#chae thoughts

somewhere in the past pt.1

summary: The world moves forward, but ghosts never rest. A familiar ship on the horizon. A name she has not spoken in years. A storm long overdue. Some things were meant to stay buried. Some things refuse to be forgotten.

c.w. : MAJOR SPOILERS for One Piece Film: Red, angst, mentions of violence, plot centric

Disclaimer: Reader is called "Saram" meaning "Human/Person"

happy birthday Shanks, you childish, unhinged, serious blasted pirate, love you.

part 2

Saram always believed herself to be Shanks' daughter, his blood daughter, born from a one night stand with a beautiful woman in a nameless island, despite not having the same hair and eyes as him, she called herself his daughter. His one and only daughter. She was was not someone who could be replaced or forgotten, family is never left behind, he promised her and she believed him, who else would she believe if not her own father? If not her own father who saved her when her mother had left her behind in death, if not her father who gave her a warm home when she was stood in the cold, snowy alley, then who?

Laughter echoed throughout the deck as she watched perched on top of a crate, cheek resting on her fist as she watched the crew celebrate Uta’s birthday, a smile on her lips as she watched Shanks laughed with the four year old on his shoulders, she cradled a mug of juice to herself with her other hand, watched as Beckman looked frustrated at Shanks' antics but the twitch of his lips was unmistakable, he was not annoyed, he was enjoying this.

Uta had turned four, the dual haired girl looking more and more like Shanks as she grew from a baby, the red of her dual hair made her seem like Shanks' daughter, an appearance that named her as his. Saram smiled as Uta giggled, babbling leaving her as she was hoisted around, she really loved the younger girl. Hongo and the others gestured and called her over and she ran to them, leaving the mug on the crate alone as she ran into the arms of Shanks; Uta giggled on top of Shanks' shoulders while Saram smiled brightly as his large, warm hand ruffled her her hair, caressing her face with love.

This was perfect, this was the best life she could ask for, her perfect life, she was happy, her crew and her sister, and most of all she had her fath—

“Saram!”

Her eyes snapped open before closing them immediately as the harsh sun peered directly into her irises, she groaned, rubbing her face as she stretched her arms above her head, she noticed the crate she was on top of and realizes that she must have fallen asleep after training with Dorry. She looked up at the towering figure of Beckman, his cigar between his lips as he looked down at her, hand on his hip.

“You missed afternoon training.” He said, voice not unkind but not soft either, her eyes looked up into his, they weren't as kind as she remembered them to be, Beckman had kinder eyes, he may have been a tough man but he used to be kind to her, nice to her, all she can see now is disappointment and her skin crawls.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, “I didn't realize the time.” 

“You should be more alert, sleeping while you should be training is careless, don't you think?”

“Sorry, Beckman.” Saram apologized again.

His eyes studied the eleven year old for a moment, her eyes were downcast as he caught sight of the blisters and cracked skin on her hands, he remembers that Dorry trained her in the morning and wonders how harsh he was.

Saram kept looking down, she knew he was disappointed, he probably was thinking that Dorry hadn't trained her hard enough, that her hands were too pretty to belong to a pirate, that she wasn't trying enough, she knew because no one knew this crew better than Saram, even more than they knew themselves.

“I'll go and see if Lime Juice needs help in the storage.” She runs off before Beckman can say anything more, he frowned ever so slightly as she ran off.

Saram's heart pounds as she runs to the storage room, she doesn't want to see it, that look of disappointment that everyone seems to carry in their eyes, the look that never leaves them when they look at her, the look that makes her skin crawl and her lungs burn, she hated it, she didn't want their pity, she didn't want to be a disappointment.

“Calm down, stop acting like a child.” She chided herself quietly as she walked by the kitchen, feet stopping before she could understand why, ah..., she chewed the skin of her lower lip as she blinked. Lucky and Uta, making cupcakes, smiling and laughing, not a care in the world. She walked away quietly, her heart beating slowly as she made her way to the storage room.

She didn't know when they stopped looking for her to show her interesting things, to show her weapons, to show her books, to show her recipes, to show her love. It was a blurry memory, Saram didn't put much thought to it, except on cold, moonlight nights when she sat with everyone on deck to have dinner, loud laughter and clanking of metal against plates, the jokes, the shanties, the stories - as a child she loved meal times, the warmth it brought her, the way she would wait eagerly for dessert.

Saram smiled as Rockstar placed a piece of meat on her plate, she thanked him and he nodded from across her, the sound of loud laughter caught their attention and they looked at the source, the bright lights were a failure in comparison to the glow of Uta and the crew, warm and kind, Uta grumbled playfully as Shanks rubbed her head while sitting beside her, Beckman across them, Hongo on the other side beside Uta: everyone was scattered around the table, interacting, Rockstar also began talking to the other recruits.

Her eyes were on Shanks and Uta, the similarities between them, Uta’s dual hair side of red and Shanks' red, their smiles and even their actions were similar: Saram smiled as she watched them, watching how Shanks snuck pieces of vegetables onto the young girl's already full plate, watching as Beckman lightly pushed a glass of water towards her, watching as Lucky promised deserts after dinner, watching and watching and watching.

Tearing her gaze away, Saram focused onto her own plate, the piece of meat red and seared, eyeing the only thing on her plate with an unknown gaze she picked up her utensils and cut into it, taking a piece onto her fork she brought it to her mouth and bit into it, chewing. She kept cutting into it and chewing, cut and chew, her movements practiced, she blinked slowly, the smile still on her lips, she chewed as she pondered.

It's cold.

Lucky was picking up the dishes and cleaning up when he stopped, staring at the plate at the end of the table, the sight of the half eaten meat and barely eaten cookie, he sighed, Saram, shaking his head and cleaning up the plate, Lucky put the dishes to be washed.

Lucky didn't know when Saram stopped finishing her meals, when she stopped asking for seconds, when she stopped eating the desserts he made, when she stopped making food with him, when she stopped coming to him. She used to spend hours in the kitchen with him after practice with Beckman but now he barely saw her, not at breakfast, not at lunch, not at dinner - she was never in sight but always somewhere on the ship, unless it was her chore time or her training time.

He wondered if Saram still liked those chocolate chip cookies that he used to make.

Yasopp was dozing off in a corner on deck when he heard footsteps, too light, too quiet to be of the burly and loud men of the crew, to soft to be the loud stomps of Uta. He peeled an eye open, watching quietly as Saram walked towards the railing, looking around if someone was there, he was pretty sure she couldn't see him as he practically hidden in the shadows.

Curiously, he tried to understand why Saram was sneaking here so quietly, so tense, he grinned thinking she must have committed some mischief or escaped training, as Uta often did, and that must be why she was sneaking around. He was about to get up and go tease her when he heard a sniffle. 

His grin faltered as she wiped away at her eyes constantly, sitting on the ground and leaning against the railing. She cried quietly, wiping away her tears, snuffling. There was a bitter feeling in his chest as he watched her quietly cry. Yasopp felt something in him falter as he watched her quietly cry in a secluded place, away from prying eyes, not a sound out of her. 

Yasopp was about to go to her when Dorry’s voice called her, “Saram! Training time!”

He expected her to not reply or move, to his surprise she yelled out, “Coming!”

He quietly watched as she wiped her eyes, pats her cheeks, takes a deep breathe in and his heart stammers as she looked perfectly calm in a matter of seconds. Yasopp’s grip on the crate tightened as he watched her walk away.

Elegia was a kingdom that Saram heard much about, from gossip and rumors, from information in novels and maps. She leaned against the railing beside the steering, sweaty from the afternoon practice as she watched the island draw closer, her eyes glanced to her side, watching Shanks navigate the worn-out wooden wheel, the ease with which he moved it with his hands never failed to amaze her.

“Do you think someday I can do that?”

She had asked him once, years ago when she was younger, smaller, louder, more bright.

“Of course! Who else can if not you?” 

He had smiled back then, pearly whites flashing, red eyes gleaming, mirth in them, she loved his red eyes, they were her favorite color: carmine.

But that was when she was young, when she was his only daughter, when she was still someone who could push her rights over him. Now gone was that little girl with mirth and that man with bright carmine eyes.

“You wanna try?” He suddenly says, snapping her out of her thoughts as she turns to face him for a moment.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you're old enough to try, no?” He gave a smile but she felt cold, her skin crawling.

“I'd rather not, maybe you should tell Uta.” She tapped her fingers against the railing, instinctively, a habit that developed over the years, a habit that she didn't know.

His smile fell slightly, the beginning of a frown on his lips, carmine eyes narrowing slightly as he steered the wheel, eyes on her.

“You always wanted to do it, didn't you?”

She blinked, right, she always did want to do it. She believed hat it was her right as his daughter to be the first among other children to steer it. To hold it. To navigate.

But all she remembers as she glanced at the steering was that one night on her birthday when she saw Shanks teaching a much younger Uta how to navigate the wheel. The wheel that he never allowed her to touch when she was that young. The smile on Shanks' face as he taught Uta and the quiet giggles of Uta; secrets of a moonlit night that Saram was not supposed to be apart off.

She smiled and looked forward, away from him, away from the wheel, “I grew out of it.”

He didn't answer and she didn't look back, Saram had long grown tired of looking back, of looking for warmth that evaded her, of looking for light that would help her. She had grown tired of constantly looking back and never seeing her father look back at her with the same adoration she used to see in his eyes.

When the ship docked, Saram found herself staring at the Kingdom of music with awe: it was beautiful. Breathtaking, even. Her heart stammered as she stared at the architecture as they got ready to unload. Uta was the first one on the ship, smiling and excited tagged along by a grinning Shanks and Yasopp, Beckman and the other following close behind. 

She would have walked off alone if not for Dorry smiling down at her and extending his hand at her, majorly his finger, the giant was warm, he felt like warmth on a cold summer night, the scent of the nature clung to him and she found herself holding his finger with her hand which was way too small compared to his giant finger.

“Let's go lass.” He smiled at her.

Saram nodded, her skin didn't crawl.

The city itself was beautiful, mesmerizing, drawing in people and bustling with merchants. She walked around, eyes darting from stall to stall, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she looked through the different wooden carvings. Her hands picked up a small wooden figure, eyes slightly lidded as her eyes raked over the details, a slight parting of her lips as she stared at it longingly in her hands.

“You gon’ buy that, kid?” The shopkeeper asked suddenly and Saram jolted out of her thoughts. Normally, Saram didn't have any interest in buying things so she didn't carry beri. Uta didn't have to ask for money because Shanks or Beckman was always with her, buying her whatever she wanted.

She pursued her lips with a shake of her head, a small smile as she stared down at the figure again before sighing, “Ah, no, just looking.”

As she was about to keep it down, a hand appeared from beside her as someone stood behind her, she stiffened.

“How much?”

Her eyes widened slightly as the merchant wa spoken to by the man behind her, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the wooden figure.

“2300 beri.” The shopkeeper said and Saram blinked, it was too much. This wasn't worth 2300 beri. She didn't need this. She kept convincing herself in her head as she kept it back down.

“We'll ta—”

“Thank you but we won't be taking it.” She said and kept the figure back down, she didn't need something so expensive. She didn't. Grabbing the hand of the man she started to walk, not once looking back at the wooden figure of the girl and her father: the girl was in frozen motion, smiling and about to run into her father's arms who had his arms wide open for her, bent on one knee.

“Saram, I can buy that for y—”

“It's too expensive.” She says, eyes on the road, hand still on his wrist as she kept walking, she knew he'd go back the moment she let go.

“It's not that expensive, I'm the doctor of the Red Haired Pirates.” He huffed.

“Hongo,” she stopped walking, standing in the middle of the street as she kept looking forward, “I don't need these useless things.”

Hongo stared at the back of her head as they stood still, a sigh leaving him, he could not understand why Saram would not let him buy that thing, she obviously looked happy with it her hands, he saw the smile on her lips as she held it. He also saw the light dim in her eyes when she was about to keep it back down after the shopkeeper asked if she would buy it.

He moved before thinking, hand moving first as he spoke to the man about the price, 2300 beri was too much for a wooden figure but if it meant that he could see her smile like that again, it was nothing. All he knew that he was tired of seeing her eyes lack light and her always hiding away, when did she become so quiet? She used to run and laugh and clingy to him, and now she barely spoke.

Saram knew that gaze on the back of her head, that same gaze that has haunted her for the past four years, that look of pity, the gaze as if she were some kind of puzzle, as if she was some kind of anomaly. She hated it. She hated how they made her feel, feel like she was too much, too little, too far, too close.

“Do you want ice cream?” He asked suddenly, Saram paused, glancing back at him, his blonde hair and those eyes that felt like she were an exotic animal for the view of everyone.

“Sure.” She shrugged.

Ice cream was nice.

Saram walked by Hongo’s side, eyes simply looking around boredly as she kept her hands in the pockets of her pants. Hongo looked down at the young girl, noting how she seemed bored of everything, his fingers twitched, how different she was to Uta, the hair, the eyes, the way they moved, the way they talked, the way they lived.

His eyes traced her as they stood in line for their order. Saram's eyes were dark, a murky color unlike Shanks' carmine eyes, unlike Uta's bright eyes. 

“What flavor do you want, Hongo?” She asked and his thoughts came to a stop.

“Strawberry..” He said, surprised, cringing in his mind about his preference in the ice cream, he didn't like strawberry at all, why did he say it? He saw a pause in her stature before she turned to the cashier and spoke. He would just bear through the horrible flavor of strawberry.

“One lemon sorbet and one chocolate, please, the chocolate in a cup and the lemon one in a cone.” She said, and his eyes widened slightly.

Chocolate?

He wordlessly paid for the treats as he sat down with her at an empty table. 

Saram had paused when he had said strawberry. She blinked before sighing, turning to the cashier, asking for specifics in her order. Hongo didn't like strawberry, his mouth felt bitter if he ate strawberry ice cream and so he avoided that particular flavor, chocolate was always his go to. They sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying their ice cream.

Saram didn't ask him why he said strawberry.

Hongo didn't ask her how she knew he hated strawberry.

Uta was an amazing singer. Even before the Uta-Uta fruit, she always sang beautifully, so soft, so kind, so soul soothing. When the people of Elegia fawned over the young girl's songs, she simply watched with a small smile on her lips, a barely half-eaten cookie in her hand, sitting on the windowsill in the corner of the large ballroom. The crew were scattered around, laughing, drinking, eating, and having fun. Her eyes went in the direction of Shanks, his crimson hair blazing under the lights, his carmine eyes bright with humor as he drank. 

She blinks slowly as Shanks casts a glance at Uta from across the room, a smile on his lips as he watched her. Saram sees the adoration and love in his eyes, the affection and concern, the softness and kindness - all of which were also directed at her once, now all she sees in his eyes when he looks at her is pity and dissatisfaction, the feeling of rotten food and the smell of sour grapes.

