A young man, covered in blood, was running across, a crazed battlefield.
Boom!!... blast!! The thunderous noise of bullets leaving their barrels and bombs detonating could be heard all around.
"Shit, my eyes can't see properly," he grumbled to himself. It's an obvious outcome with all the blood dripping down his forehead; an earlier fall had made him smash his head on an accursed rock. Now not only was the blood loss making him dizzy, but blood mixed with sweat was flowing into his eyes; sharp aches tormented his eyeballs.
Every step he took was driven by a mixture of emotions he felt in his heart.
'No one forced me, I chose this for myself..' Constantly reminding himself. 'I need to see this through!!'
He kept running forward with determination plastered on his face. But suddenly!!... Swushhh! "What??" A bullet passed his left ear, which made him flinch momentarily.
Stunned, he looks around. "Phew! It was just a stray huh!..." exclaiming under his breath and finding not a single soul in the immediate vicinity, he pressed on.
"I can't die in such a meaningless way" — at least the resolve wasn't lacking.
Being Just an ordinary soldier in the army, his team had recently been stationed at the rear. It had generally been peaceful, as days passed without any action... but today!!.... today was a stark contrast—early in the morning they were ambushed!
Because the war had stagnated into a stalemate, hardly anyone saw it coming.
In that dire situation, the higher-ups decided to retreat... but how could it be so simple for him?.. His squad was tasked with covering the withdrawing soldiers while slowly pulling back themselves
Initially everything seemed to go according to plan... until, under heavy gunfire, he was separated from his squad. that led to his current predicament.....
Suddenly, eyes catching sight of something further ahead; "Enemies?" he ponders.
Nothing's clear with all the dust and fog coupled with his hazy mind.. Despite that, more than five figures wearing the enemy uniform are spotted.
"It's the enemies!!"
With the suspicion being confirmed, retreat wasn't an option. The risk was greater. If he recklessly tried to retreat now he would surely be noticed by the enemies.
With his back exposed and no cover, the only outcome would be an immediate trip to the king of hell. A death sentence..
The enemy soldiers were unaware of his presence, seemingly distracted by other matters, which for now, gave him the advantage—but he was still out in the open, no cover at all. He had to risk it if he wanted to make it through.
Resolving himself, he gripped his AK-74 and prepared to act.
Moving closer, his position was exposed, but by then it was far too late for his enemies... having the element of surprise well within his grasp, he resolutely fires at the front in a frenzy.
The five unsuspecting soldiers—miserable men sharing a similar destiny as him—fall one after another.
Meanwhile, his mind drifts elsewhere. entangled into a mess of thoughts...
'This meaningless proxy war, started by a handful of powerful countries, has led to the deaths of thousands of people... My parents—two innocent tourists who never asked for this, were also among the casualties.'
'For the ones fighting this war, their deaths were irrelevant... They were foreign civilians who died in a crossfire, accounting in a long list of casualties...'
Remembering the moment when the news got out of their death, he feels a pang of emptiness.
'People always die suddenly. Death doesn't knock before entering... it's an inevitable consequence of life! I have always known this fact.'
—Everyone knows it— but nobody wants to be reminded of it. Only when death peers into their unsuspecting lives with its indifferent eyes do they remember.
'My presence here won't affect the outcome of this war. It is far too complex for a single soldier to make a difference... Even though my parents were killed by a rocket released from the other side, that doesn't make the side I am fighting for the good guys.
'Then why???!!!! Even knowing this... Why did I end up here??!!!'
'...Why do I fight?'
'For a cause I don't believe in! For people I don't care about... for revenge I'll never get!'
'Maybe it's obligation, a lingering shred of duty for my parents... or is it because?....'
Unaware, his words begin to slip into the open air. "I have nowhere to go! No friends to speak of! No family! heh truly, do i have nothing to look forward to in life?..."
His voice is a mix of self-mockery and sorrow.
"Yes! I have no path to follow except this war!" At last, in his turmoil, he gives himself a way out—a reason to keep up the struggle. Whether he believed his own reasoning or not... no one yet knew.
All this had flashed through his mind in mere seconds, even as he continued to fire at the front with unwavering intensity
Coming back to his senses, he picked up his pace and no longer lingered at the same spot.
Also, removing his finger from the trigger, he hurled a grenade into the enemies ranks—a move necessary to ensure none survived to retaliate when his guard inevitably dropped
Boom!!... The grenade detonated. A thunderous roar filled the air as blood mixed into the soil. The damp humidity smothered any flames.
Just after thought they were all dead...
Bang! A shot cracked from behind. A bullet whistled through the air—Shooo!!—straight at him. Did some other enemy soldier locate him?
Pierce!... The bullet precisely hits the back of his head. An instantaneous numbness surged through his whole body.
Reminded of the earlier stray bullet, he tried to look back toward his left. Like last time, this one also came from the left... but alas it was futile...
Thud! In just a split moment, the puppet lost it's strings.. Blood from his collapsed body creates a puddle beneath his head;
Adding a new number to the long list of casualties, it's a meaningless death, but at last!... an early closure to a life, that had long voided of any future...
.
.
.
"One hundred and 90...7, huff!!"
"One hundred and 90...8 huff!!"
Only the sound of counting is echoed in a small—almost empty room, as sweat dripped down a boy's brow while he strained through yet another push-up.
He is exhausted!
"100 and 90...9, aaaghhh!"
"Two hundred," he muttered after collapsing onto the floor.. his white hair and clothes, drenched in sweat.
