Musik’s Brain Rot

Chapter 1

Look Katsuki Bakugo was great at many things.

Cooking? Five-star quality.

Being a hero? Without breaking a sweat.

Leadership? Uh duh, he isn’t #2 pro hero for nothing.

Nothing shakes Katsuki Bakugo, nothing. But this?

This was another beast entirely.

His mixed daughter’s beautiful and radiant curly hair. And he didn’t know how to do a damn thing with it. He knew the basics. Pinky Pie taught him that. Bonnet before bed, silk pillows, always moisturize her hair, never use those fuck ass rubber bands. Oil her scalp. Wash every 2 weeks. It was routine. But when it came to styling it, he always had a difficult time. And this particular morning was not a great hair morning.

Katsuki Bakugo was losing a battle.

And not just any battle—he’d gone up against villains, explosions, near-death experiences, and the damn bureaucracy of hero work.

But none of that compared to the war he was currently waging with a head full of curly hair.

“Kalia, stay still,” he muttered, essentially chasing Kalia’s head around while she sat in front of him on a small stool. He had a brush in one hand, a spray bottle in the other, and the most confused, frustrated look on his face.

“But it hurts!” Kalia whined, her small hands flying up to shield her scalp.

Bakugo sighed heavily, setting the brush down and resting on his heels. “I ain’t tryin’ to hurt you, kid. I just… I don’t know how the hell this stuff works!”

The apartment was filled with the low hum of a news report on hero activity, the occasional clang of dishes in the kitchen sink, and a deep, defeated sigh from the living room.

“I said stop brushing from the top!” Kalia snapped, her tone somewhere between a whine and a warning.

“I’m not brushing from the top, I’m—shit—trying to do it like the video said!”

“That’s not how the lady did it, Daddy!” she shouted, twisting her head away.

“I watched the lady, alright?! I watched her like three damn times!” Katsuki groaned, dropping the brush onto the coffee table like it had betrayed him. He knelt next to Kalia, his hands on his knees, trying to breathe.

“Fuck” he whispered

Then he pulls her into a hug. “I’m sorry Kalia I’m not trying to hurt you. I just wanted to make your hair beautiful baby, but I’m so out of my league here.”

“It’s ok Dad I know you’re trying. “Kalia sighed

You see Kalia is the most understanding, kind, girl. She has a smile that could rival sunshine and a heart that beats nothing but kindness and love. She is smart and funny and every part of Katsuki’s world. She was his world, his entire world.

Katsuki pulls away from the hug and he looks at her beautiful brown eyes and her glowing brown skin and he kisses her forehead.

“Alright, firecracker. How about I do one little puff ponytail and I’ll study the video like my life depends on it. Then we can try again tomorrow. I don’t want you to be late for school. You haven’t been late a single day since you started 4th grade and I’m proud of us for that. So let’s not start now ok?”

Kalia smiles that smile that makes the sun jealous and says “ Of course Daddy. I don’t want to be late either. You pinky promise you will watch the video again right?” She says hopping out of the chair

“Tch. Have I ever broken a promise before?” Bakugo grunted and helped her down

“Uh yeah. Remember when you promised we’d get ice cream if I got a 100% on my spelling test?” She says while putting on her shoes

“You didn’t even get a 100% you got a 95” Bakugo says

He grabs the keys

“Daddy Miss Ito said 5 or more go up one floor four or less stay and rest”

Kalia says hand on her hip head to the side standing with all the attitude that Katsuki gave her (It’s a lot of attitude)

“What the hell does that even mean?”

Bakugo says while bending down to help her tie her shoes

“UGH. It means you round up. If there are 5 or more in the 1s place you round up the tens place. If there are 4 or fewer in the ones place you don’t round up. And you cussed again so that’s $2 for the swear jar”

She says while putting her two fingers to his face.

“Kalia that’s not how that works and you know it. Get a 100 on your next spelling test and I promise we will get ice cream. The good kind. The one from that gourmet ice cream shop down on Main.” Bakugo says.

He stands up while grabbing her book bag and jacket and ushers her out the door

“Tch whatever daddy. You know those words are hard.” Kalia says as she climbs into the car

“Yes, I know the words are hard. School is hard sometimes. And that’s ok. I want you to always try your best in school. And sometimes it’s easier to do your best when there’s motivation.”

“Mo-ti-vation?” Kalia questions buckling her seat belt.

“Yes, motivation.” He sighed

“What does motivation mean?”

“Kalia that was last week's vocabulary word. You spelled it correctly on your spelling test.” He says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It was?!? See Daddy, I told you words are hard” she crossed her arms with a hmph.