And suddenly the cookie in her hand feels bitter.

The cookie is left on the banner and Saram disappeared into the shadowy crowds of the room once again, heart empty and skin crawling. She was roaming the halls, eyes mindlessly looking around as she walked through the empty corridors, Saram wasn't worried that anyone would be looking for, they never did so she walked around without any care.

She found an empty balcony and decided to slip away there, she froze as she found Lime Juice there. He looked up from looking over the railing, eyes recognizing her in the dark, “Oi, Saram, what're you doing alone?”

"Wandering around, the castle's preeeetty big."

Saram leaned against the railing beside Lime Juice, gazing out over the darkened horizon as the night sky stretched endlessly, a canvas of stars twinkling like distant jewels. It felt peaceful here, away from the noise and the prying eyes. She let out a small breath, a fleeting smile playing on her lips as she casually glanced over at Lime Juice.

"You always seem to find the best spots to hide," Lime Juice remarked, chuckling as he adjusted his stance. "You still running from Yasopp's crazy training?"

Saram shrugged lightly, her smile widening, though there was something slightly absent about it. "You know I was never really good at it. He’s got too much energy. I couldn't keep up."

Lime Juice grinned. "That’s an understatement. I remember when you used to follow me around to escape it. You were like a little shadow, always trailing behind."

Saram’s laugh was soft, a tiny, almost nostalgic sound. "I was small enough to slip away unnoticed. Plus, you always seemed to know where the quiet places were."

"Well, someone had to show you the ropes. You looked like you needed someone to keep you from getting into trouble."

Saram tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was always a model child."

Lime Juice snorted. "Model child, huh? I seem to remember you sneaking off and pretending to help me with cleaning duties when you were younger. You could never sit still for long."

"That was just a phase," Saram said, her tone light and teasing. "I eventually grew out of it."

Lime Juice raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "I’m not sure anyone could really grow out of that energy. You were always the one who found trouble without even trying."

She chuckled quietly, folding her arms and leaning on the railing. "I guess I did have a knack for it."

They both fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the distant crashing of waves against the shore below. The stars seemed to blink in time with the rhythm of the sea, and Saram let the quiet settle around them.

"Guess you’ve changed, though," Lime Juice said after a while, his tone softer now. "You used to be more lively. I don’t see you running around anymore, always hiding in the shadows."

Saram's eyes flicked to him briefly, a flash of something unreadable passing before she turned her gaze back to the horizon. "I’m not a kid anymore," she replied simply, her voice steady but distant.

Lime Juice studied her briefly, his face softening slightly, "Yeah, I guess none of us really are."

A comfortable spanned between them as they peered over the railing at lights and the bustling city of Elegia's kingdom, Saram glanced up at Lime Juice and for a moment was back to when she was younger, louder, clinging to him as Yasopp yelled in exasperation, the laughter of the crew and mirth in Shanks' eyes - the next moment she was back to her present, in the dim lighted balcony beside Lime.

Their time was cut short as Lucky's voice called for Lime and the man sported a grin as he gave her hair a playful ruffle before turning to leave, his footsteps fading as he disappeared back into the maze of the castle. Saram’s smile lingered for a moment longer, soft and fleeting before she leaned her chin against the cool metal of the railing. The night stretched before her, a beautiful contrast of vibrant lights and deep shadows.

“It’s pretty.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, almost lost in the sound of distant laughter and music from the celebrations below. The colors from the ballroom flickered like fireflies in the air, a warm glow against the cool night. She could hear the faint melody of the musicians drifting up, still singing their hearts out, though Saram didn’t need to look to know that.

The sea-land breeze tugged at her hair gently, the salty scent of the ocean mixing with the faint sweetness from the bakery below. It was a peaceful night, but the warmth of the scene didn’t quite reach her heart. Saram tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning the distant horizon as she let the sounds of the party fade into the background. In this moment, everything felt so far away, yet so close, like she was both part of it and completely separate from it.

Her smile slowly faded as she let out a soft sigh, eyes still tracing the light below, her thoughts drifting like the stars above.

Despite the beauty around her, it was still cold.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, coming towards her, she looked around before slipping behind a rather large pillar, hiding there as she tried to make herself invisible from the eyes. Saram stiffened as she heard two familiar voices.

"You seemed to really enjoy singing back there." Shanks' voice was warm and kind, like the summer sun on the skin, like the tune of waves playing.

"Hm? I guess..."

Saram finally realized who were there, Shanks and Uta, she quietly stood there, like always, listening to them talk.

"You sure you wouldn't rather sing for a big crowd instead of for us?"

"It's not like that." Uta said, her voice cheery and confident, Saram stared at the ground, leaning against the pillar as they spoke.

"Y'know, Uta..." Shanks began, "Things like peace and equality don't really exist in the world."

Saram's heart stammered, for a moment it felt like he said those things to her, for a moment it felt like Shanks was laying the truth of Saram's life in front of her, she swallowed as Shanks continued speaking, "But your voice..."

"Its the one thing that can bring happiness to everyone in the world."

"What are you talking about?" Young Uta's confused voice rang through the balcony, confused, unable to decipher what Shanks was saying.

But Saram knew.

"You can stay if you want."

Shanks was worried if the life of a pirate was something Uta would want, the seas, the risks: Shanks did not want Uta to go through those things.

"I'll come pick you up once you're the greatest singer in the world."

But Shanks would never leave behind Uta, everyone knew that, Shanks knew that, the crew knew that, Saram knew that. She peeked from behind the shadows of the pillar, Shanks crouched to one knee in front of the little girl.

"Stupid! I'm the Red Haired Pirates' musician!" Uta yelled out and Saram's lip parted slightly: could she ever fight for her place like that? Could she ever claim her place as his daughter?

"If you're asking me to choose between music and leaving.... leaving you guys..." Uta teared up, her small frame shaking, immediately Shanks hugged her, Saram's chest clenched.

"Okay, I get it!"

Saram turned back around and stared down at her feet, the voice of Shanks echoing, "You've got a point. We can ship out tomorrow."

And Saram wondered, what it was like, to be wanted? To be looked at as someone worth seeing? Someone who was worth something.

Shanks looked up as he heard a sound, a cat walked out from behind the pillars and he shrugged it off, his Observational Haki revealing no one in the balcony.

Saram was running.

She didn't care where she was going, she just needed to get away. Away from Shanks. Away from Uta. Away from her unspoken feelings. Away from her feelings,

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps as she ran through the dark hallways, her footsteps muffled against the marble floors of the castle. Her shoes echoed through the halls as she ran, she was on pure adrenaline, her heart ringing in her ears. She didn't know where she was going—only that she needed to go, needed to get away before the ache in her chest swallowed her whole.

Then, in her blind escape, she collided hard into something solid. No—someone. A sharp inhale, the scent of alcohol, gunpowder, and the faintest trace of salt filled her senses as she stumbled back.

"Whoa there—" The familiar, slurred voice barely had time to register before her shoulder crashed into his torso. Strong hands caught her by instinct before she could fall, steadying her, steadying her body - her heart stammering.

Yasopp.

His grin, usually easy and carefree, faltered as he looked down at her, blinking away his drunken haze. The bottle in his grip tilted slightly, forgotten, as his eyes sharpened ever so slightly in concern.

"Saram?" His voice lost its lazy humor.

She stiffened in his hold, her breath catching in her throat. The weight of her emotions, the stifling tightness in her chest, all of it clashed violently against the unexpected warmth of his presence. Why? Why was Yasopp here? Why was he here? Why could no one allow her to even break in peace? What was the meaning of this awful game of fate against her?

His brows furrowed slightly. "Hey... you okay?"

Okay? Was she okay? A question that she despised. If someone needs to ask if the other person is okay, then perhaps that person is not okay.

She shook her head instinctively, stepping back, trying to pull away, but his grip remained firm—not trapping, not forcing, just there. Steady. Present. For a moment, she thought about pushing past him, continuing her run, disappearing into the depths of the castle of Elegia where no one could find her. But Yasopp was watching her too closely now, his usual nonchalance replaced by something more serious.

Something like understanding.

How funny.

How could Yasopp ever perceive to understand her? Understand her when her own father could not?

He looked down at her, eyes scanning her face, searching, as if trying to put together a puzzle he hadn’t realized was broken.

She swallowed, lowering her gaze, his eyes felt like daggers, bitter and rotten, the taste of rotten fruit, the taste of bitter coffee grounds.

"Did something happen?"

Saram clenched her fists at her sides. She wanted to say no. She wanted to shake her head and walk away, but her silence stretched between them, thick and telling.

And Yasopp’s expression darkened just slightly.

Yasopp’s grip loosened just enough for Saram to step back, but his eyes never left her. His usual carefree air was gone, replaced by something unreadable. Something tense.

Saram didn’t want this. She didn’t want him looking at her like that, like she was fragile. Like she was something broken.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Yasopp scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle before shaking his head. “Yeah, sure. Because people who are ‘fine’ run through the halls like the damn castle’s on fire.”

Saram clenched her fists. “I said I’m fine, Yasopp. Just let me go.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy blond hair. "Dammit, Saram, can you stop pretending for one second? You're always so damn quiet, so damn—" He stopped, clicking his tongue in frustration. "You think no one notices how you shrink into yourself? How you barely talk anymore?"

Saram’s heart pounded against her ribs. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stand here and have this conversation—not with him, not with anyone. Not now. Not when she was seconds away from crashing out, from spilling her secrets, her feelings, her heart out. "It doesn't matter," she muttered, turning to walk away.

But Yasopp stepped in front of her. "Like hell it doesn’t!" His voice was sharper now, laced with something he barely ever showed—anger. "You keep acting like you're invisible, like you don’t—like you shouldn’t be here. And I’m sick of it!"

Sick of it?

He was sick of it?

Sick of what? Constantly, having to act as if she doesn't notice that he prefers to train Uta over her? Having to act as if he isn't crueler during training on her than Uta? Having to act as if he actually sees her anymore?

Something in her just broke, his words registering deep into her brain.

Saram’s head snapped up. "Then don’t bother with me!" Her voice cracked as the words left her mouth before she could stop them. "You and everyone else—just stop pretending to care! It’s easier that way, isn’t it?"

Saram knew she should stop. She should just keep quiet. This was wrong. He didn't deserve to listen to her rants.

Yasopp flinched, his grip tightening on the bottle before he set it down with more force than necessary. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Stop talking, please. Don't say anything more to him. He won't understand. None of them will. The small voice in her head begged, crumbled - but it was too late, the dams had been cracked.

"You all act like I’m not here!" she yelled, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "You act like I’m not his daughter! You treat me like I’m some inconvenience, like I'm just—"

Yasopp’s expression twisted, something bitter flashing across his face. "You think we don’t care?!" he shot back. "You think Shanks doesn’t—" He cut himself off, biting his tongue.

But it was too late.

Saram took a step back, the weight in her chest growing heavier, the feeling of bitterness grew. "...Doesn’t what?"

Yasopp cursed under his breath, turning his head away.

"Say it." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was sharp. Unyielding. Pleading.

Yasopp let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head before finally meeting her eyes. "You wanna know the truth, Saram?" His voice was rough, like something he had been holding in for too long. "You were never supposed to exist."

Saram's breath hitched. The world tilted under her feet.

Yasopp kept going, his voice bitter, raw. "You think Shanks ever wanted a kid? You think he planned for you? You think he wanted to be a father at 18? No, Saram. You were a mistake—one the crew had to clean up!"

The words hit like a blade straight to her chest.

Mistake.

The walls felt too close, the air too thin, something in her twisting and pulling. Saram didn’t run.

She couldn’t.

Her legs refused to move, locking her in place as Yasopp’s words echoed in her mind, over and over, sinking deep into the spaces she had long tried to ignore.

You were never supposed to exist.

You were a mistake—one the crew had to clean up.

The words were acid, burning through her chest, leaving her raw and exposed. But Yasopp wasn’t done. He was still caught in the momentum of his anger, his frustration boiling over into something cruel and unfiltered.

"You wanna know why things are the way they are?" Yasopp laughed, but there was no humor in it—only something bitter, something heavy. "Why Shanks never says much about your mother? Why no one talks about it?" He met her gaze, his own eyes darker than she had ever seen. "Because he didn’t even know you existed until she was already dead."

Saram’s breath hitched, her ears ringing, her fingers trembling. The castle felt cold, the hallways dark and eerie.

"He didn’t know, Saram! He never even knew she was pregnant!" Yasopp took a sharp breath, running a hand down his face before glaring at her again. "And by the time he found out? By the time we found out? She was gone, and there you were—a crying, helpless kid with nothing but her name left behind!"

Silence filled the hallway, thick and suffocating.

Saram’s fingers trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

She had never asked about her mother. Not really. She did once, when she was five, sitting with Beckman on deck as the crew partied on the beach, he had been with her, a soft look in his eyes as she sat curled into his side. He had told her: about her young and naive mother, about her reckless and adventurous.

Shanks never talked about her, and the crew never said anything either. A part of her had always assumed—no, hoped—that maybe it was just too painful for Shanks to speak about. That maybe, in his own way, he was protecting her from something.

Back then she believed Beckman's words that her birth was something beautiful, despite a surprise, it was a gift of life, something that was nothing short of a blessing. She was told that Shanks felt guilt for not reaching her before. That he never spoke of her mother because he felt guilt for leaving her mother alone.

Now she knew.

Shanks hadn’t been silent out of grief.

He had been silent because there was nothing to say.

She was never meant to be here. Never planned. Never wanted.

Just a mistake.

She swallowed hard, her throat closing up. "So that’s why…" Her voice was eerily quiet. "That’s why he doesn’t look at me like he does Uta."

Yasopp’s face twisted, but he didn’t say anything.

"That’s why he never—" She stopped, her breath shuddering as she looked past Yasopp, her mind racing back to every moment she had ever questioned her place.

The distance. The way Shanks would smile but never quite reach for her like he did Uta. The way the crew would joke and laugh, but always hold something back, something unsaid.

It made sense now.

It all made sense.

She was never part of their story.

Just an accident they had to carry.

A mistake.

Her hands clenched tighter, her nails biting into her skin as she forced herself to breathe past the crushing weight in her chest. There had to be something she could hold onto. Something that was proof that she was Shanks'. Her lungs were empty. Nothing. She had nothing of Shanks. Not his hair, not his eyes, not his skills; she was an empty slate.

Yasopp ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as if he was only now realizing what he had done. His anger had burned out, but the damage had already been done, the words already spoken, the venom already poisoning her veins; so that's why everyone was pushing her so much.

They wanted to erase anything of Saram that spoke of her mother, of Shanks' mistake, of the burden of having to take care of a child, of having to take care of her.

A mistake.

