#marine!reader

“Pink in the morning, sailors warning...” You mutter, lifting a cup of tea to your lips, sipping the warm delicate concoction. Gazing out at the pink horizon as the morning sun washes the sparkling ocean with brilliant vibrant reds, oranges and golden hues of colours, the large choppy waves sending the navy ship in a rocky rhythm.

Standing at the bow of the ship, the large gusts of wind blowing and tugging at the navy coat hanging on off your shoulders. Closing your eyes, you take in the fresh sea salt air. You could almost enjoy the serenity of the moment— only if the men behind you weren’t busy emptying their stomachs over the side. Another retch, another groan, another splash into the waves below. You sigh. Nothing ruins the romance of the sea quite like seasick sailors.

“Rear Admiral Y/N—we’ve received yet another report that you let a pirate go.”

The oh-so-familiar voice echoes behind you, carrying the weight of authority, but you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

“Grandpa—”

“Vice Admiral Garp.” He corrects you instantly, drawing a smirk across your lips. It’s always amusing to hear him sound so proper when you’ve only ever known him as the man who cooed at you like a doting fool since you were a little girl.

“Vice Admiral Garp,” you repeat with mock obedience, finally turning on your heel to face him. He meets your gaze, steadfast as always, but you don’t miss the faint twitch of irritation that flickers across his features.

“I was merely completing my duties…” you defend smoothly, your sultry voice wrapping around your words like delicate velvet. If luck is on your side, you’ll be able to wiggle your way out of this—just like always. You take a leisurely sip of your tea before continuing. “I had to consider the situation at hand—Portgas D. Ace of the Whitebeard Pirates, or the group of low-level brats actively harassing innocent villagers for money.”

“Ace is a wanted pirate with a higher bounty than the ones you dragged in. It would’ve been better—”

“How could I turn my back on civilians who needed my help just to chase a bigger name?” you counter smoothly, your cunning grin resurfacing. “It would be in poor form for any Marine to prioritise the capture of a high-profile target over the safety of the people. Especially when Ace was simply… shopping.”

Garp exhales sharply, stepping closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you can hear.

“You and I both know you let Ace go. And not for any noble reason—just because you didn’t want to arrest the boy you grew up with.”You meet his stare with a slow, knowing smile, your amusement never wavering. “If it were Luffy, I know you’d let him go even if he was committing a crime right before your eyes.”

“That’s a mighty presumptuous claim… and impossible to prove.” You wiggle your brows in victory, savoring the small triumph.

Garp sighs, rubbing his temple, already done with your antics. “Maybe so. Regardless, Koby and Helmeppo here is assigned to observe your work and report any misconduct.”

Your grin vanishes.

You follow Garp’s gesture to the pink-haired boy standing awkwardly at attention beside him and the weird blonde kid with long slicked back hair, his squared shoulders and puffed out chest showing obscene superiority complex’s. Koby offers a small, nervous smile.

Your tea suddenly tastes bitter.

“Good Luck Koby and Helmeppo, you’ll need it.” Garp mumbles, throwing you one last glance as you wave him off ceremoniously.

It had taken some effort, but eventually, you managed to shake off the two guard dogs assigned to monitor your every move.

Weaving through the bustling crowd at the docks, you made your way toward the ship you had studied in newspapers for years. The Thousand Sunny.

Your heart pounded with each step, anticipation and nerves intertwining in a tight knot. It had been so long since you’d seen him. What if he acted distant? Dismissive? After all, you had pursued your dream of becoming a Marine, and Luffy had pursued his dream of becoming a pirate. Two different paths. Two different worlds. Natural-born enemies.

Doubt crept in, urging you to turn around—but before you could, a familiar, booming voice tore through the noise of the crowd.

“Y/N! What the heck are you doing here?! I missed you!”

Before you could react, Luffy’s rubber arms slingshotted toward you, wrapping around you in an instant. Any chance of escape vanished as you were yanked straight into him with a forceful oof! Normally, you’d be irritated by his careless manhandling, but right now? Right now, you couldn’t care less. A grin broke across your face as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight in return.

“I missed you so much, Stretch,” you whispered, wishing you could stay like this forever.

A sharp voice shattered the moment.

“Luffy! What do you think you’re doing?!”Glancing up, you spotted Usopp gawking at you in disbelief.

“A Marine!” Brook screeched, clutching his skull in horror.

“Huh? Where?!” Luffy’s arms snapped away from you as he scanned the crowd, placing a hand over his brow as if looking for danger.

You nearly snorted at his cluelessness. “Stretch…” you drawled, shaking your head. “It’s me. I’m the Marine. Rear Admiral, in fact.”

You straightened your back, your Marine-issued coat settling perfectly on your shoulders.

Luffy blinked. “Huh…? Oh yeahhhhh…” He tilted his head. “You’re not gonna arrest me, are ya?”

You laughed, leaning into him. “I wouldn’t arrest my own husband—”

“HUH?!”

The crew erupted in unison. As you stepped onto the Thousand Sunny, their horror-stricken faces only made you laugh harder.

“Huh?! You’re married??” They scream in unison.

As you take a final step onto the Thousand Sunny, you couldn’t help but laugh at their horror filled expression.

“Married?! As in—he’s your husband?!” Nami blurted out, pointing at Luffy like he had just grown a second head.

“Are you deaf, Nami? Y/N is my wife!” Luffy declared proudly.

A vein popped on Nami’s forehead as she grabbed Luffy by the cheeks, pinching hard. “I CAN HEAR PERFECTLY FINE, MORON!”

Luffy whined in pain as Usopp and Chopper freaked out in the background, while Sanji took a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes widening as if a missing puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. “It all makes sense now.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I thought you were insane for rejecting Boa Hancock, but now? Now I get it. Our captain is loyal to a fault.”

Luffy simply nodded, while your brow twitched.

You turned to him, smiling sweetly—too sweetly. “Just remember, my love… I’m still a Marine. And I’ll hunt you down if you ever betray me. Got it?”

A heavy silence hung in the air.

Luffy scratched his head, looking genuinely confused. “Huh— why would I do that? You can do whatever you want, it makes no difference to me. But you’re the only one for me.” His words are said so honestly, it was thoughtless. But his words pierced your heart like nothing else.

Brook leaned forward, cradling a cup of tea in his skeletal hands. “Soooo… are you finally going to tell us how you two ended up married? I mean, Luffy is a pirate, and you’re a Marine…”Before you could even part your lips to respond, Luffy swiped the tea straight from Brook’s hands and shoved it into yours.

Brook barely had time to blink before you took a leisurely sip, unfased by Luffy’s antics. You hummed, settling into his side. “Long story short, I grew up at Dadan’s with Luffy, Ace, and Sabo. Luffy was always looking after me,” you cooed, nudging him playfully. “Making sure I ate, drank water, and had somewhere to sleep.”You took another sip of tea, letting the warmth settle. “Ace and Sabo got mad that Luffy kept ditching pirate training to bring me flowers, so they decided to host us a wedding in hopes he would stop— and the rest is history.”

Luffy grinned like it was the most natural thing in the world, while the crew sat in stunned silence, trying to process what they had just heard.

Franky begins to sob loudly into his elbow. “You guys! That was so sweet, ugh god, I’m so alone!” Robin begins to pat Franky’s shoulder.

“There- there Franky, even if you are lucky enough to to find romance, we all die alone in the end. So there is really no need to be anxious over being alone now, because will still be alone to the bitter end.” Franky jerks away from Robins ‘comfort’.

“Cut-it-out with all that depressing stuff! You’re making me feel worse.” The crew all just laugh.

You’re elated to see your husband so happy, glad that despite your different paths, you can still witness him achieving his dreams, even if it means he isn’t immediately beside you like he often was.

Having someone constantly breathing down your neck was starting to grate on your nerves.

No matter where you turned, Koby or Helmeppo—or both—were watching. Their eyes bore into scrutinising your every move. It was becoming a real hassle.

But what surprised you most was when, one day, they barged into your office unannounced.

“You have a history of letting pirates go.” Koby’s voice rang with accusation, his expression stern. You arched a brow at the sudden bold intrusion.

“Oi, you wiggly weasels! Rear Admiral Y/n is busy!” One of your officers barked, jabbing a thick finger into Koby’s squared shoulders. “Get outta here with your ludicrous accusations!”

You glanced at your crew, their loyalty unwavering, their tempers flaring on your behalf.

“It’s fine, men.” You waved a dismissive hand, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Koby, Helmeppo, take a seat.”

Leaning back in your chair, you flashed that slippery smile of yours. “Officer, a cup of tea, please.”

“Right away, ma’am!” The officer saluted crisply.

“One for me too, please.” Helmeppo added.

The officer snorted. “Get it yourself, scum.” With that, the door slammed shut behind him.

Helmeppo scoffed. “It’s amazing how you’ve brainwashed your crew.”

A slow grin tugged at the corner of your lips. “It’s important for any leader to share their vision. A crew that understands the goal will work together to achieve it.” You let your fingers drum against the desk. “My men understand that perfectly. Those who don’t? Well… they don’t last long on my ship.”

“In other words, anyone who doesn’t sympathise with criminals gets thrown out.” Helmeppo deadpanned.

You clicked your tongue. “Spoken like a man from privilege.” Your smile soured, eyes narrowing as you pinned him in place. He swallowed thickly.

“To me, Helmeppo, the world has always been clear—there are criminals who are greedy, and criminals who are desperate for a better life.” Your voice was steady, yet sharp as steel. “I’ve lived a life where I can see the difference. So tell me—why do we protect Warlords like Doflamingo, who commit heinous crimes unchecked, yet Marines relentlessly pursue pirates like Straw Hat Luffy, who has liberated countries where the Marines have failed?”

The desk rattled as your fist slammed onto its surface.

At that moment, the door creaked open, and a fresh cup of tea was placed into your waiting hands.

“We’ve all seen Marines abuse their authority.” The officer who delivered your tea spoke evenly, eyes flicking toward Koby and Helmeppo. “And we’ve all witnessed organisations rise to protect the people the Marines neglect— Fisher Tiger of the Sun Pirates saved my daughter from the Celestial Dragons.”

The two froze, realisation settling over them like a heavy fog. Your entire crew—every last one of them—held their own discretion when executing the law.

“Your whole crew is criminal!” Helmeppo accused, his voice rising in frustration. “You are not judges! Who are you to decide who is the bigger evil?!”

You tilted your head, a brow arching. “So you believe we should never overlook a single crime?”

“A crime is a crime! The guilty should be punished!” Helmeppo snapped.

Your smirk deepened, venomous and triumphant. “I’m so glad you said that.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted the report handed to you moments ago, flipping through the pages. “Because, you see, my husband shared the most interesting story with me recently.”

The officer beside you held up a fresh file, thick with reports. Your grin widened. “For instance, Koby—you were a cabin boy for Alvida.”

“That wasn’t willing!” Koby sputtered.

You tisked, shaking your head. “In the eyes of the law, that doesn’t matter.”

Your attention shifted to Helmeppo. “And you—you abused your father’s position to terrorise civilians.”

Helmeppo stiffened but said nothing. Unlike Koby, he knew better than to fight a losing battle. He leaned back, defeated.

Then, with a calculated pause, you pulled out another file. “And as for Garp—he’s committed multiple crimes himself. He raised the son of Gol D. Roger despite an active warrant and, on multiple occasions, failed to arrest my husband when he had the chance.”Silence hung heavy in the air. Koby and Helmeppo sat frozen, absorbing the weight of the unspoken threat. You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm, your smile now deceptively sweet. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You will clear my name, and my crew’s. And if you don’t?”

Your grin sharpened, eyes glinting with dangerous amusement.

You were bored, your legs had started to throb from having to stand still for so long, and you didn't like how the Prince kept giving you glances before turning to the King and muttering something to his ear with that stupid grin and reddened cheeks. God, you just wanted to leave already!

Your coworkers, Lines and Eliza, were on opposite sides of the room as well and looked just as done with the ordeal. However, the alliance agreements -or whatever the hell they were talking about now, you had stopped listening ages ago- between the Nagagutsu and the Satsuruzo Kingdom were yet to be finished, so all you could do was... wait.

