WHOOSH!
I launched myself from the plaza toward the rooftop where the figure had been standing, my cloak billowing behind me as I channeled Hamon through my legs for an enhanced leap.
The cobblestones blurred beneath my feet, and within seconds, I'd cleared the distance, landing on the roof with a soft thud that shouldn't have been possible for a normal human jump.
'Okay. Deep breath. There was someone here. They were dressed closely like me and appeared the exact moment my sword revealed its new power. That's not a coincidence—that's deliberate.'
I scanned the rooftop carefully, my eyes tracking every shadow, surface, and possible hiding spot. The tiles were old, weathered by sea salt and time, but intact. No disturbed dust, footprints, no signs of recent disturbance.
'Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Like they were never here at all.'
I activated my Hamon Pendulum, the crystal device responding immediately to my Ripple energy as I sent out a sonar-like pulse.
BZZZZT! PING!
The feedback came back with crystalline clarity—structural details of the building, the composition of the roof tiles, the empty air space around me.
But no human presence.
'They're gone. Completely gone. Like they vanished into thin air, which shouldn't be possible unless they have some kind of teleportation Devil Fruit. But even those usually leave traces—displaced air, residual energy, something.'
I walked across the roof slowly, checking every corner. My Mantra expanded outward, searching for any consciousness within a hundred-meter radius.
Nothing but my crewmates down in the plaza, the bounty hunters, Nefertari and Igaram. No mysterious figures lurking in shadows, no hidden observers watching from a distance.
'Was it my imagination? Did I actually see someone, or am I so paranoid that I'm starting to hallucinate threats that don't exist?'
But I knew what I'd seen. The figure had been real—their cloak, their hat, the way they'd stood watching me with that unnerving intensity. And more importantly, my Mantra had confirmed their presence, if only for a moment.
'Unless my Mantra is malfunctioning. Which would be concerning for entirely different reasons. Or unless whoever that was has the ability to mask their presence even from supernatural detection. Which also opens up a whole new category of problems I'm not equipped to handle.'
I stood at the exact spot where the figure had been, looking down at the plaza from their vantage point. From here, they would have had a perfect view of everything—my conversation with the bounty hunters, the revelation about Crocodile, my negotiation about forming an information network, and most importantly, the moment my sword had begun glowing.
'They waited until that exact moment to reveal themselves. Not during the fighting, or during the negotiations, but when the Sword of Gryffindor showed its new power. That's too specific to be random.'
I reached down and touched the roof tiles where the figure had stood, channeling Hamon through my hand to see if I could detect anything residual.
CRACKLE!
Nothing. The tiles were just tiles—old, weathered, completely mundane.
'Either they're incredibly good at covering their tracks, or I'm dealing with something beyond my current understanding. Neither option is particularly comforting.'
A thought occurred to me—uncomfortable, unwelcome, but persistent.
'What if it was another Stand user?'
The possibility had been nagging at me since I'd arrived in this world.
My Stand, The Box, was supposed to be impossible here—Stands didn't exist in the One Piece universe. Devil Fruits were this world's supernatural power system, not psychic manifestations of fighting spirit.
'But if I'm here with a Stand, who's to say I'm the only one? What if there are other people from different universes scattered throughout this world? What if that figure was someone like me—displaced, confused, trying to survive in a reality that isn't theirs?'
The thought was both terrifying and oddly hopeful. Terrifying because it meant potential enemies with powers I couldn't predict. Hopeful because it meant I might not be completely alone in my situation.
'Though if they were another displaced person, why not make contact? Why just watch and disappear? And why wear this outfit like me?'
I took one final look around the rooftop, my eyes scanning every surface one more time.
'Nothing. Not a damn thing. Either they're far better at this than I am, or I'm chasing ghosts. Literally, considering what my sword can do now.'
I pulled out Jack Sparrow's compass from my coat, flipping it open. The disk spun lazily before pointing... nowhere in particular. It just kept rotating, unable to settle on a direction.
