not that the women mind, so long as the bread was made by the Sanji of the Baratie.

When noon rolled around, Law finally found time to relax. There were fewer customers at this time, thankfully. He sat down to his favourite book, A History of Medical Techniques turned to the book marked page and started reading:

Blockage of urine in the bladder due to syphilis and other venereal diseases, was fairly common at a time when antibiotics were not available. The urinary catheter, a metal tube inserted through the urethra into the bladder, was first used in the mid-1300s. When a tube could not easily be passed into the bladder to relieve the obstruction, other procedures to enter the bladder were devised, some quite novel, though all probably as painful and dangerous as the condition itself.

Here is a description of the treatment of kidney stones: "If there is a stone in the bladder, make sure of it as follows: have a strong person sit on a bench, his feet on a stool; the patient sits on his lap, legs bound—"

The book was forcefully yanked from Law's careful hands. "Oi you fucking asshole, are you even listening to me? I said I want the usual!"

Law stood up calmly and tried to grab the book back from a rather beefy man. Unfortunately, the man was a bit taller than him and held the book out of reach, making him rather impatient. "I'm sorry, I was too engrossed in my book. But as you can see, I'm new here, so would you please tell me just what your 'usual' is?" Law said as carefully and politely as he could to the red haired asshole who disrupted him from his reading.

"The fuck have you been reading anyway," the red head motioned for his companion, which Law just noticed was present when he did. Said companion, Law observed, was wearing a weird mask with a few holes just enough for him to see and breathe. He, Law was certain that it was a 'he' due to his anatomical build, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket and started scribbling down orders just as Mr. Red Head suddenly snorted and read aloud:

"The patient sits on his lap, legs bound to his neck with a bandage, or steadied on the shoulders of the assistants. The physician stands before the patient and insert two fingers of his right hand into the anus, pressing with his left fist over the patient's pubes, with his fingers engaging the bladder from above, letting him work over all of it,"

"Hear that Killer? Ain't you a kinky fellow you fucking son of a bitch," he sneered and threw the book at Law, who caught it unamused. "Gay and just wanting to be fucked hard while bound."

Anger consumed the raven haired man as he gripped the book tightly in his hand that his knuckles have gone white. Grabbing the bag of baked goods, he stormed out from behind the counter, shoved the bag into Killer's hands and whacked the red head's head with the hard bound five hundred page book of historical medical techniques. "Fuck you," he spat, and gave him the finger.

"Spunky brat," said the red head as blood dribbled from the side of his face. Law barely had enough time to think when he suddenly found himself lying flat on the floor, straddled by the masked man with a blade hovering just above the small bobbing lump on his throat. "I like spunky brats. They make good bitches."

"F-Fuck you," Law managed a smirk despite the blade now pressing dangerously at his lifeline. "You gay for me now, that it?"

"Nothing wrong with preferring the same sex. Though I'd rather be the one doing the fucking. You just don't look the type."

"Fuck—"

"Name and number."

"What are you—" Law was cut off when he felt a sting. He didn't have to see to know that the blade was pressed at his neck with enough pressure to draw blood. Fuck, he still had to become a doctor and hear the screams of his patients when he operates them without any anaesthetics or whatsoever. More importantly, he wanted to try out that heart preservation he'd been reading about… "Fuck, I'll write it down if you'd tell your friend to get off me."

"You heard my bitch. Get the fuck off him Killer."

Killer grunted and got off Law, but did not sheath his blade just yet. Law grimaced internally as he scribbled his number down and handed it to the red head. "Trafalgar Law. Now get lost."

"Name's Kidd. And I'll call you later tonight, Trafalgar," Law shivered when Kidd said his name. He was utterly disgusted by the brute. "So you better answer it or Killer here will hunt you down."

"Is that a threat? Because I sure as don't give a fuck."

"You will," Kidd promised with an evil sneer gracing his features as he exited the bakery. "Even if you don't, I'll still see you tomorrow anyway, Trafalgar. Ask that blondie baker of yours. I'm a regular."

Law went back behind the counter and flopped down on the chair. Being around bread everyday was one thing. Just when he decided he couldn't hate anything or anyone more than this stupid job and bread, that asshole Kidd just had to be a regular.

His life is fucked up and all, but that doesn't mean he won't fight back.

A/N: I know I'm supposed to be updating Project Cinderella as of now, but I had this idea about Law running a bakery and I just hadtowrite it down before it disappears from my mind forever! Anyways, reviews are very much welcome! I'd love to hear your thoughts (good or bad) about this fic.

Next would be an update of Project Cinderella, promise!