“Motivation means something that drives us to do things. My motivation for being a good pro hero and making sure I come home safe every night is you. You brat. Sometimes we need motivation to do certain things we think are hard. My motivation for you to do good in school is ice cream and fun things. So for every 100% you get we either do something fun or get good ice cream. No 100% forgotten. So if that means we celebrate every 100% to give you motivation to get more, we do that”

Katsuki pulls into the school drop-off line and puts the car in park

“Alright, Firestarter we are here. Have a great day. Be good. And remember that you are the kid of Katsuki Mother fucking-“

“Swear jar” Kalia interrupted in a sing-song voice.

“Uuugghhh.” He groans and he wipes his hand down his face

You are the kid of Katsuki fricking bakugo and don’t forget it. No go in there be great and remember…”

“I know, I know, let them hit first so I can claim self-defense and then make sure they never even think about hitting me again,” Kalia says rolling her eyes

“That’s my girl. Now get out I’m holding up the line.”

“Tch fine”

“I love you Kalia.” Katsuki said before she gets out of the car pulling her into a hug.

“I love you too Daddy”

“Now go be great”

And with that, Kalia ran off into the school. Right on time

“Usopp it’s extremely dangerous. And it may only buy you minutes.”

Usopp stared at her.

“Ten minutes,” she said. “That’s all we might get.”

“Ten minutes is all I need. Ten minutes to tell her I love her and have always loved her” he exclaimed

“It’s can be really dangerous Usopp. And I have to re iterate it may only buy you minutes. But… there’s a Devil Fruit user on the next island. Someone rumored to be able to bring back the dead—for a time.”

Usopp stared at her.

“Ten minutes,” he repeated to himself. “That’s all we might get.”

That night, he didn’t sleep.

How could he. Every time he closed his eyes he saw you your lifeless body, flowers protruding from your mouth, blood on your dress and crushed petals in your hands. You looked peaceful. An image that haunted him.

Usopp’s mind raced a million miles a minute. He grew restless laying in his bed and got up and went to the deck to clear his mind. He sat by the rail, the journal clutched in his arms.

“Ten minutes.” He whispered

“Could that be enough?

Could ten minutes undo a lie?

Could ten minutes bring you back to me. “

A single tear dropped from his eye.

Usopp clutched your journal tighter. As if he were trying to hold onto your soul and bring it back to him. Amidst the silent still night a warm and forgiving wind blew. The wind felt all too familiar. It felt like a warm familiar embrace.

Your embrace.

Soon the scent of you filled his nose and he heard a faint whisper.

‘ i love you Usopp’

Startled, Usopp whips around looking for the source of the whisper only to be met with nothing but emptiness. On the deck before him lay a single blue specked rose petal.

He held that petal close to his heart and whispered “I love you too— more than you know” and with that he went into his workshop. He stayed in that workshop until daybreak. Tinkering away until he could no more. The petal resting softly on the workbench as a reminder. He had one chance to get this right and he was not going to mess this up at all.

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

As the next morning approached the Sunny was quickly reaching their destination.

The island was shrouded in mist when the Sunny arrived. The trees were crooked, bent like they’d been weeping for centuries. The ground was soft and warm, pulsing like breath beneath the crew’s feet.

No birds.

No wind.

Just silence. A silence that can shake even the bravest man and rattle his soul.

Robin was the first to speak. “This place has been altered. It’s touched by something unnatural.”

They followed a narrow path of petals.

Red, violet, Blue—just like the ones that had filled your lungs.

Usopp walked at the front. His eyes were empty. Feet determined. He moved faster than his brain could comprehend. His heart beat like a war drum against his ribs. The anticipation and the sheer determination of Usopp honestly scared the crew a bit. The last time they had seen this was with merry.

The journal was pressed to his chest. He clutched it as if it was his own lifeline to scared to even put the journal in his bag. No he clutched that journal with his entire body as if he were grasping the last thing that could tie him to you.

After a while, they reached a clearing. A beautiful flower field opened up and in the center a cottage. Small, worn, and weathered but welcoming and warm all at the same time.

At its center stood a woman—tall, veiled in deep plum robes, hair dark as oil, eyes white with a faint glow—her eyes looked like they held the solution that Usopp so desperately searched for.

She gazed at them for a long time. She stared, her face contorting into various expressions, like she was reading them, like she’d been expecting them all along.

“Verena,” Robin whispered.

The woman smiled. “I know why you’ve come.”

Usopp stepped forward. His voice cracked. “Can you really… bring her back?”

“Not fully,” Verena replied. “Not unless she chooses to stay.”

He trembled and dropped to his knees and bowed forehead kissing the ground hard enough to leave a mark there later. “Please I’m begging Just… give me a chance.”

Verena tilted her head. “Stand up my child.”

Usopp stayed planted on the ground tears flowing like rivers from his eyes. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently patted his back.

“I can give you only ten minutes. No more than that. That’s what I offer. Her soul will be stitched back into her body for that time—and that time only. If your words reach her heart, if your love is true, she may remain. Give her a reason to stay my child.”