'Figures.'
With a resigned sigh, I closed the compass and returned it to my pocket.
Standing here wasn't going to give me any answers, and I had more pressing matters to attend to. Like explaining to a bunch of former bounty hunters how they were going to help me build an intelligence network across the Grand Line.
THUD!
I made another leap while channeling Hamon to my legs, making me jump high.
In the air, I simply channeled Hamon through my cloak, using its billowing fabric to slow my fall to something manageable.
WHOOSH! FLUTTER!
'Not quite flying, but close enough for practical purposes. Though if anyone asks, I'm definitely calling it levitation. Sounds more mysterious that way.'
I landed near the bounty hunters with a soft thump, my boots hitting cobblestone with barely a sound.
The group turned to look at me, their expressions mixing curiosity with wariness.
They'd watched me launch myself onto a roof like gravity was optional, and now I was floating down like some kind of wizard from a fairy tale.
"Did you find anything?" Zoro asked me.
"No, nothing at all…" I replied honestly, trying to surpass the questions in my mind.
But those were problems for later. Right now, I have an information network to finalize, bounty hunters to organize, and a princess to escort through hostile territory while being hunted by a Warlord.
'One crisis at a time. That's the rule. Deal with the immediate threat, document the weird one for later investigation, and try not to think about how many impossible things are happening simultaneously.'
I sheathed the Sword of Gryffindor, feeling the pulsing fade as the blade returned to its scabbard.
My Stand disappeared as well, apparently satisfied that whatever had triggered its appearance was no longer an immediate concern.
"Alright," I said, turning back to the bounty hunters who were having too many things to think about. "Where were we? Communication protocols, right?"
Our meeting continued, and I noticed Nami and Usopp standing behind me, which was... unusual.
Nami had been suspiciously quiet during this entire 'founding meeting' of my new organization. Not a single comment about the gold I'd pulled out of my Dimensional Bag. Not even a joke or a sarcastic remark about my spending habits.
'That's more terrifying than any silence I've ever experienced. Nami not reacting to gold is like Luffy not reacting to meat. It goes against the natural order of the universe.'
I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my head, calculating something. Probably figuring out how to get her hands on some of that gold, or more likely, how to make herself an integral part of whatever I was building here.
'Great. Just great. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.'
Sanji had already left for the ship, muttering something about making late-night refreshments for "Nami-swan and Vivi-chan." I didn't even want to think about how elaborate those refreshments would be.
The man treated cooking for women like it was some kind of sacred ritual.
Meanwhile, Luffy and Zoro had somehow...managed to confiscate my Gryffindor sword.
I watched in mild horror with the edge of my vision as Zoro examined the sword with the kind of intense focus usually reserved for master craftsmen, while Luffy kept poking Karoo with his finger, trying to convince the duck to transform.
"Come on, Karoo! Transform! I wanna see Hachiman cut a ghost duck!"
"QUACK! QUACK!" Karoo frantically waddled behind Vivi, who looked torn between amusement and concern.
'Note to self: never leave magical weapons unattended around Luffy. Actually, never leave anything unattended around Luffy. The man has the curiosity of a child and the destructive capability of a natural disaster.'
I turned my attention back to the bounty hunters—former bounty hunters, I should say—who were now my employees.
The weight of that decision hadn't fully hit me yet. I'd just created an organization. An actual organization with employees and structure and... responsibilities.
But I couldn't deny the necessity of it. If I wanted to survive in this world, if I wanted to find the One Piece to open a portal back home, I needed resources. I needed information. I needed people who could operate independently while I was sailing with the Straw Hats.
'Besides, it's not like I haven't done this before. Not to mention this world, what I did in the Service Club was basically the same thing, just with less money and fewer pirates. And significantly less risk of death. Actually, no, that's not entirely true. Yukinoshita could be pretty scary when she wanted to be.'
