A hobbyist: streamer, writer and rare ship enjoyer

Day 3

It's been three days since Sabo woke up on a deserted island. His head was still hurting more than not. His wounds were healing slowly and hopefully okay. He did find clean water and was cleaning them and keeping them covered with what was remaining of his sail. It was torn beyond repair anyway.

He could recall his name. Ace's and Luffy's. Whoever they were, they were probably important. He'd recall it in time. 

Dinner was wild boar. He should see if there are alligators on this island.

Day 10

His head is starting to hurt less. The island he's stuck on is small, but not so small that he'd have problems with food if he has to stay longer. He has no maps, even if he still has his navigational tools. No alligators so far. 

He found a big hollow tree not too far from the beach and the river. It's his base for now.

Month 1

He misses Ace. 

He misses Luffy.

Dadan and her gang. Even Garp.

Month 2 

He's pretty sure birds are talking to him. But birds don't talk.

Month ???

How long was he here? No idea, but his clothes don't fit anymore. 

Month ???

A ship crashed in the night. No one alive washed ashore. A whole bunch of useful things washed ashore, though.

Month??? Year???

He needs to get off this island. The birds are talking behind his back. They're in cohorts with the fish. The fish is why he can't leave. It's all their fault….

Month??? Year???

He's been working on the raft for a while now. If he keeps going in one direction, he'll get somewhere eventually. He just needs to collect enough food.

Month??? Year???

He found a weird fruit. Red and yellow and all swirly. Luffy said Devil Fruits are swirly. 

He ate it. It tasted gross. 

Month??? Year???

The fruit turned him into one of the birds. Did the birds bring it here? Were they trying to help?

Birds are forgiven.

Fish are still evil. Scaley bastards know what they did. If not for fish, he'd be with Luffy and Ace and not here. 

Month??? Year???

He has no idea how long he was at sea. 

Meat is gone.

Fruit is running out.

He's not eating fish. They would sink him again.

Month??? Year???

There's land in the distance. A town too. Towns have food. 

Towns need money, the birds remind him.

He has money. From the shipwrecks. He's not a fish. He knows money is important.

Month??? Year???

The raft is sinking. He's nearly at the dock. Maybe he can reach it. If not, he can try flying. Maybe he should have learned that first?

This is not Home. He can't go there. He needs to go away from home. Fish were in cohorts with home.

Hahas to jump off the raft onto the dock as it sinks. His knots were too weak. Whatever. He has his bag with him.

"Where's the nearest restaurant?" He wondered out loud, and a fisherman told him the direction. He's a bit weary to trust him, but if he's killing fish, he can't be bad. Even if eating them is Bad. 

Ignoring that he goes to the restaurant. They have no crocodile. And offer him fish instead. Disgusting. He picks chicken. Damn fake birds. Real birds fly. 

He'll have to learn. First, Grand Line, then he can learn. Be a real bird. Sky is away from the fish. Sky is good.

As he's eating, someone starts a ruckus. So he knocked them out. Apparently, Marines would give him money if he got the guy to them. He doesn't like Marines. Not sure why, but so far his gut didn't steer him wrong.

But it's a solid excuse to get into their base. Marines must have a map. Turns out maps are expensive. So he finished eating, paid, and dragged the unconscious pirate to the Marines.

He forgot how noisy and crowded cities are. People packed like damn fish. He shudders and walks faster. He needs money. Then clothes and a map to know where the hell he is. And then to get away. Far away. To Grand Line.

Marines are annoying. And make no sense. Like fish. How many people does it take to exchange one restaurant terrorising pirate for money?

Once it's just him and the clerk and he has what he came here for, he decides to knock the man out. He has maps. What does he need maps for when not travelling? Sounds like something fish would do. 

Once he's satisfied with the loot he stashed in his bag, he left the office. Act natural. They won't realise anything happened if you act like everything is okay. 

But then another thought entered his mind.  -  They must have more money. And his bag still has room. And he can get another one. Bigger one. Later.

Humming to himself and watching out for more Marines, he explores until he finds the treasury. Or at least he thinks it's the treasury. There are guards.

"There's an attack!" He yelled and hid in an empty room and waited. It was lucky someone noticed the clerk he knocked out and rang the alarm. It would make leaving harder. But he could stay hidden until the Marines calmed down.

