[He's seen it. But it looked the same as hers; a Straw Hat over a far too wide smile. He doesn't like it.]

[As for her question, he refuses to break his concentration, even at being called her brother. Whether she meant it sarcastically or earnestly, it stung slightly and he didn't know how to adjust.]

[What does fuel his justice? He never thought about it before. What kept him going? Justice. Why did he pursue pirates? Justice. Why did Smoker do anything? Justice. What fueled it? It was fuel.]

Justice is what keeps me going. Pursuing it, acting on it. Discerning what is the best course... that doesn't need fuel or hope. It is that already.

What fuels the sun? I know chemical reaction, fusion, whatever, but it doesn't get tired, right? Just goes until it's dead, and everything gets pulled towards it.

Justice doesn't need fuel. It comes when people figure out how to follow it.