Usopp’s knees nearly buckled as he rose to his feet.

“And if I fail?” he asked, voice barely audible.

Verena’s eyes darkened. “Then she returns to the soil, and cannot rise again. This is you only opportunity. Bring her body to the center of this field and we shall get started ” and with that she turned and walked slowly to the center of the field.

Franky carried your body with the utmost care under the nervous watchful eye of Usopp. They brought your body to the clearing and laid you down as if made of glass.

Your body hadn’t even started to decay. Somehow, you looked like you were sleeping—serene, breathless, with strands of hair framing your soft, beautiful face. Your skin was warm. Too warm.

Verena placed a pale hand on your sternum and whispered something ancient. The wind whipped violently. Light erupted from the earth beneath you—gold, blue, violet.

Then you Inhaled sharply.

A gasp.

A real one.

You sat up with a choking cough,pulling the remainder of flowers that were in your mouth. Your body trembling, your eyes flying open as you looked around in confusion.

Usopp dropped to his knees.

“Y/N…”

Your gaze found his. Confusion twisted into something sharper—pain, fear.

You began to tremble lightly.

“Am I… dead?” You ask while looking at your hands. You were ghostly pale but also glowing.

“Yes,” Usopp said. “But you’re here. Just for a little while. I asked for this. I begged for another chance and the gods gave it to me”

You stared at him. “Why? Why go through the trouble?”

He took your hands. “Because I was wrong.”

His tears flowed once more.

“I lied to you,” he said, his voice ragged. “That night you asked if I could ever love someone like you. I said no.”

He swallowed hard, tears burning his eyes. His words starting to get caught is his throat.

“But the truth is—I already did. I’ve loved you for so long I forgot what it was like not to. I was just too scared. I didn’t think I deserved someone like you.”

You blinked, to stunned to speak. Throat burning as you fight tears of your own

He squeezed your hands, desperation in every line of his body.

“You have no idea what you are to me. You’re brilliant. You’re strong in ways I’m not. You make people feel safe just by existing. You smile like sunshine, and laugh like thunder, and…”

He trailed off, breath catching.

“I’ve memorized the way your eyes light up when you’re lying about being okay. I’ve seen you make Sanji burn food from laughing too hard. You make Zoro actually smile. You even scare Nami sometimes, and that’s impressive.”

You choked on a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes.

“And your body,” he whispered, reverent, “gods, your body. It’s so beautiful it makes me ache. Every curve. Every softness. You move like you belong to the sea—powerful and free. Every time I saw you smile or laugh I yearned to be the reason. Every touch shared everytime you gave someone a hug, every touch— every friendly soothing touch you gave, I longed to be the recipient. I longed for the feeling of your skin on mine. My soul ached for that feeling…And your skin… your skin is so warm, like honey in the sun, and I used to dream about holding you. About tracing every part of you with my fingers. About kissing every place you hated and telling you why I loved it.”

Your breath caught.

“I loved your body,” he said. “No I Love your body. Not despite anything. Because of it. Because it houses the most beautiful soul I have ever met. The kindest gentlest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. You are my sun and my moon. You are my starlight and when you were gone. I knew nothing but darkness.”

You reached up slowly, fingertips brushing his cheek.

“I didn’t think I was someone people loved, I didn’t think that I was someone who can be desired. I thought I wasn’t worthy of love” you whispered.

He kissed your palm.

“You are. You always were. I just didn’t say it in time and it killed me to know that I broke your heart. I never want to see you hurting ever again. ”

The light around you began to pulse.

Minutes were passing. The clock was counting down

He panicked. “Please. Don’t go. Don’t leave me again. I love you so much Y/n. And I don’t care how many lifetimes I have to fight through I will always love you and only you.”

You leaned in. “Usopp kiss me.”

Usopp leaned in cupping your face in his hands and holding you like you are the finest crystal. His hand brushed away your tears as he leans in and places his lips on yours. The feeling could only be described as an electric shock that surged through your bodies.

The moment your lips touched, something shattered. Light exploded outward. The trees groaned. The ground screamed. A burst of light one could only describe as heavenly surrounded you both. Lips still moving despite that. They moved with purpose.

And then Stillness as you separated from each other. You collapsed forward into his chest, trembling and glowing this heavenly glow.

You looked like an angel and Usopp was mesmerized. Usopp held you like you were made of glass. To scared of you disappearing to let you go.

And then he heard it.

Your heartbeat.

Steady. Strong.

Alive.

Your heart beat stronger than the thunder in the worst of storms. And it beat for him.

Verena watched, expression unreadable.

Robin stepped forward. “What happened?”

