"Don't ...… know ... you ...… to introduce ...…should...… first?"
"... that ...? But … asked ...…, ... you ...… answer ...…! Then ...… myself!"
"…Fine, ... Hikigaya Hachiman…"
"... cool, you ...… last name!"
"...… normal…?"
"Umm, ...….... nobles ...… names, ... slaves...… name."
"I…see, ...… only name…"
"...… My Name Is...…!"
———
"Hmm…"
I woke up to the lingering remnants of a dream that was already slipping through my mental fingers like water through a sieve.
'What the hell was that?'
The images were fragmentary at best—a dark, cloudy sky that seemed to stretch on forever without a single ray of sunlight breaking through.
Buildings that looked less like homes and more like industrial factories, all metal and smoke and grinding gears.
There was also a very wide hole in the ground with what could be described as an elevator reaching to its abyssal depth, which, honestly, among all the ominous things I was remembering, gave the most heinous feeling.
And somewhere in that bleak landscape, a pillar of fire extending toward that sunless sky like a desperate prayer that would never be answered.
'Cheerful stuff. Really setting a positive tone for the day.'
But the strangest part—the part that was so confusing to me even in the dream—was the boy.
A young kid in rags, clothes that had probably been worn by three other people before him, standing in that dystopian hellscape with a smile so bright it was almost offensive in its contrast to the surroundings.
He'd been talking to me about something. Something important?, judging by the intensity in his eyes.
But for the life of me, I couldn't remember what he'd said.
'Great. So now I'm having prophetic dreams about smiling children in industrial apocalypses. That's not ominous at all. This is exactly the kind of psychological red flag that therapy was invented for.'
I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to shake off the lingering unease. The dream was already fading further, details becoming fuzzy and indistinct like a photograph left too long in sunlight.
'Probably just my brain processing all the thinking I did last night. Because apparently, meeting Nico Robin and having her remind me of Yukinoshita wasn't enough—now my subconscious needs to contribute its own brand of psychological torture.'
The encounter with Robin had kept me up for hours. Her face, so similar to Yukino's in those small, almost imperceptible ways. That ocean of loneliness I'd sensed through my Mantra, deep enough to drown in. The memory of Destiny Land and Yukino's quiet plea echoes in my mind like a broken record.
'Stop. Don't go down that road again. You spent half the night dissecting that interaction—you don't need to do it again during your waking hours, too.'
I forced myself to focus on the present—the gentle rocking of the Going Merry beneath me, the sound of waves against the hull, the faint voices of my crewmates somewhere above deck.
The hammock beneath me swayed slightly, and I had to admit that while it wasn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement I'd ever experienced, it was leagues better than what I'd endured during my two years of sailing before joining this crew.
'At least I'm not sharing floor space with nineteen stinky sailors in a room that smells like a combination of sweat, fish, and existential regret. Small mercies.'
I'd taken the night watch after the Robin incident, partly because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, and partly because I needed time to think without anyone asking if I was okay or making concerned noises about my mental state.
'Though apparently all that thinking didn't accomplish much beyond giving me weird dreams about industrial dystopias and smiling children. Fantastic use of time, Hachiman. Really productive.'
With a groan that was only partly theatrical, I slid down from the hammock. My feet hit the wooden floor of the men's quarters with a soft thud, and I had to blink a few times to adjust to the dim lighting.
'Late morning. I slept way longer than intended. Though given that I was awake until well past dawn contemplating the nature of loneliness and my slowly deteriorating memory of people from my original world, I probably needed it.'
I made my way to the ladder, climbing up toward the main deck with movements that were still sluggish from sleep. The hatch opened above me, and immediately I was hit with the full force of daylight and the sound of laughter.
SPLASH!
"QUACK!"
"Shishishi! Do it again, Karoo!"
'Oh, good. Luffy's already torturing the duck. What a lovely way to start the day.'