Hearing two sets of footsteps run past the door, he peeked outside. Clear. So he sneaked into the guarded room.

Bingo. It was full of stuff. Coins and banknotes in chests. Weapons. Likely confiscated. He picked out a dagger. Just in case. It would be easy to hide. He filled his bag, and one he found there with more money and some gems. They were pretty and shiny and easier to carry than their worth in cash. Or at least he assumed so.

Well, the new bag was quite deep. Deeper than it looked. "You're not a normal bag," he hummed. A bottomless bag? Nearly bottomless? With a grin, he quickly used the bags kept in the treasury to rearrange his things. Banknotes in one and then in the Super Bag. Same with coins. And gems. And maps and his navigation tools. And even shoved some extra bags. 

"If I find their armoury…. Best not to stay too long," he decided, looking out the window. The Marines were calming down. 

This window was a no-go for an exit. Too visible and a bunch of Marines in the courtyard. So he slung the bag over his shoulder and went to look for a better window. 

Marines were not absolute morons. Windows going out to the back of the base were small and had bars for safety. So he just decided to do something even fish wouldn't expect. 

Walk out the front door.

"You're still here?" someone asked.

"Sorry, got lost," Sabo shrugged, grinning slightly. 

And he was out like that. With a slow, relieved sigh, he went to get new clothes first. 

A big hat and a scarf to hide his identity were his priority. So his family and agents of fish can't recognise him. Seeing a set of goggles, he picked that too. 

Now one more meal and back to the docs to find someone going to, according to his map, Loguetown. He'd have a better chance of reaching the Grand Line from there.

There was one problem. Every ship he checked stopped at Baratie. A floating restaurant. No problem in itself. But from the flyer, he saw it looked like a fish. 

Bad.

But he couldn't stay here too long. And there was no guarantee any other ship wouldn't stop there. So he paid for the cheapest room on a cruise ship leaving the earliest. He'd just stay in his room when they stopped there.

Being a cruise ship captain in East Blue might be boring in comparison to other Blues, and undoubtedly the Grand Line. But Jameson still saw plenty of interesting passengers. Obvious pirates hiding from Marines by pretending they're civilians. Young nobles leaving their cushy manors for the first time. People who got a sudden influx of money and decided to have fun. And so on. Interesting and fun in the sea of the same kind of rich, boring, pompous assholes. At least they paid well.

But this passenger was something else. A young man in new and clean but still clearly travel clothes. And not casual noble traveller attire. It looked like he was planning to rough it out in the wild at any moment. No bulky baggage. Just one bag he was clutching closely to himself as he boarded. The lower half of his scarred face was covered by his scarf, and the top shadowed by his hat. Thin and tall. Reminded him of street cats back home. Ready to be nice for a scrap of food but biting and scratching the moment they have what they wanted.

He ate with a solid appetite as expected of a growing young man. Even if his portions freaked out other passengers, at least he had manners, at least until fish was placed in front of him, at which point he started rambling about fish 'being behind everything' and ' utterly vile'. Not his problem, more fish for others.

Of course, it was just his luck that Buggy the Clown attacked them just a bit over a day away from Baratie. And the owner of the company cheaped out on security. Again. Just because the last three cruises were undisturbed.

At least the clearly mentally unwell teenager wasn't amongst the passengers and staff rounded up on the deck as the pirates searched the ship. He probably is hidden pretty well somewhere.

It wasn't everyone. Buggy thought annoyed. Someone was hiding, and his crew couldn't find them. Whatever, so long as he got his treasure, it didn't matter. He wasn't in the mood to blow up this particular ship. That signature really creeped him out. 

There was clearly something wrong with whoever that… He froze as a teenager? It was hard to say with how covered they are. Came out yawning. Scars all over his face, most prominently on the left side of his face. D-fangs and silver tooth caps glinted in the sun. Messy, wavy blonde hair tied in a messy ponytail. He didn't have to strain his out-of-practice observation to recognise that this person is the source of that creepy Haki.

Myriad eyes darting around unblinking. Wildfire ravaging a deserted island. Wings beat over open seas. Scarred hands reaching for a fraying rope.

"Oh, this is a hostage situation?" he asked, stretching as red feathered wings manifested from under his cloak alongside a weird branch-like tail. "How about you let us all go, and…" As he spoke, he sauntered to where both vessels were nearly touching and spun on one leg. "I don't burn down both ships," he grinned, a feather he was twirling in one hand suddenly became the centre of a ball of fire as his wings burned as well. "Either way, it's not a problem for me."