“She chose to stay,” Verena said simply. “And he gave her the reason. My job is done strawhats. Use this time wisely. As you can see life is very short. Love with your entire heart and live with every breath like it might be the last”

And with that you parted ways Usopp carried you back to the ship. Not because you couldn’t walk but because he wanted you to feel like the royalty you were.

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

Later That Night

You curled in Usopp’s arms on the ship, the journal between you.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” he murmured. “Every day. Every hour. I’m not wasting another second. Never again will your heart be broken. Not by me or anybody else”

You kissed his jaw, smiling. “Then you can start by staying here tonight.”

His voice trembled. “I’m never leaving again.”

The ship rocked gently beneath you, waves whispering lullabies only the sea could know.

Usopp’s arms circled you like a shield—warm, steady, impossibly soft.

You lay against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat like a promise.

After everything—the fear, the pain, the impossible magic that brought you back—here, in this quiet, you felt like you could finally breathe.

As your breathing finally reached a steady rate Usopp gazed over your sleeping figure. He was enamored with you and he was fighting his body to go to sleep. Scared that when he awoke it would all be a dream and you’d be gone.

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

As morning light shined through the window you were awoken by gentle caresses along you body.

Usopps fingers traced patterns on your skin—soft circles, slow, deliberate. He was memorizing you all over again. His lips brushed your hairline, then down the side of your face, slow and reverent.

“You’re really here,” he whispered, voice thick with awe and disbelief.

You reached up to touch his cheek.

“I am,” you said softly. “Because of you and your undying determination to have me with you”

His breath hitched.

You leaned in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. His hands cupped your face. Your hands wrapped around his neck. His lips moved with patience. Not rushed. Not rough. Like he was trying to absorb the feeling of his lips on yours.

When you pulled away he rested his forehead on yours hands stilll cupping your face. Your hands now cupping his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice raw. “For lying. For being afraid. For not telling you sooner.”

You shook your head. “You were scared.”

“I was,” he admitted. “But you… you were dying. And I was too blind to see it.”

“It’s not entirely your fault if I had been more straight forward I would’ve never died alone.”

Your hand slid down to his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath.

“You saved me,” you said. “Not just with that Devil Fruit magic, but with your love.”

He smiled, bittersweet. “I’m going to spend every day making sure you know that.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Usopp leaned down.

His lips brushed yours—a feather-light touch, testing, searching.

You melted into it.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, trembling like it was your first time kissing him.

Your breath mingled, hearts beating wild in the quiet cabin.

He kissed every inch of you like a prayer.

Lips trailing down your neck, hands exploring the curves he’d longed for, worshipped from afar.

His touch was gentle but desperate—like he was afraid you’d vanish again.

You shivered beneath his fingers, warmth blossoming deep inside.

“I love you,” he breathed against your skin.

You smiled, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I love you too.”

He kissed you again, slower this time—like he was memorizing every detail.

The world outside was quiet. The sea breathed its slow rhythm, rocking the Thousand Sunny beneath bright and cruel sun.

Usopp’s fingers shook as he helped you out of your shirt, revealing soft curves and the warmth of your brown skin. His eyes roamed you slowly, reverently, like you were a painting in motion.

He kissed your shoulder. Then your collarbone. Then the swell of your chest, murmuring against you:

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your breath hitched as he kissed lower, his mouth trailing fire along your skin. You arched into him, unashamed, and guided his trembling hands to explore more.

He paused when his fingertips grazed your hips.

You looked into his eyes and whispered, “Touch me.”

He did.

Carefully. Tenderly. Like he was learning a new world.

Every curve, every dip, he memorized with hands and lips, drawing sighs and gasps from you that made him shiver.

“Everything about you,” he whispered against your skin, “every inch… I love it. I’ve dreamed of this. Of you.”

When it was his turn to be bare, he hesitated.

“I’m not like Sanji,” he said nervously. “Or Zoro. I’m not… built or cool or—”

You placed your hands on his chest and silenced him with a kiss.

“You’re Usopp,” you said. “The bravest man I’ve ever known”

He exhaled like you’d lifted a mountain off his chest.

You kissed your way down his stomach, taking your time, watching him unravel for you.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered. “Exactly the way you are.”

When your bodies finally met—slow and searching—it was like a wave crashing into the shore: soft at first, then rising into something deeper, more consuming.

Usopp held you like you might vanish again. His arms wrapped around your body, pressing your chest to his, skin to skin. His forehead rested against yours as he moved inside you with cautious reverence, eyes locked to yours, breath shared.

“Is this okay?” he asked, again and again.

You nodded every time, unable to speak as his touch pulled stars from your lungs.

You whispered his name like a spell, over and over, and he shivered every time.

He pressed kisses to your neck, your jaw, the center of your chest—anywhere he could reach.

You felt everything: his love, his grief, his awe, his admiration.

And he felt everything in return

He marveled at the softness of your skin, the curve of your waist, the way your l eyes glimmered in the low light.