"Huff!... huff!" Lying flat on the floor he pants heavily like a beast.
'Phew! Finally! Finally! I can do 200 push-ups..' the boy exclaimed.
Two hundred push-ups may seem excessive for a five-year-old, but in actuality this much isn't that impressive or even rare. It's hardly worth mentioning in a world with overpowered races, where extraordinary five-year-olds who can easily kill an adult giant have existed.
The boys got up, exposing his milky face.
Normally his outward appearance wouldn't be considered remarkable. Sporting a black half-pants with a matching white t-shirt, he looked typical for his age... that is if one were to ignore the ghostly white hair and those conspicuous white horns sprouting from either side of his forehead.
Though in this world, Where a plethora of unbelievable mysteries are surprisingly, possibilities in reality... maybe, even pointy horns are considered relatively normal-looking.
Picking up an apple lying on the table—crunch!—he took a bite while contemplating his new lease on life. 'It's been more than 3 years since I started having those strange memories—memories of my previous life, but why can't I remember all of it?'
Oddly enough, despite the strange scenes of a lost bygone past resurfacing around the time he was just two years old, only a portion of it had actually returned. This had made his younger self confused and anxious. forced to question his own identity.
Being trapped inside the body of a child with a very hazy recollection of their past life and a loss of identity would horrify just about anyone—but evidently, as it turned out to be apparent, he wasn't just anyone!! Even with the loss of a major part of his identity, his past life's arduous trials and experiences had made his mentality very strong. His instinct told him to wait, which he did.
That patience had been fruitful. Over the past three years he gradually remembered more and more. It is far from a complete recovery, but he has instinctively come to realize that the memories and knowledge he has managed to recall were among the most impactful from his previous life. Every single one of them was among what had shaped him as a person.
While there remained many things he was still unclear about, he felt that those remaining things weren't so important.
"If what I believe is correct, then why—even after all this time, why can't I remember their faces? Weren't my parents important to me?"
In these few years he has come to know many things, his understanding seemingly better than even many of the adults he meets on a daily basis. However, regarding his parents, he is lost.
Thinking about this conundrum makes his expression drop... there's sadness and a helpless confusion in that face... though frankly it doesn't have to be this way, for since long now he has arrived at a possibility—a possibility he hadn't want to consider.
His dark eyes gaze outside the window.
"Could it really be because I don't want to remember!!" he blurts out...
Yes, indeed it seems his mind was unconsciously—or maybe consciously—suppressing some of the memories of his parents. Likely a case of trauma.
He felt dejected at the thought, but the reality of the matter would not change for his emotions. Because as much as he wished against it, such a thing could very well be plausible.
Despite the resurgence of his memories making him more mature, his own self was not overtaken. Knowledge alone doesn't make you wise.
Nevertheless the boy is stronger-willed than anyone of his age. Moments later, he clenched his small fists, inadvertently squishing the half-eaten apple he was holding...
Although the ache in his heart hadn't gone away, he had the determination to move forward. He had done it once, he could do it again.
"Previously I couldn't live my life to the fullest... I foolishly died in vain! But not this time... This time, will be different, I promise this to you..."
"Mother."
"Father..."
With his gaze still fixed outside the window, he promised to those pair of parents from his past life while gradually easing his clenched fist.
Thereafter, his emotions became somewhat calm.
Though thinking about his present situation, he was lost in his own thoughts yet again. "This world is very dangerous! If I want to survive I must become strong. Strength alone is the only true law in this world. This fact is clear—even more so here, compared to the other world."
This is the world of One Piece; the world of pirates. Thankfully, not only did a manga called "One Piece" exist in his past world, but for some unknown reason he remembers every bit of the series, even up to the minute detail. He even remembered the theories he read/watched.
This is weird considering, although he was an avid fan of the series, such a clear memory of a seemingly minor part of his life shouldn't have been possible.
He hypothesized, the reason could be because One Piece had a profound impact on his psyche. After all, One Piece was indeed his favorite story, falling into borderline obsession... Ever since watching it for the first time he had always felt deeply attached to the story and it's setting on a personal level.
....
..Creak...*
Just when the boy took a final bite from the apple, the front door opens wide and a giant white-haired man—nearly 7 ft tall—walks into the room.
"Father."
This was the boy's father; his only family in this life.
The father possessed nearly the same features as his son, though unlike his son he didn't have any horns. The horns seemed to come from his mother's side.
The man walks in front of the boy and pats his head. "Why are you so formal, Sear? Didn't I tell you to call me dad!"
Initially Sear seems a little hesitant. However, despite his reserved personality, particularly lacking particularly in the social interaction department, he still complies with his father.
"Umm... s-sorry, dad." Although he felt connected to his previous parents, the person in front of him was also his real father... furthermore, he identified himself more deeply with his present self as Arka Sear, the son of Arka Jacob, than his past self.
"Well it's nothing to apologize about... So did you finish your morning workout?"
"Yes! I have done it, today was 200 push-ups."
"Great..." Jacob truly felt proud of his son. After all, not every five-year-old has this level of dedication. "I've caught a big fish from the river, let's go to the kitchen and cook this."
"Oohh!" Sear seem to become elated hearing this, and why wouldn't he? for in this world the bigger the fish, the more delicious it is when cooked.
Jacob looks at his son and sighs internally. 'This kid, he is always reserved and depressed. He tries to hide it, but how can he hide it from me!... But well, he still likes fish, huh!?'
With this, the father-son duo proceed to the kitchen.