He could have been bluffing. He might not know how to fly. Just be crazy. Buggy knows how hard it is to master a Devil Fruit. But there was another problem. 

He reminded him of an old friend. A friend who'd undoubtedly instantly like the kid. Who was he kidding? Save for the clear insanity of some level, any of them would adopt him given the chance. A little pyromaniac with feathers.

He's not going to kill Mini Crow. He's not a monster. "Fine, this ship is boring anyway," he shrugged to his crew and the hostage's shock. Plus, good ships are hard to come by in the East. He can't risk Circus burning down.

The kid stepped to the side, fire on his wings and a feather in his hand, dying down.

"Watch out for fish, they're sneaky," the teen waved, and Buggy really wished he had stayed away. Definitely crazy. But also not his problem.

Sabo hummed, happy his bluff had worked. "That went well," he nodded, pocketing his feather. Best not to leave any behind for fish to get their scaly fins on them.

"Thank you so much, I didn't expect any strong pirate crews so close to Baratie," the captain chuckled nervously as Sabo stared at the retreating pirates with his head tilted. There was something off about their captain. Not his problem. 

"No need to thank me, just let me know early when we're close to the Restaurant so I can eat ahead of it," he shrugged. Eating at a restaurant sounded nice. But not if it looks like a fish. He could wait until Loguetown. 

The next morning, a couple of hours from their stop at Baratie, Jameson went to let the young man who refused to introduce himself. He knocked. No answer. "We'll be at Baratie in two hours," he said a bit louder than he had knocked.

Still nothing. "Sir? Is everything okay?" Has the teenager overdone it with the fire show the day before? Devil Fruits are rare. Yesterday was the first time he saw anyone using them up so close. With a polite apology, he unlocked the door and looked inside.

The bed was empty. No duvet. No pillow. No blanket that they left there in case of cold nights. Just a bare mattress. "Sir?" he asked, looking about. Did he go to the restaurant already? 

Then he looked at the closet.

Inside, on the stuffed in and spilling out of the closet duvet, clutching his bag, barely covered by the blanket. Dressed in the same clothes he wore the whole time. Was the mystery teenager. Blue eyes, one paler than the other and surrounded by a massive scar. His whole face is covered in scars. His lips were starting to collect marks from his own teeth. Curled up in the closet against the pillow.

"Ist mornin' a'redy?" he mumbled.

"We'll be arriving at Baratie in about two hours," the captain told him. Proud he didn't flinch as the teen yawned, showing crooked teeth and fangs and silver tooth caps. He was a noble once. Or is. Just a peculiar one.

"Than'u," I'll be down soon. Best eat before we get there so chefs can relax," he grinned, his paler eye drifting slightly until he blinked. Then it seemed to focus better. 

"I'll let them know," the captain said, not knowing what else to say and after being thanked again, left. He's taking time off once he leaves this kid in Loguetown. Kid? Teen? Did it matter with someone like him?

Verdant Wave stopped at Baratie once every two weeks on its trip between Loguetown and Goa. Zeff was used to it. And the sudden influx of excited customers. It's good for business even if Eggplant complains.

He was not used to anyone staying behind. Glaring at his restaurant. 

"Kid really doesn't like fish," Captain Jameson let him know. Most of Verdant's staff was wary around Baratie's chefs. Not Jameson. He was always willing to chat about what's going on in the world.

"Interesting," Zeff hummed, glancing again at the teen. He glared a bit more and then turned around after offering the restaurant a rude gesture. With a chuckle, Zeff activated his observation for the first time in many years.

Myriad eyes darting around unblinking. Wildfire ravaging a deserted island. Wings beat over open seas. Scarred hands reaching for a fraying rope.

A shiver went down his spine. Just what does a teenager go through to be this broken? 

"He already ate; he was really insistent on that, and it was the least we could do to thank him for saving us from Buggy yesterday," Jameson sighed, lighting a cigarette. "Must have been through a lot, slept in the closet. Fully dressed, clinging to his bag."

Zef hummed again. "Maybe a pirate raid."

"Would explain all the scars and why he wants to go to Loguetown, the safest damn place in the East since Captain Smoker got assigned there," Jameson sighed, breathing out smoke.