“You’re beautiful,” he said over and over, like a prayer.

“You’re perfect.”

You smiled against him.

“I never believed I could be loved like this.” You say shyly

He tightened his arms.

“You’re the most loved person in the world to me.”

In your now shared room, everything pulsed with heat, closeness, and unspoken truths.

You lay together on the small bed, his chest against your back, your legs tangled like vines.

His hand had been resting at your waist, but now it slid forward—slow, almost shy. His fingers brushed the softness of your stomach, and you felt him hesitate.

You turned to face him, searching his face.

“Usopp,” you whispered. “You don’t have to be so careful.”

He looked down, startled. “I want to be. You’ve been through so much, and I—I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

You smiled softly, touching the side of his face.

“You won’t. I want this. I promise to tell you if it’s too much. Ok?”

A tremble passed through him.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I’ve never… not like this. Not with someone I…” His voice broke. “Not with someone I love.”

Your breath caught.

“I’m sure,” you said. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

His mouth moved against yours like the sea’s own rhythm — steady, reverent, impossibly warm.

You could feel the tremble in him, even as he kissed you deeper. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks with the lightest pressure, like he was afraid you might break.

But you didn’t want distance.

You wanted him.

You guided his hands lower, pressing your own over them, encouraging him to feel your skin — not with fear, but with belonging.

His breath caught when his palms slid down the sides of your neck, your shoulders, until his fingers grazed the bare edges of your chest. He paused, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Are you’re sure?” he whispered again, his voice hoarse.

You leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m yours, Usopp. I want you to know me. All of me.”

That quiet broke something open in him.

Not control — not lust.

But need. Sacred, trembling need.

He wasn’t prepared for how beautiful this would be.

Not just you — glowing, half-naked in the dim sunlight — but the way you offered yourself. Your trust. Your love. Your vulnerability.

You pulled him close again, your chest pressed to his, skin warm and real. His hands roamed slowly, like he was drawing a map with only memory and wonder.

He kissed your collarbone.

Then your shoulder.

Then lower — to the curve of your breast, where he hesitated again until you cradled his head and whispered, “Please.”

He took your nipple into his mouth with a slow, reverent pressure, and you gasped, arching into him. Your fingers twisted gently into his curls as he worshipped you — first with lips, then with hands, until your body felt like it was humming beneath his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re everything.”

His voice shook as he moved lower, kissing the soft curve of your belly, pressing his cheek to it like he wanted to stay there. His fingers slid gently between your thighs, and you opened to him without shame.

Without fear.

Because it was him.

You moaned as his fingers explored you — soft, slow, learning every part of your body like it was holy.

“Can I taste you?” he asked quietly, his mouth brushing your thigh. “I want to make you feel good. I want to know what it’s like to love you everywhere.”

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Yes, Usopp. Please”

He took his time.

He kissed you like a slow confession, his mouth gentle, his tongue moving in slow, searching circles that made you cry out and grasp at the sheets. He moaned into you when he felt you react, like your pleasure was the only thing he needed to live on.

And when you came — soft, high, trembling against his tongue — he held you through it, whispering your name between every kiss.

You pulled him up into your arms, still shaking, and kissed him hard.

You could taste yourself on his mouth.

It made you want more.

“Please Usopp please Make love to me,” you whispered. “I need to feel you.”

He froze. Then he grabbed both of you hands and planted kisses in your palms“ I never want you to beg me for anything ever again. Anything you want I will move hell and high water to give you. I will fight a million men to make you happy.”

You then nodded. Tears slowly filling your eyes and slowly and shakily he wiped your tears Like he’d just been given a miracle he wasn’t sure he deserved.

When he entered you, it was slow — cautious, as if the act itself were too big to name. He slid into your pussy as if he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him.

He buried his face in your neck as you clutched his shoulders, your legs wrapping around him like you’d been waiting for this your whole life.

You gasped when he was fully inside, and he stopped moving instantly.

“Too much?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“No,” you whispered. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He moved carefully, each thrust a promise. Each roll of his hips paired with a soft gasp or a whispered “I love you” into your mouth.

You clung to him, eyes locked, breath shared. There was nothing but the warmth of your bodies, the creak of the bed, and the sound of your names tangled in moans.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t practiced.

But it was real.

Soft sounds of skin on skin filled the room paired with moans of love. You grab his face and he locks eyes on you once more as you felt the pleasure building in your core.

“I’m so close Usopp please come with me”

“I am too my love. I love you so much please never leave me” Usopp said

“Never” you moaned

And in the end, when the pleasure crested again — when you cried out his name like it was a vow — he let go with you, shuddering, burying himself as deep as he could, groaning into your shoulder as his body trembled in yours.

He collapsed against you, breath ragged, chest heaving.

Neither of you spoke for a long time.

You just held each other.

