The evening crowd in Foosha Village had settled into its usual rhythm: laughter, clinking mugs, the smell of sea salt drifting in from the docks. Makino moved quietly behind the counter, refilling cups and wiping down tables. She wasn't part of the conversations, but her ears were sharp, always tuned in when a certain messy-haired boy came stomping in.
Sure enough, Luffy sat at one of the stools, chin propped up on the counter, kicking his legs impatiently. He was loud as always, boasting about how strong he'd be one day.
"I'll be stronger than anyone! You'll see!" He declared, punching the air for emphasis.
An older fisherman at the corner snorted into his mug. "Bah! You keep sayin' that every day, brat. Stronger than anyone, huh? Tell me, how are you gonna be strong like your Grandpa Garp if you can't even read a scrap of paper?"
The men at his table laughed, not cruelly, but with that rough kind of teasing that stings anyway.
Another chimed in, wagging his finger. "Or write your own name, for that matter! What'll you do if someone cheats you with a contract? You'll be too dumb to notice!"
"Or count your money!" the third added with a grin. "Strong fists won't stop you from starving if you can't tell one coin from another."
Luffy's face flushed red. He bared his teeth in a glare, gripping the edge of the counter. He wanted to yell that none of that mattered, that all he needed was strength. But the words stuck in his throat.
Makino, polishing a glass nearby, watched carefully. She didn't step in. Sometimes letting Luffy wrestle with words was better than shielding him.
One of the men leaned closer, softer now. "Listen, boy. Strength isn't just muscles. Being smart is a strength too. Like reading, writing and thinking. Those things let a man fight battles his fists can't."
"Huh?" Luffy blinked, the anger on his face faltering. "Really?"
The fisherman nodded, taking another swig of beer. "Of course! How do you think your grandpa commands the Marines? Not just with his fists, no, he can outsmart enemies, lead fleets, read reports. Strength takes many shapes."
Another added, "Street smarts, book smarts, fighting smarts… it's all strength. A man's gotta have more than one kind if he wants to go far."
Luffy tilted his head, eyes wide. For once, his mouth stayed shut as he tried to process it.
Makino caught the look, confusion mixing with curiosity. That restless spark in him was shifting, being nudged toward something bigger. She smiled faintly.
For the first time, Luffy wondered if maybe, just maybe, being strong meant more than throwing the hardest punch.
He drummed his fingers on the counter, lips pursed in thought. His little brows were furrowed. This was a rare sight considering Luffy usually barked out answers before anyone even finished asking.
The oldest of the men set down his cup and leaned forward. His voice was now steady, not teasing. "Tell me, brat. You keep sayin' you'll be strong. But strong for what?"
Luffy blinked. "For…uh... me!" he shot back automatically, but everyone caught the obvious unsure tone.
"For you?" the man raised a brow. "That's it? Just muscles for muscles' sake? Then you'll just end up like another thug. Strength without purpose makes a man dangerous to everyone, including himself."
The words hit harder than the teasing before. Luffy's small fists clenched tight. Dangerous? Him?
Another man, kinder in tone, added, "Your grandpa fights for justice. The men at sea fight for survival. Kings fight to protect their lands. Everyone's strength has a reason. What about yours, Luffy? What'll you use it for?"
Luffy opened his mouth. Closed it again. His mind felt like waves crashing too fast to catch.
Makino paused mid-wipe, watching the boy's expression shift. He looked like someone had just told him the ocean had no end.
"I… I dunno," Luffy finally admitted, his voice small.
The fisherman chuckled, not unkindly. "Then that's your homework, boy. Figure it out. Read, learn, think. You can't swing your fists at every question life throws at you. If you want to be truly strong, like your grandpa, you gotta find your answer."
For a moment, the tavern's chatter seemed to fade for Luffy. He stared at the wood of the counter, eyes darting, gears turning in his young head.
What would he fight for? Why did he want to be strong?
Makino gently slid a glass of juice toward him. "Don't worry, Luffy," she said softly, just enough for him to hear. "You've got time to figure it out. But don't waste that time."
Luffy grabbed the cup and drank noisily, but behind the slurps, his mind kept circling the question. Strong for what?