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. This wasn't the time for nostalgia.
"Alright," I said, addressing the group in front of me. "This is the information I managed to... acquire from the Loguetown Marine base, courtesy of Nami's excellent infiltration skills."
I ignored Nami's pleased expression behind me.
'Don't let it go to her head. She's already dangerous enough without extra encouragement.'
"This will serve as your starting reference for your tasks. Remember, your priority is securing outposts and information gathering while laying low. Don't take unnecessary risks."
One of them—a stocky man with a scar across his cheek—raised his hand.
"Sir, there's one thing we haven't discussed yet."
"What is it?"
"What are we calling this organization? It needs a name, doesn't it?"
I blinked.
'Oh. Right. Names. Those are... important.'
How did I not think about this? I planned everything else—the structure, the payment system, the communication methods, even the emergency protocols—but I completely forgot about the name.
But as I stood there, with all eyes on me, I realized he was right. This wasn't just about giving something a label. People needed something to identify with, something to belong to. A name gives an organization identity, purpose, and weight.
'Think, Hachiman. What do you call a group of information brokers and smugglers operating in a world of pirates and Marines?'
Service Club.
The words appeared in my mind unbidden, unwelcome, carrying weight that had nothing to do with organizational branding.
'No. Absolutely not. That's stupid. Sentimental. Completely impractical. This isn't a club—it's a secret enterprise built on information brokering and smuggling. The people here aren't volunteers; they're employees motivated by survival and profit.'
And yet...
I couldn't shake it. The connection felt important somehow, like naming this organization after that club would create some kind of link between who I was and who I'd become.
'If I don't do this—if I don't create some connection to where I came from—something fundamental will change. Some part of me that still remembers my original goal will dissolve into this new identity completely. And I can't let that happen. Not yet. Not when I still have a chance of getting home.'
Without really meaning to, the word came out of my mouth:
"Service…"
I paused, realizing I'd said it in English, not Japanese.
'Good. That actually works in my favor. In English, it means a wide range of things—service as in assistance, service as in business, service as in duty. Not just volunteering.'
But I didn't continue with the word Club, as the people in front of me are not here to make a club. They were something else, not members of a school club, but members of something like a…Guild…?
No, an Order.
"Order," I said, the word coming naturally, and it was almost sealed.
"Service Order," I continued, my voice taking on false confidence. "That's what we'll call it."
Mr. 9 repeated the name slowly, testing how it sounded. "Service Order... It's not flashy."
"That's the point," Miss Monday said thoughtfully. "An information broker organization shouldn't be flashy. We're supposed to be subtle, forgettable. A name like Service Order suggests legitimate business rather than criminal enterprise."
'Thank you for providing the tactical justification I definitely planned all along and wasn't just making up because of sentimental attachment to my past world.'
Other bounty hunters nodded, their expressions showing acceptance if not enthusiasm.
"Service Order it is then," one of them said. "Simple, professional, doesn't draw attention. Works for me."
I felt something settle in my chest—relief mixed with an emotion I couldn't quite identify. Like I'd preserved something important by connecting this new organization to that old club, even if no one else would ever know the significance.
I listened to them discuss it, feeling an odd sense of relief that the name had come out in English.
'Thank whatever god is listening in this world. If I'd said 'Service' in Japanese, they would have immediately questioned why we're calling ourselves a volunteer organization.'
"Alright then," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
"The Service Order it is. Now, you have your assignments and your gold. Get moving before dawn. The last thing we need is for the Baroque Works to start tracking you with that much money."
They nodded, gathering their things and the gold I'd distributed. As they prepared to leave, I couldn't help but notice they were struggling with the weight of it all.
Several of them were practically limping as they walked, weighed down by injuries, coins, and bars.
'Please tell me they're going to be okay. I just gave a fortune to a bunch of people who can barely walk under its weight. This is either going to be the best investment of my life or the biggest mistake I've ever made.'
Usopp voiced what everyone was thinking.