His body half-draped over yours. Your hands stroking his back. Your thighs still trembling around his waist.

And when he finally spoke, it was barely a breath.

“You’re my whole world. You are the air I breathe if I ever leave I’d die. ”

You smiled into his hair, kissed the top of his head, and whispered, “Then don’t ever leave.”

They say love is more than words.

Here, it was skin on skin, breath on breath.

The way your bodies fit together was a secret language—soft sighs, whispered names, fingers tracing promises.

Every kiss, every touch, was a vow: you were both here to stay.

You fell asleep tangled together—his heartbeat a steady drum beneath your ear.

For the first time in a long time, your dreams were full of light

The end I hope you liked it.

Your mind was made up before you even thought about it. You’d rather die than to ever forget how Usopp makes you feel like the only person in the whole world. Whether he liked you or not.

Threatens with the possibility of death you started keeping a secret diary. Hidden behind your mattress tucked away to only be seen by you.

Another violent cough rattled your chest and out two blue specked petals dropped once more. You knew these petals all too well. It was your favorite flower. The flower he stuck behind your ear after the first battle you ever joined the straw hats in. He was drunk and trying to hand out beautiful flowers. Each one a different color of rose.

“A orange rose for nami. Signifying fascination, passion, enthusiasm, and energy. A purple rose for robin. This rose signifies royalty, luxury, and opulence. And blue and white speckled rose for you Y/n”

You reached out grabbing the rose from his hand slowly. As yo/ur hand lingered just a second longer than it normally would, The feeling of your warm skin enveloped every sense of his being. IF he wasn’t already blushing from all the alcohol he would have been beet red just from that interaction alone.

“This flower is beautiful. Thank you Usopp”

“Aw it was no problem for the greatest flower picker in the world” he says as he puffs his chest out trying to mask his flustered emotions behind his pride.

Sure he was trying to hand flowers to everyone, but he felt as if you were more beautiful than any flowers. Like everyone in the world was non existent and your beautiful smile. That flower was the only thing that could even come close to comparing to the beauty of your smile. The way you smiled with your whole being. When he found it he just knew that this rose was special and belonged to someone he thought was even more special

Unbeknownst to him it was your favorite flower. Even from a little girl.

You decided to hide it form your crew just so you don’t get pity from them. You hid it and you always destroyed the evidence. Well almost always

You and Usopp sat on deck laughing and listening to him recount a story you knew for sure wasn’t real but you listened like if you looked away you’d miss something. Then amidst a belly aching laugh you coughed into your hands. You crushed it in your palm, hoping no one saw it. It had slipped past your lips mid-laugh in the middle of Usopp’s a story about a giant goldfish he’d once defeated—something about the size of its turds being mistaken for islands. The crew was howling with laughter, Sanji wiping tears from his eyes, Luffy half-choking on meat.

You tried to join in. You smiled too. But the petal clung to the back of your throat like a secret.

You quietly excused yourself, slipping down to the lower deck, your hands trembling.

In the privacy of the storeroom, you coughed again. More petals. Pale blue this time, edged in red. All because of one person…

Usopp.

The sharpshooter with shaky hands and a louder heart than he let on. The boy with stories too big for this world and a soul that had never given up, even when it had every reason to. He was smart and funny and talented. He had a knack for making laughs until your sides hurt and he knew when you were feeling self conscious. He always made you feel like you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

And you—well, you were in love with him.

You hadn’t meant to be. It happened the way all disasters do: slowly, then all at once. Like a tsunami wave slowly retreating then crashing onto your heart all at once. You had to figure out if he felt the same in any way.

You started small.

Lingering near his workbench longer than necessary. Bringing him extra fruit from the kitchen. Laughing a little too hard at his stories. Sitting closer each night at dinner, hoping your presence could say what your voice wouldn’t dare. You thought he might feel it too, in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching. In the way his hand sometimes brushed past yours when sitting at the dinner table. The way he looks for you in a crowd on the island you stopped to stock up at. The softness of his voice when he talks to you. Just the little things. You were so confused. You just needed to know so you decided it’s time to rip the bandage off and ask him. But not flat out ask him cause you’d die if embarrassment. The coughs were getting worse. What was once a sing petal turned into full blown flower heads no stems just the flower head covers in blood forcing itself through your lungs and out your mouth it was progressively getting worse by the day.

You tried to be subtle at first. Small things. Hints.

The extra helping of pineapple slices you knew he loved. Sitting beside him during storms when the sky growled and the deck shuddered, pretending you were the one afraid. You started borrowing books from Robin just so you could ask him questions he had no idea how to answer, just to hear him talk and wave his hands with that nervous passion.You studied his face like it was a map and you were trying to memorize the safest route home. And sometimes… he looked at you like he was lost, too.