That night, as he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, the words of the old men echoed louder than any punch he'd ever thrown. For the first time, the boy who wanted nothing more than to be strong, wanted to know why.
...
"This hurts my head so much…" Luffy grumbled, kicking at the dirt road of Foosha Village. The old men's voices from last night kept echoing in his skull, like annoying seagulls that wouldn't shut up. Strong for what? Strong for who? It was the first thing he thought of after breakfast, which was rare.
"Oi, Luffy!"
He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts. Across the road, the village fish shop bustled with crates and baskets stacked high, the morning's catch still glistening. A middle-aged man with rolled-up sleeves and a grin too big for his face waved him over.
"Uncle Gyoru!" Luffy's mood shifted instantly, his frown cracking into a smile as he bolted across the road.
Gyoru laughed as the boy skidded to a stop in front of him. "You're up early for once. What, the sun forgot to hit you with a stick today?"
"I'm always up early!" Luffy declared, puffing out his chest. Then he tilted his head. "What're you doin'?"
"Work, obviously." Gyoru tapped the heavy crate beside him, fish tails flopping over the rim. "Big catch today, but my helper's sick, and these need hauling to the tavern before they stink up the place."
He eyed Luffy, squinting. "Say, brat. Think you're strong enough to help me?"
Luffy's eyes lit up instantly. "Yeah! I'm super strong!"
Without waiting, he bent to grab the crate, only to grunt and strain, his tiny arms trembling. "It's… not… heavy!" he wheezed, face red, veins bulging comically.
Gyoru roared with laughter, nearly doubling over. "Not heavy, eh? Then why do you look like you're trying to poop out a cannonball?"
"Sh-shut up!" Luffy snapped, teeth gritted. But he didn't let go. Inch by inch, wobbling like a baby deer, he lifted the crate off the ground. His knees shook. His arms quivered. But he was moving.
"Good!" Gyoru clapped once, impressed. "Strength ain't about how easy it is, it's about whether you get the job done."
They shuffled down the road together, Luffy staggering forward with determination. Villagers chuckled as they passed, some clapping for the boy, others shaking their heads.
By the time they reached Makino's tavern, sweat plastered Luffy's hair to his forehead. He dropped the crate with a victorious thunk.
"See?!" he gasped, panting. "Told ya I was strong!"
Gyoru crouched, resting an elbow on his knee as he looked Luffy in the eye. His grin softened into something more thoughtful.
"You're strong, all right. But you know what made that work? Not just your arms. It was your head, you didn't give up, you thought about how to balance it, how to keep moving."
Luffy blinked. "…My head?"
"Exactly.... You'll figure that out someday." He ruffled Luffy's hair, stood, and started unloading the crate. Luffy stood frozen for a moment, Gyoru's words stirring the same uncomfortable curiosity that the old men had planted last night.
'Strength in my head…?'
His stomach growled loudly, ruining the serious mood. "I'm hungry."
Gyoru snorted. "Then go tell Makino you earned yourself breakfast, worker boy."
And just like that, Luffy grinned again and darted inside, but the questions still itched in the back of his mind.
"Makinooo!! I want breakfast! I'm hungry!"
The boy's voice rang through the tavern as he scrambled onto his usual stool. Makino turned, her smile warm as always, sliding the glass she had been polishing back under the counter.
"Of course. Wait just a moment, alright?" She said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Luffy fidgeted, kicking his legs against the stool. By the time she returned with a plate of steaming food, his eyes sparkled like treasure.
"Meat!" He practically dove into the plate, tearing into the food with reckless abandon. Makino shook her head, amused.
"You'll choke if you don't chew, you know."
"I don't care!" came his muffled reply.
Seconds were demanded before the first plate was even finished, and Makino, used to his appetite, brought another without hesitation. Only once he was licking his fingers clean did she lean lightly on the counter, watching him.
"Say, Luffy…"
"Hm?" His mouth was still full.
She hesitated for a moment. Normally, this was the point where he'd sprint out the door the second she suggested something "boring." But this time, she decided to try anyway.
"…How about I teach you to read?"
There it was. She braced herself for the explosion of "No way!" and the comical dash for the door. Instead, to her surprise, Luffy just blinked. He didn't move. He didn't run. He didn't even scowl.