It was hard not to lock eyes with Prince Tritobu when he made it so clear he was staring at you, as if you were an animal at a zoo on display for his enjoyment. Still, you were adamant about not returning the gesture because you had the feeling that if you did even for a second, he would see it as you reciprocating his feelings and then come after you after this meeting.

Ugh.

You weren't exactly into men with a double chin, stubble around their mouth, and short blond hair, especially so when they were known to have no problem with using their position to "convince" the ladies to sleep with them.

...Honestly, why were most noblemen like this?

You looked at the clock. This meeting started around eight, but you were ordered to come at five, and now it was almost one o'clock. You had not anticipated that this damn thing would take so long, so you had nothing but a piece of toast with a bit of jam and tea for breakfast before leaving.

And while you were starving here, all these pompous assholes were stuffing their greedy mouths with bruschettas, tartelettes, and all the other fancy stuff you didn't even know how to pronounce the names of, let alone taste before.

Being a Marine really did mean getting the short end of the stick, didn't it...

Well, at least you could get something to eat from the market after this was over. If you were lucky, you would maybe even avoid the lunch rush, too. You had gotten this Éclair thing a few days before, it was stuffed with this vanilla cream that was just so good, and you wanted to buy another one before leaving the island again. It was a bit expensive, 450 belli a piece, but definitely worth the price. That, and a plate of fries. The ones they mix spices with, too, and not with that cheap ketchup and mayonnaise that tasted like crap the fast-food restaurants always gave you.

Gosh, just the thought of food made your mouth water...

It was a really beautiful day. The sky was clear and had this beautiful blue to it; the weather was neither cold nor hot enough to make you sweat, with a bit of breeze that carried the smell of the ocean. Well, being close to the docks probably helped, too. But, really, this was not the kind of day you would have wanted to waste inside, watching old men argue out this and that, and you regretted not changing shifts with that one girl you shared a room with when she had asked last weekend; what was her name again? Yoko? This might sound mean, but you hadn't really talked to her much since you knew you were only staying at Nagagutsu for six or so months before being shipped away again anyway. All you knew was that she was one of those legacy hires or something like that. At least, that was what you had heard from the others, gossiping, while you were busy using the loo. You hadn't really been paired to work together thus far, either.

You think you were about to doze off again when the men got up, the way they pushed their seats, scratching on the marble floor, startling you. Oh, so it was finally over, then? You quickly wiped away the little stream of drool that had escaped your lips with the back of your hand before anyone looked at you. You were thankful that no one had seen this, really.

Then, you heard a cough and turned your head. It was Lines, and he motioned for both you and Eliza to leave with a nod of his head. You didn't question him and just did as he instructed, as he got between you two and the rest of the noblemen.

"Let me escort you to your next destination, sir." He said to the King.

Furrari huffed and took another puff from his smoke with his son Tritobu standing behind him, looking flustered. He was probably upset that he couldn't go after you and your coworker since the King hadn't dismissed him yet.

Ah, who would have thought there would be a day you would be glad about all those noble etiquettes and hierarchies?

Lines could really get annoying with his constant arguments and ordering around, but at least he made sure no one tried to harass his subordinates, and you really appreciated that.

"It's finally over!" Eliza whined next to you as you two stood at the left side of the grand door. "My legs are killing me!"

"Tell me about it. My legs are cramping really badly. I want to sit down somewhere and rest a bit!"

"Same!"

Then, you noticed Lieutenant Commander coming your way and saluted him. Fullbody nodded but didn't stop to talk to either of you and entered the meeting room instead. He was probably going to escort the King of Satsuruzo and his spokespeople to the docks, and, of course, take all the credit for a good day's work.

Then, Eliza peeped inside, clearly trying to hear what they were talking about.

"Stop it," you nudged her. "You'll get reprimanded if you get caught."

"Haha! Sorry!" She smiled, scratching the back of her head, while not at all looking apologetic. "Aren't you curious what is going on in there, though?"

You shrugged. "Not really. It won't affect me either way, you know?"

"It will affect the kingdom and its citizens, though."

"No one was screaming or anything," You dismissed her. "So it's probably fine."

"Wow," the girl crossed her arms. "Your work diligence is very admirable, Miss Warrant Officer."

"Oh, shut it. Why do you care so much, anyway? You can ask Lines later if you're that worried."

"He won't tell everything, though!"

"Well...that's the point. You know, to keep the state secrets and all that? He would get into a shit ton of legal trouble, otherwise."

The other pouted but didn't say anything further. Really, she was so nosy sometimes, you were worried that she would find herself in a cell in Marineford for breaking privacy laws or something like that.

The noblemen finally left, following the Lieutenant Commander. You felt as if you could finally breathe freely now that their constant judgmental gaze wasn't on you anymore.

"Good job, lasses," Lines said then and closed the doors to the meeting room. "Everything went really smoothly in there."

"All we did was stand like statues, though." You complained. Yeah, it was an easy job, but when you had joined the Marines, you hadn't exactly been expecting to babysit Kings and Queens all the damn time, rather than doing something actually productive.

"I will take this over running around the battlefield any day," the man said. "Did you ever get shot? That shit is not fun, I can tell you that much, and takes a long while to heal."

"...Well, I guess you're right about that."

"Can we take our break now, then?" Eliza asked, then. "I got up at three to get here on time, you know? I'm exhausted, sir!"

The man looked like he wanted to object, so you quickly agreed, "Yes. We can barely keep our eyes open, and I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!"

"A little break would help greatly, Lieutenant! We won't be too much help if we can't even see straight, right?"

That seemed to do the trick. "Fine..." Lines sighed, as if you two going for lunch was greatly inconveniencing him. "I'll give you two hours, got it?" He looked at his watch. "Be back here at three-fifteen, and then I'll inform you of your next duties for the day."

"Yes, sir!" You said, and the other girl followed your lead. "Thank you, Lieutenant!"

Both of you quickly went down the hallway before the man could change his mind, and started to chat about this and that.

"I think I'll just grab something from the cafeteria and then have a quick nap," Eliza said as she stretched her arms above her. "What about you?"

"I'm not eating that crap they serve there," you said. Just the thought of it made your face contort in disgust. "It's gross, and the plates are always dirty, too. I'll go find something at the town square or something."

"Really?" She tilted her head as if this was the first time she was hearing about this. "I don't think it's that bad."

"Every week, something nasty comes out of the food, be it hair, gravel, or" you almost gagged, "nail."

"...I think that happened only, like, once."

"That's one time too many, Eliza! How the hell does something like that end up in soup, anyway? Clearly, someone did it on purpose!"

The girl shrugged. "Could be worse."

You looked at her, horrified. "What could be worse? Wait-! You know what? I don't want to know, don't tell me."

"Hahaha!" Eliza slapped your back. "Is that why you stack so many instant noodles every time you go to the commissary?"

"Yup. At least I know no one touched that."

"Isn't it unhealthy, though? I thought they caused cancer or something."

"I don't care. I'll risk getting a stomach ulcer than eat that crap they serve us as food here any time."

"Jeesh," The girl said. "By the way! I noticed how casual you were with the Lieutenant today. Are you guys friends?" Then she smirked and nudged your side, "Or...perhaps...a bit more?"

You scoffed. Even the idea of dating Lines was ridiculous. "Don't even start. We took training in the same division back then. He might try to look all respectable and wise, but he's actually a total blockhead. I was actually surprised to see him at Nagagutsu, you know?"

That seemed to get the other girl's attention. She was such a gossip, honestly. "Really?!"

"Oh, yeah. He did stupid shit all the time. Got caught smoking in the toilets, broke a pipe and flooded the bathroom, got punished several times for skipping training, got caught talking to a call lady with a government-issued den den, tried to flirt with the older cadets, fought with other guys all the time... But I guess his attempts to try to turn a new leaf are commendable now that we're actual Marines with pretty good ranks."

"Wow! He really did all that?"

"Oh, he did so much more. It's actually diabolical that he wasn't kicked out for all the stunts he pulled. He would actually die if he knew I told you this, so keep it to yourself, okay?"

She nodded, though you didn't miss the mischievous glint she had in her eyes. "Your secret is safe with me!"

"It better be!" You warned. "Or I'll make sure you go down with me, Eliza! I don't want him to chew me out when I just got a couple of months left here."

She chuckled. "Okay, okay! I swear! I won't imply anything or tease him! At least...until you're relocated again."

Hmm...

You know what? That was ... actually fine. Pretty good, even. You could live with that. Lines had complained about how boring things were here a few times anyway, so this might as well give him that fire he so desperately seemed to want, right?

...And he did sneak into your office and eat your truffles a few weeks ago. Two-thirds of the pack at that, too. Gluttonus bastard. You were still salty about that. They had cost you over 5000 belli at the time!

"....Give me a call when that happens. I want to know how he loses it."

Eliza winked. "No problem, Y/N!" Then, she stopped in her tracks. "Oh, by the way! Since you're going out anyway, could you go to the post office for me? I got a letter a few days ago, but I didn't have the time to go."

"I'm not sure if they would give it to me, but I can try. Do you have your ID?"

She reached into her pocket and handed it to you. "Here."

"Okay. I'll be going, then."

"Thanks! See you later."

"Bye."

And with that, you parted your ways. When you finally left the palace doors and walked towards the gates, the warm sun hit you. It was nice, and you wished you had left your jacket and tie inside. You were too lazy to go back, however, so you just headed towards the town square with them held under your arm instead.

Some civilians greeted you when you walked past them, and a few kids asked if you could help them get their kite back that was stuck on a tree, but other than that, everything was calm. You almost fell and hurt your knee, but it was fine. At least the kids were happy and playing again.

The post office was the first place you went to. There was a long line at the counter, and it took half an hour just to get there. It made you feel a bit of regret for agreeing to help the other, if you were being truthful.

"Good afternoon," you said to the young man. "I'm here to pick up a letter."

"Got any ID?"

You slipped Eliza's ID. "Here."

The guy took it, and you watched as his brows furrowed when he looked at the photo, then you.

"It's my coworker's," you explained. "She couldn't leave her patrol, so I came to collect it for her."

"I see. May I check your ID as well, then, miss? Sorry for the trouble, but this is standard procedure. We don't want mail to get stolen, you know?"

"Sure, no problem." You said. "I don't have my citizens' ID with me, though. Would a Navy-issued Field ID suffice?"

"Of course."

"Here, then."

He took your card next and checked something at the back before returning with the letter in question.

"Here you go, miss," the young man said, and pushed both the IDs and the letter towards you. "I'll need to get your signature before you leave, though."

"Okay."

You didn't really bother with reading the slip and just signed wherever you were pointed at before you were handed a copy. "Have a nice day!" You told the guy and put the IDs back into your pocket.

The envelope was old and yellowish, you noticed, and had a drawing of a little dragon and a koala wearing a big hat at the corner. It was kinda cute.

They all looked like they were drawn by different people, though. Maybe it was from Eliza's siblings or something? You weren't really sure if she had any sisters or brothers, however, and no one had bothered to write their names on it. Did you forget about it, perhaps? Or maybe it was from her friends back from her hometown, that was an option, too.

Whatever. You could ask her later, anyway.

You put the envelope in your pocket, too, carefully as well, but you were sure it would get wrinkled either way. Hopefully, it didn't have any photographs or anything sentimental like that.

Now, you could finally eat...!

You quickly made your way to the small restaurant near the bazaar and looked around until you saw the [Kajika] sign. Oh, you could already smell the sizzling oil and the spices from here! You had already visited this place several times a week in the last two months and were pretty much a regular, so the owner, Mrs. Lucie, recognized you when you got into line and smiled at you.

"Nice to see yo' again, Miss," the woman greeted you. "What can I get yo' today?"

You looked at the menu behind her, "Good afternoon, ma'am, I would like to get some shaker fries with sour cream seasoning, and a bottle of cola, please!"

"Comin' right up! It'll be 1,115 belli."

You pulled out your wallet and gave her a 5000 belli bill, then pocketed the change.

"Here." She handed you your receipt. "You can tell the waitress if it's for here or to go."

"Thank you."

You looked around to see if you could find somewhere to sit, but alas, every table was full. Well, mostly. Some people hogged the chairs with their backpacks and jackets even though they were sitting alone, but you didn't really fancy sitting in front of a stranger, anyway, so you just decided to go to a park or find a bench to eat your meal at the end.

You got your fries in a bag, and they handed you the cola right there.