But whenever you got too close, he pulled away—gently, almost apologetically, like he was afraid of leading you somewhere dangerous.

You started coughing more.

Petals in the sink. Petals in your pillow. Petals in your gloves, crushed and warm with blood. Each time you try to dispose of them without anyone seeing. Except someone did see. Robin saw. Robin always saw. But you thought you were being careful. You had to move fast it was getting worse

One night, you tried to test him.

The two of you were on night watch together—just you, Usopp, the creak of the ship, and the moon above like a coin flipped and forgotten.

He was half asleep, leaning against the mast, when you said quietly:

“Usopp… do you think you could ever fall in love with someone on this ship?”

He blinked, then sat up. “Uh… I mean… maybe?”

You smiled, heart pounding. “Like… someone you spend every day with. Someone who makes you laugh. Someone you trust.”

His face flushed, but he shrugged. “I guess. Depends.”

Your throat felt tight. “What about someone like me?”

He went still.

Too still.

“I mean,” you said quickly, “hypothetically. Would you ever…?”

You didn’t finish the sentence. Your lungs felt full again—tight, ready to betray you.

Usopp looked away, the moonlight catching on the edge of his jaw. He swallowed.

“I don’t… like you that way.”

The words came out soft. Hesitant. But they were sharp enough to shred the petals already growing inside you.

You froze. “Oh.”

“I mean—you’re great,” he added quickly. “You’re funny, and you’re brave, and you’re… really pretty, actually. I just… I don’t want to mess things up between us.”

It was worse than rejection. It was mercy, sharpened into guilt.

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Of course.”

You turned away before he could see the bloom slip past your lips.

You stayed away after that.

No more late-night watches together. No more brushing shoulders. You smiled when spoken to. You laughed when appropriate. You kept your distance.

And you got worse.

You stopped eating.

Nami noticed first. “Hey,” she said one morning, her voice gentle. “You okay?”

You rolled over in bed and looked at the orange haired girl

You nodded. “Yeah I’m ok I’m Just not hungry. Thank you for asking. I think I’m gonna sleep for a bit I’m feeling a bit under the weather.”

She looked at you with a skeptical eye “ok but if you start feeling worse then you should go see chopper.” Then she left and closed your door behind her.

Robin didn’t ask. She simply handed you a paper-wrapped bundle the next evening—a dried blue speckled rose , pressed flat and delicate, tied with string. Her look said: I know. But I won’t push.

You started sleeping more. Or pretending to. It’s kinda hard to sleep when every few minutes you were coughing violently. You hid away in your room throwing the petals into the see out of your window. You didn’t want them to see.

One night, you woke up choking.

Blood and petals filled your mouth. You staggered out of bed and collapsed in the corner of the storage room again, clutching at your chest like you could dig the pain out with your fingers.

The petals were now full blown roses stem and all. Your coughs had transformed into deep and violent ones.

You realized, distantly, that the disease had entered its final stage.If the love wasn’t returned—or if it was rejected—you’d die.

You thought about surgery again. About the stories where a doctor could remove the petals, clean your lungs, erase the love.

But then… you’d forget him. Forget the way he laughed when his lies got too ridiculous even for him. Forget how his fingers twitched when he was nervous. Forget the way your name sounded in his voice.

You remained firm in your decision. You’d die before you’d ever forget the way that he made you smile. Or his laugh. Or his stories. You’d die before you forget him

You wrote everything down Into the small leather-bound journal Your thoughts, your symptoms, your love.

Each entry more desperate than the last:

Day 9:

I think he knew. I think he lied to spare me. But the truth hurts more.

Day 13:

Robin gave me a flower. She didn’t say anything. That’s worse somehow. I think I’m down to weeks. Maybe less.

Day 15:

I hope he tells a story about me when I’m gone. Even if it’s a lie. I’ll take that.

Day 18:

I love him. I love him. I love him. I’m sorry. I’d rather die than stop loving him.

The final fall came fast. It was early morning. The sky was bruised with clouds and salt.

You tried to get up, to go above deck and pretend again. But your legs gave out halfway up the stairs. You fell hard, your body curling against the wood as your lungs seized.

Flowers spilled from your mouth in frantic, jerking gasps. Blue, purple, red. Beautiful and wrong.

You tried to call for help, but no sound came out. Your body too weak to climb the steps any further. Cough after violent cough. Flower after blood soaked flower. You laid across the stairs curled into yourself a single blue speckled rose in your hand. Tear streaming down your face. Your eyes slowly shutting

Everything dimmed.

You heard someone shout your name. Footsteps. The distant sound of Robin’s voice calling for Chopper.

But your vision was already fading.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t see.

Time moved by in slow motion. How long had you been sitting here? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

The last thing you felt was the warmth of the deck beneath your cheek and the bitter taste of petals blooming in your throat.

Then, nothing.