He just… thought.
"…Read?" he repeated slowly.
"Yes." Makino tilted her head, studying his expression. "Letters, words, stories. It'll help you more than you think."
Normally he'd have dismissed it in an instant. But his silence made her eyebrows lift. Something had shifted in him.
"…Would it make me strong?" he asked at last.
The question made her smile soften. "Stronger than you realize," she said, her voice gentle but steady.
Luffy sat there, staring at the empty plate. His little hands clenched, not in defiance but in restless curiosity. The voices from last night and Gyoru's words this morning all swirled together in his head.
"…Okay," he muttered, almost reluctantly.
Makino blinked. That was new.
"…Okay?" she echoed.
He scowled at her, cheeks puffing slightly. "Don't make me say it twice!"
Makino laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. She brought Luffy to a wooden table as they sat side by side. She already had a storybook prepared, placing it in front of her and opening the first page. Luffy's lesson started then and there.
...
There were many kinds of embarrassment.
The embarrassment when you trip and fall in front of everyone. The embarrassment when you try to show off and end up flat on your face. But to Luffy, the worst one of all was the embarrassment of stuttering over words, tripping not over his feet, but over his tongue.
Letters were easy. He knew his ABCs. But stringing them together into sentences was like wrestling a slippery fish. Every time he thought he had it, the word squirmed out of his grasp.
"C…ca…cat," he muttered, jaw tight, staring down at the page like it had insulted him.
"Good, Luffy. Don't rush. Try again," Makino said gently from across the counter, resting her chin on her hand.
"Caaat," he repeated, slower this time, the sound finally rolling off his tongue properly.
Makino's smile was patient, warm. She seemed to have an endless supply of it, like no matter how many times he stumbled, she could always find another smile to hand him.
By the time he reached the end of the slim storybook, his shoulders sagged with both exhaustion and relief. He slapped it shut and pushed it across the counter with a groan.
"There! Done!"
Makino chuckled softly, taking it back. "Yes, you finished. That's good, Luffy."
"Good?!" he grumbled. "That was torture!"
Her smile didn't fade. "Which is why I've got a challenge for you."
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "A… challenge?"
She slid the book back toward him. "By the end of the week, I want you to be able to read this smoothly. No stuttering, no mumbling. Clear and confident."
Luffy blinked at the book, then back at her. His pride itched at the word challenge. He hated losing.
"…And if I do it?" he asked carefully.
Makino leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Then I'll make you the biggest meat dish you've ever seen."
His jaw dropped. "…Bigger than my birthday feast last year?"
"Bigger."
He snatched the book up instantly, holding it like a treasure map. "I'll do it!"
Makino laughed again, shaking her head fondly. She knew him too well, meat was the one prize he couldn't resist. But beneath the promise of food, she also saw something else in his eyes. A spark. The stubborn determination that, once ignited, could turn into something unstoppable.
Luffy clutched the slim storybook under his arm as he dashed out of Party's Bar, the door swinging shut behind him.
"Thanks for the food, Makino!" he shouted over his shoulder. His little legs pumped hard as he barreled down the dirt road, determined to conquer the challenge by the end of the week.
"Hey, kid. Over here."
Luffy skidded to a stop, blinking. Two old men sat behind a small stand stacked with worn, sun-bleached books. Their eyes crinkled with mischief as they waved him closer.
"We saw you in there," one said, voice gravelly. "Reading. Or trying to."
Luffy's cheeks puffed up defensively. "I was reading! I finished the whole book!" He brandished it like a trophy.
The other chuckled, stroking his gray beard. "Finished, eh? A good start. But if you want to get better, you've got to practice more than once a week." He tapped the pile of books beside him. "These are simple ones, good for learning words quickly."
Luffy tilted his head, curiosity poking through his pride. "Really?"
"Yup, really." The first elder slid a small book across the stand. Its cover was faded but colorful, a picture of a lion roaring proudly. "See this? Short sentences, strong words. You'll recognize them faster. Try it."
Luffy cracked it open, stumbling over the first line. "Th… the… li… li-on…"
"Lion," the second corrected gently.
"…The lion roars."
The first elder grinned. "See? Already better."