"And this is something extra for you, miss." The waitress smiled at you and gave you another little package.

"Oh! What's this?"

"An apple pie pocket. The owner told us to give you something a little extra, you know?" She told you. "It's still hot, though, so be careful!"

Jackpot. Now you have something sweet after lunch, and it didn't even cost you a dime! Being a regular was definitely the best.

"Tell her I say thank you. Have a nice day."

You happily left the restaurant and searched for a nearby place to sit while adding the spice to the bag of fries and shaking them. It smelled so good!

You checked your watch. You had forty-five minutes left before you had to return to the palace. "Jeesh," you sighed to yourself. "I hope I don't have to attend another conference today."

A few feet before you, you saw a new shop opening. It was another Nyarmani clothing store. "How can people afford this stuff?" you wondered to yourself as you gazed at the designer garments inside.

Your eyes caught a particular dress that was just your taste. Light blue, short-sleeved, it went a little past the knees. It looked very well-fitted on the mannequin's body, too.

Really, no wonder the guy was known as the Emperor of the Fashion World. He really knew his way with clothing. But, come on, 15,000 belli for one dress? That was almost half your salary!

...Maybe you could afford to get one after you got your New Year's bonus.

....If you had any money extra after you paid the next installment of your trainee loan, that was.

You sighed as you walked away from the store and started to look around to find somewhere to sit instead. Civilians all around you were going about their way, merchants were shouting to get your attention to get you to buy this or that, while kids whose school just ended were running to either play with their friends or home to take a nap.

You were a little unfortunate with your endeavour, and when your stomach growled, you said, "Screw it," and grabbed a handful of fries and stuck them in your mouth. The seasoning got everywhere, of course, and a little voice in your head kept telling you it was too unhygienic to eat with your hands when you spent the whole day touching countless door handles, but you opted to ignore it for now.

Then, when you were just about to take a sip from your cola, your den den started to ring.

"Fu-ugh, what is it now?" You swore under your breath.

Pereperepere....pereperepere....pereperepere....

You reached for the small snail but then stopped. Your hands were dirty. Gosh, you forgot to get some napkins! Damn it!

Pereperepere....pereperepere....pereperepere....

Okay, okay! Uhh... there were no fountains here, but...uh... screw it. You just wiped them onto your jacket and tried not to cringe. Now it smelled like sour cream, but at least your uniform wasn't stained, right?

Pereperepere....pereperepere....pereperepere....

You then grabbed the damn snail and accepted the call.

"Yes? Warrant Officer is speaking."

"Warrant Officer Y/N!" Some rookie screamed from the other side. "We've got a PRT161820 situation!"

Shit, of course it had to be pirates out of all things. You didn't even get to finish your lunch! "Where?!"

"East Coast! They were hiding their vessel as a trader's ship, but someone spotted their Captain! He was wearing a straw hat!"

"You mean that Monkey guy?!" You asked, flabbergasted. "Shit! I didn't think that a rookie like that would actually manage to reach Paradise! How the hell did they even do that with that small ship?"

"No idea! But he and his crew are causing havoc right now! Lieutenant Commander Fullbody already went to catch them, Miss! But the crew separated, and he wants you to get your squad and deal with the little guys while he gets the captain!

"I'm nowhere near the base, damnit!" You swore and tossed away your lunch. And so was your money wasted as well. Gosh, why could you not catch a break? "What's Lieutenant Lines doing right now?"

"He's trying to stop the monster from destroying the town!"

"...A what now?"

"A monster, Miss!" He repeated. "Their raccoon dog ate some pills and turned into a huge creature somehow! It's running around punching buildings!"

Okay, that was not something you'd try to understand right now. "Okay, I'm coming back right now. Please inform SQ11 that they should get ready!"

"Yes, Warrant Officer!"

'Gatcha,' the den den closed its eyes, and you stuffed the little thing back into your pocket as you dashed down the road. The civilians who saw your alarmed face quickly opened up the way for you as well, standing near the stalls to get out of your way, while mumbling to each other what was happening and if they should be worried as well.

You hoped there wouldn't be much to worry about, but, at the end of the day, these were pirates they were facing, and things never went well when those scums came to an island.

You weren't really that familiar with the Strawhat Pirates, but you knew that they had at least one devil-fruit user, their Captain. This meant it would be tricky to fight him. What were his powers again? Something that had to do with rubber, you were sure of it. You should go and check if you have any sea-stone handcuffs and maybe even bullets. Yes, Nagagutsu was a very small kingdom, but, as far as you knew, any island registered under the World Government was given a yearly supply of sea-stone made ammunition exactly for this type of event. And it wasn't like this place got attacked by anyone since your arrival, so there had to be something useful.

Well, you didn't get to think about it much before you were stopped in your tracks and slammed against the wall. The back of your head bounced against the stone, and before you knew it, your head was spinning, and a very sharp and very deadly sword was held against your throat.

Great. Really, just great.

"Let's use this one as a human shield!" The man on top of you said. It took a couple of seconds for your eyes to adjust again, but the one thing you noticed about him was his green hair.

You tried to kick him away from you, but it didn't exactly do anything. It was quite pathetic, really. Thank God that none of your colleagues were here to see it, at least.

"Oh? You got a jarhead already?" Another man appeared from the side. This one was blond, holding a smoke between his lips. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were probably from the Straw Hats' crew, too. "Didn't expect you to-What the hell are you doing, you idiot?! Leave the pretty lady alone!"

...Wait, what?

And just like that, before you could even open your mouth, the swordsman was kicked away from you. With a very violent kick to the head, too, mind you. "What the hell, you stupid cook?! I thought we were going to take a hostage?!"

"How dare you hold a sword against a woman's throat, you piece of shit?! I'll beat your ass to a pulp!"

"I would like to see you try, swirly brow!"

Okay... now you were confused. These two idiots were kicking and cursing each other like they were mortal enemies, and it made you question whether the blond one was actually a pirate or just a civilian who had jumped to help you.

But they did agree on...finding a hostage, right? So, surely, he was, at least, some kind of criminal?

Well, no matter, you had to stop them either way, so you pulled up your gun and raised it. It was the swordsman who noticed it first. "Shit-"

And just as you gave the first warning shot, he sliced the bullet in fucking half as if it were the easiest thing before he got a hold of you again and held your hands against your back. Very roughly, too, mind you!

You tried to break free from him, but it didn't really do much. "Damn it..!"

"Zoro! I told you to stop hurting the lady!" The blond said again and kicked him behind the leg. The man fell on his ass as you got free. "You really don't learn, do you, you piece of shit?"

You quickly grabbed your gun, but it had broken when it fell to the ground.

Great.

"Haa?!" The Zoro guy said. It looked like they butted heads like this often. "What else was I supposed to do? In case you didn't notice, she was trying to shoot us!"

"So what?"

"'So what?'?! What? You have a death wish or something? You should be thanking me, stupid!"

The blond ignored him and rushed towards you, "I apologize for how this oaf treated you, Mademoiselle! It won't happen again! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I, uh, I'm fine," you stuttered. "I-"

"I'm so glad to hear this, Madame," he kissed the back of your hand, then, "Ah! How rude of me! I'm Sanji, by the way, at your disposal!"

This was the weirdest encounter you had with a criminal, but fuck it, you could adapt.

"Well, Sanji, you and your friend are under arrest for assault on an officer."

The blond looked at you for a moment, then he just lost it, with heart eyes and everything. "Really, Lady?! Of course, of course, please, do! Please handcuff me and take me with you!"

Okay, he was far too into this, right?

"Oh my God, you cannot be serious right now!" Zoro groaned from behind and actually looked disgusted. "We need to find the others and get the hell out of here!"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Sanji said, and extended his wrists to you instead. "Go ahead, Miss! Handcuff me! I'll comply with everything!"

Really? He really wasn't going to fight you? That was new.

You actually pulled out them out and got ready to handcuff him.

"Sorry, woman, but that's not happening."

"Wha-!"

Aaand, that damned swordsman cut them into little pieces, too. Was using a sword actually that easy?

"God damn it, Zoro!" The blond huffed. "Just go and leave us alone!"

"Yeah!" You agreed. "If he wants to get arrested, then it is his right to do so; you don't get to boss him around." And if you could at least bring in one criminal in, then, hopefully, Lieutenant Commander would leave you off the hook for this mess. "Why are you even still here?"

"You two cannot be serious right now..."

"Why the hell not? It was my-"

Then, your den den started to scream again. "Warrant Officer Y/N! We got two of the pirates! A long-nosed guy and his orange-haired girlfriend! We're handing them to SQ11. Please get to them and assist them in transferring the criminals to the underground cells!"

Yup, great timing, that one.

"Oh, no!" The blond suddenly roared. "My beautiful Nami is in danger! I need to save her!"

"...Really. So is Usopp, you know?"

"So? A man should be able to save his own ass, you know? It's not like he's defenseless or anything."

"For fuck's sake," the swordsman huffed and quickly grabbed you again.

"Hey-!"

"I told you not to hurt her, Zoro!"

"I'm not hurting her, you stupid cook," the man spat back. "I'm disarming her so that I don't have to hurt her."

"Oh! That's...actually smart of you. I didn't think you could actually think and plan that far."

Zoro looked like he was going to snap back, but then just huffed and shook his head.

He held your wrists in one hand and then broke an iron pipe on the wall with his other, before bending them to make a makeshift pair of handcuffs, practically making you bound to the building like a dog on a leash.

You tugged at the pipe with all you got, but it did not budge. You couldn't even bend your hands with how tight it was, let alone pull them out.

What the fuck? How was this even possible?

And these guys were supposed to be rookies?

...Damn.

"Okay," Zoro said, and wiped his hands for a job well done. "We can leave now."

"Oh, by the way," he reached to you to grab something from your inner pocket.

"H-hey?! What the hell?!"

"I'm taking this."

You looked down.

It was your den den.

"Hell no! You can't take that!"

"Sorry, but I'm not exactly asking now, am I?"

"Zoro! I'm not letting you steal from the pretty lady!"

"Yeah? Then how the hell are we supposed to find Nami and Usopp before they gett their asses killed?"

"Agh...! I hate it when you're right!"

The swordsman rolled his eyes before grabbing the other man. "Let's go!"

"W-Wait, at least let me make sure the lady is fine!" Then, "You're going in the wrong direction, you idiot! You can't even distinguish your left and right?"

"Shut up! You lead the way, then!"

And just like that, those two idiots vanished into one of the side streets. You had more important things to worry about, however, like how to contact the base and tell them that the pirates had gotten a Marine-issued den den into their hands, or how to actually get free from this damned pipe.

You struggled a bit more, and even a few civilians tried to help, but it was clear that you would have to wait for a blacksmith to get you free, and who knew how long that would take with all the commotion going on right now?

“So your dad is Garp?!” Shanks gawked, eyes wide at the aftermath from the chaos erupted before them, specifically, a brawl between Vice Admiral Garp and their captain, Gol D. Roger.

It wasn’t much of a fight. Fists flew, grunts echoed, and it ended rather abruptly when a small, furious voice rang louder than either of the two legends.

“ I don’t wanna go back yet !!”

There she stood, barely reaching anyone’s shoulder, arms crossed, cheeks puffed with defiance. Garp turned to his daughter, visibly flustered. He was caught off guard by his only daughter’s request. 

The Roger Pirates watched, utterly entertained, as the Marine Hero, the same man feared across the seas, crumbled at the hands of one little girl. His face twisted with frustration, muttering half-baked scoldings, while his eyes shimmered suspiciously.

And when Roger let out a booming laugh, the rest of the crew followed suit.

“ Oi, Garp! Looks like you’ve met your match !” Roger cackled.

“Yeah,” she muttered, propping her chin on her palm, elbow balanced on the edge of the ship’s rail. Her voice was calm, too calm, given what had just come out of her mouth.

Across from her, Buggy let out a shriek so loud it startled nearby seagulls into flight.

“SO IT’S TRUE?!” he howled, his body exploding apart in every direction like fireworks in a panic. His head spun midair, hovering with wild eyes and twitching lips. “No wonder you’re scary, Garp? The Garp that’s always on Captain’s tail?”

She blinked at him, unimpressed. “I guess so,” she said, brushing a stray hair behind her ear with a casual flick.

Buggy’s floating head nearly dropped from the sky.