I emerged onto the main deck to find the guys—Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji—gathered around Karoo, who was making increasingly distressed sounds while they laughed at whatever they'd convinced the poor ghost duck to do.
Over by the railing next to the helm, I could see Nami and Vivi talking quietly, their heads close together in that way that suggested either conspiracy or girl talk. Possibly both.
'Great. Everyone's already awake and socializing. Meanwhile, I look like I just crawled out of a cave after a month-long hibernation. This is going well.'
"Oi! Hachiman!" Luffy spotted me immediately, waving with his trademark grin. "You're finally awake! We thought you died!"
'What a comforting thought to start my day with. Thank you, captain, for that vote of confidence in my survival capabilities.'
"Good morning," I said, my voice still rough from sleep. "Or afternoon. Whatever time it is."
"Late morning," Zoro supplied helpfully, not looking up from where he was leaning against the mast. "You slept like the dead."
"The comparison is appreciated," I replied dryly. "Really sets a cheerful tone."
"Did you sleep well?" Usopp asked, and there was genuine concern in his voice rather than just polite inquiry.
"You looked pretty out of it last night after that woman left."
'Of course, they noticed. Apparently, nothing gets past this crew when it comes to their crewmates acting weird. Where's that level of observation when we're walking into obvious traps?'
"I'm fine," I said, which was approximately sixty percent true. "Just needed some sleep."
"Hachiman!" Nami's voice called from the helm, and I turned to see her waving at me. "There's water left from this morning if you want to take a bath!"
'A bath. God, yes. I probably smell like a combination of night watch, anxiety sweat, and the general maritime funk that comes from living on a ship.'
"Thanks," I called back, genuinely grateful. "I'll do that."
I opened the door to the stern storage room, walked past the cannons, goods, women's room, and entered the bathroom.
The bathroom on the Going Merry was small but functional—another significant upgrade from my previous sailing experiences, where "bathroom" was a generous term for "bucket on deck."
'The bar for luxury keeps getting lower. Soon I'll be grateful for having shoes that don't leak.'
SPLASH! WHOOSH!
The water was cold, but I didn't mind. Cold water meant I was actually awake rather than stumbling through the day in a sleep-deprived fog.
I scrubbed away the night's accumulated grime, brushed my teeth with the supplies I'd stored in my Dimensional Bag, and generally tried to make myself presentable.
'Look at me. Maintaining basic hygiene. Yukinoshita would be so proud. Or more likely, she'd point out that basic hygiene is the bare minimum expected of functional humans and doesn't deserve praise.'
The thought made my chest tighten slightly.
'Stop. Don't think about her right now. You've got enough on your plate without adding "guilt about slowly forgetting people from my original world" to today's emotional menu.'
After finishing my shower, I made my way toward the lounge, my stomach reminding me that I hadn't eaten since yesterday evening.
The smell of food hit me before I even opened the door—something savory and warm that made my mouth water immediately.
'Sanji. Of course. The man treats cooking like a sacred ritual. Which, given that he's the only thing standing between us and Luffy eating everything on this ship, is probably accurate.'
I pushed open the door to find Sanji at the stove, apparently heating something, while Luffy stood nearby with an expression that could only be described as "predatory interest".
"But Sanji!" Luffy was saying, his voice carrying that whining quality he got when denied food. "I'm hungry! Just a little bit!"
"No!" Sanji's response was immediate and firm. "This is for Hachiman! You already ate breakfast, you glutton!"
'Oh. He's... he's actually holding food aside for me. That's... surprisingly considerate. Especially given that Luffy's food-stealing abilities rival professional thieves.'
"But I want to eat with Hachiman!" Luffy protested, and I could see right through that excuse.
'Nice try, captain. But we all know "eating with someone" is just code for "eating their food while they're distracted".'
"Morning," I announced my presence, and both of them turned to look at me.
"Hachiman!" Luffy's face lit up. "Tell Sanji that you want me to eat with you!"