"Uh, are they going to be alright carrying all that gold? They look like they're about to collapse."
"Well, let's hope so, I think…" I replied, not much confidence in my voice either.
Then Usopp turned to Nami, who'd been unusually quiet throughout the entire exchange.
"But hey, Nami, you were really quiet when you saw all that gold. That's not like you."
Nami finished the refreshment Sanji had just brought—some elaborate fruit parfait that probably took the cook twenty minutes to make—before responding.
"Hachiman is trying to do something important with that gold. Like what he did for my village. I didn't want to ruin his plans."
'Wait, is Nami actually being considerate? Did I slip into an alternate dimension? Is this real life?'
Then she looked at me, and I saw that familiar calculating gleam in her eyes. She coughed lightly, adjusting her voice to something sweeter, almost musical.
"But you know, Hachiman, you're going to need someone to manage the accounting and finances for your organization. And I happen to know the perfect person for the job."
'There it is. I knew the consideration was too good to be true.'
"I'm not taking anyone who isn't an expert or qualified for the position," I said flatly, already knowing where this was going but determined to put up at least some resistance.
TAP!
Suddenly, I felt something like claws digging into my shoulders. I turned to find Nami gripping me with surprising strength, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
"I am qualified," she said, her voice still sweet but with an edge of steel beneath it. "Very. Qualified. So you should just hand me the task, okay?"
'Okay, this is actually terrifying. Why does she have such a strong grip? What has she been doing to get fingers like that? Is this what happens when you spend years stealing from pirates?'
But I'd dealt with scary women before. Yukinoshita could be intimidating when she wanted to be, and Hiratsuka-sensei had literally punched me on multiple occasions. I wasn't going to be intimidated by—
'Okay, yes, I'm a little intimidated. Those are definitely claws, not fingers.'
Still, I forced myself to maintain a flat tone.
"It would be completely foolish of me to let a thief be an accountant."
BANG!
The words hit Nami like a bullet at point-blank range. Her grip loosened slightly as embarrassment flashed across her face, but she recovered quickly, her expression shifting to half-angry, half-embarrassed.
"What? Can't you trust me with just a bit of money?"
"It's hard to trust anyone when they aren't even hiding their bad intentions," I replied, gesturing at her obvious interest in the gold.
"What bad intentions?!" Nami's protest carried false innocence that wouldn't have fooled a particularly stupid child. "I only want to help!"
'Right. And I only want to collect Devil Fruits for their aesthetic value.'
"If you only wanted to help, then you'd be okay working for free," I said, keeping my voice deliberately calm.
"FREE?!" Nami's voice climbed into ranges that probably violated noise ordinances.
"How could you let someone as talented and beautiful as me work for free?! You have to give me at least seventy percent of the organization's revenue!"
'Seventy percent?! She wants seventy percent?! How shameless this woman can be?! If I paid that much for financial management, I'd be working for her rather than the other way around.'
"If I had to pay that much money for a financial management task," I said dryly, "then I would rather do it myself."
"You can't do it yourself!" Nami argued, her grip on my shoulder tightening again. "You're too busy with planning and operations and mysterious sorcerer things! You need someone who—"
"For seventy percent of the revenue? I don't think so."
"Sixty percent!"
"No."
"Fifty percent!"
"Still no."
"Come on, Hachiman! I'll make sure every berry is accounted for! I'll create detailed ledgers! I'll track every expense!"
"Don't need it and release me immediately!"
"No, I won't until you give me my money!"
'YOUR Money? The hell is this woman talking about?!'
The negotiation continued for what felt like an eternity, with Nami gradually lowering her demands until I gradually conceded points I'd never intended to defend in the first place. It was exhausting, like playing chess against someone who kept changing the rules mid-game.
'This is worse than talking with Isshiki. At least with her, I knew the parameters of the discussion. With Nami, everything is fluid and subject to change based on whatever gives her the advantage.'