“C-Crazy, you’re crazy!” he stammered, “That man’s a monster! A living legend! You’re saying that guy is your dad?! So what are you doing on this ship?!”

She leaned back against the rail, gazing out toward the endless stretch of sea. “Hm… Out of all the ships I saw, the red sails looked the most exciting!” 

Her gaze lifted to the sails above, bright red and billowing against the wind, a shimmering glint of admiration.

“It looked way cooler than the other ships.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “I didn’t even realize it belonged to the infamous Gol D. Roger. I just thought it looked like it could take me somewhere I hadn’t been before, super flashy!”

Buggy’s head bobbed midair, the wonder in her voice catching him off guard.

“R-Right, right!” he said, recovering fast and puffing out his chest, well, where his chest would’ve been. “Our captain’s the flashiest of them all! You’ve got good taste!”

“So, why aren’t you going back?” Shanks asked, inching a little closer to her on the deck, curiosity tugging at his features. Up close, he was reminded again just how tall she was, Garp’s blood ran strong, apparently.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon. “It’s fun being pirates.” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smirk. “Why? Want me gone that badly?”

“Yes!”

 “No!”

The two answers clashed in the air instantly.

She didn’t even need to look up, she already knew who said what. Her sharp glare zeroed in on Buggy, whose face had already contorted into an exaggerated grimace.

“But you’re basically a Marine! ” Buggy protests, flailing dramatically as he frantically turns to Shanks. “What if she rats us out?!”

“Oh, shut up, you’re just scared” she snapped, eyes narrowing.

Rayleigh’s voice cut through the tension, calm but pointed. “Did you know your father made it his life’s mission to capture our captain?”

He stepped into the conversation like he’d been listening the whole time, because he probably had. Rayleigh looked at her with just a small amount of curiosity, after he had checked in with his careless Captain who had just fought her father. 

“How do we know you’re not feeding him information behind our backs?” he added, expression unreadable.

“Come on , Rayleigh,” another crew member, Taro, she recalled, interjected with a huff. “If that were true, Garp would’ve been breathing down our necks a long time ago.” He ruffled the girl’s hair. 

“Exactly!” she threw up her hands. “As if I’d let him get information that easily. No way in hell I’d give him the satisfaction.”

Once things settled, the conversation drifted naturally back to the trio, to their familiar corner on the deck of the Oro Jackson. The wind had calmed, but the curiosity between them hadn’t. It wasn’t quite an interrogation, but she could feel the way their eyes lingered on her, wanting to ask more questions. 

Especially now, knowing who her father was, someone even Captain Roger spoke of with an odd mix of exasperation and respect.

“Why don't you wanna be a Marine?” Buggy asked, tilting his head with a finger pressed to his chin. “You’d probably get a high rank right off the bat! You’d be rich!”

She gave him a flat look, the kind only someone used to his antics could muster. “Buggy, that’s called nepotism.”

He shrugged unapologetically. “So?”

“I don’t know…” she sighed, toying with the loose threads on the hem of her shirt. Her voice softened. “I… got onto this ship just for fun, I thought one day I’d just leave and continue my way through my dad.” 

“But?” Buggy tilted his head, intrigued by her answer, her dad is a scary man with scary potential, he needs to know these things. 

“Sailing with you guys is so fun,” She mumbled, her voice had a slight tremble to it as she still didn’t want to look straight in the eyes at the other apprentices. 

“My older brother’s a Marine.” Her thoughts briefly flicked to Dragon, once a loving brother figure to her, now an increasingly distant one. She recalls her childhood where Dragon and her would scavenge through the forests in Dawn Island, waiting for Garp to finally show and do some training. 

“Rarely saw him after, and when I do, he looked like shit!”

“You mean that Dragon guy?” Shanks asked, blinking as if trying to remember something, “I think you mentioned him before.”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “Never home. Even Dad visits more.”

“You sound like a brat throwing a tantrum,” Buggy chimed in again, grinning. “So you do act like a girl sometimes, I thought you’re just a brute.”

She gasped, scandalized. “Excuse you?! ”

“Now, now,” Shanks stepped in quickly, arms between them like a referee. “Let’s not start a war on deck, alright?”

“She started it,” Buggy mumbled under his breath.

“You provoked me!” she shot back, leaning forward with a glare.

“Alright, alright,” Shanks laughed, placing a hand on her head and ruffling her hair. “Let’s take it easy, marine spawn.”

“Hey!” She shot up, clearly offended, a frown scrunching up her face. “I’m a pirate through and through now, okay? I hate Marines.” Her arms crossed over her chest with the full drama of someone thoroughly committed to the bit.

Buggy blinked at her, unimpressed. “So you hate your family?”

“That’s different!” she huffed, turning her nose up. “They don’t count.”

-----

“How ya feeling?” Hongo asked, standing beside the bed with his arms loosely crossed, his expression gentle but observant. He had just finished checking her vitals, carefully, given how frantic Shanks had been when he all but shoved her into his care. It had taken a lot to calm the captain down.

The girl blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling before letting her gaze drift around the room. Clean. Nautical. Slightly chaotic. She didn’t recognize a single thing, except for the man watching her with quiet patience.

“Hongo,” she finally said, her voice dry but teasing, “I see you got your teeth back.”

“Hey,” he replied with a short laugh, clearly not offended. “We can trade barbs when you’re not halfway to the grave. Let’s not make my captain worry more than he already is.”

A pause, then a soft murmur: “I’m on the Red Force, huh?”

“Yeah.” Hongo nodded, but then narrowed his eyes slightly. “If you’re not gonna answer my questions, I’ll go get Shanks.”

“No!” she blurted, sitting up too fast before wincing at the effort. “No, I’ll answer. Just… please. I need to be away from Shanks for a bit. If that’s okay?”

Hongo eyed her, reading more between the lines than she realized. Then, with a small smile, he said, “Can’t reject a lady’s request.”

He pulled a chair closer to her bedside, his tone gentle but firm. “So… what happened?”

She stared down and then she told him. Everything. (or at least stuff that are relevant)

-----

“Hey, Capt.” Hongo greeted as he stepped out of the room, only for Shanks to immediately crowd him, hand still half on the doorframe.

“How is she? Is she okay?” Shanks asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant, he failed miserably. Everyone on the crew knew just how much the girl meant to him. He might’ve tried to act cool about it, but the fact he’d been standing outside the door the entire time, down to the second, said everything.

Hongo sighed, his hands on his waist. “She needs rest. Her health isn’t great. She told me a few things, but… I don’t think it’s the full story. I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle all of it.”

“She’s awake?” Shanks asked, eyes lighting up, completely ignoring the rest of Hongo’s words.

“Yes, she’s awake, but—”

Before Hongo could finish, Shanks had already turned to push the door open, only to be yanked back by Benn Beckman with one hand. It looked comical, like someone dragging back an overexcited cat.

“Whoa there. Listen to the doctor, she needs rest,” Beckman said, calm but firm.

“Ugh, fine,” Shanks groaned, deflating like a sulking kid.

“Never thought I’d live to see Pouting Shanks,” Yassop muttered to Lucky Roux with a smirk.

“We’re gonna be seeing a lot of that,” Roux whispered back, both of them shaking their heads with amusement.

“Hm, I think Limejuice is calling for me,” Shanks blurted out, already half-turning to flee down the front of the deck, clearly hoping no one would question why Limejuice, of all people, would ever need him urgently.

Behind him, several senior officers exchanged knowing smirks, low chuckles echoing through the corridor. Watching their proud captain all but retreat because of a woman? Now that was a sight.

“So,” Benn Beckman called out casually, arms crossed, “What did she actually say, Hongo?”

Yassop and Lucky Roux blinked, then leaned in like kids overhearing gossip for the first time.

Hongo, ever calm, adjusted the strap of his med kit and sighed. “She asked me to keep Shanks out of her room for a while.”

That made the air shift slightly.

“Not sure what happened between them back on that island,” he added, voice just low enough to make it sound important, “but whatever it was… it definitely something .”

The silence that followed was punctuated only by Shanks’ very unsubtle footsteps retreating down the Red Force, faster than any pirate captain should ever be walking.

----

“Now,” a voice called from the doorway, smooth, teasing, yet unmistakably firm. “Why did I hear from my doctor that Ms. Patient in here doesn’t want my presence?”

The air shifted.

She flinched before she could catch herself. That voice, low and careless, threaded with an old warmth that unsettled her more than she'd admit, dug into her chest like a dull blade. She didn’t turn toward him. She didn’t want to.

“Because Ms. Patient ,” she said tightly, her eyes fixed on the wooden planks, “ explicitly does not want your presence. Is that too hard to understand, Red-Hair ?”

Shanks stepped inside anyway, she had been cooped in the room for awhile, but guessing from the silence on deck and the night sky, it was around dawn, she finally saw that familiar smirk was already tugging at his lips, boyish and far too charming for someone so infuriating.

“Yeah,” he said with a mock sigh, “I guess it is. Y’see, I’ve never really had women reject me before.” His voice dipped with amusement, eyes scanning the room before locking onto her still form. “Kind of a new experience.”

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning her head to glance at him, just a little. “Glad I could be your first,” she muttered.

“I’d love for you to be my firsts,” He had jokingly said, but was met up with a glare from the bedridden patient so Shanks immediately deflected, “So,” he said, gaze drifting around before settling back on her. “How’ve you been?”

The silence between them stretched.

“Peachy,” she answered curtly, her voice clipped, eyes already drifting back toward the ceiling as if it could shield her.

Shanks inhaled, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Right. Should’ve expected that.”

There was a flicker in her gaze then. Still, her voice was softer this time. “Luffy missed you.”

Shanks’ face shifted, just slightly. His grin widened at the name being dropped, he thinks of the little guy who had dreams like his former captain, who’s now wearing his hat like a legacy. 

“Missed that little anchor too,” Shanks said with a smile. 

She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The name alone was enough to carve silence between them.

But Shanks pushed forward anyway, taking a cautious step closer, his eyes scanning her face like he was searching for something left unsaid.

“But I asked about you , sweetheart,” he said gently, his voice lower now. No grin. Just rawness.

“Never better,” she bit out, her voice thick with sarcasm as she shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the sting that laced through her ribcage. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Shanks didn’t flinch, but something tightened in his eyes. His arms were still crossed, his stance relaxed—but only on the surface. “I want to hear the truth, at least,” he replied, tone softer now, stripped of that usual teasing lilt.

She stared at him, and then, without warning, glared, sharp, unfiltered, exhausted.

“Well,” she said, dragging the word like a blade, “I feel like shit. My head’s pounding, I can’t feel half my fingers, and I think I might hurl in about two minutes. So if you’re done playing pirate therapist, could you please get me a bucket?”

Shanks blinked once. “Why a bucket,” he said, already walking over to the gaped door with a nonchalant tilt of his head, “when you’ve got a perfectly good sea right outside this room?”

Despite herself, a breathy laugh escaped her lips. 

“Yeah, right,” she muttered, rolling her eyes, “As if I’d dare tarnish your beloved sea.”

He turned back, just in time to catch the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t bitter. Just a flicker of something long buried between them, genuine, if fleeting.

Her words held no venom now, only the dry edge of someone too tired to pretend and too familiar with the person standing before her. It was the kind of banter only shared between people who had once known each other too well and maybe still did.

Shanks leaned against the wooden walls of the room, watching her with a quiet fondness. “My sea’s been through worse,” he said, “It can handle a little heartbreak.”

“How ‘bout you?” she asked suddenly, voice casual but eyes carefully trained on him, like she was daring him to be honest. It caught Shanks off guard, but he recovered with a tilt of his head and a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“How’s the big scary Yonko faring in his beloved sea?”

A laugh erupted from him, loud, familiar, and echoing with that signature Red-Haired charm. It rumbled from his chest, deep and full, and for a fleeting moment, she saw not the infamous Emperor of the Sea, but the boy who once dangled his legs off the Oro Jackson beside her, carefree and bright-eyed.

“This big and scary Yonko,” he said, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye, “was absolutely terrified for a certain patient’s life. Scariest I’ve ever felt, I fear.” His voice dipped with quiet sincerity toward the end, a tremble of truth hidden in the humor.

She held his gaze, her smile softening just slightly before her tone leveled into something more grounded.