"What I want," I said carefully, "is to actually have food to eat. Which means keeping you at a safe distance from my plate."
"See." Sanji gestured at me triumphantly. "Your shitty lies aren't working on anyone."
Luffy pouted, but it was the kind of pout that suggested he knew he'd been caught and was just going through the motions of protest.
'At least he's predictable. That's something.'
"Though..." Sanji's expression shifted to something more calculating as he looked at me. "I suppose I could make enough for both of you. Can't have our Captain claiming I'm playing favorites."
'Translation: he doesn't want to deal with Luffy's whining for the next hour. Smart man.'
SIZZLE! CLANG!
Within minutes, Sanji had plated food for both of us—some kind of fish dish that looked far more appetizing than it had any right to be, given our shrinking provisions.
And then, surprisingly, he produced a small cup of coffee.
The smell hit me immediately—strong, dark, with just enough sugar that I could tell he'd remembered my preferences.
"The cup is small," Sanji said before I could comment, his tone defensive. "Because drinking that much sugar with this plate ruins the taste of the food. This is a compromise."
'He's acting grumpy about it, but he still did it. That's... actually kind of nice. In a tsundere sort of way that I'm not going to analyze too deeply because it's too early for that level of psychological dissection.'
"Thanks," I said, and I meant it sincerely.
Sanji just humphed and turned away, trying to look cool as he lit a fresh cigarette.
'Yeah, you're not fooling anyone with that act. But I appreciate it anyway.'
Luffy and I settled at the table, and I had to admit—the food was excellent. The fish was perfectly cooked, the seasoning subtle but effective, and even the coffee, despite its small size, was exactly what I needed.
"This is delicious!" Luffy declared around a mouthful of food, his table manners as nonexistent as ever.
"It is," I agreed, taking a more civilized bite.
'The skills of our nicotine addict cook are genuinely impressive.'
From the kitchen, I heard Sanji's satisfied hum, though he was clearly trying to play it cool.
Then his expression shifted to something more serious as he turned back to look at us—or more specifically, at Luffy.
"I'm glad you're enjoying the food and all," Sanji said, his voice taking on an edge. "But we're running out of provisions. This crew is full of gluttons."
He glared directly at Luffy with that last word.
'Subtle. Really subtle. I'm sure Luffy will definitely catch that reference to his eating habits.'
"It's okay!" Luffy said cheerfully, completely missing or ignoring Sanji's pointed stare. "We can just fish for something!"
'Because of course that's his solution. Just fish. As if the ocean is a floating buffet specifically designed for his convenience.'
"It's not that simple," I said, setting down my coffee cup. "We're at sea, yes, but that doesn't mean fishing is easy. What's more, the Grand Line's waters are unpredictable, fish here are probably as dangerous as everything else in this ocean."
"Exactly!" Sanji gestured at me with his cigarette. "And with your food intake, we'd need a whole fleet of fishermen just to keep you fed!"
Luffy's expression shifted to something that might have been concern, though it was hard to tell through his usual grin.
"Ah..." he laughed, scratching the back of his head. "Don't worry about small things like that! We'll figure it out!"
Then, as if to prove his point about not worrying, he demolished the rest of his food in approximately three bites and stood up.
"Oi! Usopp!" he called out, already out of the lounge. "Do we have fishing rods?"
And there he goes. Problem identified, solution proposed, immediate action taken. No overthinking, no anxiety about potential complications. Just pure, unfiltered confidence that things will work out.
'Must be nice, living like that. Not constantly analyzing every possible way things could go wrong. Not lying awake at night contemplating the philosophical implications of loneliness and memory.'
I finished my own meal at a more reasonable pace, savoring the last of my coffee despite its disappointingly small size.
'Sanji was right though. The sugar does make the taste slightly off. But I'm not going to admit that out loud because I refuse to give him the satisfaction.'
THUD! SHUFFLE!
Not much later, I found myself sitting on the railing of the main deck, a fishing rod in hand that Usopp had apparently been storing somewhere.