Finally, we reached an agreement:
Nami would handle the financial management of the Service Order for a normal wage, plus extra perks and bonuses like gear, tools, and clothing on the organization's expense.
I managed to add one condition—that I would personally supervise and approve these perks before she could claim them.
"Deal!!"
Nami agreed without hesitation, which immediately made me suspicious.
'That was too easy. She gave in too quickly. What am I missing here?'
Then it hit me.
By agreeing to supervise her perks and expenses, I'd essentially given her an excuse to drag me around to shops and markets, forcing me to spend time with her while she tried on clothes and examined whatever seemed like necessary equipment.
'She planned this. This was her goal all along. She doesn't just want access to the money—she wants an excuse to spend time with me. Using my own rules against me.'
I looked at her face and saw the satisfied smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She knew exactly what she'd done.
'I got outsmarted by a thief. Again. This is becoming a disturbing pattern.'
I could only sigh in defeat, accepting that I'd been thoroughly outmaneuvered. Nami's smile widened, clearly pleased with herself, and I made a mental note to be more careful in future negotiations with her.
'Note to self: Nami is just as dangerous with words and contracts as she is with her bulgur skills. Possibly more dangerous. Definitely more dangerous. Why did I think I could win an argument about money against someone whose entire life has revolved around treasure?'
We made our way over to where Luffy and the others had gathered. I immediately noticed that Luffy was still pestering Karoo, who looked absolutely terrified.
"Come on!" Luffy was saying, his grin impossibly wide. "Just transform one more time! I promise I'll be careful with the sword!"
"QUACK! QUACK!" Karoo waddled frantically, trying to hide behind Vivi's.
"Luffy-san, please stop," Vivi said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice despite her concern.
'Oh, right, time to fix this before he accidentally kills someone. Or something. Or creates some kind of interdimensional incident involving ghost ducks.'
"Luffy, enough."
FLASH!!
I focused my will, and the Sword of Gryffindor disappeared from Zoro's hands in a flash of silver light, reappearing in my own grip.
The sudden manifestation made everyone at the scene stop what they were doing and stare.
"Whoa!" Luffy's eyes went wide. "How'd you do that? That's so cool!"
Zoro looked down at his empty hands, then at me, a mixture of surprise and respect on his face.
"So that's why I felt it was refusing me. It's bound to you specifically."
'Well, that's one way to put it.'
To change the subject and get us back on track, I turned to Luffy.
"What are we doing now? If we're done with our business here, shouldn't we leave the island?" I sheathed the blade carefully, feeling it settle against my side with comfortable weight.
Luffy nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah! Nami, is the Log Pose ready?"
"It's been ready for a while now," Nami replied, holding up her wrist to show the compass. "We can leave whenever you want."
"Then let's go!" Luffy declared, already moving toward the docks.
"Wait."
Igaram's voice cut through the moment, his tone carrying weight that made everyone turn to look at him.
The Royal Guard Captain stood with careful dignity despite his injuries, his ridiculous hair somehow still managing to maintain some structure.
"I won't be going with you," he said, and I could see Vivi tense beside him. "I'll leave from a different route. Create a diversion, draw attention away from your ship."
'That…could work. If Baroque Works is tracking Vivi, having a prominent decoy heading in a different direction could buy us time. Assuming Igaram survives whatever attention he draws, which is... questionable at best.'
Vivi's face fell, but she nodded, understanding the necessity of his sacrifice. "Please... be careful, Igaram."
"I'll be fine, Princess. Just focus on getting home safely."
The farewell was brief but emotional, and I found myself looking away, feeling like I was intruding on a private moment.
'Not my place to watch a daughter say goodbye to her father figure, even if I know from the manga that he survives.'
We all boarded the Going Merry, and as Loguetown began to shrink in the distance, I felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension.
I positioned myself near the railing, watching as the shore slowly began to recede.