You were gone. They said you died quickly. But you knew you had been dying for the better part of two months.

Your lifeless body collapsed near the steps. Blood and petals surrounding your body.a single rose in your hand bloody but beautiful.

Usopp couldn’t believe it—not at first. You had been fine just days ago. Tired, maybe. A little distant. But nothing like this. He thought you had a cold and didn’t want everyone else to catch it.

So when Chopper came sprinting up the deck yelling for help, and the others followed the trail of blue and violet petals to your body, cold and curled in on itself like a fallen blossom, Usopp didn’t understand.

He didn’t move. Not right away.

He stood at the edge of the ship, eyes on the sea, hands gripping the railing hard enough to hurt. The wind slapped his cheeks. His knuckles went white.

And then he heard it.

Nami’s voice, broken and furious.

“It was hanahaki.”

A silence fell over the deck like a sudden fog.

Usopp turned.

“…What?”

“She had hanahaki disease,” Robin said gently, standing beside the pile of petals that had once been your final breaths. “And none of us noticed in time.”

Usopp’s throat tightened. “That’s not— but she wasn’t in love with anyone.”

But even as the words came out, they felt hollow.

Robin didn’t look at him. Hands behind her back holding your journal. She approached him slowly holding out something “You should see this.”

She handed him a small leather book, worn and slightly bent at the corners.

Your name scribbled in marker all across the cover. It was your journal.

Usopp’s fingers trembled as he took it.

He didn’t open it right away. He stood there, arms hanging, as the sea roared around him. Zoro stood back with a pained grimace. Sanji, uncharacteristically quiet, lit a cigarette with shaking hands and turned his back to the wind.

Luffy stood farther off, head bowed silently a single tear fell from his eyes

Usopp sat down by the mainmast, out of the way, and opened the journal.

⸻

The first page was dated nearly 2 months ago.

I think it started after that last port. The cough, the tightness. I thought it was a cold. Then came the petals.

I knew what it was. Hanahaki. And I knew who caused it.

Usopp blinked, his chest suddenly tight.

He turned the page.

I’ve loved Usopp for a long time. He’s so loud, and awkward, and kind, and real. He makes me feel like stories matter. Like I matter.

I didn’t mean to fall in love. But it happened. And now I can’t stop it.

I don’t think he’ll ever see me that way. I’m not the kind of person people choose. I’m not skinny or glamorous. I chubby and plain. He would never ever look in my direction.

Still, I tried.

I sat closer. I made excuses to talk. I drew him pictures. I listened to every lie he told like it was gospel.

I thought maybe, maybe, he felt something too.

Usopp’s hands trembled as he read your diary through a heavy flow of tears.

He remembered the drawing. The one you’d handed him weeks ago. Him riding a sea monster like some comic book hero. You’d laughed when he stared at it too long, and he’d laughed back, pretending it didn’t make his heart race.

He turned another page. More petals were pressed between the sheets.

I asked him. Stupidly. I asked if he could ever like someone like me. He said no. I think he was trying to be kind. But I started dying that day.

Usopp’s throat closed. He gasped—actually gasped—like the petals were growing in his chest now. He remembered it vividly. Your voice in the dark. Your cautious tone.

“What about someone like me?”

He had panicked. Because the answer was yes. The answer was always yes but he didn’t want you to know that. He had liked you for months. Hell, maybe longer. You were brave, and warm, and had this gravity about you. You made his hands sweat and his chest tighten, and he hadn’t known what to do with that kind of power.

So he’d lied. To protect you from the truth, he thought. Really it was to protect him from your rejection. And now you were dead.

He read until the end. Every page. Every painful, honest sentence. The final entry was written in shaky handwriting, the ink smudged.

I think this is it. I can’t breathe anymore. It’s hard to move. But I want to write this before I go. I love Usopp. I love him so much it hurts. Even if he never loves me back, I’m glad I got to feel something so huge. So all-consuming. I hope he remembers me. Maybe even tells a story about me. Even if it’s a lie, I’ll take it.

I hope he knows I didn’t die hating him.

I died loving him.

Yours, always.

Usopp sat in silence long after the last line blurred through his tears.

Zoro approached first, quiet and tense.

“You okay?”

Usopp didn’t answer.

Sanji leaned against the rail, arms crossed. “You read it all?”

Usopp nodded.

“She loved me,” he whispered. “And I… I killed her.”

“Don’t say that,” Nami said, her voice sharp. “You didn’t know.”

“I did!” he shouted, standing up so fast the book fell from his lap. “I knew she liked me. I felt it. And I lied because I thought… I thought I was protecting her. But all I did was make her die thinking she wasn’t enough!”

The deck went still.

Robin stepped forward. “Then you have a choice to make.”

Usopp looked up, hollow-eyed.

“There may be a way,” she said.

This is the blue speckled rose in question.