A burden.

It wasn't indifference in Shanks' eyes she used to see, it was anger, she was a reminder of the burden, of the responsibility forced upon him.

Saram’s eyes were glossy.

Not a single tear fell, but they shimmered under the dim hallway lights, threatening to spill, betraying the weight of everything that had just shattered inside her. She hadn't allowed herself to cry since she was six, hadn't allowed for her feelings to show, she diluted herself until she was barely there.

Yasopp’s breath caught in his throat.

Her expression wasn’t one of anger. It wasn’t even of sadness. It was worse.

It was empty.

The realization crashed into him like a tidal wave, drowning out the last remnants of his fury. The words he had flung so carelessly, the truth he had bared in the heat of the moment—he had assumed she knew.

But she hadn’t.

She hadn’t known.

His stomach twisted violently as the horror of it settled deep in his bones.

Saram never knew.

"You didn’t know…?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Saram took a step back, her small hands trembling, her lips quivering. Something bitter in her eyes, something shattered in her gaze as he stared into her eyes, eyes that had once looked at him as if he were a hero. Yasopp instinctively moved toward her, reaching out, but she recoiled before he could get close, her body tensing as if his presence itself burned.

That hurt more than he expected.

"Saram—"

She shook her head. Once. Twice. Her breaths were uneven, shallow, like she was trying to steady herself but failing miserably.

A mistake.

She had been a mistake all along.

Her mother had died before Shanks even knew she existed. He had never expected her, never waited for her, never longed for her. He hadn't even wanted her. Everything—the way he hesitated, the way he looked at Uta, the way the crew seemed tired of her—everything made sense now.

She was too much.

Too much to deal with. Too much to keep. Too much of something no one had ever wanted.

Saram took another step back.

Her head felt light, like the world was swaying beneath her feet, and she needed to get away. Away from Yasopp. Away from his words. Away from everything she had never known but had always felt.

Yasopp took another step forward, panic creeping into his chest, "Saram."

"If I was Uta...."

Saram’s voice was quiet. Too quiet.

"If I was more like Uta....would you guys have been able to love me more?" She whispered as she looked up at Yasopp's eyes, her throat tight, feeling like she was swallowing glass.

Yasopp’s heart stammered. His breath hitched at the sound of it—so soft, so fragile, as if she wasn’t even sure she existed in this moment.

She stood there, her glossy eyes unfocused, her fingers trembling at her sides. She looked so small, even though she wasn’t a child anymore. She looked like something that had been hollowed out, something that had been left in the cold too long.

Something that had just broken.

Yasopp swallowed, his pulse pounding against his skull as a memory surfaced.

“No one tells her.”

Shanks' voice had been unwavering, absolute.

It was one of the only times the crew had seen him so firm, so unyielding. He had stood before them all, his usual easygoing air absent, replaced by something much heavier.

“She doesn’t need to know. Not now, not ever.”

The crew had been silent. No one had questioned it. Not Benn, not Lucky Roux, not Yasopp himself.

Because they had understood.

Because Shanks, despite everything, had wanted her. He had chosen to take her in. He had wanted to spare her from this pain, from the knowledge that she had never been meant to be here.

They had all promised. And Yasopp had just shattered it all. His throat tightened. "Saram, listen—"

But she took a step back. He watched as her breathing grew shallower, like the weight of it all was closing in around her.

And then — came the shouting.

Yasopp barely had time to react as he grabbed Saram's wrist and pulled her away from the castle windows as they exploded, using his body as a shield. Screams echoed as a swirl of murky red and black flowed out of the top floor where everyone was, where the crew and Uta were. Saram shouted in surprise and fear as fire rained down on the nation of Elegia, Yasopp cursed under his breathe; conflicted between going to help the crew and staying with Saram.

How could he leave when her small hands were clinging to his shirt so tightly?

But he had to, his duty, he needed to-

"Go."

She moved away from him, her voice low and quiet, eyes downcast, "Go help dad and the others, Yasopp."

"Saram-"

Another explosion.

Footsteps running into the hallway they were in. Hongo and Gab appear frantic, calling for him.

"Yasopp, lets go! Saram run to the ship!"

They ran towards the source of the explosions while Saram stared at their drifting backs, Hongo looked back at her and something in his bones crawled as if this was the last time he would see her.

"Snap out of it, Uta! Don't let him take you!" The king yelled, blood dripping down his head as the Red Haired Pirates ran through the burning forest.

Saram coughed as she ran through the fire, dodging the flames, heart stammering in her chest, soot covered her as her feet stamped against the ground. She could hear the king yelling, the crew fighting, the sound of her father-

Saram turned around and faltered, her feet stopping as her eyes widened. The monster screaming before dissolving - Uta. This was done by Uta? Uta's power.... did this? Shanks caught Uta in his hands as she fell, her unconscious body limp in his hold. She felt something her chest tighten as she watched, the flames burning everything around her.

The warmth of Shanks' gaze, the way the crew stood around them, the way he held Uta - Saram watched it all, she was about to run towards them when her mind echoed.

"You wanna know the truth, Saram?"

Her feet slowed down as she watched.

"You were never supposed to exist. You were a mistake—one the crew had to clean up!"

Shanks indifference, Beckman's lingering gaze that never saw her.

"Because he didn’t even know you existed until she was already dead."

The crew's favoritism towards Uta, the way they were always seeing something of more value in Uta.

"She was gone, and there you were—a crying, helpless kid with nothing but her name left behind!"

The bitter taste of coffee, the rotten taste in her mouth.

“If only, you were easier, Saram.”

The tired words of Shanks as she stared at him heartbroken, chest feeling like it was caving.

Saram took one foot back and gasped as she turned away, turned around, frozen in place as the burning debris cracked and fell towards her, she held her arms in front of her face as the world turned dark around her, the last memory seared into her eyes was the sight of Shanks walking away with Uta in his arms.

After laying Uta in a secured bed in the castle room, Shanks walked and left Uta behind. He walked towards Gordon who was getting his wound wrapped by Hongo on the ground.

"Would you mind keeping this a secret from Uta? It'd be cruel to tell her the truth."

"Right. I'll tell the Navy I was responsible." Gordon solemnly replied as he pushed to his feet while Hongo grabbed the kit and packed up, walking away.

"Nah. It should be us."

Gordon, confused, turned sharply towards Shanks as he kept speaking, "Red-Haired Shanks and his crew, the Red Haired Pirates, did this."

"Tell that to Uta." Shanks finished with a slight glint in his eyes, Gordon felt a chill in his bones at the dim gaze in his eyes.

Hongo, turned away and left, realizing the conversation. Gordon, frowned, "You'll leave her....?"

"That girl's got a hell of a voice. We can't keep her cooped up on a ship while we're on the run from the Navy." Shanks kept speaking as he walked pass Gordon, towards his crew, "Please. Make her into the greatest singer in the world."

Gordon watched as the crew walked away, Shanks looked over his shoulder with a smile, "Her singing isn't a crime."

"Shanks...." Gordon dropped to his knees in understanding and realization, "I understand! As the king of Elegia, I, Gordon, swear upon the love my subjects felt for music! I will turn Uta into a sublime singer, who will bring joy to the entire world!" Gordon swore as Shanks and the crew walked away, leaving behind the burning embers of Elegia, as their ship sailed away.

Since that day, the Red Haired Pirates never looked at the Kingdom of Elegia, didn't look back when Uta screamed for them, didn't look back even as they were branded the murderers of the Kingdom of Elegia.

Not until the next dawn when Hongo was bandaging and dressing the wounds of the crew, he stilled, eyes looking around the ship, frowning, Beckman, noticing his sudden alerted gaze, spoke, "Is something wr-"

"Where's Saram?"

A moment of pause as everyone went still, their muscles freezing.

"What do you mean, where's Saram? She is on board....." Gab's voice trailed off as he looked around the ship, the crew, his heart stammering.

Shanks' grip on the bottle loosened as he let it fall to the ground and stood up, eyes shadowed by his hat, his Observation Haki fully unleashed and searching the ship.

"Hongo, did she ever make it to the ship....?" Lime Juice said quietly as he looked at the doctor and then Beckman.

"We saw her board the ship... did we...?" Rockstar murmured.

"She's not here, the ship, she's not on the ship." Yasopp said before Shanks spoke, his jaw tight, "I just came back from knocking on her room, she's not there or anywhere."

"If Saram's not on the ship, then-"

A chill spread through the ship, Shanks' Conqueror's Haki unleased fully, suffocating and dark, heads whipped towards the direction they had left, the direction of destruction, the direction of the destroyed and burning Elegia.

They left her.

They left Saram behind.

They didn't even check whether she was on board or not, whether she was even-

"Was she with anyone?"

"Shanks-"

"Was she with anyone?"

"Calm dow-"

"No one knows. No one saw her. No one was with her!" Shanks yelled, his haki flaring, carmine eyes blazing red as he glared at the crew, "No one!"

"Shanks-" Beckman tried to calm him down.

"Not a single person knows. Not even you! "

His haki exploded as everyone was forced to their knees, "WHERE IS SHE?!"

The newspapers said that only two people survived the destruction of Elegia. Not another person was found alive. No one else was found.

At least that is how the story was spun by King Gordon, Uta and Saram.

In a chamber of the castle, Uta walked in with a tray of food and water, she smiled softly as she entered, "Saram, you feeling better?"

The bandaged girl on bed, sitting up and staring out the window, shifted a second late at the sound of Uta's voice, eyes trailing over her small self, she gave a small smile and nod, "It's a bit sore than before but better."

"You sure?" Uta asked again, frowning, her purple eyes swimming with concern, "Gordon said that the skin was burned off pretty badly, I was scared."

"Yeah, I am sure." Saram smiled and ruffled Uta's hair, "Go and do your lessons with Gordon, I'll be fine."

"Okay...." Uta said quietly, her small figure keeping the tray on the bedside table. Saram turned to look back outside the window, at the door Uta stopped and stared at Saram, her older sister, the one who always stood back, the one who used to stay with her during pirate clashes, the one who secretly unbeknownst to the crew snuck her midnight treats.

Her sister who now stared out the window quietly, bandages peeking out from under her clothes, Uta would never forgive the Red Haired Pirates, she would never forgive them for the destruction of Elegia and the pain they caused Saram. The betrayal, the pain, the suffering, the nightmare - she would never forgive Shanks for what he had done to them.

"Uta."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let hate consume you."

"But-" She paused in her angry rant as Saram glanced back at her over shoulder, the look in Saram's eyes froze her, the same look she would give Uta when she was doing something that was wrong. But she couldn't understand, why was Saram taking their side? Why wasn't she angry!?

"Why are you okay with what Shanks did!? Why!? He left us, abandone-"

"We are pirates, Uta. You, are a pirate. Don't cling to affection or promises of loyalty by anyone, not even dad. Don't drown in the hatred, you will be destroyed."

"I.... hate him, Saram, he... he has to pay...."

"Then become strong."

"Huh?"

"Become so strong that no one can ever hurt you again. I will be here by your side, so flourish Uta. Grow to be the best singer and help those who suffer."

Uta stared at Saram for a moment as she nodded and ran off. Saram turned back to staring outside the window, eyes half-lidded and tired but no sign of sleep in them. She didn't acknowledge the door opening and heavy footsteps entering.

"Uta-"

"If Uta is not given an alternative goal to run towards, she will destroy herself Gordon. If her hatred towards injustice, towards the world, towards dad lets her live, lets her survive, then," Saram paused, Gordon staring at her, "Then, it is fair."

"You're a kind child, Saram."

"I simply want her to survive. Because I know," Her fists clenched as she turned towards Gordon, eyes wilted and dim, festering with weariness, "They will come back for her."

"And you?"

A moment passed. The implication of the question was clear: What about you? Won't they come for you too?

She chuckled, empty and hollow, an empty sound that echoed the bleary room, "Oh Gordon, I am dead, remember?"

Gordon felt his heart ache.

"The world mourn for the dead, they don't come searching for them."

Twelve years passed in quiet isolation. Time moved forward, yet within the walls of Elegia, it felt as though it had frozen, trapping its last three inhabitants in a world untouched by the outside. The kingdom never recovered, its ruins swallowed by nature, its music lost to the wind. Uta grew, her voice carrying across the empty halls, filling the silence left behind. Gordon tended to the kingdom’s remnants, teaching, guiding, ensuring Uta’s talents flourished. And Saram—Saram wandered.

Through the quiet corridors, the abandoned archives, the empty shores where the waves met the land. She trained alone, walked alone, lived in the space between existence and disappearance. The world had forgotten her, and she let it.

The waves crash against the beaches of Elegia as seagulls fly over the island. A lone figure stands by the beach, melodies leaving her as she sings, red and white hair tied up into intricate knots, a pair of shorts and top covering her as she sang. She didn't hear the quiet footsteps walking towards her, realizing only after they sit beside her on the fallen tree trunk, the hot sun warming their skin.

"Gordon was looking for you, Uta."

"Geez, that old man has amazing timing." Uta chuckled as she turned to glance at the older girl by her side, her hair flaying in the wind, "And you always know where to find me, don't you, Saram?"

The older girl ruffled Uta's hair, messing it up, "Lets go back to the castle, we will record your new song after your study lessons with Gordon."

"Huuuuhhh, why do I always have to study?" Uta pouted, grumbling as she walked after Saram, grumbles leaving her, "Geez, I am not a kid anymore."

"You still brashly use the wakewake mushrooms, I ought to ground you." Saram scolds as she plucks away the mushroom hidden in Uta's jacket.

"That's mi-" Uta rubbed her nape at the stern look in Saram's eyes, "Fine, fine! So bossy."

Saram slowed her steps as Uta used her devil fruit powers to go back to the castle, Uta had asked her numerous times to let her use her powers for Saram as well but the latter always refused, wtih Uta gone back to the castle, she turned to look at the seas with a distant look.

"It's in a month, huh?" She murmurs to herself, remembering the concert Uta was going to hold.

Years had passed since that fateful night: days turning to weeks, weeks turning to months and eventually years. It had been so long since Saram had sailed the seas, since she had felt the feeling of sailing, of sailing under a bright sky. She wondered, if the seas had changed since then?

"I wonder....." She hummed to herself and walked back to the castle.

"I cry all the time lately."

"Everyone agrees: the Navy is bad but what's worse is....."

"I'm hungry!"

"What do you expect? The pirates took everything!"

"That's right! It's the pirates' fault! Because of them being so greedy... No one gets to have fun anymore!"

"Do you understand what we're going through?"

"Please. We are suffering."

"You're the only one. The only one who can help...!"

"Watching the videos again?" Saram leans against the door of Uta's room, arms crossed as she watches the girl.

"Yeah, I have been thinking of these." Uta smiled at her, putting away the transponder snail, fingers dipping towards the basket, only to have it flicked away by Saram's hand, causing the younger girl to whine.