To my right sat Zoro, looking about as enthusiastic about fishing as I felt about social interaction.
To my left was Sanji, who at least seemed to be taking this seriously, given that our food situation depended on it.
On the other side of the deck, Luffy had positioned himself with his own rod, Usopp beside him looking nervous, and—surprisingly—Karoo had been recruited as well, the duck looking deeply unhappy about this development.
'A ghost duck who can possess objects is being used for fishing. This world continues to find new ways to be absolutely insane.'
"QUACK-QUACK!"
"Come on, Karoo!" Luffy was already pestering the poor creature. "Just possess the fishing rod! We can fish much more easily like that!"
"QUACK! QUACK!" Karoo's distressed sounds suggested he'd rather be literally anywhere else.
'Same, duck. Same.'
I reached into my cloak, pulling out three cans of MAX Coffee from my Dimensional Bag. The familiar weight of them was almost comforting.
'Might as well make this bearable.'
PSSSHHH!
I cracked open a can and passed the others to Zoro and Sanji, keeping one for myself.
"How much of this stuff do you have?" Sanji asked, accepting the can with a raised spiral eyebrow as he opened the can. "And where do you even get it? I've never seen these before."
'From another universe, via my Stand's reality-bending powers. But sure, let's go with "I have a good supplier".'
"I have my sources," I replied vaguely, taking a sip of my own coffee.
Zoro was examining his can with the expression of someone trying to decode ancient hieroglyphics.
"What is this?" he asked, turning it over in his hands.
"Coffee," I explained, demonstrating how to open the pull-tab. "See? Just pull here."
PSSSHHH!
Zoro mimicked my action, the can opening with a satisfying hiss. He took a cautious sip, and I watched his face go through several interesting expressions.
"It's sweet," he observed, sounding somewhat betrayed by this revelation. "I would have preferred beer or wine."
'Of course you would. Because everything with this man somehow circles back to booze.'
"But," Zoro continued, taking another sip, "I'll drink it."
'High praise from the man whose beverage preferences begin and end with "does it contain alcohol".'
From the other side of the deck, I could hear Luffy making increasingly excited noises at Karoo, while Usopp tried desperately to get him to calm down.
"Stop making so much noise!" Usopp hissed. "You're scaring away all the fish!"
"I'm not!" Luffy protested. "I'm just trying to make Karoo possess the fishing rod!"
"THAT'S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!"
SPLASH! SPLASH!
"OI, LUFFY!" Sanji's voice cut across the deck like a whip. "If you don't catch anything, you're stuck with only spicy food for a week!"
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Luffy's face went pale, his eyes widening with genuine horror.
"WHAT?!" he shrieked. "Why am I the only one being punished?!"
"Because you're the one scaring away the fish, you moron!"
"I am not! Hachiman is sitting right there doing nothing!"
'Excuse me? I'm sitting here peacefully minding my own business, and suddenly I'm dragged into this?'
"That's because Hachiman has the patience to actually fish properly!" Usopp shot back.
"Then let's make it a competition!" Zoro's voice carried that edge it got when he sensed a challenge. "Whoever catches the least fish gets the spicy food punishment!"
'No. No, we are not turning this into a competition. That's the last thing we need—'
"You're on!" Luffy declared immediately.
'—and of course it's too late. Because when has anyone on this ship ever listened to reason?'
SPLASH! WHOOSH!
The fishing competition began in earnest, with all the maturity and restraint I'd come to expect from this crew.
Which is to say, none whatsoever.
Luffy was practically vibrating with competitive energy, his fishing rod moving with manic intensity.
Zoro had settled into a focused stance that suggested he was treating this like sword training.
Even Usopp had gotten swept up in it, muttering about his legendary fishing skills.
'This is stupid. This is so incredibly stupid. We're supposed to be catching food because we're running low on supplies, and instead we've turned it into a contest about who—'
TUG!