“I’m fine, Shanks,” she said, but it was too clean, too rehearsed. Her posture had stiffened, the slight tremor in her fingers betraying the calm she tried to maintain.

He watched her closely, unconvinced. The image of her back on that bloodstained island, crumpled beneath the weight of everything she carried, played on repeat in his mind.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he said, his voice low and earnest, no longer laced with his usual levity.

“I’m not pretending,” she lied.

“Here’s some tangerine, your favorite,” Shanks suddenly said, setting down a small woven basket on the bedside table with a casual air that didn’t quite mask the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. “A bit sour since it’s not in season, but still sweet enough to eat. Don’t worry.”

She blinked at the offering, then at him, eyes narrowing slightly, not in annoyance, but in curiosity. Her fingers reached toward the fruit instinctively, brushing against the coarse skin of one of them. The scent was immediate, bright, citrusy, familiar.

“You have a tangerine tree on your ship now?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, as if trying to place the absurdity of it. Her voice was light, teasing, but her gaze stayed fixed on his face.

Shanks just hummed in response, a noncommittal sound paired with a shrug.

But you don’t like tangerines.

She didn’t say it out loud. It stayed trapped in the back of her throat like so many other things she didn’t allow herself to speak. Shanks never liked tangerines. Too acidic, he used to say. Always gave her some every time the three pirate apprentices scavange through a new island they just docked in. 

“Thanks…” She quietly said as she watched Shanks leave the room.

----

“Look who’s up!” Lucky Roux bellowed from the edge of the deck, waving one thick arm toward the figure emerging from the cabin. A broad grin stretched across his face, and several heads turned in her direction.

“I’m not that sick,” she called back with a small smile, the breeze catching strands of her hair as she stepped fully into view. Sunlight kissed her skin, and for the first time in a while, she didn’t feel like she was suffocating.

“For the lady,” Roux said, presenting her with a skewer of freshly grilled meat, steam still rising from it.

As a Monkey D., she knows better than to reject a peace offering. Especially if it’s meat. She takes the meat with little to know grace, munching on it immediately. 

The crew chuckled, a few raising their mugs in a lazy salute.

“Not pairing my meat with beer? That’s preposterous,” she added with a mock frown, biting into the meat again. It was warm, juicy, something she missed. 

“We’re gonna dock soon,” Lucky Roux said, shifting beside her. “Might take a couple of days.”

She arched her brow. “One of those usual remote islands you lot crash on for rest and reckless drinking? Or something different?”

“Nah, captain said we needed to restock,” Yassop chimed in, puffing lazily on a cigarette. “Supplies, medicine, the works.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she inhaled deeply. The scent of the sea filled her lungs, salt and wind and wood and freedom. The breeze danced over her skin, she closed her eyes briefly, letting it wrap around her.

Being on a pirate ship felt different. It was different.

Even as a Vice Admiral, she never got to experience this, the quiet laughter, the sun-warmed deck beneath her feet, the unspoken bond between people who’ve risked their lives together not for duty, but for choice.

This wasn’t obligation. It was freedom.

And god, how she missed it.

“Now look who’s finally out of their room!” Shanks shouted, his voice booming with playful exaggeration as he strode across the deck. Without hesitation, he slung a heavy arm over her shoulders.

The gesture, so familiar yet distant, made her shoulders tense instinctively. Her balance wavered, just for a moment. She wasn’t as steady on her feet as she thought she’d be, her recovery is growing less and less each day. 

“Shanks,” she murmured, her voice low but not cold. A soft smile ghosted across her lips before she could stop it, brief, fleeting, but real. The man beside her still carried the same spark in his eyes, the same lopsided grin that used to drive her mad. 

“Oh~?” Shanks leaned closer, his red hair brushing her cheek as he tilted his head with mock disbelief. “Was that a smile I just saw? Are you actually happy to see me now? Miracles do happen.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He laughed, loud, unrestrained, like a certain captain they sailed under from back then, Shanks nudged her gently with his elbow. “You wound me. After everything I’ve done for you.”

“Your everything ain’t much if I’m being honest,” She jabbed at red-haired.

“Hey!” 

Choruses of laughter from his crewmates erupted.

----

Roger’s execution wasn’t a celebration, no matter how the world painted it.

The crowds in Loguetown had gathered like it was a festival, eager to see the Pirate King die, their voices loud with awe and hunger for a new era. Some cheered. Some jeered. Some clung to hope for the treasures whispered in dying breaths. But for her, for them, it was mourning in the truest form.

Heavy rain fell like judgment. Cold, sharp, relentless.

She stood in the shadow of the gallows, soaked through, her coat clinging to her frame, fists clenched at her sides. Beside her, Shanks was silent, red hair plastered to his face, lips drawn tight. He had cried, she realized, but now that it was raining heavily, she couldn't quite decipher it as well.

Buggy had just run off, screaming something about Shanks being a fool, his figure vanishing into the storm.

“Buggy rejected you, huh?” she said at last, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the patter of rain. It wasn’t mockery, far from it. Her tone was flat, like she had already expected it.

A beat of silence passed between them, and then Shanks took a hesitant step closer.

“I was gonna wait to ask, but…” He extended his hand, trembling just barely. “The offer’s for you too. Come with me. Let’s be pirates together.”

She looked down at his hand. It was the same hand that had once pulled her up when she stumbled on the deck of the Oro Jackson. The same hand that offered her meat when she hadn’t eaten. The same hand she used to sneakily reach for during storms when she was scared.

Now it was shaking.

Her eyes flicked toward the empty scaffolding, the wooden beams stained with rain—and Roger’s blood.

“Shanks…” she whispered.

“Don’t say no,” he said quickly, almost desperately. “Not after everything.”

She exhaled, slow and shaky. “Sha–”

Shanks interrupted, not wanting her rejection and excuse to be verbalized, “You wanted to, you wan–”

“I’m going to be a Marine,” she cut in, her voice firm, though her lips quivered. “I’ve already decided.”

His hand faltered in the air.

It made sense to her. It was the rational thing to do.

She had just watched a man—no, the man who had changed her life—die at the hands of the system her family served. A system her father upheld. A system her brother once fought for.

A system she had no choice but to return to.

To her, becoming a Marine was the only way to keep what little stability she had left. Garp was a Marine. Dragon was a Marine. Her blood was steeped in justice, in duty, in structure. Her and the naive dream to be able to change it.

But for Shanks?

For Shanks, it was betrayal.

He had just witnessed the World Government and the Marines steal the life of the only man he ever called Captain. He had lost Buggy. He had lost Roger. And now, he was losing her too.

“Decide differently,” Shanks said, the words sharper than he meant them to be. His voice was tight, strained.

She blinked, surprised at the sudden shift in tone.

“You think this is easy for me?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t raised, but it was cold. Steady.

“You think it’s easier for me?” he shot back.

“I have ties in the Marines,” she said, stepping back as if putting physical distance might temper the fire in his chest. “I’m not meant for your kind of freedom, Shanks.”

His hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, why it felt like her words were slicing open old wounds he hadn’t known he still carried.

“You don’t know a thing,” he muttered.

She frowned. “I know enough.”

She didn’t. She didn’t know that Shanks came from a past as stained and fractured as her own. That he wasn’t born free. That Roger saved him from a fate darker than most could imagine. That one day he had to step inside the place of his lineage, as much as he hated it. 

“You’re going to regret it,” Shanks said, not as a threat, not as spite. His voice was low, roughened by rain and grief. There was no smugness in his tone. He wasn’t warning her out of arrogance, he was mourning her before she even left.

She didn’t meet his eyes. If she did, she knew she’d shatter.

Shanks stepped forward, just once, but stopped himself from reaching out. They had touched so many times before, laughs shared under starlight, bruises exchanged during sparring, warmth passed during cold nights at sea.

But now?

Now his hands stayed at his sides. Anchored.

“I know you better than you think,” he murmured, eyes narrowing slightly, pained. “You’d hate yourself.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep it together. One second longer and she’d break.

“Goodbye, Shanks,” she said instead, turning and walking away from the comfort. “See you at sea.”

----

They met again for the first time in years.

----

The bitterness that had once wrapped around their hearts like iron had eroded, softened by time. With distance came clarity. With maturity came yearning, not the painful kind, but the quiet ache that settles in the chest when you realize the person you once pushed away is still part of your soul.

She hadn’t expected to hear her name that way, called out so openly, so joyfully. It echoed across the harbor, cutting through the noise of the port town.

And when she turned, blinking under the sun, there he was. A flash of crimson, a familiar grin, a mop of unmistakable red hair. Shanks.

“Shanks??” Her voice pitched up with disbelief and delight, her smile radiant, blooming like spring after a long winter.

Before she could say more, he was already there, arms around her, spinning her off the ground in a hug that pulled the breath out of her lungs and replaced it with laughter. She clung to him without hesitation, surprised by how natural it still felt.

“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly, once her feet found the earth again.

Shanks, still holding her elbows, looked at her with stars in his eyes—his grin boyish, just slightly crooked. “Docked here for some supplies,” he said, brushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, “but rumor had it there was a very charming and dangerously competent captain in the area.”

She snorted. “Who would that be?”

“I wonder who?” he said with a lopsided grin as they stood there for a moment longer than they should’ve, in the middle of a bustling dock, hearts caught somewhere between nostalgia and something dangerously close to hope.

“Huh,” Yassop muttered, eyes narrowing as he watched the woman who had been lingering near their captain ever since they docked. His arms crossed over his chest, an unreadable expression painted across his face. “You don’t look like the Captain’s type.”

She turned toward him, a brow arching. “Your captain has a type ?”

“N—” Limejuice tried to interject, perhaps to soften the blow, but Yassop barreled right over him.

“Petite,” Yassop began, counting on his fingers with theatrical flair. “Cute. Small. Maybe even a little helpless. You know, that damsel in distress effect.”

Each word stabbed just a bit sharper than the last.

She blinked. Her lips parted slightly, caught between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh…” she exhaled, her mouth agape just enough to hide how that landed, deep and uncomfortable. Convenient , she thought. That’s… everything she wasn’t.

Too tall. Too harsh. Too stubborn. Just gr—

“What are you guys talking about?” Shanks asked, flashing his usual boyish grin as he approached the small gathering.

“Nothing!” Yassop and Limejuice chimed in unison, a little too quickly. The woman beside them merely smiled with quiet amusement, clearly enjoying their flustered state. For all his carefree charm, it was easy to forget how much Shanks was respected by his crew, despite his young age. But now that they’d reunited, she could see how much he’d grown. 

“Really?” Shanks tilted his head, raising a brow in suspicion.

Before the others could dig themselves into a deeper hole, she casually looped her arm around his and leaned into him with a playful bump of her shoulder. “Exactly that. Nothing.”

Shanks glanced down at her, teasing warmth in his voice. “You’re getting awfully chummy. How would the world react, seeing their beloved Marine Captain arm in arm with a pirate like me?”

“They’ll live,” she quipped, her tone light but steady. “Besides, it’s not like you’re pillaging this island, right? Normal people know you don’t do that. I think.”

Shanks let out a laugh, light and windblown, “You think, huh? You sure you’re not ruining that pristine Marine record of yours by hanging around me?”

“Oh come on, your being noisy," She rolled her eyes , "let’s go and eat something. There’s this nice place that sells lobster, you still like that, right?” she said casually, though her eyes flickered with something softer, nostalgic.

Shanks’s face lit up like the sun hitting open waters. “I could never reject a woman’s offer to eat lobster,” he grinned, already falling into step beside her.

The streets of the island were warm and busy, dotted with cheerful chatter and the occasional cry of seagulls. They didn’t talk much as they walked, comfortable silence now filled the space between them.

When they reached the restaurant, Shanks looked around in delight, already imagining a seat by the window, B ut she surprised him. “To-go, please,” she told the vendor instead, then turned to Shanks. “We’re having a picnic.”

“A picnic?” Shanks raised a brow but didn’t protest, already intrigued.

“There’s a spot nearby, by the cliffs. I sit there when I needed to clear my head.” Her voice lowered, just slightly.

He smiled, following without another word.

As they found the perfect place overlooking the ocean, she spread the food between them on the grass, the red of the lobster almost glowing under the sun.

“If this keeps going, my crew’s gonna start calling me a neglectful captain,” Shanks teased, taking a generous bite and groaning with exaggerated delight.