Luffy's eyes lit up. "Hey, that wasn't so bad!"
The two men exchanged a glance. Their smiles weren't just amused, they were proud, the way old friends of Garp might be when watching his grandson take his first steps toward something bigger.
"Makino's got her hands full running the bar," the bearded one said. "So why don't you come to us when she's busy? We'll help you with the rest."
"Yeah," the other added with a chuckle. "Your grandpa left you here for a reason, you know. Man like Garp doesn't do anything without trust. So we'll do our part. We'll help make you strong, the kind of strong that doesn't fade with age."
Luffy blinked up at them, the words sinking in deeper than he let on. Then he grinned wide, showing all his teeth. "Alright! You better have more books ready, 'cause I'm gonna be the best reader in the village!"
The elders laughed, one thumping the table so hard the stack of books wobbled.
"That's the spirit, brat. Now take this one too." Another book was shoved into his hands, thinner than the first. "Start with small bites before you chew a feast."
Luffy hugged the two storybooks to his chest and dashed off again, determination buzzing in his veins. Behind him, the elders watched with quiet satisfaction.
"Think he'll stick with it?" one murmured.
The other leaned back, folding his arms. "He's Garp's blood. Once he decides to, he'll chew through the whole world."
.....
Luffy worked hard. Not only on his reading, but on everything the villagers threw his way.
At first, reading had been the worst kind of battle, words slipping through his grip like eels. Sometimes he mixed words up, sometimes he growled in frustration and flipped the book shut, but he always came back to it.
With Makino's patience and the old men's extra practice, he started to notice something strange: words stopped looking like enemies. They became tools. A sentence wasn't just a string of letters, it was a story waiting to be unlocked.
He stumbled less. Sometimes, he even read whole lines without tripping. Every page he finished filled him with the same kind of pride he felt when he knocked out a tree with a punch.
The elders would nod, pleased, and Makino would smile brighter than when he finished an entire plate of meat. It was a different kind of strength, but it felt real all the same.
And of course, there was his physical training. His grandfather, Vice-Admiral Garp, had hammered discipline into him so thoroughly ever since he could talk that it had stuck like a scar.
Every day, without fail, Luffy ran through his routine: push-ups, sit-ups, squats, sprints. No excuses, no shortcuts.
If Garp said "to the limit," then Luffy pushed until his arms shook, his breath burned, and the dirt road beneath him was slick with sweat. Only, the strangest thing happens every time, his limits move faster than anyone else's.
Day by day, the numbers climbed. First twenty push-ups became thirty. Thirty became fifty. Fifty became a hundred. Sit-ups and squats followed suit. Now, 200 pushups was light work for the 6 year old.
The distance he could sprint stretched farther each sunrise, until teenagers in the village started whispering about how it wasn't normal. Before he left for work, Luffy had asked his grandpa about it, Garp just grinned with that wolfish smile and muttered words like "genetics," "biology," and "metabolism."
Obviously, big words Luffy didn't understand, but he stored them away for later, promising himself he'd ask someone who could explain without making his head hurt.
Not that he was complaining. Not one bit.
Even after all the training, his body still buzzed with energy, like he could run another marathon or wrestle another sea king. The burn of exercise was never exhaustion, it was fuel.
One evening, while he was huffing after finishing his squats, an elder sitting nearby with his pipe leaned forward. "You know, boy," the man said, "your grandpa used to carry weights at your age. Not just push himself with numbers, sometimes he also made himself useful while he trained."
Luffy cocked his head, wiping sweat from his brow. "Useful?"
The elder nodded. "Strength for strength's sake won't get you far. Strength that helps people? That's the kind that lasts. You want to build endurance and real muscle? Go help Gyoru deliver his fish crates every day. Heavy loads, long walks, and you'll be doing good for the village at the same time."
Luffy's eyes lit up instantly. "So I get stronger and help people?!"
"That's right."
"Alright! I'll do it!"
The elder chuckled as the boy bolted off, still brimming with energy. He could already imagine Gyoru's face when Luffy came knocking every morning, demanding crates to carry like they were trophies.
And so, little by little, Luffy's training shifted from pure discipline to something more balanced: books and words for his mind, exercise and heavy lifting for his body, and errands that made him part of the village that had quietly taken him in as their own.
