Crocodile wouldn’t have let anyone else in the world wash his hair but he was too tired to argue when Daz offered to do it for him on the ship as they sailed away from Marineford.

“It hasn’t been washed since before Impel Down,” Daz reminded him. “Just let me do it, alright?”

Crocodile allowed it.

He let Daz sink his head back in the basin of warm water, and massage his scalp.

He shivered at the sensation, and realized that despite the water, despite the chaos and heartbreak of Marineford, he hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time.