“It’s been years since we ate together like this,” she said, smiling as she picked at her lobster with delicate precision. “They’ll live.”

Shanks let out a hearty laugh, the same laugh she remembered from what felt like a lifetime ago. “You really look like a reliable captain now,” she teasingly said out of the blue, taking a big bite of his own.

"While you still eat like an animal,” He said back, watching her with a playful smirk.

For a moment, the world around them faded, no Yonko, no Marines, no war or duty or time. Just them, sitting cross-legged on a faded cloth under the shade of an old tree, salt on their lips and sea breeze in their hair.

They talked like no time had passed. Jokes about Buggy’s tantrums. Memories of Roger yelling at them to “hold on tighter” during storms. The nights spent huddled beneath the stars, whispering dreams and dumb ideas to each other.

Shanks was the same. Older, yes. Stronger, yes. But his spirit? Still that scrappy, sharp-eyed boy, S he caught herself watching him too long, too softly. The way the light hit his hair, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way he still made her laugh without trying.

And then she felt it, that tug in her chest, that familiar ache.

She had promised herself she wouldn’t do this. Not again. But sitting here, with him, the years peeled away like they never existed.

She can’t help but fall in love with him all over again. 

----

That’s why, after a few weeks of The Red-Haired Pirates docking in this quaint island, she had decided to do something quite reckless.

She had kissed him, and he could only look at her with widened eyes. She was hoping for warmth, a laugh, a grin, maybe even the rare sight of the infamous Red-Haired Captain flustered.

But what she got was silence. His fingers rose, gently brushing against his lips, as if trying to hold onto something already fading.

“I can’t,” Shanks murmured, barely above the sound of the sea between them.

Her heart dropped.

Her love was answered with an I can’t . With rejection.

She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting salt that wasn’t from the ocean.

She thought of the nights wrapped in the same blanket, their knees touching beneath a shared silence. The soft laughter. The reckless teasing. The vulnerable conversations under the stars, whether it was yesterday or ten years ago, it all remained etched in her, stubborn and beautiful.

She had believed that maybe, maybe, some part of him held onto it too.

But now, with a kiss she never meant to be a goodbye, she knew, this moment would shift everything.

And that was the last moment they had with each other.

She knew then, as his laughter from his ship faded into the night and the scent of salt clung to his cloak, that she had never stood a chance. Not truly. Not against the pull of the horizon, not against the freedom in his veins.

He belonged to the sea.

And the sea never shared.

----

“Men!” Shanks called out, voice cracking ever so slightly as he raised a half-filled mug toward the sky. His usual grin was replaced by something softer.

“Let’s drink!”

----

Years later, when they meet again, it will be beneath the sun that shines over hometown, and standing beside her will be a wide-eyed, grinning rascal, pestering Shanks with unrelenting energy, who will soon inherit the will that’s the Straw Hat.

----

“Shanks…” Hongo’s voice came out low, hesitant, as he stood just outside her door. He couldn’t meet his captain’s gaze—how could he, with the weight of the news sitting like lead on his tongue? “I’m sorry.”

Shanks turned to him, smiling out of habit, though something uneasy tugged at the edges of his chest. “What is it, Hongo?”

The ship doctor hesitated for just a moment longer before the words dropped, heavy and final.

“She only has a few months left to live.”

The smile on Shanks’ face faltered, no, shattered. One word slipped from his lips, barely audible over the crashing waves beyond the deck.

“…What?”

----

“You knew?” Shanks’ voice was low, but there was something sharp in it, something that cracked beneath the surface. His eyes, usually warm with mischief or mirth, had gone cold. Focused. Piercing.

She didn’t flinch.

“Yes, I knew.” Her voice cut back with equal weight, though not as steady. “And I knew the real reason you kept docking on islands with no real trade value.” Her hand dragged down her face, wearied more by the conversation than her illness. “You weren’t looking for food or supplies. You were looking for a cure.”

Shanks stared at her, the silence stretching between them like a taut rope. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hongo’s your senior officer,” she replied flatly. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to hear it from him?”

“You don’t believe that,” Shanks said. “Do you?” Shanks would much rather listen in on the person with said illness, the same person he had cared for as well. 

She didn’t respond, and in her silence, Shanks sighed, long and tired, the sound of a man who’s been fighting something he can’t punch away.

His voice dropped. “So… you knew from the beginning. That’s why you asked me, isn’t it?”

Her eyes flickered, the briefest trembling in her fingers before she folded them into her sleeves. “I said what I said and I’m not going to take it back,” she murmured, “because I trust you more than anyone in this world.”

She looked at him then, not fragile, not even afraid, but unguarded.

“I can’t rely on anyone else to do it right.”

“You’re a cruel lady,” Shanks said, and though his voice held a teasing lilt, it faltered at the edges. There was a bitter smile on his face, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, because deep down, he knew: he couldn’t win with her. Not in this. Not ever.

She let out a lifeless chuckle, dry and hollow, despite wanting to ease the tension. “If only you knew what they call me in the Marines.”

“I don’t need to know,” he replied, softer now, searching her face for something, anything, beneath the cracks. “cause I know what you are.”

“Oh?” she raised a brow, dragging her gaze up to meet his. “And what am I, Red Hair?”

Shanks hesitated. The truth itched at the back of his throat.

“You’re someone who carries the world on her back, smiles like it’s light, and dares anyone to notice the weight.” He exhaled slowly, his words sincere. “A reckless woman indeed.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. But it passed quickly.

“That’s funny,” she murmured. “Because when I look at you, I see a man who sailed the seas to outrun the things he couldn’t fix. We’re not so different, you and I.”

Shanks looked away for a moment, jaw clenched, tongue caught behind words he wanted to say. That’s not true, if you knew what I’ve been doing these past few years…

“But you still asked me,” he said quietly, unsaid words remain unsaid. 

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t have to.

“You know I love you, right?” Shanks whispered, as if the words themselves might crumble under their own weight. His voice was quiet, almost too quiet, like he was afraid of what the sentence might become once spoken. 

She didn’t answer at first.

Brows furrowed, she blinked slowly, as if trying to decipher whether she had truly heard him right. She thought she had misheard the man she had known since childhood. 

Then after a few pauses, she answers, her hands clenched onto the bedding, glaring at the man, not believing a word that had left his lips. 

“No,” she said, curt and steady. “I don’t.”

Shanks blinked, surprised by the bluntness of it. He wasn’t expecting that type of answer.

“You don’t get to say that to me,” she continued, her voice cold under the silver gleam of moonlight. “Don’t you dare ever say you love me.”

Her words hit like a blade, it started blunt, yet it got sharper the more she says and she didn’t stop.

“Love is unconditional. Love is warm,” she said, jabbing a finger into her own chest. “You want to talk about love?”

Her voice cracked, just slightly.

“I’m afraid to die, no because of the pain, or what hell or judgement I’d face, but because I want to see Luffy become Pirate King. I want to see Ace carve his name into the world leaving his own legacy. I want to see the day my brother and my father finally reunite.”

She got out of bed, stepping forward towards where Shanks is, and now her finger pressed hard into his chest.

“They left me. Over and over. And still, I wait. Like some loyal fucking dog.” She took a shaky breath. “That’s love.”

Her hand fell back to her side, clenched into a trembling fist.

“That’s fucking love, Red-Haired.”

Shanks stood there, silent. Taking it. Letting her speak, letting her bleed it out, because he knew he had no right to interrupt.

“And you?” she laughed bitterly. “You brought me nothing but confusion. Silence. Half-truths. Heartbreak.”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes wet but blazing.

“So don’t you dare tell me you love me now, when you couldn’t even give me the dignity of closure.”

She turned her back slightly, her voice growing smaller, but no less furious.

Shanks tried to reach for her arm, her name softly leaving his lips, but she continued.

“You’ve always loved the sea more than me. And that’s fine. I made peace with that a long time ago.” She laughed, 'cause what can she do? The man she had painfully pined over the years and in the end rejected her, says that he loves her, when she was running on limited time.

“What I can’t forgive,” A pause, “what I’ll never accept is you standing there with those sad fucking eyes, telling me you love me... like it makes things better between us.”

Shanks didn’t say anything for a long time.

The night wind moved around them through the open door. brushing past her like an apology, rustling the red hair that earned him his name, now shadowed by guilt.

He stepped forward once.

Then stopped.

His hands clenched at his sides, not out of anger, but restraint, because the part of him that wanted to reach out, to hold her, to pull her close and say I’m sorry , was still the same part that had left her all those years ago.

"I don’t expect you to forgive me," Shanks said at last, his voice low, honest in a way that felt almost cruel.

She didn’t turn to face him. Her shoulders remained rigid, like the tension alone was holding her together.

"And I won’t insult you by asking for it."

Silence. But her breathing wasn’t steady anymore.

“I meant what I said,” he continued, each word heavier than the last. “My love for you… it was consuming.”

She furrowed her brows, a bitter scoff caught in her throat. Another excuse. Another romanticized lie.

“What I wanted was to live a quiet pirate life, just the three of us,” Shanks started out, a smile etched on his face as he thought back the memories they had in the Oro Jackson, the happiest moments of his life. 

“But then there were times I imagined something else. A quiet life. You and me. A farm, maybe. A family.” He shook his head, bitter at the dream. “And that's what terrified me.”

Her silence stung. So he kept going, the only way he knew how, forward, even if the ground was falling apart beneath him.

“I’m a pirate. The sea calls for me. But you—” Shanks looked at her, really looked at her— “You were like my anchor. You pulled me in, even when I didn’t want to be caught.”

She turned her head slowly, just enough to glance at him from the corner of her eye. “I was your anchor? So I was the weight? The thing that held you back from chasing your grand adventure?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

But she wasn’t convinced. Her fingers twitched at her sides, trembling from holding back too much for too long.

Shanks stepped forward, his voice quieter now. “You were my freedom too. I just didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

That’s when she turned fully. Her gaze met his, glassy but sharp.

“Do you think that makes it easier?” she asked, voice frayed at the edges. “Hearing that now?”

“No,” he whispered. “But you deserve the truth. Even if it’s a thousand years late.” Eyes yearning for a future they never get to live in.

The wind picked up slightly, pushing the salty air against her cheeks, but it did nothing to cool the fire inside her chest. She hadn’t meant to say any of it, not to Shanks, but the words came tumbling out before she could stop them. She didn’t want his pity, she never did, but it felt like the weight of everything was finally collapsing on her.

“I lived a life where everyone I love left me,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words made them more real. 

“My mom, my dad,” She pressed her hands to her forehead, shielding her eyes from Shanks, the tears falling freely now, “My brother.”

Shanks didn’t move. He didn’t speak, but his eyes never left her, his presence quiet and steady.

“I gave up my freedom for Garp and Luffy,” she choked out, her breath hitching. “I stuck with Luffy because... because I grew up alone, and I didn’t want that for him. His dad... my brother left to do something greater, something important.” Her voice broke on the last word, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop.

“I wanted to do the same,” she continued, her chest tightening, her grip on her hair becoming more desperate. “But I just can’t leave Luffy alone.” She shut her eyes, biting her lip so hard that it almost hurt, willing herself to stop the flood of emotions. She didn’t want him to see her this way. She didn’t want to break down in front of him.

But he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Then he found himself his own family,” she continued, her words bitter with the sting of truth. “And he’s leaving, too, to be a pirate. And in the end... I’m the idiot who’s left behind, waiting for everyone to come back. I’m the one who stays, Shanks. I’m the one who stays .”

Her breath was ragged now, tears still falling, though she no longer cared.

Shanks didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He simply moved closer, his large presence both grounding and comforting.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough, his words quiet, but firm. “You’re not waiting. You’re living. You’ve been living, fighting for those you love, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

Her head snapped up, surprise flickering in her eyes, but Shanks didn’t meet her gaze. 

“I never wanted to leave you behind,” he murmured, “I never wanted to make you feel like that. But the sea... the sea calls, and we have our paths. We all have our own journeys. But that doesn’t mean you’re not important. You’re more than just someone left waiting. You’ve taken a piece of my heart with you, whether you believe it or not.”

“I don’t,” she whispered softly, “I don’t believe it.”

For a moment, the two stood there, locked in the silence of everything they were and everything they could never be.