Oh yeah, he wasn't working for free either. Gyoru made sure Luffy got paid. It was nothing too crazy, but enough that the boy's eyes nearly popped out of his head the first time he held his own hard-earned Beri.
Obviously, Luffy was excited. He wanted to buy every single piece of meat he could find in the market that very same day. "So much meat!! I can eat for a whole week!" he shouted, holding the coins above his head like a pirate with treasure.
But before he could sprint off, Makino intercepted him at the market stall with her arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. "Not so fast, mister."
Luffy groaned loudly, stomping his foot. "Makinooo, it's my money! I worked for it!"
"Yes, and that's exactly why you shouldn't waste it," Makino said firmly, though her voice was gentle. She crouched to his level and took two coins from his hand, pressing them back against his palm. "If you spend everything on meat now, what happens tomorrow? Or the day after?"
"I'll just… get more money!" Luffy replied with all the confidence in the world.
Makino sighed, shaking her head. "And what if you can't? Sometimes work doesn't come when you want it. That's why you save. Buy only what you need today, and keep the rest safe."
Luffy puffed out his cheeks. "But I need meat."
"You want meat," Makino corrected him with a small smile. "There's a difference. Here...." She guided him to another stall, one selling vegetables, rice, and eggs. "Instead of spending it all on one thing, try balancing. Meat, sure, but also food that lasts longer. This way, you'll always have enough."
Luffy stared at the stalls, scratching his head. It wasn't nearly as fun as just grabbing meat, but then he remembered the pride in holding those coins, how good it felt knowing he earned them. If it disappeared too fast, well maybe it wouldn't feel as good.
"…Fine," he muttered, still pouting. But when Makino handed him a basket and let him choose what to buy, he perked up again. "I'll buy the biggest rice bag! And eggs!....And meat too!"
Makino laughed, ruffling his hair. "That's better. Slowly but surely, Luffy, you'll thank me later."
.....
Months passed, and a lot had changed for Luffy. For one, he had a growth spurt.
Originally, he had the height of any normal six-year-old. But over the span of three months, he shot up so fast that by the end of the summer he was taller than the tallest twelve-year-olds in Foosha Village.
It wasn't subtle, either. Makino nearly had a heart attack when she caught herself staring straight into his eyes during one of their usual lessons. She froze, book in hand, realizing she no longer had to lean down or place a hand on his shoulder to look him in the face.
"Luffy," she said slowly, her voice a mixture of disbelief and mild panic, "when did you… get this tall?"
Luffy tilted his head, completely unfazed. "Huh? I dunno. I just woke up, and everything looks smaller now."
Makino sighed, rubbing her temple. "This isn't normal…"
Her worry grew until she finally made the call for Garp. She explained everything in a rush, his sudden height, his growing appetite, how fast his body was developing.
On the other end, Garp only laughed, his booming voice rattling the den den mushi. "Bwahaha! So he's shooting up already, huh? What's the problem, Makino? That's just his blood at work! You should've seen me when I was his age. Man, I outgrew everyone in my class in a single year! I broke more chairs than I can count, too!"
"That's not reassuring!" Makino snapped, but Garp's tone didn't waver.
"Relax Makino, it's fine. Lots of factors at play here actually. Genetics, training, food, you name it! He's my grandson, after all. Strong growth just runs in the family. Don't worry, that little brat can manage himself."
Makino pursed her lips, unconvinced, but at least Garp's confidence was steady enough to ease her nerves… a little.
Meanwhile, Luffy was sitting in the corner, swinging his legs (longer than he remembered them being a few weeks ago) and looking utterly uninterested. "Can I go eat now?" he asked, as if the entire conversation about his freakish growth spurt was the most boring thing in the world.
And over these few months, Luffy would improve at reading and comprehending. Not perfect, not smooth like the adults, but good enough to recognize the words on signboards, menus, and the thinner storybooks written for elementary schoolers.
Makino was proud, so proud she sometimes caught herself smiling just from watching him sound out words on his own.
What surprised her even more was Luffy's sudden interest in storybooks. He'd plop down on a stool at the bar, legs kicking idly, nose buried in pages. The two elders, who had taken a shine to him, were only too glad to hand over a short novel one day.