"That hurt!"

"No wakewake mushroom." Saram scolded and took the mushroom from her hands, "Let me see you." She said and held Uta's face in her hands, inspecting her.

"Geez, you're like a mom." Uta grumbled with a smile.

"A troublesome child you are, Uta." Saram sighs as she rubs her thumb over the dark circles under Uta's eyes, "Come on, to sleep you go."

"I am 21!" Uta grumbled but listening as Saram makes her go to bed, lying down on her bed as the latter takes off her headset and hair out of its intricate knots.

"Still my younger sibling." Saram shakes her head, amused. Grabbing the lavender oil on the dresser she slightly applies it to Uta, the younger watching her attentively with a smile; Saram had always been meticulous in her care for Uta, it came in subtle waves, in subtle ways, in subtle actions such as these.

"Thanks."

Saram didn't answer as Uta smiled at her, the older girl's back to her as she put away the things on Uta's dresser, the dual haired girl's purple eyes watching her. Uta sometimes wondered why Saram did all the things for her without asking anything in return, why Saram supported her but also gave her the freedom of decision of her life, why Saram never complained and simply loved her.

"Don't thank me."

"Sar-"

"Sleep well, Uta. Your big day is two days away." Saram kissed her forehead with affection and turned to walk towards the door, Uta could already feel the waves of sleep and scent dragging her away. Her eyes dropped and she fell asleep, Saram stood by the doorway for a moment before leaving.

The door clicked shut with a quiet finality, the echo fading into the stillness of the castle corridors. Saram stood there for a moment, her fingers lingering on the brass handle before she exhaled softly, the air was cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Uta’s room. The scent of lavender still clung to her fingertips, but it did nothing to soothe the heaviness settling in her chest.

Elegia castle was silent at this hour, save for the distant murmuring of waves outside. The worn out and ragged tapestries on the stone walls barely swayed, unmoved by the sea breeze slipping through the arched windows and cracks.

Her feet carried her forward, slow and measured; these pathways were familiar to her, she had dwelt amongst them for years. Her feet pulled her through the hallways, past the grand doors of the archives, past the chambers where the echoes of a lost kingdom still lingered.

She stepped out onto the rooftop.

The wind was stronger here, threading through her hair, tugging at the loose strands like a whisper of something she refused to name. The stars stretched endlessly above her, their light cold and distant, and below, the sea shimmered—a great expanse of ink and silver, shifting under the moon’s quiet gaze.

The same sea that had carried them away. The same sea that had taken everything.

Her fingers curled against the stone railing, the railing had crumbled in places since that night, yet it was still terrifyingly beautiful, a cacophony of art that existed and persisted its creators. Uta would be asleep by now. Gordon, too.

Yet, sleep never came easily for her.

It hadn’t in years.

Saram tipped her head back, letting the wind bite into her skin, tracing over the scars hidden beneath fabric and bandages. The left side of her body still ached, though it had long since healed, it always did when she stood beneath the open sky like this, as if her body still remembered that night.

As if it refused to forget.

She closed her eyes.

The fire. The smoke. The voices that had once meant everything to her. The weight of Shanks’ gaze that never fell on her as he walked away with Uta in his arms, the lack of care in him to even wonder whether she was with them before he left. Before they left.

She hadn’t screamed for them.

She hadn’t begged.

She couldn't, all she had felt was heat, weight and the smell of sulfur, of her lungs caving in, of her eyes' darkness and the sound of cannons in the distance.

And yet, some small, fractured part of her had waited—hoped—that someone would come back. That someone would realize.

But no one had.

A quiet breath slipped from her lips, and her eyes reopened, staring at the endless black sea.

The world thought she was dead.

The Red Hair Pirates thought she was dead.

And perhaps, in a way, that was true.

She had died that night.

The child who had once stood on the deck of that ship, who had laughed at the crew’s teasing, who had reached for a father who had never reached back—she had burned with Elegia. All that remained was this: a ghost of someone who no longer belonged anywhere, a girl with scars marring her skin, standing at the edge of a world she no longer sought to be part of. She no longer could be a part of.

A dull ache twisted in her chest, but she ignored it.

Instead, she let her thoughts drift to Uta.

Uta, whose anger burned brighter than any fire. Uta, whose pain had rooted itself deep, feeding into a hatred that would one day consume her if left unchecked.

"If Uta is not given an alternative goal to run towards, she will destroy herself, Gordon."

Saram had given her a path—a goal. If she could not take the bitterness from her, she would give her something to reach for instead because otherwise Saram feared that she would not be able to save Uta if time came.

But the concert was close now.

Saram had seen the look in Uta’s eyes, had heard the weight in her voice when she spoke of changing the world and she knew.

She knew Uta’s fire was rising.

Saram sighed, rubbing her temple as she leaned against the stone railing of the castle’s highest tower. The night air was cool, a contrast to the memories that still smoldered in the back of her mind.

She had spent years keeping Uta safe, guiding her, making sure she had a reason to keep moving forward. But she wasn’t blind. She could see the fire in Uta’s eyes, the way it grew hotter with each passing day, fueled by grief, by anger, by a dream that teetered dangerously between hope and destruction.

Uta wanted to change the world. Saram only feared what it would cost her. Her gaze drifted to the sea, endless and dark beneath the moonlight.

She had once dreamed of setting sail again - of feeling the wind at her back, of standing at the helm of a ship with nothing but open waters ahead. But that dream had died with the Elegia of the past.

The wind howled against the stone, and Saram turned away from the sea, her gaze falling to the quiet streets of Elegia below. The kingdom that had once been filled with music, now a hushed echo of what it had been.

A month from now, Uta’s voice would fill the world again.

Saram only wondered—

Would the world listen?

Would it understand?

"Well, what does it matter?" She hummed with a fleeting smiled, leaning more over and watching the waves, "The world is just a stage for my dear Uta to shine after all, who cares if they don't want to listen? They have no choice but to listen."

"Nervous?" Saram teased, fixing Uta's hair as they stand backstage, she could hear the crowd bustling, the expectant people who came all over the world for Uta.

"A little. But I am not afraid, plus, you're here after all, hehe." Uta grinned and Saram shook her head, smiling.

"Uta." Saram one last time as Uta was going on stage, the younger girl turned back towards her with a look of confusion, "Hm?"

"I love you."

"I know, sis."

Saram leaned against the wall as she watched Uta go on stage, the lights coming on and immediately, everyone falling under her spell, she knew it wouldn't affect her because Saram had tricks of her own.

"We can choose the way of our future..."

The lights came on as cheers erupted around the stage, Saram walked around, the earpiece in her ear connected to Uta, "Cue the water droplets." She spoke into the device as Uta sang and followed the directions as extra help, they both knew this, they had practiced this routine for days after all.

"I know that we can create a new world!"

Saram chuckled to herself as she saw Uta throw the jacket up in the air, "Show off."

The song continued as she kept listening, eyes looking proud and a soft smile on her lips, she cued the band to go on stage, "Uta, teleport the band." She spoke into the device, "In 3, 2... go."

Saram checked the transponder snail lines again to ensure they were working properly, the music was being live telecasted throughout the world. She went back to watching them and suddenly, she saw someone in the air sling-shotting themself and stilled, cringing, "Shit, no way."

"Uta! You're Uta, aren't you?!"

"Eh?" Uta was confused.

"It's me, remember?!"

"Me?"

Saram blinked in surprise, "That kid, no way-"

"Wait... Luffy?!"

"Luffy!?"

Both the women yelled out in surprise, Saram cleared her throat immediately as she watched them, while Luffy and Uta interact, "Wait, if the kid's here then..."

She ran to the cameras and looked around the stage, "Great, pirates." She sighed seeing the various pirates and especially the Yonko crew, "Uta, I'm leaving this to your hands." She said into the device and even though Uta didn't reply she knew that she heard her.

She started to leave backstage when a certain sentence stopped her, her body freezing.

"Cause she's Shanks' daughter!"

Shanks' daughter.

She clenched her jaw, of course, Luffy would say that. Her chest tightened as she kept hearing the conversations, forcing her feet to move.

"So 'Red-Haired' Shanks of the Four Emperors has a daughter?"

"If that's true, that'd make you his biggest weakness.... Red Haired's baby girl!"

They kept talking and at some point began fighting, Saram watched through the projection as she sat on a stone staircase with an unamused look, "Uta."

The younger immediately focused on the voice in her ear, registering the tone of annoyance in her older sister's voice, knowing that it was time to get serious, "Cease this foolishness, the audience is getting scared."

And Uta knew better than to not listen to her older sister.

"Okay! That's enough!"

While Uta was diffusing the situation, Saram went back to the castle, immediately seeing Gordon, he stood at the top of the staircase as they look at each other, Saram gave a fleeting smile "Hey, old man. My bandages are loose, mind helping?"

They sat on the staircase, the first aid kit beside Gordon on the floor, her eyes on the holograph projection watching the concert and chaos. Gordon paused for a second as he applied the cream on her burn marks and waited for it dry a bit, his eyes went to Saram's face, noting the deep, sunken dark circles, the dimness of her eyes.

"This plan... are you sure of it, Saram?" He asked, wrapping the bandages.

"I am just letting the kid have fun, Gordon. I know its wrong but at least this way, when she ends up in danger, I can save her, I can have access to her."

"Uta, she's a good child, if only-"

"We can't judge how a person grows up to cope with the losses of a childhood, Gordon. Besides, Uta knows why I don't stop her, she'll be safe." She looked Gordon directly in the eyes, "I won't let anything happen to her, you know that."

"That's why I am more worried, Saram." Gordon puts a hand on her head, "You put more value on that child's life than yourself."

"Don't worry, old man. There aren't any people besides you and Uta to mourn me." She smiles and fixes her clothes, standing up, and looking down at his sitting form. Gordon watched her slowly descend down the stairs and towards the large doors, he sighed tiredly as she was gone.

Gordon sat there for a long moment, his hands resting on his knees, staring at the space where Saram had just stood. The first-aid kit remained open beside him, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air, mixing with the stale dust that clung to the castle’s abandoned halls. He sighed, running a hand down his weary face, feeling the weight of years pressing against his bones, it had a long twelve years.

The holographic projection flickered beside him, something Saram had innovated and set up with the help of Uta as she knew that Gordon would not go to the concert stadium and remain in the castle, distorted images of Uta’s radiant figure flashing against the walls, her voice ringing out like a siren’s call. The world was watching her, listening to her, placing their dreams into her outstretched hands.

But beyond the music, beyond the dazzling performance, Gordon could see it—the darkness swimming beneath Uta’s fervent gaze, the cracks hidden beneath her bright smile. And Saram saw it too.

Saram always saw too much.

Gordon remained seated on the staircase, the forgotten first-aid kit at his side, his hands pressed together as if in silent prayer. But he had long since stopped praying. There were no gods who listened, no saints who answered. There was only time, slow and merciless, peeling away at what little remained.

His eyes drifted to the door she had walked through, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. The faintest scent of something sour clung to the air—like rotting flowers, like forgotten offerings left to decay. It was the same feeling he had when he saw her scars, the remnants of Elegia’s destruction carved into her skin like an artist’s cruel signature. No matter how many times he dressed her wounds, no matter how much care he put into wrapping the bandages, the burns would never fully heal. Some things never did.

Gordon would never admit it, nor would Uta or even Saram, but the three knew: Saram was a kaleidoscope of rotten fruit and bitter coffee, the scent of earth after rain, and the smell of sulfur. It clung to her like a ghost, and somewhere along twelve years, Gordon and Uta had come to love this mixture of morbid beauty, love the version of Saram that only they knew and saw.

She spoke so easily of her own disappearance, of her own death, as if she had already buried herself beneath the ashes of the past. “There aren’t any people besides you and Uta to mourn me.” Her words echoed in his mind, settling deep into the marrow of his bones. She had always been this way, from the moment he and Uta pulled her from the wreckage twelve years ago.

Twelve years ago, he had carried her from the wreckage of Elegia, burned and broken but still breathing.

Twelve years later, he still wondered if she had ever truly come back at all. A ghost among the living. A girl who never once asked why she had been left behind, who never screamed, never raged, never shed a tear for herself. She teased, she smiled, she stood quietly in the shadows— but she never told the truth. Never let anyone see the wounds beneath the bandages.

And that, more than anything, terrified him.

Because Saram wasn’t like Uta. Uta raged, Uta wept, Uta sought revenge against the world. But Saram? Saram simply existed. She had folded herself into the background, a phantom haunting the castle’s halls as if she were only borrowing time.

Gordon clenched his hands into fists. No… she wasn’t just borrowing time. She was giving it away.

To Uta.

To him.

To everyone but herself.

He looked back at the projection. Uta’s voice rang through the castle, powerful and entrancing, wrapping the world in its melody. Outside, the people of Elegia chanted her name, their desperation clinging to every note. The flickering light of the holographic projection cast shifting shadows across the stone walls, illuminating the cracks, the dust, the quiet ruin of a place that had once pulsed with music only to burn away under wrath. Uta's voice soared above it all, radiant and commanding, weaving a melody that wrapped itself around the hearts of the desperate.

Uta was a sun burning too brightly, pulling the world into her orbit.

And Saram—Saram was the ghost lingering at the edges of that light.

Gordon exhaled, his breath heavy, like something long decayed. He could still feel the weight of Saram’s presence in the air, like a specter unwilling to fade, yet never truly reaching for life. She had always carried herself like something already gone, like a memory trapped between moments, neither present nor absent, always just there. And it sickened him.

Not because he blamed her. Not because he didn’t understand.

But because he knew—one day, she wouldn’t just feel like a ghost.

She would become one.

And somewhere in the shadows of that grand spectacle, Saram watched, waiting. Gordon let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

A rotting flower still carried the memory of its bloom. But memories couldn’t bring the dead back to life.

Gordon clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his knees. If only she were angry, he thought bitterly. If only she raged like Uta did, if only she screamed; if only she wanted something for herself. But no—Saram didn’t cling to life, didn’t fight for it. She merely existed, out of obligation rather than desire; as if the embers of Elegia had burned through her soul, leaving only the fragile shell of what once was.

And now, now she was setting herself up to disappear completely.

The weight of it sat heavy in his chest, an ache older than the years that separated them. He should have said something before she left, should have told her that she was wrong—that there were people who would mourn her, that she wasn’t dead yet, that she didn’t have to be.

But ghosts don’t listen to the living.

He knew because he tried. Gordon knew because he had cried, broken down in front of her when she turned twenty, begging for forgiveness, cried for the scars on her skin which were a result of his incompetence towards his duty as a king, cried for the pain of her being left behind by Shanks, knelt on the ground crying as he pleaded for her to blame him, blame his carelessness: to do anything except smile at him and hold him with a softness undeserving for him.