----

“Boss?” Lucky Roux called, stepping toward Shanks the moment the red-haired captain emerged from the room she’s staying in. The sea breeze tugged at his coat, but Shanks didn’t seem to feel it.

Shanks stood still for a beat, his eyes dark beneath the shadow of his hat. His jaw was clenched, his usual grin nowhere to be found.

“Find a remote island,” he said, voice low and cold— resigned. “We’re doing this.”

A beat of silence.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” his crew echoed, voices steady but weighed with unspoken understanding.

----

Her fingers trembled by her sides, but her eyes, her eyes were still. Steady. They gleamed under the soft light with a clarity Shanks hadn’t seen in her for a long time: resolve, and something heavier, something final. He hated that look. It meant her decision had already been made. She wasn’t waiting for him to change it, just to accept it. Still, Shanks looked at her as if the weight in his chest might lift if he could just say it, if he could finally admit what he’d never been brave enough to before.

“I love you,” he said, quieter this time. No grin, no teasing lilt, just the truth. Raw and bare, stripped of everything he usually used to protect himself. It was the only thing he had left to give her.

There was a pause. A silence so thin it could’ve split open if one of them so much as breathed wrong.

“Yeah,” she said, voice soft, a smile tugging at her lips like it had been stitched there with thread too weak to hold. “I love you, Shanks.”

But she didn’t say 'too.'

And that absence meant everything.

Not because the words weren’t true. They were more than anything else she’d ever said. But because acknowledging it, admitting it fully, would’ve broken her. Would’ve tied her down to something she could no longer afford to chase.

She believed he said it to make her feel better. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. It didn’t matter.

Because in the end, this was it for her. 

He felt it, every trembling breath she took, every flicker of pain she tried to bury beneath that ever-steady gaze. It took everything in her just to stand, to speak, to let him see her like this: fragile, fading, but still proud. She never begged. Never cowered. Even now, at the end of everything, she clung to the last remnants of who she was. That was her final act of defiance.

“I’m asking you to set me free,” she said, cutting through the silence, her voice steady, almost gentle. “Before it gets to me. Before I forget who I am.”

Shanks’s hand curled into a fist. His jaw tightened so hard it ached. “Change your mind,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Don’t ask me for this.”

But she only looked at him, unwavering. “I made up my mind, I trust you, Figarland Shanks.”

Tears shimmered in his eyes, refusing to fall, not yet. Not until she meets her peace. 

“Make it fast?” she asked, and this time her voice wavered.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice breaking around the edges, but still he meant it. With every aching bone in his body, he meant it.

She closed her eyes.

And then, with the quiet grace of a man who had carried the sea in his chest, Shanks drew his blade, not with anger, not with grief, but with reverence, as if he were not ending a life.

She waited for it, waited for the sharp, clean edge of mercy. But instead, he stepped forward. Gently, without a word, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

It shattered her.

The intimacy, so simple, so tender, caught her off guard. Especially after everything that had passed between them in their last encounter: the distance, the denial, the years filled with unspoken longing. The affection she had buried deep in her ribs, pined for in silence, was suddenly returned. But at what cost?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice low, raw.

Her tears came in torrents, freely now, spilling down her cheeks as she managed a breathless, “I know.”

Then—

The blade slid through her heart like a whisper.

No sound. No resistance.

Only the wind remained.

And when it passed, she was gone.

Shanks stood there, unmoving, holding her close even as the warmth slipped from her limbs. For a long time, he said nothing. Did nothing. The sea was quiet, almost reverent, mourning with him in stillness.

And then, he wept.

Not loud. Not wild. Just a single tear, slipping down a face that had braved storms and gods.

Even the sea could not carry this loss.

----

“Men!” Shanks called out, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he raised a half-filled mug toward the sky. His usual grin, wide and reckless, was replaced by something more hollow, 

He could not hide his sorrow, not tonight. Despite the cheery lilt in his tone, his cheeks were stained with tears, carved by grief like rivers over weathered stone. 

“Let’s drink!” he declared, loud and bright, as if the sheer force of his voice could drown out the ache swelling in his chest.

“To her,” he said, quietly this time, to himself, voice nearly lost to the wind,

You weren’t allowed to engage this crew and you knew it. Direct confrontation with an Emperor required very specific permissions that you did not currently have, despite your high rank. But you were no coward, and you would not flee from this ill-fated encounter. Not when you carried the emblem of justice itself on your back.

The deck was silent but buzzing with adrenaline and nerves, and you couldn’t blame your troops. Storm after raging storm had assaulted and steered your ship off course and too close to Whitebeard’s territories, and it seemed the most intense of the sea’s wrath was yet to be weathered. Your subordinates had attempted to convince you to turn around, but your stern and confident refusal had been enough to silence them.

You did your best to quiet your mind as the massive Moby Dick sailed closer, thinking of Garp’s raucous laughter and the angry lecture you would undoubtedly get from Sengoku. You grinned and your glare hardened. That old man would have no grounds to reprimand you too harshly once you brought these pirates to justice.

Damn them for haunting the seas, and damn the winds for being so unforgiving. You weren’t supposed to be there, minutes away from canon-range of a bloody Emperor’s fleet, but the Grand Line had decided otherwise, and it was your duty as Vice-Admiral to bring these pirates down. You could do this.

The painted white sails of the Moby Dick drew near and you squared your shoulders. A streak of blue fire erupted from the ship and you quirked an eyebrow, confused. A flare? A signal to other ships? When the flames did not die out but instead shifted and flew straight at you, you braced yourself with a scowl on your face. If these pirates were foolish enough to think only one of their commanders would be sufficient to defeat you, you’d make them pay for it.

Your haki coats your drawn sword but the expected attack never comes. Instead, once he is within voice range, the arrogant bird-bastard yells at you, a smirk clear in his voice.

“Lost at sea, little Marines?!”

Your troops shift restlessly, their useless guns and rifles pointed at the flying man. You weren’t initially supposed to be in these waters, but no, you weren’t lost. You’d been taken here by forces outside of your control, and if fate had decided you would be the one to bring this crew down, then you would prove fate right.

“Do you intend to make this easy and take us on one by one, Marco the Phoenix?!” you shout back, matching his smug tone.

He cackles and circles the length of your warship, and you have half a mind to pull your sea-stone loaded gun and shoot him down.

“Just giving a stranded ship a chance to turn around! There’s been bad weather lately, no need to massacre you all because of shitty winds!”

His feigned pity offends you greatly, far more than any insult could.

“We are precisely where we are meant to be! Prepare to meet your fate, pirate!!”

Your determination and pointed blade make him laugh, but send him flying back all the same.

“Fucking bird,” you spit under your breath, making your officers laugh. “Ready yourselves!” you shout at your men. “These are pirates like any others, and they’ll be brought to justice like all others!”

The canons are readied but it doesn’t seem your opponents are eager to use theirs yet, their ship still facing you and tearing forward. Perfect. You love a proper fight, steel to steel, muscle to muscle, and you’ll let your crew maneuver the warship once you’ve engaged the pirates in actual combat. Once bullets, swords, and canons are raining on this crew, they will see who is in a position to offer mercy…

Once both ships are close enough, you’re the first one to charge, as is your duty and privilege, and battle frenzy takes over the crews quickly. If these pirates were expecting an easy fight, they’re about to severely let down. You run a tight training regimen, and you’re always proud to show off your crew’s strength and prowess. You didn’t make it as Vice Admiral off some cursed fruit’s borrowed powers, you trained and fought and used every single asset at your disposal to rise in the ranks.

Precision, speed, tactics, intelligence, haki, ship-wrecking strength… You excel at it all, and expect your men to thrive for the same success as you. Which is why, when you find yourself on the deck of the Moby Dick, with your troops at your back, you’re beaming with pride at the pirates’ surprise. If you had been more focused on their captain’s reaction, perhaps your strategies would have shifted.

Whitebeard’s initial bored gaze had shifted into one of interest, and now he was laughing loudly, like a man eager for a good show rather than inconvenienced by a waste of time. But you were too focused on your advance to notice any of that.

Instinct and training dance together perfectly as you strike down opponent after opponent, certain this initial momentum will carry. You had been brought here by the seas, this was your destiny, you were confident in your strength, in your crew’s strength…

Your sword is suddenly stopped by someone you can tell has enough power to be a challenge, and you look up to gauge your enemy only to freeze, your smile wiped off your face as everything halts around you.

The shift within you resets your heartbeat, your breathing, adjusts your stance, your spine, every fiber of muscle straining as you push back against his blades. A deluge of anxiety and happiness and cold dread swells in your chest. There’s no way… This can’t be it, fate can’t be that cruel…

But there’s no doubt about it, no question or hesitation. Your opponent, the commander that parried your blow, your enemy, Flower Sword Vista.. is your soulmate.

His sharp grey eyes are wide with shock, bewilderment as evident on his tan face as it must be on yours. But his surprise is short-lived, and he reacts far quicker than you, pushing against your sword and sending you flying back into his ship’s railing. The pain in your shoulder helps ground you and you stand again, ready for your next engagement, doing your absolute best to overcome the horror of the situation. Your heart’s elation is fighting against your mind’s despair, and your body is already showing signs of that, your hands trembling in ways they haven’t since your youth.

The commander facing you stays still, seemingly waiting for your reaction, no trace of mockery on his face, no joy or disgust or anything else you can read. The tension within you is unbearable and so you decide to do the only thing you can always rely on and charge at him again, gripping your sword even tighter.

♡ * ♡

“I don’t doubt you, son. But if this is really your soulmate, what will you do?”

Whitebeard’s voice is quieter than usual as his crew cleans up the Moby’s deck, the ship sailing away from the smoking wreck of the Marine warship. It’s still in good enough shape to sail out of their waters, and there are enough survivors to man it properly, even though they’ll be leaving without their captain, who they presume is dead.

Vista doesn’t answer immediately, his thumb idly gliding over his sword’s guard as he ponders the best course of action. He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go down to the cell you’ve been locked in, help you wake up, and appease and befriend you. He wants to know your name, wants to praise your swordsmanship, to make sure you’re patched up and neither hungry nor thirsty. He wants to do what a soulmate should do and care for you. Soothe that horrible conflict he felt in you…

But alas, he thinks with a deep sigh, you consider him an enemy, and you pose a credible enough threat to his crew that he has to be distrustful of you. What an unfortunate situation.

“It’s best to keep her… secured, for now… Keep her safe, keep the crew safe… I will try to get to know her, if she allows…”

It’s obvious he’s conflicted and the captain sighs.

“Give it time, son. The sea doesn’t make mistakes.”

With a reassuring pat to Vista’s shoulder, Whitebeard sends him off and returns his attention to whatever repairs are needed, making sure everyone is accounted for and in the med bay if they’re wounded.

Vista tries to tell himself there’s no point in going to find you now, but he can’t help it. He needs to see you, to be close to you… Your bond is tugging at him already, as strong as he was told it would be, and it almost hurts to be away from your so soon after finding you.

On his way below deck, he internally regrets that you’re a Marine and not a civilian or at least another pirate, but even with all the disadvantages of the situation, he can’t lament for too long. The joy of finding you overwhelms all other emotions, and he is filled with pride and excitement at the fighting prowess you displayed. His soulmate is a swordswoman, skilled enough to be a Vice Admiral, to hold her own against the forces of an Emperor’s fleet… He’s grinning from ear to ear when he finally makes it to your cell, and all he wants is to unlock that door and hold you tight.

Your suspicious glare is enough to tame his impulse, even though he’s very happy to find you awake.

“You’re conscious!” he starts warmly, keeping his stance as relaxed as he can. “I was worried your injuries would keep you down longer.”

“It’ll take more than that to incapacitate me,” you spit.

That only makes Vista happier. You’re skilled and resilient… truly perfect.

“That’s a relief.”

You seem conflicted by that, and Vista empathizes with you. It must be hard to find a way to navigate this, with a world-view and conduct code as rigid as yours…

“I’m only here to watch over you,” the commander says calmly, hoping his honest smile will appease you. “No harm will come to you here. Not from me.”

When your arms wrap around your body and your hardened glare softens with uncertainty, the compulsion to reassure you and embrace you is almost strong enough to get Vista to unlock the door. He can feel your fear through the tentative bond you share, can tell how confused you are, and he can’t blame you. It’s one hell of a situation to be in.