'Goodbye, Whiskey Peak. Thanks for the hospitality trap, the aerial assassination attempt, and the opportunity to start a criminal intelligence network. Really memorable first stop in the Grand Line.'
CREAK! SPLASH!
The Going Merry began moving away from the dock, catching the wind with her sails as we headed back into open water.
The moonlight caught the waves, creating patterns of silver and shadow across the surface. It was actually beautiful, in that way, the ocean sometimes was when it wasn't actively trying to kill you.
I was contemplating the relative peace of the moment—enjoying it while it lasted, because experience had taught me that peace in this world had approximately the same lifespan as ice cream in a volcano—
HMM!
—when my Mantra pinged.
A presence. On the ship. Someone who hadn't been here a moment ago but was definitely here now.
'What—'
CLICK!
My hand moved to my pistol before conscious thought caught up, muscle memory taking over as I spun toward the source.
The flintlock cleared its holster smoothly, barrel coming up to point at—
A woman.
A beautiful woman with dark hair and striking blue eyes.
She sat on the railing next to the helm with casual confidence, one leg crossed over the other, a cowboy hat perched on her head at a rakish angle.
She wore what could only be described as a cheerleading outfit that left not that many things to the imagination.
But it wasn't the outfit that made my breath catch.
The moment I saw her face, a memory I'd buried deep—one I'd tried not to think about for two years—came rushing back with violent intensity.
Destiny Land. The water ride. Getting separated from the others. She is holding the hem of my sleeve with gentle pressure.
"Hikigaya-kun."
Her voice, soft but clear, carried weight that I hadn't fully understood at the time.
"Please. Save me one day."
The memory replayed itself with perfect clarity—her expression, her tone, the way she'd looked at me with something that might have been hope or desperation or both.
And now, looking at this woman—this stranger who resembled Yukino in small, almost imperceptible ways—that memory wouldn't stop.
'Why? Why am I remembering this now? Why does looking at this woman make me think of Yukino?'
But beneath the confusion and the resurfacing memory, my Mantra was telling me something else.
Something that made my chest tighten with an emotion I couldn't quite name.
Loneliness.
Not the casual loneliness of someone having a bad day. Not the manageable isolation of someone who preferred solitude.
This was an ocean.
A vast, overwhelming sea of loneliness and longing for help, buried so deep inside her that she probably didn't even realize how much of it she was carrying.
The emotional weight I sensed through my Mantra was staggering—like watching someone drown in slow motion while smiling on the surface.
'Just what kind of pain does someone have to go through to carry this much sorrow? What kind of life creates this level of desperate, hidden longing for connection? And how? How can someone carry this much pain and still function? How can someone be this lonely and not break under the weight of it?'
It made my own cynicism, my own self-imposed isolation, look like a child's tantrum. Made my carefully cultivated misanthropy seem shallow and performative next to her genuine, soul-deep loneliness.
"Hello," Robin said, her voice carrying calm amusement despite being surrounded by armed pirates who clearly recognized her. "What a lovely evening for a sail."
SHING! CLICK! THUNK!
The sounds of weapons being drawn filled the air—Zoro's three swords, Sanji and Nami's pistols, Usopp's slingshot, even Vivi reaching for her hidden knives.
Everyone except Luffy.
Our captain, because he probably doesn't see her as an immediate threat, and me, because I'm still processing the emotional whiplash of seeing Yukinoshita's face on a woman who radiates enough loneliness to drown in.
'I can't blame her for reminding me of Yukino. Can't be angry at her for reminding me of someone I'm trying desperately not to forget. Because whatever she's been through, whatever created that ocean of sorrow inside her—that's not her fault.'
"Um." One of my crewmates' voices cut through my emotional paralysis. "Who is that?"
I blinked, forcing myself to focus on the present situation rather than the whirlwind of emotion and memory.
Vivi had gone pale, her face losing all color as recognition hit her like a physical blow.