The memory clung to him like the scent of rotting flowers—sickly sweet, thick in the air, impossible to escape. Even now, sitting in the warm ruin of the castle staircase, he could feel it, could taste it in the back of his throat. The weight of that night, the way his knees had hit the floor, the way his hands had grasped at nothing, at ghosts, at regret that had already taken root in his bones.

When she was younger.

When Saram was twenty.

She had sat in that chair by the open window, moonlight spilling over her in silver ribbons, making her look more like a specter than a girl. The wind carried in the scent of night-blooming flowers from the overgrown garden below, but beneath it, there was something else. Something bitter. Something like decay. Saram had turned around at the sound of his footsteps, strands slipping from their loose braid. She had known, even before he opened his mouth, what he had come to say.

“Saram,” his voice had broken before he could even begin, before he could find the right words, the right apologies.

She had only smiled, tilting her head like she was waiting for him to continue, like she wasn’t already bracing for it but the words never came. Instead, the weight of twelve years had come crashing down all at once, and he had fallen to his knees before her, hands trembling where they reached out, stopped, hovered in the space between them like he wasn’t worthy to touch her.

“I—” His breath had hitched. “I should have stopped everyone before Tot Musica had been released.”

She had said nothing, a soft gaze in her eyes that made him feel shame, feel him like a parasite that survived death.

“I should have done better as the King of this nation.”

Her eyes had softened, but she still didn’t speak.

“Saram, say something!” His voice had cracked under the weight of it, raw with grief, with guilt, with everything he had buried deep inside himself for over a decade. His hands clenched into fists against the floor, his nails biting into his palms. “I should have done better, should have locked away Tot Musica better - should have been the one to have those scars, not you!”

At that, she had sighed, quiet, resigned, like someone who had heard the same thing a thousand times before. And maybe she had. Maybe she had played this moment out in her head so many times that by the time it finally happened, she had already accepted it and yet, she did not blame him.

She did not curse him, did not lash out, did not tell him that he was a coward who had abandoned his people. She only stood, crossing the room with slow, measured steps, before she kneeled before him and, with a tenderness he did not deserve, she had reached out and cradled his face in her hands. Her palms were warm; warmer than they should have been, warmer than he had expected them to be.

“It wasn’t your fault, Gordon.” Her voice had been soft, steady, but there was something underneath it—something that made his chest ache, something like finality. “Not everything can be changed by human hands.”

His breath had hitched, his fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, his throat burning with words that could never be enough.

She had burned, had suffered, had spent twelve years in silence and still, she comforted him.

“Everyone left you to die,” he had choked out, hands shaking where they hovered near her wrists.

“But I didn’t,” she had whispered.

But they did, Gordon had thought. We did.

His grip had tightened. "Why are you so kind? How can you be so forgiving after—"

Saram had hushed him with a shake of her head, her fingers brushing against his temple, her touch feather-light, like she was afraid that if she pressed too hard, he would shatter completely. Maybe he would have, Saram always did comprehend people better than anyone else.

"Elegia mourns for the dead," she had murmured, her voice something distant, something already slipping away. "Not the ones who refuse to rest."

Her hands had fallen away from his face, slipping to her sides, leaving behind only warmth.

The wind shifted, carrying in the scent of the garden below, but all he could smell was the bitter memory of burning flesh, of withered petals crushed beneath his knees. The moonlight caught the edges of her scars where her sleeve had slipped down, and the sight of them made something inside him break all over again.

But Saram only smiled and Gordon had realized, with a deep, bone-deep dread, that he would never be able to reach her; because Saram had died that night. She was just too kind to let them, to let Uta and him, see it. He had crumbled then, his hands gripping at the worn stone beneath them, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He had wept, shameful and broken, his forehead pressing against the cold ground at her feet; because how could he ever ask for forgiveness when she never saw a fault in anyone but her own fate?

"You deserved better," he had choked out. "You deserved so much more than this."

A hand—calloused, warm despite everything—had come to rest atop his head, her touch light, as if she were afraid he might break apart entirely.

"So did you, old man." She had laughed.

A quiet, breathy thing, so empty it might have been mistaken for the wind. Gordon had never hated a sound more in his life. How could she laugh so easily? How could she exist under the moonlight and act as if it was not dragging her more into the darkness? How could she stand there and laugh as if her very flesh was burned marred under her bandages?

In front of her laughter, Gordon had felt small. So small, so weak. That was the last time he had let himself beg because asking for forgiveness should not be so meager, he could not dare to reduce her strength to something so small. Now, standing in the hollow glow of the projection, he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, pushing the memory back into the depths where it belonged.

Saram had made her choice all those years ago. She was merely walking towards the end of it now, freely, slowly but surely.

"What a mess," Saram murmured, sitting cross-legged and watching the concert-turned-chaos through the projection, she was bored, utterly, irrevocably bored, as she watched the mess, "Luffy has a pretty strong crew, huh?"

Her fingers tap in boredom against her knee in a rhythm as she sits, watching Luffy disappear with a green-haired guy, she hums and looks down over her shoulder on the bridge connecting the two towers, the sound of people talking, Annoying, this was my place.

"What the-?! Where the heck are we?!" The man gasped in surprise before speaking again, "Oh, so you're a fan of Uta-same, too, Trafalgar?"

"Wrong. I'm a chaperone."

Her eyes studied the new person, the yellow and red shirt unbuttoned with white shorts and that white hat, he was pretty tall too, she blinked as a polar bear decked out in concert attire walked out, a small amused smile appearing on her lips as she saw the bear, Cute.

They kept talking as Saram moved herself further into the shadows, watching with curiosity and slight amusement, it was funny how they were so engrossed with talking that they didn't see Uta coming near. Uta gave a very subtle, barely noticeable glance to Saram who shrugged and walked away from the area while Uta chased after them.

The older girl went towards the area where she had an inkling the four would run to, and she was right, leaning against the wall as she watched Gordon lead the guys into the broken-down chapel, a rather dumb decision though. From the second floor she kept an eye on them, Gordon had a tendency to get himself into trouble after all.

She listens to Gordon talk about Uta's past to the four, cheek resting against her fist as she pays attention to the story of Uta that is connected to her own. An amused gaze in her eyes as she watches the flashy attire and device of the polar bear start singing tunes, her smile fell as Gordon began talking about how Uta began to harbor hatred against pirates and all things wrong.

"Why.... why is the world so cruel, Saram?"

The young girl had cried to her one day and Saram had simply consoled her, "Because the world is not fair or equal."

An inaudible sigh leaves her as Gordon pleads to the pirates, she shakes her head, Uta wouldn't like this, she knew it, "Please! You have to stop Uta's plan! You were her friend, Luffy! You should be able to do it!"

After the three had escaped, Uta confronted Gordon. Once the place had cleared of outsiders, Saram hopped down to the ground, Gordon looked at her in surprise as Uta smiled at the older female.

"Saram, talk sense to her." Gordon pleaded as Saram turned her gaze to Uta, blinking.

"Saram?" Uta questioned as Saram walked closer to her before fixing her hair.

"You know the consequences of your plan, Uta. I know you won't stop, but if push comes to shove," Saram's eyes darkened as Uta swallowed, "You know."

Uta nodded and grinned before leaving, and Gordon yelled that the girl should not do it. Saram glanced at Gordon who was captured by Uta's powers, "I told you to stop trying with her." She sighed, she blinked as the mini polar bear appeared out of nowhere. She smiled and crouched down in front of it, "Your name is Bepo, yeah?" She pats his head before standing up.

"Sara-"

"I won't help you. Nor will I help Uta. I told you two already, you two keep doing as you please, I don't care." Saram says to him before looking at the polar bear, "Break this if you want to see your friend, the Trafalgar guy, it'll take you to him." She hands him and crystal before casting one look at Gordon.

"Where are you going, Saram?" Gordon asked, something in him felt cold as he saw the familiar detached gaze and expression on her face, his blood going cold as she smiled, shadows on her face.

"Making a stop and then the real world."

Gordon knew; knew that Uta had given her free reign to crossing the borders of real and fake, that Saram was the only who wielded enough power to stop Uta. He also knew that Saram - she had no interest of what became of the world.

Before he could say anything, she had already left.

Saram sat beside Uta on top of the rainbow waters, hood up as she sighed, "You know that your body is breaking down, right?"

"I know."

"I see."

"I saw Luffy."

"I know."

"He is a pirate."

"I heard."

"Sa-"

"I am glad, he grew up well." Saram had a smile on her lips as she said those words, Uta clenched her jaw, "Saram, he is-"

"Don't be so unkind, he is still your childhood friend. Besides, I can't blame him for anything, he was as innocent as you."

Saram looked back at the sound of footsteps coming near her and Uta, she already knew who it was, the only other kid who had been apart of her childhood - Luffy. She gave a nod to Uta, "I'm heading out first."

Uta nodded and Saram was gone.

Uta spoke, "What are you doing here? You can fight me over and over, but you'll never win."

Luffy came to a stop behind her sitting form, a determined expression on his face, "It's not over yet."

Uta teased him, turning around with a grin, "There you go again, you sore loser!" Her smile fell as he took a step forward, "Then, I guess we'll have to settle this with a fight, like we used to, Luffy."

She snapped her fingers and soldiers materialized from tunes, attacking him, each one he deflected using his gum-gum powers, she smiled solemnly, "You're not even trying to hit me."

"What you're doing is wrong!"

"I could say that to you, Luffy. You need to realize that the Great Pirate Era is over. Why do you wanna be the King of the Pirates so bad, anyway?" She holds his hat.

"To make a new era."

"Luffy--!"

He was thrown back as Uta raged, "The Great Pirate Era began with Roger's execution...." Swords were pointed at his neck as Uta gripped the straw hat with force, "Now, Luffy, it's gonna end with yours!"

"Don't do it! Uta!"

"You! You used to love the Red-Haired Pirates so much! Why do you hate pirates now?!"

"Its Shanks' fault."

At her words, he looked at her in surprise, "I thought of him.... like my own father!" Tears fell as she spoke, Luffy's eyes widening, "I considered everyone on that ship to be family! But that was just a lie they told me! That's why.... Shanks abandoned me! He left me behind on Elegia!"

"He said it was so you could become a singer!"

"Wrong!"

"Shanks would never do something like that! And you know it!" Luffy yelled after listening to Uta, pushing off the soldiers.

"Then explain the last twelve years! You're nothing but a tool for Shanks, too, Luffy!"

"Shanks is coming."

"To save you?" Uta mocked him.

Saram watched the rain fall as the conversation between the two continued. She had been listening to their entire exchange as she sat on the roof of a building, rain pelting down on her.

"To save you."

"Me? Why?"

"You think he's gonna sit back while his daughter pulls something like this?!" Luffy yelled, his tone serious and determined, Uta faced him fully, she paused before speaking, "I am not his only daughter, Luffy."

"What do you me-" He paused, right, she was also there wasn't she? That girl who always used to hide, Shanks' blood daughter, "You're talking about Saram, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Saram died, Shanks told me." Luffy said quietly, his voice laced with pain.

Uta smiled solemnly, "Right... that's what everyone thinks, right?"

"What're you talking about?" Luffy frowned, Uta blinked as tears fell, "What's the point of saying it?"

"Uta.... he's coming to save you."

"He abandoned me.... he's not coming."

The rain came down in sheets, soaking through the tattered fabric of Saram’s cloak, making it cling to her like a second skin. The weight of it was suffocating, dragging her down, but she made no move to shake it off. She simply sat there, still as stone, letting the cold seep into her bones.

Saram stared at the sky, raindrops sliding down her face, she felt her heart tighten at their words, at Uta's words. Shanks had abandoned Uta for her well-being, for her growth, and for Saram? She smiled, something rotten and dirty coiling in her chest, its claws digging into her lungs yet her breathes never stopping.

She had never minded the rain.

It washed things away, smothered the embers before they could grow into something uncontrollable. It blurred the lines between the living and the dead, between what was real and what had long since crumbled into nothing.

And yet, it could never quite wash away the rot. Saram exhaled, her breath curling in the air like smoke, like the last wisps of a fire that refused to die.

"Saram died, Shanks told me."

Luffy's voice echoed in her skull, rattling against the hollow parts of her, the places where something human had once lived.

"Right... that's what everyone thinks, right?"

Uta's voice—soft, bitter, laced with the kind of sorrow that dug its nails into flesh and never let go. Saram tilted her head back, staring up at the dark sky, feeling the raindrops slide down her face like phantom fingers.

So that was it.

She was dead.

Not in the way she had once wished for, body lost to the sea, swallowed whole by something greater than herself. No, she was dead in the way a forgotten song was. In the way Elegia was. A ruin, a fragment of something once bright, left to decay in silence.

She let out a breath, slow and measured, as if the wrong movement would shatter her.

"You're talking about Saram, aren't you?"

"I am."

It was funny, in a way, how easily her existence could be rewritten. She had been left behind, erased by time and silence, only to resurface in whispers, in the spaces between words. Saram died. But the truth was, she had been rotting long before anyone thought to name her dead.

She could still remember it—the fire.

The way it ate through the city, through her flesh, through everything she had ever known. The heat had been unbearable, blistering, peeling away the softest parts of her until all that remained was something raw and ruined, she knew something inside her had snapped, had twisted into something unrecognizable. The fire had stolen so much from her. It had burned away her illusions.

The Red-Haired Pirates were never going to come back for her.

Shanks had made his choice.

She had fallen in the wreckage of Elegia, her body broken, her skin scorched, waiting for the impossible and like she expected, no one had come. Just Gordon. Just Uta.

She swallowed hard, fingers tightening into fists.

"Shanks is coming."

"To save you."

The words twisted in her gut, sharp and jagged, an intrusion where there should have been nothing.

Shanks was going to come for Uta.

Of course, he was. She mocked herself in her thoughts.

Uta, with her fire, her music, her rage. Uta, who screamed her grief into the world, demanding to be seen, to be heard.

Saram had never done that, had never demanded anything.

She had simply—existed, and that, perhaps, was why no one ever thought to look for her. She smiled to herself, something bitter and twisted curling at the edges of her lips, could almost laugh - all these years, and she was still nothing more than a ghost. A burned thing with torn wings, too broken to fly, too stubborn to die.

The rain soaked through her hood, dripped down her face in cold rivulets, but it could not cool the heat that had once melted through her skin, through her bones, through the fragile hope she had once carried in her chest like a flickering candle.

Hope that he would come back.

Hope that she mattered.

Hope that she wasn’t a mistake.

But the fire had burned through all of it.

Saram exhaled, slow, steady, like smoke curling from the ruins of something long abandoned. She let her fingers trail over her forearm, feeling the rough, uneven skin beneath the soaked fabric of her sleeve. The scars had long since healed, but they had never softened. They were ridges, thick and ugly, carved into her like a brand—something permanent, something she could never wash away.