My fishing rod jerked suddenly, and I felt the unmistakable pull of something on the other end.
'Huh. Okay then.'
I reeled it in with practiced ease, and a decent-sized fish emerged from the water, flopping on the deck.
"First catch!" Usopp announced. "Hachiman's in the lead!"
'I wasn't even trying. I was literally sitting here contemplating the stupidity of this situation, and I caught a fish. How does that work?'
SPLASH!
TUG!
SPLASH!
More catches started appearing—Luffy pulled up something that looked like it might be edible if you ignored the slightly terrifying teeth.
Zoro caught two fish in quick succession, his competitive nature apparently extending to fishing now.
Even Karoo, despite his obvious reluctance, managed to catch something while possessing Usopp's rod.
'We're actually doing this. We're having a fishing competition to determine who gets punished with spicy food.'
And I am losing, damn it!
It was then that Vivi's voice cut across the increasingly chaotic fishing scene, carrying an edge of genuine worry that made everyone pause.
"You're all taking this a bit too lightly!"
The laughter died down as we all turned to look at her. She was standing near the helm, her expression serious in a way that reminded me she was a princess dealing with a kingdom in crisis, not just another crew member enjoying fishing.
"Baroque Works is still out there," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "They're still hunting us. And here you all are, fishing like we're on a vacation!"
'Ah. Right. The secret criminal organization led by a Warlord who wants her dead. That minor detail we've all been conveniently ignoring for the last hour.'
"They'll show up eventually!" Luffy said confidently, his grin never wavering. "And when they do, we'll beat them up!"
"That's right," Zoro added, not even looking up from his fishing rod. "Let them come. We'll handle it."
"We kicked their butts at Whiskey Peak!" Usopp declared, his earlier cowardice apparently forgotten in the competitive spirit. "We can do it again!"
Vivi looked like she wanted to argue, but before she could, I found myself speaking up.
"They're not chasing us."
The words came out flat, matter-of-fact, and immediately garnered everyone's attention. Even the fish seemed to stop biting for a moment.
"What?" Vivi turned to me, confusion evident on her face. "What do you mean they're not—"
"We've been sailing for a while now," I interrupted, keeping my voice level and analytical.
"If Baroque Works had any strong sea-chasing units in this area, they would have caught up to us already. The ocean isn't that big when you know roughly where your target is heading."
I could see Nami processing this, her navigator's mind working through the logistics. Zoro had turned to face me fully, his interest piqued.
"Then what are they doing?" Sanji asked, his cigarette dangling from his lips.
"If I were in their position," I continued, my mind slipping into that analytical mode that had kept me alive for two years, "I wouldn't waste resources on a sea chase. Not when I already know my target's destination."
I gestured vaguely at the Log Pose on Nami's wrist.
"Nefertari's going to Arabasta. We're following the Log Pose to get there. Which means Baroque Works knows exactly where we're going. So instead of chasing us..."
"They'll set up an ambush," Zoro finished, his expression darkening with understanding.
"Yes," I confirmed. "It's more efficient, gives them the home-field advantage, and lets them choose the time and place of engagement. Basic tactical thinking."
"That's..." Usopp's face had gone pale. "That's actually really smart. And terrifying. But mostly terrifying."
"So you're saying," Nami spoke up, her voice tight, "that when we reach the next island, there's going to be a welcoming committee waiting for us?"
"Most likely," I replied, taking another sip of my coffee. "And not the friendly kind. They'll want to make sure this time—which means sending their best people with as much support as they can mobilize without drawing unwanted attention."
"Oh god," Usopp whimpered. "We're going to die. We're going to sail straight into a trap and die."
"We're not going to die," Luffy said with absolute confidence. "We'll just beat them up like always!"
'That's his solution to everything. Just punch it harder. And the truly terrifying part is that it usually works.'
I turned my attention to Vivi, who was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Now would be a good time," I said directly, "for you to tell us everything you know about the higher-ranking agents in Baroque Works. If we're walking into an ambush, we should at least know what kind of abilities we'll be facing."