Makino hesitated. A novel was still a novel, and even a "short" one wasn't exactly easy for a boy Luffy's age. She braced herself for the usual complaints, or for him to get distracted and run off halfway through.
Instead, she walked in from the kitchen to find him sitting at the counter in silence—silence—reading. His lips moved, eyes squinting in concentration, one finger sliding beneath each line. The only thing that broke the seriousness of the scene was his other hand absentmindedly picking his nose, a habit that instantly reminded her of Garp.
"Honestly…" Makino muttered under her breath, but she couldn't hide her soft smile.
Newspapers, however, were another challenge. The words were longer, stranger, and often required Makino or the elders to pause and explain. But Luffy didn't get discouraged. If anything, he grew hungrier for the stories inside.
Newspapers opened another world for him.
He collected every bounty poster that came with them like baseball cards, stashing them away like treasure. He demanded to know who these pirates were, what they had done, and why the world called them dangerous.
And it wasn't just pirates. The newspapers carried stories about distant cities and foreign lands, journalists describing cultures so different from Foosha Village that it made Luffy's head spin. There were photographs of islands with strange plants, mountains carved like stairways to the sky, and seas darker and wilder than anything he'd seen from the shore.
Of course, Luffy's small, still-childish mind couldn't grasp the big political events or complicated details. Whenever he got stuck, he ran to Makino, or cornered one of the elders at the bar. "Oi, oi, what's this mean?" he'd demand, stabbing his finger at a paragraph. The adults would chuckle, simplifying it in words he could grasp.
The world was bigger than he'd ever imagined. And for the first time, the boy who once thought only of food, naps, and roughhousing, found himself quietly wondering about places beyond the horizon.
Luffy's strength had improved tremendously. The push-ups and sit-ups were one thing, but the crates… oh, the crates.
Never mind the amount of push-ups he could do in one set, just the sight of him lifting heavy stuff made jaws drop. One afternoon, Makino nearly fainted when Luffy waddled into the bar carrying four crates stacked high, so tall they completely hid his body.
The only thing visible was his little legs poking out from the bottom, marching across the wooden floor as if the load weighed nothing at all.
"Luffy!" Makino gasped, rushing forward in terror that he'd topple over. "Put those down before you hurt yourself!"
Luffy's head popped out from behind the stack, his grin wide. "Nah, it's easy! Where do you want 'em, Makino?"
Makino pressed a hand to her chest, muttering, "You're going to give me gray hairs before my time…"
It wasn't just Gyoru's crates anymore. A few ex-Marines who had long retired at Foosha had taken an interest in Garp's grandson, giving him the same training routines they once endured on the Grand Line.
The exercises were brutal, far beyond the simple push-ups and squats Garp had drilled into him. Luffy struggled, even whined sometimes, but he never quit. A challenge was a challenge, and Luffy's determination burned hotter than ever.
The old men didn't stop at exercise. They'd give him advice on dieting. "Protein, boy. Eat more fish, not just meat. Rice, too, for energy." Maybe that's why he shot up like a bean sprout. And when it came to fighting, they corrected his wild swings, teaching him how to throw a proper punch, how to anchor his stance, how to snap his kicks with purpose instead of flailing.
The result? A buffer, taller, and definitely stronger Monkey D. Luffy.
And the villagers noticed.
At first, it was whispers over drinks at Makino's bar.
"Did you see him carrying those crates? Kid's only seven."
"Seven? He's built like a teenager already!"
"Garp's blood runs deep. That boy's gonna be a monster someday…"
The fishermen muttered when they saw him running along the coast with crates strapped to his back. The shopkeepers shook their heads when he hauled goods heavier than grown men could manage. Even the mayor, Wood Slap, usually calm and composed, admitted once over tea, "If he keeps growing like this, the world won't know what hit it."
There was pride in their voices, of course. Pride that Foosha Village had raised such a remarkable child. But mixed in with the pride was worry. Not fear of Luffy himself, but of what such strength might bring into his life, and into theirs.
Because everyone in Foosha knew one truth: nothing about Garp's family ever stayed small for long.
To be continued...