No one but Gordon and Uta know about them.

She should have been grateful for that. That she could hide the evidence of the fire’s hunger, pretend that it hadn’t tried to devour her whole.

But even if the world couldn’t see it, she could.

"Shanks is coming."

She laughed, hollow and soundless, something brittle cracking in her chest. Of course, he was coming.

For Uta.

For his daughter.

Because she had always been his daughter first, hadn’t she?

Uta, who had been chosen.

Uta, who had been loved.

Saram had only ever been an afterthought. A mistake that should never have been born. She had seen it in his eyes, once—long ago, before the fire, before the pain, before she had truly understood what she was. Seen the way he looked at Uta, with warmth, with pride, with a love so fierce and unshaken that it burned brighter than any sea-split dawn.

And then there was the way he looked at her. Not cruel. Never cruel. but distant. Guarded. Like something fragile. Like something he didn’t know what to do with. Like something he never should have had in the first place.

Saram squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her palm against the burn scars hidden beneath her sleeve, feeling the ridges and the pain they no longer carried.

She could never forget.

She could never let herself forget.

Shanks had abandoned Uta to save her, and he had abandoned her because she was never meant to exist in the first place. And even after twelve years, the knowledge still tore her apart, why could she not be loved? What did Uta have that she did not?

"Enough is enough, Luffy." Saram blinked at the sky at the words spoken by Uta echoing in her ears, something in the tone she spoke, "Bye-bye."

She thought she was going to hear the sound of metal piercing skin and closed her eyes.

Click.

The sound of something stopping Uta echoed in her ears and she slowly opened her eyes, "It's been a while... and I felt like hearing you sing."

Shanks.

Suddenly, the raindrops sliding down her felt warm as Saram stared at the sky, her throat seizing up, as she clenched her fists. Uta's laughter rang out as Saram looked over her shoulder to where the people were gathered, even from the distance she could see the dark red of his hair, she smiled.

"You really came for your daughter, huh, dad?" She whispered to herself, Uta's eyes widened as she heard Saram's whisper, her breath hitching. Saram’s voice, quiet as a whisper, yet it had crashed through her mind like a tidal wave.

Uta barely registered the way Shanks stood before her, the steady weight of his hand stopping her own. The raindrops fell heavier now, cold against her skin, but all she could hear—all she could feel—was Saram’s voice curling around her ribs like something fragile and breaking.

She knew that tone.

She knew it.

That quiet, resigned smile. That distant warmth that never reached her eyes. The same way Saram had spoken when she had told Gordon she wasn’t afraid to disappear. When she had promised, again and again, that she would keep Uta safe—as if that was all she had left to give. Uta’s throat tightened.

It should have made her angry.

Saram had always been like this—always watching from the edges, always fading into the background, always acting as if her existence didn’t matter and yet— Uta gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into her palm.

You really came for your daughter, huh, dad?

Why did it sound like Saram was saying goodbye? Why did it sound like she had already accepted her place outside of this moment—outside of him? She didn’t even sound bitter. Not anymore. Just... tired.

Like she had known this would happen, had expected it, had always expected it. Shanks was standing in front of her. Shanks had come to save her and somewhere far away, in the rain, Saram was smiling. Uta felt something crack deep in her chest. The marines, the pirates, the civilians, people only ever hurt others, she knew that as she stared at the man bleeding, she knew that when Saram was wrapped in bandages from the burns of Elegia.

She stood up, coiling her hands in the air, moving away from Hongo, from the dead body, from the people.

"Bad guys need to look like bad guys. I should've done this sooner." Uta spoke and used her powers to clothe the people in her dream reality into black outfits.

Saram sighed and turned off the mind link, she hadn't meant for Uta to hear her but she did. This was her sign, huh? She had avoided getting involved in this mess for so long and now she had to get in. Saram pushed herself to her feet as she stretched, "Looks like she's gonna activate it."

"These ancient words like a hymn of reclamation,

Not even death will escape them."

"What a mess." She watched from the top of tower, she could see Shanks fighting it, see the look on Hongo's face, see the look on Beckman's face as he fought.

She jumped down

Saram moved.

The moment her feet hit the ground, she was running.

The streets of Elegia blurred past her, the rain turning the cobblestone slick beneath her boots. The once-grand island, now fractured and broken, welcomed her steps like an old ghost returning home. Water splashed beneath her, droplets scattering in her wake, but she didn’t slow. She couldn’t. Above her, Uta’s voice rang out, a hymn of unraveling. The sky itself trembled at the sound, the melody vibrating through her bones, pressing against her ribs like something alive, something ancient.

"This weeping and wailing has gone far too long

Nothing left but to yell! Yeah! Yeah!"

The world was shifting. Reality cracking at its seams.

Saram grit her teeth as she weaved through the debris-strewn streets, dodging crumbling structures and fallen beams. A tower leaned dangerously to one side, its foundation weakened, the aftermath of the destruction painting the town in shades of ruin and memory.

She took a sharp turn, leaping over the remains of a shattered bridge, her heart hammering in her chest. The wind howled through the empty alleyways, carrying the distant echoes of battle—the clash of swords, the sharp crack of gunfire, the shouts of pirates and Marines pushing against an enemy they couldn’t see.

And above it all—Shanks.

She could feel his presence even before she saw him.

He was fighting against the very fabric of this nightmare, his sword cutting through the false sky with relentless force. Hongo moved beside him, Beckman’s rifle fired shot after precise shot, but it was the look on their faces that struck her the most.

Desperation.

They knew they were losing.

Saram’s breath came in short bursts as she pushed forward. Her hood fell back as she jumped onto a slanted rooftop, the world tilting under her feet. From up here, she could see it all. The chaos. The ruin. The impossible weight of what Uta was about to unleash.

She sighed as Gordon was stabbed in the dream realm, the projection on her wrist allowing her to see it, Gordon tells her the truth as she dodged the falling debris in the real world, away from the eyes of the people, standing in the shadows.

"Uta! You heard him! I knew Shanks was a good guy!" Luffy grinned, Saram shook her head as she slowly walked through the paths and reaching the edge of the forest.

"It's too late." She murmured as the meter glowed red on her wrist. She tapped the switch on her wrist device as Uta was consumed by Tot Musica. The device was connected to a world outside her own, a tether to those who remained unaware of the storm she was about to stir.

"Luffy, everyone."

Saram's voice echoed through the dream realm causing Luffy and the others to pause, the former's eyes widening.

"That voice... who's speaking?" Nami dodged another attack.

"You all don't know me but I am Luffy and Uta's childhood friend," She paused staring at the destruction raging ahead, as her voice carried a strange weight, a quiet confidence that seemed to resonate through the chaos. Luffy’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. His chest tightened, memories of a time long gone flickering at the edges of his mind.

“My name is Saram,” the voice continued, “and I am going to help you out of this mess.”

"Saram....." Luffy repeated in surprise.

Saram helped them out, guiding Koby and the others, she spoke to Brulee directly, "The pretty lady with the blonde hair, your name is Brulee, right?"

Brulee, a bit flustered at the complliment, nodded, "I am."

"I'll give you the information, can you carry it over to your brother, Katakuri?" Saram said as she eyed Katakuri from the distance.

"Why can't you go, if you don't mind me asking?" Brulee asked, Saram licked her lips, staring at the distance, "Please, Brulee-san, help me out, I can't go there at this moment."

The sincerity in her voice made Brulee nod, she passed the information over to Katakuri who in return told Shanks. Saram, meanwhile, did her own preparations.

"You've all got it from here?" Saram said, everyone in the dream realm yelled in agreement, and she waited, watching them fight.

After the fight was over, Saram moved. She saw Shanks run over to Uta and kneel by her side, "Shanks.... I.."

"Its fine! It's over now." He said panicked, calling out to Hongo who threw a bottle of medicine at him, catching it, he brought it to her lips, "If you drink this and sleep right away, you'll make it."

"Shanks... I didn't wanna see you again..." Uta said weakly, "But... I missed you!"

"Stop talking! Hurry and drink."

Seeing Uta throw away the medicine after refusing to drink because she wanted to fix everything made Saram sigh. She shook her and walked over to them.

At the sound of footsteps and glass, Shanks looked up, along with the others who looked in that direction.

"Seriously, Uta, I told you to leave the aftermath to me." She sighed and crouched down beside her, Shanks narrowed his eyes, his chest tight, something about her was familiar.

"Sorry..." Uta said weakly.

Shanks' and the Red Haired Pirates' eyes widened as the figure took off their hood, "Troublesome you are, Uta."

"You-!"

Shanks felt his blood go cold along with his crew.

"Its been awhile, dad." She said quietly.

"Saram...." Hongo's voice quivered.

"No time for that now." She shook her head and brought a vial from her side bag, "Drink, Uta. I've got it from here."

"Saram.... I'm the musician of the Red Haired Pirates... I have to.." Uta protested as Saram shook her head and handed the vial to Shanks, "Help her drink this, I'll fix this mess."

Before letting him speak, she leaped and got on to the raised platform, pulling out an earpiece from her bag, she put it on, "What a mess."

She sighed before facing one hand upwards, taking a deep breath, a melody ringing out, the device on her wrist gleaming a blue color, her heart thumping.

"Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet."

Uta's eyes fluttered, as she watched Saram stand under the gleaming sunset, her body glowing a golden-yellow color, the hues spreading out. She and Saram had set up that device, imbedding it with some of Uta's powers for something like this. Shanks looked at Saram, his chest still stammering, she had been alive. Saram had been alive all this time. And he... he thought she was dead.

At her melody, the unconscious bodies stopped fighting and fell limp on the group, golden hues leaving them and going towards Saram who sang a melody that was bringing everyone back.

"To this everlasting melody,

Face to face, we dance."

Uta was weak against him, the golden flares ribboning around them all from Saram. All eyes were on her, her movements, the softness of her voice. Gordon widened his eyes in the dream realm as golden hues circled them.

"That doesn't sound like Uta." Chopper questioned to which Gorgon shook his head with a smile, "That's not Uta. That's —"

"Saram. That's Saram." Luffy smiled.

"It feels like my heart is aching yet so warm." Nami frowned as Robin nodded, "It's sweet yet feels a bit bitter."

"To be engulfed in silence

In your gaze, where I'm seen."

Gordon sighed, closing his eyes, all of them closing their eyes. Saram was guiding them all back home.

Once she believed that her work was done, Saram stopped. She licked her lips, turned around and jumped off the higher area, walking towards Shanks and Uta with Luffy lying on the ground. She paused in her steps as she saw the crew standing around them as well, knowing that the audience had come back, Saram moved.

She was able to take only two steps back when her path was blocked.

"Beckman."

"Saram."

I did not expect this to become so long, crying because the one-shot turned into multiple parts, will update the next parts soon! the song I used for Saram's part is CURE (SUA & MIZI.ver) | Alien Stage the link is attached. love ya, see y'all!

Inferno's Promise I

summary: a million chances, a million lives, one last try, Ace can't seem to understand why this new recruit keeps running from him and everyone on board, always sticking close to the nurses and creating remedies for Whitebeard but he had always been a curious one.

word count : 4k

Disclaimer: Reader is called 'Saram' meaning 'Human/Person'

Happy valentine's day to the love of my life, Portgas D. Ace

Also, special thanks to @thebunnednun cuz the Pizza Roll fic made me motivated to finally get the first part out!! Part two is on the way.

Ace didn't understand why this new recruit always seemed to be running away from the crewmates when they attempted to talk to her. She always seemed on guard, doing her job diligently, never making mistakes, always knowing what to do and where to do it without even being told. She was supposed to be a nurse but was working under all the Commanders. She never asked anything, never spoke more than needed.

He didn't like it.

People who were on the crew were like family, warmth and ease, sun rays and salty seas, they were not supposed to feel like the harsh rain and cold winters, gloomy winds and tangy rotten fruit.

He knew the feeling of rotten fruit too well and seeing someone like that left a bad taste in his mouth. It itched at him, she always was on the move. Always moving, always staying away from him.

"Saram, get the barrels!" One of the older crewmen yelled out across the deck as he tied the cargo, Ace found himself looking for the woman unconsciously, perched against the railing and eyeing the working crewmates, his eyes landed on the woman, pushing the barrel with her hands, she was rolling it, at first it was strange, the ways she used to solve chores but now it was seen as efficient.

Dark eyes followed her movement, fingers tapping, drumming against the wooden railing quietly with a light tune, hat tipped a bit forward as his eyes tracked her movements. She reminded him of a fox, cautious and alert, she always kept looking around, never one to settle in knew place, yet she did many tasks in short time spans.

"Saram, we ran out of the medicine again, make some more when you're free." Tate's voice called out, the hot pink uniform wearing nurse walking across the deck towards the plainly dressed woman, Saram immediately looked back, eyes going over Tate's silhouette. The former simply nodded in reply to Tate's words.

The drumming of his fingers continued against the wood continued, a calm look on his face as he eyed her, his jaw ticked for a moment as he watched her quietly slip through the crowds of people and get lost in the ship.

His fingers stopped.

And he walked away, the deck had become boring when she walked away.

Marco was sharp.

He picked up on things faster than most of his brothers, as 1st Division Commander he had more responsibilities than anyone under Whitebeard, eyes and senses always sharp and sensitive. Crystal blues watched Saram attentively, the way she was moving fluidly around the deck, so natural, so perfect - new recruits should not be so familiar with the way tasks happened on the Moby Dick, so at ease with the work.

Marco tilted his head slightly, watching her movements, clipboard in hand as his eyes tracked her above the clipboard, he knew that Whitebeard knew that Saram was not some 'new' recruit, she was quiet, spoken when required, understanding tasks without having to be shown and sometimes even shown, she was so one with the crew that it threw Marco off.

Lips tugged into a smirk as he watched Ace eye her calculatingly, Fire Fist's eyes shadowed by his hat, Marco knew that look, the look of interest and intrigue, a scary thing when it's from Ace. Eternal life and immortality, Marco was the embodiment of this, he took pride in it, pride in who he was, yet seeing the way Saram was blending in like a puzzle piece with the crew, he was beginning to be proud of his skills of deciphering people and their potential as well.

A hum left his throat as he ticked off more tasks, blue eyes going over the papers, Tate walked over to him as he looked through the crate piles, a simple look of greeting from the nurse before she scanned the deck for someone, Marco glanced from the papers and watched as the head nurse called the recruit.

"Saram, we ran out of the medicine again, make some more when you're free."

Saram gave a quick nod before walking through the doors and leaving the deck, Marco's glanced at the side where Ace was standing, light flickers of flames around his drumming fingertips, he raised an eyebrow discreetly to himself as he watched the Second Division Commander push himself off the railing and walk away too.