"Miss All Sunday," the princess whispered, her voice carrying genuine terror. "That's... that's the partner of Mr. 0. The second-in-command of Baroque Works."
The others immediately became more alert. Even Luffy looked unusually serious.
But again, not me.
"Please. Save me one day."
Just when Nefertari introduced her, there was a small shift in the woman's mood, but that shift in the ocean was too much.
I was too busy trying to calm the storm of emotions raging through my mind, trying to remind myself that this woman wasn't Yukinoshita Yukino.
She was someone else entirely—Nico Robin, the archaeologist, the woman who could read Poneglyphs, the one who'd been running from the World Government since she was eight years old.
'Get it together, Hachiman. She's not Yukino. She's your enemy now.'
But even as I told myself that, I knew it was a lie. Because I'd felt that loneliness, sensed that desperate need for help buried so deep that even she probably didn't recognize it anymore.
"Please. Save me one day."
'Just what kind of pain does someone have to endure to accumulate this much sorrow? How many years of running? How many betrayals? How many times has she been abandoned or used or hunted?'
With a casual flick of her hand—almost bored in its execution—all of our weapons were knocked away. My pistol flew from my grip, Zoro's swords clattered to the deck, and Usopp's slingshot went spinning into the darkness.
'She didn't even stand up. She just... flicked her fingers, and we were all disarmed. That's the power of the Hana Hana no Mi.'
"Please. Save me one day."
But even as I analyzed the tactical threat, I couldn't shake the emotional sensing from my Mantra.
That vast ocean of loneliness, the desperate longing for connection, is buried under layers of practiced calm and professional detachment.
'She's drowning. Has been drowning for years, maybe decades. And nobody can tell because she's learned to smile while doing it.'
I tried to focus on the conversation happening around me, Vivi demanding to know why she was here, Zoro asking if she was here to fight, and Sanji immediately shifting to his ridiculous lovestruck mode despite her being a confirmed enemy.
"Please. Save me one day."
But my mind kept drifting back to that memory of Yukino, to the comparison between these two women who shouldn't have anything in common but somehow did.
'I'm forgetting her. After everything we went through, after all the effort I put into helping her, I'm slowly forgetting Yukinoshita Yukino. What kind of person does that make me?'
The guilt hit me like a sea wave. Two years in this world, and already the details were starting to fade. The exact shade of her eyes, the precise way she'd phrase her insults, the particular way she'd hold her coffee cup—all of it becoming less clear with each passing day.
'What happens to her when I disappear? Is she okay? Did she fall back into that isolated state I worked so hard to pull her out of? Does she blame herself?'
I forced myself to tune back into the conversation, catching the tail end of something Robin was saying about the Eternal Pose to Arabasta, about how she was giving it to them as a gift, and Luffy breaking it, declaring that he was the one in charge here.
"Please. Save me one day."
Then she jumped from the ship onto a giant sea turtle that had been waiting in the water. The turtle began swimming away at a surprising speed, and I found myself running to the railing without thinking.
"Please. Save me one day."
'God Damn It!!'
"Wait!" I shouted, my voice carrying across the water.
"Please. Save me one day."
Robin turned, standing on the turtle's shell with perfect balance, and for a moment our eyes met.
She smiled—a small, enigmatic expression that could have meant anything or nothing.
"Please. Save me one day."
"We'll meet again," she said simply, then something that looked like a chamber appeared around her seat, and the turtle dove beneath the waves, disappearing into the darkness.
I stood at the railing, breathing hard, my hands gripping the wood so tightly my knuckles had turned white.
"Please. Save me one day."
'What the hell was that? Why did I shout? What was I going to say if she'd actually stopped?'
"Hachiman?" Nami's voice came from behind me, concerned. "Are you okay?"
I didn't answer immediately. I couldn't. My mind was still racing, trying to process everything that had just happened—the memory of Yukino, the overwhelming loneliness I'd sensed from Nico Robin, the guilt of slowly forgetting someone important, the confusion of why any of it mattered.