You scoff and Vista’s eyes widen.

“You heard that?”

“I- It- Your thoughts are loud.”

It’s his turn to scoff, amazement clear on his face. Your bond is falling into place quickly, probably thanks to the exhilarating duel you just shared.

“What now?” you ask unsteadily, eyeing Vista with suspicion and calling him back to the present.

“Now? Well, you heal, and then…”

The commander sighs heavily and sits on the bench in front of your cell.

“Ideally, I would like to get to know you. Show you the ship, introduce you to my brothers… Deepen our connection, and maybe… spar with you again,” he finishes with a shy smile.

“You’re joking,” you spit.

“No. I know reality will be more difficult to navigate, but this is what I want.”

“I’m a Marine!” you yell then, incensed by his nonchalance. “A Vice Admiral!”

“It shows. You’re a remarkable swordswoman.”

“You- you’re a pirate! An enemy!”

Vista’s smile is a little sadder when you say that, and he sighs at the angry determination he can feel in your heart. Can’t you tell how badly he wants this to work? How eager he is to deepen your connection?

“I won’t hurt you, you’re safe here. No matter how hard that is to believe. You’re my soulmate, and no one on this ship will harm you. Or let harm come to you.”

He almost wants to laugh at your complete confusion.

“Don’t treat me like I’m harmless!” you shout, standing up despite the wound on your thigh. “I may have been defeated once but I won’t let you humiliate me! You- you…”

Your voice loses its heat when you notice Vista’s dopey smile and the proud affection pouring from his heart. He’s not scared of you at all, he’s… he’s smitten by you.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!!” you scream angrily, startling Vista out of his distracted daydream.

It hurts to hear these words, deeply, but it’s understandable. He was hoping you would be more open to pushing your differences aside, but it seems he’s more of a romantic than you. Vista stands up and promises he’ll come back with food and water, and will try to make you as comfortable as possible, before giving you the peace you undoubtedly need to process the situation.

He hopes, against reason, that you’ll let your bond win and will embrace and accept him once you’ve had enough time to face that you are his soulmate, and that he will not let you go so easily.

♡ * ♡

It doesn’t take nearly as long as you wanted it to, despite your stubborn efforts. Every night is a struggle of pain and longing, your suffering only eased in the morning when Vista comes to bring you breakfast. You know with certainty that he’s suffering even more than you are, since he’s not fighting the bond and is instead eager to connect with you. But he doesn’t force anything, stays patient, and only ever speaks to you kindly.

You’ve never been so confused before, torn between what you spent so many years believing and upholding, and the reality in front of you. Vista tried to make it easier for you, by explaining that their crew is different, that you’re not wrong about most pirates being brutish and vulgar and wild, but that doesn’t help you at all. If this crew is different, if your soulmate is different, then… then you have even less reasons to fight this bond and make an escape.

“Please don’t try that,” he’d whispered when you mulled those thoughts over. “I don’t want to have to fight you like that. It would hurt too much.”

It would be agonizing. Even for you. And even if you did escape and made it back to Marine Ford… what would await you there?

Not wanting to face those questions just yet but suffocating in your little cell, you decide to take Vista up on his offer and meet the rest of the crew, if only to gather more information and formulate a better plan for… whatever it is you would end up doing.

At the end of the day you’re even more conflicted than you were in the morning. Vista was right, they’re different. They got a room ready for you to keep you out of the cells and make you feel more comfortable. The chef was eager to know what you thought of his food. There were no comments about you being a Marine, only a few jokes about the fact that you looked better in casual clothes.

“This is absurd,” you whisper to yourself.

“Nope,” the youngest one, a hot-headed jokester called Ace, replies. “It’s the Grand Line! This kind of thing happens all the time!”

“How can you be so casual about this?” you hiss, refusing to face him.

“Well, it’s fated, right? Nothing we can do against fate! And you’re not all bad!”

“I’m a Marine-”

“Vice Admiral, yeah! We don’t care. You’re the one for Vista, and that’s all that matters!”

“I’m an enemy, you shouldn’t treat me like this!”

“You’re not an enemy, come on. Don’t soulmates mean anything to the Marines?”

You ponder his question under the sharp gaze of another commander seated at your table in the mess hall.

“My superiors don’t bother themselves with such trivial matters,” you answer as confidently as you can, ignoring the anxious beating of your heart.

The other commander scoffs, cigar smoke billowing thickly around his head.

“Trivial… Don’t the Marines have any soul?”

“Hey, Fossa,” Ace reprimands discreetly, “easy.”

Ignoring his admonition, Fossa asks another simple question, his tone even.

“If the roles were reversed, how would your beloved superiors react?”

Your proud smile fades. Sensing your emotional turmoil, Vista crosses the room quickly, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

“If Vista was on your warship instead of you being here, what would happen, girlie?”

For a moment, you simply blink and stay silent, not meeting the older commander’s eyes. What would happened, if… if Vista had been captured… If you were still with the Marines…

In the face of your silence, Fossa simply hums and takes another drag of his cigar, then stands up and pats your back on his way out of the almost empty mess hall.

“Think about that, girlie. Think about that real hard.”

When Vista tries to reach out to you, you stutter and stand up and excuse yourself before leaving as well, to find some peace on the main deck.

What would happen… You know what would happen. You don’t even have to think about it. It’s still ingrained in your mind, the penal code and the rules and the laws and the procedures as clear in your memory as if you’d just read them. Vista would be sent straight to Impel Down to await execution. No trial. No questions.

And no amount of pleading or begging would change any of that. Worst, you’d be expected to attend his death, as the officer responsible for his capture. Perhaps Sengoku would show clemency there, some understanding that this was your soulmate and you couldn’t be expected to watch him die. But that would be it. If you protested too much, if you tried to argue that he could be spared… you would be suspected of treason and tried and sentenced as well.

Your breath shortened when you remembered that you didn’t need to speculate. You’d seen it before. You’d heard the hopeless voice of a Marine who was unfortunate enough to find his soulmate days before the man was hanged. You were only a young cadet at the time, clueless and eager to prove yourself, and you hadn’t fully understood what you were overhearing.

You did now.

It would be you, in Sengoku’s office, desperate to convince him that Vista could be rehabilitated, could be spared, could be somehow changed and trusted and didn’t need to die. It would be you whose broken wails echoed in the barracks. It would be you whose name the cadets whispered as they cleaned your room once your body was dragged out to be buried in an unmarked grave, far from your soulmate’s.

The wind shifted and you realized you were crying, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks and cooled by the night’s air. Your breath was short and you felt dizzy, your mind reeling from the implications of your trail of thought. You’d always believed the Marines were perfect, righteous, just, good… You’d given your blood and sweat to what you considered was your family, and yet…

When you stumbled, your gasps so shallow you risked fainting, large warm hands were there to steady you and hold you up, your soulmate’s strong chest shielding you from the wind.

“It’s alright, my flower,” Vista rumbles, “I’ve got you. Don’t worry about such details, it’s not worth-”

“Details?” you hiss.

You clutch his arms and twist your body to face him, wide eyes crazed with helpless anger.

“You think I don’t know what they would do, if they had you?”

“They don’t have me-”

“But if they did! You- your crew, your captain, you’ve never cared that I- that I’m a Marine, a Vice Admiral, an enemy, it’s never mattered to any of you!”

“Of course not, we don’t hold your path against you-”

“But they would! You’d be sent to die, no matter what I said, and-”

Vista shushes you and doesn’t hesitate to hold you tightly to his chest, wrapping you up in his arms and cape and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“I can feel your anguish, little flower,” he murmurs in your hair. “There’s no need for it. We’re quite safe here, I promise you that.”

After a deep breath, your fingers still trembling against him, you clench your jaw and push away from him. He lets you go easily, but you can tell how much it pains him to, and that upsets you even more.

“Do you have any idea what I’m going through right now?!”

Vista tries to talk but you cut him off angrily.

“My entire world is falling apart! And there’s nothing I can hold onto to make it stop! You’re not supposed to be- to be kind, to be understanding, to- to care for me!! You’re my enemy! You’re not supposed to be my soulmate!!”

That breaks his heart and you can feel it, even through the storm of anger and fear ravaging you. But Vista doesn’t leave, doesn’t shout back, doesn’t pull away from you. He simply stands in front of you, still ready to catch you, attentively listening to you. It drives you even crazier, confusion tearing you in opposite directions you can’t reconcile.

“Why you?” you ask in a tight voice that wavers from resentment and confusion. “After all my training, all my work, all my efforts, all the- all the lives I’ve taken, everything I’ve done… Fate knew all along, so why put me through all of this?”

You’re on the verge of tears and clenching your fists so tight your knuckles have turned white. Vista catches your hands and brushes his thumbs over them, attempting to comfort you despite how you’re lashing out at him.

“What was the point?! It was all for nothing-”

“No, my darling. It was not for nothing.”

“Then what was it for?!”

He smiles and holds your hands a little tighter, his voice warm when he speak again.

“For this. For us to find one another, and have countless differences and similarities. For us to complete each other, perfectly. I don’t resent any of the steps you’ve taken. Not when they all lead you to me.”

“But I- I… I’ve dedicated my entire life to something I would never be allowed to keep if I wanted you! How am I supposed to accept this?!”

“Not your entire life. You’ve still got a few years to live, hopefully,” Vista jokes. “Most of your years lie ahead of you. And it wasn’t for nothing. You’re an incredible fighter, my dear,” he continues, stepping closer to you once more and bending down a little to be at your level. “You are smart, experienced, resourceful, with a breadth of knowledge I could never hope to achieve. You haven’t lost that, have you?”

“No- I haven’t… but-”

“You’ve lost your rank and your uniform, your place in a system that meant a lot to you-”

“It was my home! It was everything I knew!”

Vista stays silent for a moment, still looking into your eyes, still holding you, weighing his words before he continues.

“Now you can learn something new, with me. You can make a new home.”

He silences you when you try to cut him off and takes a deep breath before continuing.

“If you wish to leave, my flower, I will not keep you.”

Your eyes widen and you unclench your fists to catch Vista’s hands, reflexive panic rising in your chest at the prospect of being separated from your soulmate. It seems despite your reticence and desperate attempts to remain detached, you can’t prevent this bond from forming. Especially not when facing the reality of your options. He smiles bright and twines his fingers with yours, calming you.

“I- I don’t want- that,” you finally manage to admit. “I’m just- I’m just angry, and sad, and… and- scared…”

“That is understandable, my darling. I can only imagine the upheaval you’ve been through.”

Vista kisses your forehead and you squeeze his hands tighter, closing your eyes and taking a shaky breath to try to release some of the anxiety coiled in your chest. It’s tearing you apart, but you know there’s no other path for you to take. Spending any amount of time with pirates as anything other than a prisoner will bring great suspicion on you if you return to the Marines. You’re not afforded the leniency or trust given to SWORD members. And your bond will be found out, and then… Well, you’ll be a liability that needs take care of. No matter how loyal you’ve been in the past.

It’s too much to handle, you’ve never had to carry such a monumental strain before…

“Rely on me.”

Your eyes open again to meet his, your breath growing steadier as you time it to his.

“I am here for you. Whether you are scared, or sad, or angry, or lost… No matter what you are going through, rely on me. Trust that I will always have your back. I will always hold you up. If your burden is too heavy, lay it on me, my flower. Fate has entrusted you to me, and I will never let you down. I swear it.”

You’re holding his hands so tightly it has to hurt, but he does nothing to shake you off, or give you any indication that you’re hurting him. It makes you cry again, too many emotions bubbling over, confusing you, overwhelming you… You curse softly and sob once before finally giving in to your bond and diving into Vista’s chest, letting him hold you tight, allowing your bond to fully connect and shuddering when waves of compassion and love submerge you.

“I’ve got you, little flower… I’m here.”

There’s too much for you to process right now, but you know, deep in your soul, that you can trust this. You can trust him. You entire world can fall apart, and it has, but you know you can hold onto this man. As the bond between you deepens, you can feel Vista relax around you, despite the dull ache still present from your angry words.

“I- I’m sorry about what I said- I didn’t mean-”

“Shhh… It’s alright. Just give me some time, and I’ll show you.”

“Show me?”

Vista pulls back to look into your eyes and his smile is kind when he speaks.

“That I was meant for you.”