"Drumming fingers? You're in deep, huh, Ace?" Marco murmured to himself with a contemplative smile, reeking of ice and warm sun, sour grapes and sweet citrine.

The taste of iron lingered on her tongue as she chewed on the candy given to her by Tate, her hands churning the medicine, adding drops of gold liquid into the vial as she chewed quietly, the candy was sweet, maybe watermelon flavored too. The infirmary's bleak walls seemed warm and inviting, the sweet candy in her mouth melted slowly. Saram stood by the table as she mixed the medicine, this was her main task, the main reason she was able to join the Whitebeard Pirates, her medicine and the way it was curing Whitebeard.

"The candy is so sweet!" Marie squealed quietly as Tate handed her another one, the bright pink uniform of the nurses seemed to fit perfectly with the infirmary colors, Saram paused and looked around for a tube of silver liquid. Before she could move away from her work station, a tan hand placed the vial in front of her, dull eyes looked up and she took the vial with a quiet thanks, Tate smiled, eyes skimming over the medicine she was preparing.

"You have really steady hands." Marie inputs as she looked dover Tate's shoulder, "Even our hands aren't that steady and we're nurses."

"Your hands are too unstable for that dummy."

Saram paused for a moment, brief and unseen, before nodding and resuming her work, Sophie brought over empty vials for Saram to fill the medicine with. Tate stood and watched with interested eyes as the woman deftly arranged everything and prepared everything properly, so smooth, so natural, for the nurses, the woman fit in just right with them, she knew what to do and where what was, barely asking questions or throwing tantrums or complaining like the crewmen who tended to do it often.

Eventually she was left alone by them after she handed over the medicine to them for storing and administering to Whitebeard, she sighed and looked around the infirmary for a moment, the sunlight coming through the porthole window, the beds were made neatly and the whole place was empty, smelling of disinfectant and sterilizing ointment.

"Maybe, a few minutes...." She murmured and went to the very last bed at the end of the room, right by the porthole window and lay down, pulling the curtain around the bed. She didn't pull the blanket over her or move anything, quietly lying on top of the blanket and bed, not even on the pillow, eyes flickering, the warm sun rays crossed against her face and arms, her eyes closed as she fell into slumber, promising herself to wake up in a few minutes, there was still so much to do.

Saram didn't have the time to rest.

Not when there were so many lives dependent on her.

Mastering all three types of Haki enable Ace to protect himself better and be more alert, Observational Haki allowed him to find people more easily and stay more alert, he'd have to thank Thatch for that. A warm grin planted itself on his face as he walked through the hallways, smiling at his brothers, freckles face drawing smiles from everyone, Ace always brought smiles in everyone's face around him, to him they were true, for them he was the sun, warm and inviting, safe and protective.

"Are you snooping for Saram again?" Marie teased him as he wandered around the sub-infirmaries, the infirmary area was expanded after a tough battle and many wounded cremates, the infirmary area was a different section of the ship to accommodate the large crew, the girl smiled as she walked out of the storage area and Ace rubbed his nape sheepishly, feeling caught.

"Nothing like thaaaat." He drawled but Marie chuckled, she was younger than him and many of the crew members but she was also observing, she picked up on things faster, Marco and Tate praised her on those skills which she took pride in. Ace didn't fool her, he was more that snooping for the new recruit, he was absolutely smitten, everyone already knew, he didn't know that everyone knew of his new profound affections for the new recruit who barely spoke more than needed and had not interacted more than required, it was love at first sight for him, even if he didn't know, they knew that from the first moment Saram arrived on this ship and offered to heal Whitebeard, who was now much more healthy than before and more active, his skin more bright.

"Main infirmary, don't be loud." She smiled and walked away, Ace helping her with the boxes, Makino taught him good manners, this was a good manner, help people, be kind, be nice, be polite, show humility, be firm but soft. He nodded his head and walked away from her at the crossroad of the hallway, the lights hitting against his bare skin as his boots hit the wooden ground with soft taps. The lower levels of the ship were cooler, especially the infirmary section of the ship because the medicine and equipment kept here, it was a refuge for the crew on extremely hot days, only until Tate and Marco and the others came looking annoyed and scolding and driving everyone away from the area because of the crowd.

His hand pushed open the door to the main infirmary, the one where Marco worked more, the one which was used regularly, the one where a certain someone often hid away. Black boots slightly thump against the floor, quiet echoes radiating in the room, his eyes take in the seemingly empty infirmary, it was cold and felt uninviting, no matter how much anyone came here, how much he came here, Ace could never find the infirmary warm, it was always cold and unwelcoming.

Ace's ears picked up the sound of quiet snores, barely even there, if he didn't have observational Haki, he would not have noticed, quietly and nimbly, he walked towards the source of the sound. His steps slowed as he walked over to the last bed, the curtains drawn, hand slowly raising up to the fabric and pulling it slightly away, breathe catching in his throat as the sight of Saram came into view, the warm rays of light fell upon her slumbering figure almost like art, frecks of light across her, hair tousled and sprawled around her head as she breathes in and out slowly, quietly, hands near her face, loosely clenched as she was curled into her self slightly.

Time stood still for a moment as he stared at her, the sight so quiet and peaceful that took away the cold of the infirmary, his eyes were trained on her face, noting how tired she looked, everyone, he, himself, saw her as this strong wall that would never budge, no sign of wear or chips, Saram had painted herself as someone untouchable, unreachable, someone warm, someone tangy, someone dependable, someone kind: but how was she really?

The freckled fire wielder walked soundlessly towards her, the curtain falling back into place as he stood by her head, wordlessly he sat down on the bed's empty space beside her head, blocking the sun's rays from hitting her face, he didn't realize that his body was instinctively providing shade for her, it felt almost natural for him to do so, to sit and cover her from the harshness, to offer comfort to Saram. Ace's hand shifted, brushing away the hair framing her face and letting it linger near her cheek, his eyes softened, face loosening as she snuggled her face against his palm in her sleep.

His body was naturally warmer than others due to his devil fruit, skin always radiating heat, his crewmates would complain when he smothered them in the hot summer, whining or groaning at the hot warmth, but Saram seemed, in her sleep, to seek the warmth of his palm more, the length of his arm was like a source of warmth for her, her fingers and hands loosely pulling it close to her face and body. Ace could not bring himself to pull away from her touch, not when she looked so peaceful and at ease and childlike.

"Who are you, Saram?" Ace murmured, voice quiet, unlike his usual loud, boisterous self.

The sound of the ship's machinery echoing around them, the sound of the crew, the sound of the crates moving, the sound of Whitebeard's laugh - everything faded away into silence and only remained the sound of waves against the ship and around them. Everything faded away as he sat there, his arm held by Saram in her sleep, the warm rays of the sun on his bare back, the Whitebeard tattoo highlighted and reflected in the mirror on the wall, it reflected a picture of a tattoo, a freckled back, a man and woman.

And so Ace sat there, watching her with warm, kind eyes as she slept, lips pulled into a smile as she snuggled into his palm.

"I hope you're having a good dream." He smiled and brushed away the stray hairs on her face.

It was warm.

Warm and comforting, the smell of smoke and sun and salt, the feeling of heat and love and a foundation, she knew this, knew this feeling, knew him.

"Someday, I'll make you my wife, Saram!"

Shadowed eyes, a big bright smile, freckled skin, the freckles on his body and the tattoo on his bicep.

"When I come back, I'll never leave."

Orange hat, red bead necklace, striped thread bracelet, black boots and the sound of familiar laughter.

"I love you, Saram."

Starry nights, stolen kisses on the Striker, Deuce teasing them, the sound of waves, the feeling of salt water on her skin and the heat under the moon.

"Thank you for loving me."

She woke up with a gasp, her lungs unstable, throat closing as she sat up, rubbing her neck, breathing, trying to force herself to breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe! Cold sweat dripped down her skin as the cold moonlight fell upon her skin, the warm infirmary clashing against her iced skin, her ears were ringing, her vision blurry and swimming, she needed to get out, she needed to breathe, she needed to move—

"Saram?"

Her head moved instinctively before her eyes moved up, the ringing stopping, vision clearing as the flame walked closer to her, the warmth heating her skin as the cold moonlight hid away, she could breathe now, she could breathe now, she wasn't drowning.

"You okay?"

She didn't trust herself to speak, something was clogging her airways, she was drowning mere seconds ago, she was doing just fine, she was living, she was working, how could she fall apart like? She hadn't touched Fire Fist even a little bit. Why was her body and mind crashing again? Why? Why? Like every time when they touched, why was her soul crashing when she didn't even touch him this time.

"Marco, did Ace come in here by any chance?" She whispered to the doctor who stopped for a moment, his eyes narrowing, blue flames flickered around him for a moment, his instincts screaming.

"I think he did."

Ace leaned against the railing as he stared at the starry skies, eyes trained on the stars in the blue and black sea, his mind was full of Saram, her eyes, the way she worked, the way she solved problems wordlessly, the way she attended to Whitebeard, the way she slept — his face reddened at that thought, that's no good, going down that road of thoughts was bad.

"You like her." Haruta grinned as he perched onto the barrel beside the flame user, caressing his own mug of alcohol as he watched the freckled sun in amusement, "Really, really like her. Love her, I might even say."

"I don't love Saram." Ace retorted.

"I didn't say Saram."

Ace froze before chuckling, shaking his head, "Too witty, Haruta, too witty."

"Gonna tell her?"

"No, I think.." Ace paused as he thought back to the moment in the infirmary, "I think she already knows."

"I didn't ask whether she knows or not, I asked whether you will tell her or not."

"Don't rush me!"

"Might be good to hurry before someone else takes her away — ack!"

Haruta yelped as Ace burst into flames, literally, the latter himself looked surprised of his actions, he panicked and attempted to go back to normal, he pats his body, frantically trying to douse the fire, Haruta cackles loudly, drinking the alcohol, "Fire boy is in love."

"Go sleep!"

Turns out, Ace would have to face his feelings sooner than he had thought, if the situation at the moment indicated anything. He sighed as Whitebeard assigned him onto a mission with Saram, alone, far away, to act as a couple, a married couple. He had felt his heart drop when they announced it, now he watched as his division set up Striker. Saram came a few minutes later, a side bag slung across her body.

"Ready?" She asked quietly, looking Striker, while he kept looking at her side profile. He zoned out and didn't realize that she was calling or talking to him.

"Ace?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he flinched before nodding, "Y-Yes! I'm listening, let's go."

He jumped onto Striker first, his flames softening his jump, he looked up to see Saram still on the edge of the ship, a frown, barely visible on her lips, he felt himself raise an eyebrow, this was the first time he saw her hesitating and frowning, "Something wrong?" He asked, placing a hand on his hip.

"We're taking Striker?" She asked, voice quiet like always.

"Of course." He grinned and almost laughed as she shrunk back like a cat, "You, are you scared?"

At his words, Saram shook her head, "I am no—"

"I'll catch you, jump." He grinned, warm and intense, eyes bearing promise, her stomach churned at the intense gaze, dark eyes holding vows.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She squeezed her eyes and jumped, praying for the best, a gasp left her involuntarily when hot hands gripped her waist, feet not touching the ground, her eyes opened sharply as she looked down at him, the gummy smile with those freckles that painted his face like a canvas, he was warm, radiating heat like the sun, it always kept her safe.

"Told ya I'd catch you." He gave that signature smirk of his and Saram pushed her palm against his face, smothering it as he let out a sound of surprise, letting go of her as she stood to her feet.

"Less talking, more working."

"No thanks?" He rubbed his nose as she placed her bag onto the ground, his eyes tracked how she seemed to walk towards a corner of Striker and put her things in a manner that seemed almost practiced and used to, she even knew to lean away from the jets.

"Lets go, we have a tight schedule." Saram said as she pulled out a small map and traced it with a stencil, Ace grinned and walked towards her, planting his feet firmly against the floor of Striker, he pulled his flames and the small boat surged forward, activated by flames, he glanced back at her, "Hold on tight."

"Alright." She nodded, eyes tracing the map she had in her hand, the stencil held in her hand, she seemed perfectly balanced even as Ace increased the speed of the engines sending it soaring through the waters.

Unknown to Ace, who was looking forward with a smile, following his eternal log pose, Saram looked up at him from her seat on the floor of the small, if not tiny, boat, her eyes softening at the youthful gaze on his face, the sprinkle of sea water against him, the flow of his wavy black hair, the way he held onto his hat with one hand and that signature smug smile of his, a small, barely noticeable smile pulled onto her own lips as she looked back to the map, the Moby Dick far, far away from them.

The journey was not long but it was difficult, it was night now, colder than before, way colder than before, she was quietly watching the waves as Ace used his flames to propel the boat slowly. The latter looked at her before sitting down beside her in the squished space, their sides pressed against each other as they sat side by side.

"You're too close." Saram remarked, eyes on the waves.

"Boats small."

"uh-huh." She gave him an unimpressed look.

"Ace is dead."

The words hurt her, they tore her apart, she knew, she knew he was dead, that he was not coming back, that he was gone buried six feet under with her soul and heart while her body lived on the ground.

"I know." She whispered as she drew the last engravement in the circle.

"Then why—"

"I'll save him, Marco." She says to him through the transponder snail, knelt on the ground, fingertips rough and calloused, it has been days, weeks, months but still she was still in a loop of having dreams of his death, the blood, the tears, the scream, the words he spoke as life left him—

"Thank you for loving me."

A moment of silence before Marco spoke again, "....you know it's not your fault, right, yoi?"

Her hands paused, eyes unfocused, staring at the picture on the wall that she had pinned, that smile, that warmth, the towering height of Whitebeard, the charisma of Izou, the witty remarks of Thatch, the smug smile of Marco and the way everyone in the picture was smiling and playing around.

"It doesn't reduce the guilt of surviving when they didn't." She whispered but Marco caught it, something in him stirred, a fear of sorts, he knew that Saram could be rash in her decisions, he had a feeling she was doing something she shouldn't.

"Saram," His voice was low as he began, "Where is the book of Kronos, yoi?"

Saram smiled to herself and looked at the transponder snail, not replying and that deepened his fear, the book of Kronos was a book they obtained from a merchant, said to have the ability to transcend time, Izou and Whitebeard always used to say that messing with time had repercussions, that time was horrid and that it should not be touched, therefore the book was hidden deep away from everyone, deep within that locker in Whitebeard's room.

"Just so we're clear Marco, you never could have stopped me." She said into the transponder, Marco's heart stammered as her resigned tone of voice sounded out of the transponder, he jumped to his feet, panic in his lungs, taste of copper and iron and sour grapes filled his mouths as he yelled into the device.