'I can't save everyone. I know that. I learned that lesson the hard way two years ago. And even back in my world, I knew I couldn't fix every broken person I met. You can't solve every problem. You can't carry everyone's pain.'
But knowing something intellectually and feeling it emotionally were two different things. And right now, my emotions were a tangled mess that I had no idea how to sort through.
"I'm fine," I finally said, though my voice sounded hollow even to my own ears.
'No, I'm not fine. I'm very much not fine. But what else am I supposed to say? That I just had a breakdown because someone reminded me of a girl from another world? That I felt someone's loneliness so strongly that it made me question everything? That I'm terrified of forgetting the people I left behind?'
Yeah, that'll go over well.
I turned away from the railing, forcing myself to look at the concerned faces of my crewmates.
Luffy looked confused but not particularly worried—emotions tended to bounce off him like rubber.
Zoro was frowning, clearly suspicious of Robin's motives. Sanji was lighting a cigarette, his expression unreadable. Usopp was nervously checking his slingshot, probably making sure it wasn't damaged.
Vivi looked pale and shaken, still processing the fact that the second-in-command of Baroque Works had just been on our ship.
And Nami... Nami was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. Concern, yes, but also something else. Understanding, maybe? Or curiosity?
'Great. Just what I need. More attention.'
"That woman," Vivi said, her voice shaky, "Miss All Sunday... she's incredibly dangerous. She's been with Crocodile for years, and no one knows her real motives. Almost like she has her own agenda."
"She gave us the Eternal Pose to Arabasta," Nami pointed out, holding up the compass. "Why would she do that if she's our enemy?"
"I don't know," Vivi admitted. "That's what makes her so terrifying. You never know what she's thinking or what she's planning."
'I know what she's planning. She's looking for the Poneglyph in Arabasta. She's been searching for the Rio Poneglyph—the True History—her entire life. It's all she has left from her destroyed home and her murdered mother.'
But I couldn't say any of that without revealing I somehow knew the future or had knowledge I shouldn't possess. So I kept my mouth shut and let the others speculate.
"Well, whatever she's planning, we'll deal with it when we get to Arabasta," Luffy declared with his usual confidence. "Right now, we're continuing our journey!"
The others cheered, their spirits lifting at Luffy's enthusiasm. Even Vivi managed a small smile, though worry still lingered in her eyes.
I moved away from the railing, trying to shake off the lingering effects of that encounter.
My hands were still trembling slightly—from adrenaline or emotion, I wasn't sure—and I clenched them into fists to stop the shaking.
'Get it together, Hachiman. You've got a job to do. You don't have time for emotional breakdowns over memories and strangers' loneliness.'
But even as I tried to rationalize it away, I knew this wasn't over. Robin had said we'd meet again, and she was right. In Arabasta, we'd face her and Crocodile, and I'd have to make decisions about how to handle her.
'Could I save her? Should I even try? She's not Yukino. She's an enemy right now, an accomplice to Crocodile's schemes, someone who's been part of organizations that hurt and killed people.'
But she was also a survivor. A woman who'd been running since childhood, who'd been betrayed and used and hunted for two decades, who'd never had anyone she could truly trust or rely on.
'Just like Yukino, in a way. Different circumstances, different worlds, but the same fundamental loneliness.'
I shook my head, trying to clear these thoughts. This wasn't the time for philosophical contemplation about saving people or the nature of loneliness.
We are now in the Grand Line—the most dangerous stretch of ocean in this world—and I needed to be focused and prepared.
'But…if I can…would I really do it…?'
…
The Third Arc.
Promises, Goals, and Love are Dangerous, As Expected!
Completed!
...
A/N: Sorry for the wait. I took my time with this one, really wanted to get the feeling right.
I hope I did...
Anyway, This Arc is finally completed!
Thank you all for reading!! Hope you enjoyed this one!
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