"Don't do it, yoi! Messing with time is—"

"Bad? Cursed? I don't care, Marco, I want my family back, I want Ace back." She said and reached ber hand towards the snail, "For what it's worth, thank you for being the brother I never had."

"Saram—!"

The call cut off as Marco stared in silence at the transponder snail, he slumped over his table as he stilled, gripping his hair with one hand while the other clenched around his table edge, was this it? As the First Commander, he was supposed to be the strong, able to manage people and himself. Why was he losing it all? Why? Why were all his loved ones slipping through his fingers? Was this the curse of being a phoenix? Immortality and eternal life gained, in exchanged of watching his loved ones mix into the sands of time?

"Where did we go wrong, yoi?" He said quietly, a sob choked in the back of his throat, so cruel, so sweet, so harsh, "Pops, Ace, Thatch, Izou - I don't know what to do."

And under the cold moonlight, the phoenix fell apart, immortality like the chains that clung to it's free self, freedom at the cost of being a slave to the very thing that made him soar the skies, was this redemption? Was this karmic debt?

Saram took a deep breath as she stepped into the circle, a smile on her lips as golden and blue glowed around her, encasing her in a cocoon, the last thing she saw was the picture on her wall, her family, her love, staring at her as her body was tugged apart by the powers of the incantation.

"Sorry, we only have one room." The receptionist apologized and Ace felt his ears heat up, one room, with Saram, alone, was just a spell for disaster. Ace glanced back at Saram who was looking around the lobby but he could tell that she was alert, the way her eyes kept darting around, their eyes met and she gave a questioning look, he shook his head and looked back at the receptionist.

"We'll take it."

He didn't acknowledge the look that the receptionist gave as he took the keys to their room, Saram grabbed her bag while Ace did the same, the two walked in the direction of their room. There was a comfortable silence as they walked, Saram was quiet and looking around as they travelled down the hallways.

"If you feel that sharing a room with me is troubling, I can get another room in another inn."

It was the first thing Saram said when they walked into the room, Ace turned to her in surprise, eyes slightly wide before shaking his head, "No, really. It's fine."

He pretended to ignore his racing heart, his burning ears and the heat across his back. Saram pretended that she didn't notice his fingers twitching, the muscle pulsing on his neck, the slow blinks he unknowingly did to calm himself down - how would she explain that she knew his habits from another life? And so they both pretended, unknown to Ace, that they didn't know about his feelings.

Saram freshened up before Ace, dressed in comfortable clothes and hair slightly dripping wet on the tips, a quiet yawn leaving her as Ace looked up from untying his boots by the couch. A quiet, untampered eye contact occured as the two stared at each other.

"I left warm water for you."

"Thanks."

"Remember to put your boots by the door and not on the carpet."

"Got it."

"Ace."

"Yeah?"

"Will you stop staring at me and go take a shower already?"

She had a small unnoticeable smile as Ace scampered to the bathroom, his tanned skin slightly flush, Saram shook her head and used the towel to soak her hair dry. Saram walked around the room barefoot, the feeling of the soft carpet under her feet felt nice, and soothing even, Marco had told them to get a hotel closest to the infiltration area for better surveillance.

Ironically, only expensive and luxurious hotels were near the area and so the duo had to opt for a room quite above their expectations. She practically dragged Ace to this place after talking to Marco over the transponder because he was constantly walking towards the inns that were way, way far off.

She eyed the two pairs of shoes by the couch, one was her's and the other Ace's, call it being bossy but ahe didn't want the pretty carpets of their room to look dirty, and Ace's shoes were REALLY dirty. Saram sat on the windowsill, the binoculars in her hand as she used them to watch the casino they were suppsed to infiltrate.

Usually, Izou would carry out these infiltration missions but he was away with his division on another mission and the other divisions were slumped with work, that left her and Ace, who had just returned from his most recent mission, to be the ones to carry this out because there was no way she was letting the nurses on something as dangerous as this regardless of how tough they were.

Her eyes tracked the target who was mingling with the rich people of the casino, the hand gestures, the way they held themselves, the behaviorisms, the outfits - Saram noted it all, eyes narrowing as she watched through the binoculars.

"Tracking them already?" Ace's voice came from behind, she nodded, eyes still looking through the binoculars, not paying attention as Ace came to stand directly behind her, his eyes curious to look outside. Saram turned her head and immediately froze, Ace glanced and stilled.

There was a minimum distance behind their faces, Ace's body was still slightly damp from his shower, black hair tips dripping water onto her skin, heat emanating from his skin and she remembers that Ace ran hot, literally. Saram opened her mouth to speak but the words in her head never made it to her tongue as she stared at him. Her eyes watched the droplet of water slide down his neck and then averted her eyes back to his face, only for heat to blossom in her chest as she saw his gaze trained on her, steady and unadulterated.

Ace licked his lips as he stared at her, his hands clenching and unclenching and clenching by his sides constantly as she gazed back at him. He knew this was risky, feelings like his were dangerous, this was dangerous. Saram was someone who was in danger from him, he was afraid that he would consume her, her very essence was something he craved and at this moment, Portgas D. Ace wanted nothing more than to let himself consume her.

"You know, right?"

Saram did not reply to him but the way she averted her eyes was enough of an answer. Ace felt his chest clench, she knew that he was enamored with her, maybe even in love and yet she refused to speak of it, speak of him, speak of the way he, too, knew that she would always stay on deck on fixed times during his chores, be near the training yards during his spar sessions doing tasks, how she always administered medicine to Whitebeard whenever he was near the Yonko.

"You will drown, Ace, I am no good for you."

He smiled, that boyish smile she knew from another lifetime, that smile which she could not hold onto. At this moment, she saw something almost feral strange.

"Who says I am afraid of drowning?"

"You should be."

"Are you?"

Saram blinked, fingers slowly sliding up his nape, twisting into his dark locks, pulling him closer, lips ghosting against his, "I should be."

"Saram, I lo-"

And she placed her palm over his mouth, stopping him from speaking, shaking her head, "Don't, not here, not now."

His eyes bore into her own as she spoke, something almost raw and primal flashed in his eyes, Saram licked her lips as she continued, "Reach your 21st birthday and then," she paused, "I will confess to you. Not before that."

A moment of silence before his eyes lidded slightly, hot hand coming to hold her wrist, her breathe hitched as he kissed her wrist, his eyes on her, damp wavy hair shadowing his eyes.

"21st birthday, huh?"

Saram felt her throat dry up as he continued speaking.

"Then prepare yourself, Saram." He said lowly, all mirth and playfulness gone from his tone, his eyes dark and gleaming, "On my 21st birthday, I will devour you."

She gasped quietly as he bit her wrist, heart stammering, only one thought in her head.

Fuck, I am in trouble.

Can you make yandere headcanons for Silver Fullbuster? (Is it me or I'm the only who had a heavy crush on Gray's dad I'm sorry cus his dad is too fine😭)

HOLY— this idea scratches an itch in my brain, I get you darling, Silver Fullbuster appearing on screen made me go crazy and lose my mind, he's just so scrupulous. I kinda went lost with this, he's such a complex character that it's difficult to categorize him but I tried.

Silver Fullbuster NSFW headcannons (yandere)

c.w. : yandere so some dark content, slight suggestion of non-con/dub-con, blood mentioned, breeding kink

one thing about Silver is that he's always cold, skin always ice to touch and when he touches you with those cold hands, shivers run down your spine. when you try to move away, he'll hold you firmly and keep you close to him, teasing you about how you can 'take' the cold.

Silver is absolutely an expert at keeping tabs on you without you knowing. like come on, he's a demon, he uses subtle methods, like freezing areas to track movements or observing from the shadows. when he's away on missions or work, he'll keep track of you (maybe even a pretty collar made using his powers kept on your neck to keep track)

"no one will dare to touch you as long as I'm here."

he's definitely into temperature play. using coldness on your breasts, teasing your nipples until you're writhing and squirming under him. he'll caress your body and hold you down with his cold hands as he fucks you with his tongue.

you can be sure that he uses his magic to make his tongue cold as he fucks you with it, making you squirm and cry and cum as many times as he likes.

his favourite is missionary, loves seeing your face contort in pleasure even tho you protested earlier that you hate it.

pins your arms above and fucks you hard and rough or rough and sweet, depending on his mood.

ALWAYS, always he'll leave marks and bites on you, his favourite thing is to mark you, leave evidence of his ownership and love ( obsession ).

"gonna mark you, show everyone that you're mine."

thighs, chest, arms, shoulders - bitemarks and hickies everywhere.

"t'is my pussy, got it? you're mine."

Silver subtly—or not so subtly—controls aspects of your life to keep you safe. he insists on knowing where you are at all times and may even “arrange” situations to keep you near him, often under the guise of concern for your well-being. with this, he'll also make you wear skirts or shorts barely covering your ass, making it easy access for him.

"such a good girl, all this for me?"

"too cold? it's okay, darling, I'll keep your pussy warm."

heavy into making you wear a collar made of his ice and keeping a chain with it to hold onto during sex. not only during sex, he'll make you wear it around his room, praising you, touching you.

"it's my mark, baby."

"don't worry, this is just a.... countermeasure."

this man HAS a breeding kink ( I know it, don't question it ). he hold you down as he cums, thick and hot, kissing you and saying how he'll get you pregnant. he'll stay inside long after cumming inside, always inside never outside, adamant on getting you pregnant so you'll never.

"wanna be a mommy? you'll be good, f'r me yeah?"

"gonna keep you leaking, pretty girl."

he wasn't able to see Gray grow up but he'll sure as hell will make you a mother. oh, you think it's too dangerous? don't worry, hell protect you against everyone. he will burn everyone with his ice.

overstimulation. that's it. he'll make you cum on his hands and mouth multiple times before his cock even comes near you. he's addicted to those pretty sounds from your mouth, the way you writhe under him, the way your legs shake as he draw orgasm after orgasm from you— he's addicted to it all.

if he sees any man near you ( who isn't a demon of Tartarus ), he'll bathe in their blood. no one is allowed to come near you and touch you without your permission, or his. mostly his. any sign of discomfort on your face, he will bury them in ice alive.

"looked at you wrong baby, so I had to kill them."

"...all mine, my pretty girl."

Moans filled the dark room as the smell of sex was ever present and thick. The candles around the quarters provided enough, but dim, lighting and illuminated the bodies on the bed. Silver's armor was on the ground, so were his clothes. Not only his, even your clothes were on the ground, a pile in a corner.

"Such a good girl f'r me." He smiled as your legs were on his hips, back arching against the sheets as he keeps thrusting into you. Your fingers twisted around the fabric as you moan uncontrollably, another orgasm raking through your sweaty body.

He groans deeply as he continues pounding into you, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at you, taking every inch of this thick cock. You're made for me, aren't you? Made to take my cock." He grabs your hip tightly, leaving possessive marks, your voice was only a garble of words as pleasure blinded you.

"Gonna get you pregnant," He hums, a smirk on his face as he pushed your legs forward, more against your chest, opening your cunt more to him, you tightened around his cock as he reached deeper.

"Hm? You got tighter? You like that huh? The idea of being filled by my cum, being a mother?"

"S-Silver... Ngh!"

"That's right baby, cum for me. You're gonna take it right? Take my cum like a good girl?"

"..Y-Yes... Please...!"

His pace picks up, driving deep and hard, making your bindings creak against the bedpost, "That's right, take it all... you're such a good girl with your tight little pussy stretched wide open for me. Can you feel me reaching deep inside?"

His replies were your moans and whimpers, body convulsing as you cum yet again, driving your sensitive body into overdrive.

"You're mine baby, this pussy, this body, everything of yours is mine. Remember that before you try to run again."

You'll remember to never try to run again, if you didn't want him make you go through cumming hell and filling you with his cum.

Fairy Tail

"Do fairies have tails? More than that, do fairies even exist? Nobody knows for sure. So this guild is like them, an eternal mystery, an eternal adventure"

choose your mission

Natsu Dragneel [ Fire Dragon Slayer | END ]

"I am already used to taking on the same sins. For a Fairy Tail Mage, the true sin is averting one's eyes... and no longer being able to believe in anyone!"

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Gray Fullbuster [ Ice Demon Slayer ]

"Ice can even stop the time of life itself. So, you'll never be able to catch up, for eternity. You'll always be stuck there, staring at the fairy tail."

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Sting Eucliffe [ The White Dragon ]

"Victory shall be mine... At any and all costs."

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Laxus Dreyar [ Lightning Dragon Slayer ]

"I'm gonna surpass you one day. Not for my father, but for myself. So I can become a man in my own right."

Lightning Sparks and Dew Light

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Jellal Fernandes [ The Fallen Star ]

"This is my sin for giving in to my own weaknesses. My heart just couldn't keep up with the gigantic gap between dreams and reality."

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Loke/Leo [ The Lion ]

"Do you understand the sorrow of a star that cannot return to the heavens?" 

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Zeref Dragneel [ The Black Wizard ]

"Could this too be caused by the curse of contradictions...? Or is it my own emotions? I'm not entirely sure."

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Ignia Dragneel [ The Fire Dragon God ]

"I don’t give my respect freely. Earn it. Prove that the blood of Igneel flows through you as hot as mine."

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Yuri Dreyar [ Radiant Blaze ]

"After I've calmed down a bit some more, how about we go look for some fairies?"

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misceallenous

voracious [ Flare Corona ] [NSFW] mdni

realising they have feelings [ Laxus Dreyer | Sting Eucliffe ]

Yandere NSFW Headcannons [ Silver Fullbuster ]

One Piece

"You want my treasure, you can have it. I left everything I gathered together in one place. Now, you just have to find it."

choose your treasure navigation

Monkey D Luffy [ Straw Hat Luffy ]

"I'm going to be the King of Pirates!"

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Roronoa Zoro [ Pirate Hunter ]

"Only those who have suffered long, can see the light within the darkness."

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Vinsmoke Sanji [ Black Leg ]

"Everyone has things they can do and cannot do. I'll do what you can't do, and you do what I can't do."

darling, you're a drug

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Trafalgar D. Water Law [ Surgeon Of Death ]

"You always told me that it was coming — that a new era would come along, pulled along by an unstoppable tide. The Age of the Daring Ones."

night watch under the sea

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Portgas D. Ace [ Fire Fist ]

"Sorry, I'm Not Interested In Living 1000 Years. I Just Need To Live Today."

in your eyes [Marineford AU!/Modern Reader]

Infernos's Promise 1

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Shanks [ Red-Haired Shanks ]

"We're pirates! We don't play by the rules!"

Tides of Possession

Somewhere in the past : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

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Marco [ Marco the Phoenix ]

"Don't take “Whitebeard's” 1st division commander lightly!"

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Koby [ Hero ]

"I promised myself that I would be a true Marine someday!"

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Sabo [ Flame Emperor ]

"How about we fight for old time's sake, Ace!"

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