Vivi's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. She seemed to be struggling with something—probably the instinct to protect information versus the practical need to prepare her allies.
"You're right," she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. "I should have told you earlier. I just... I was hoping we could avoid direct confrontation with the officer agents."
'Hope is a terrible tactical strategy. But pointing that out right now wouldn't be helpful.'
"We're listening," Zoro said, and I noticed that even Luffy had stopped fidgeting, his attention focused on Vivi with unusual seriousness.
As Vivi began explaining what she knew about the Baroque Works' officer agents—their abilities, their combat styles, their known weaknesses—I found my attention splitting between her words and my fishing rod.
'Might as well be productive while gathering intelligence.'
I channeled Hamon through my hands into the fishing rod, feeling the energy flow down the line and into the water below. The Ripple spread out like invisible sonar, bouncing back information about the underwater environment.
'There, 19 meters down, slightly to the left. A school of decent-sized fish.'
I adjusted my rod's angle subtly, using the Hamon to guide the line with supernatural precision.
The fish didn't stand a chance—my hook found one almost immediately.
TUG!
I reeled it in smoothly while Vivi continued her explanation about Mr. 3's wax powers and Miss Goldenweek's strange abilities.
'Multitasking. The skill of champions. Or at least, the skill of people too paranoid to focus on just one thing at a time.'
SPLASH!
Another fish landed on the deck, and I was vaguely aware of my catch count increasing.
"—and Mr. 2 can transform into anyone he's touched—" Vivi was saying.
'So, they are mostly like the Manga, huh. I don't know if I should be reassured about that, or actually terrified.'
TUG! SPLASH!
Another fish. I was developing a rhythm now, barely paying attention to the physical act of fishing while my Hamon did most of the work.
"—Miss Doublefinger can turn any part of her body into spikes—"
TUG! SPLASH!
'Fishing like this is too easy. Like playing a video game with cheat codes. Though I suppose that's what having supernatural powers basically is—reality's cheat codes.'
It was Luffy who noticed first, his competitive instincts apparently extending to keeping track of everyone else's catches.
"HEY!" he shouted, pointing at my growing pile of fish with an accusatory finger. "Hachiman's cheating! Look how many he's caught!"
'Cheating is such a harsh word. I prefer "utilizing available resources efficiently".'
I blinked, looking down at the small mountain of fish that had accumulated around my position. When had that happened?
"I'm not cheating," I said, keeping my voice as innocent as possible. "I'm just... very good at fishing."
"Liar!" Luffy's eyes narrowed. "Nobody's that good! You're using your magic powers!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied, already reeling in another fish. "Maybe you're just bad at fishing."
"I AM NOT—"
CRACK! BOOM!
The sound of thunder cut through our argument like a guillotine through revolutionary necks. The sky above us, which had been clear and sunny just moments ago, had suddenly transformed into a roiling mass of dark clouds.
'Oh, right. The Grand Line. Where weather patterns follow absolutely no rules and actively try to kill you. How could I forget?'
"STORM!" Nami's voice carried absolute authority as she shouted from the helm. "Everyone, secure the rigging! Drop the sails! Move, move, MOVE!"
The fishing competition was instantly forgotten as we all scrambled into action.
The Going Merry began rocking as waves that hadn't existed thirty seconds ago started pounding against her hull.
WHOOOOSH! SPLASH!
"Nami!" I shouted over the rising wind, controlling a rope to lift me toward the helm. "Which direction?!"
She was frantically checking her instruments, her eyes darting between the Log Pose and the darkening sky.
"There! East-northeast!" she called back. "Thirty degrees starboard! That's the best angle to ride this out!"
'East-northeast. Thirty degrees. Got it.'
"Everyone hold on tight!" I barked, unsheathing the Barbossa sword as I reached the helm.
"HOLD ON!" Luffy shouted from somewhere, his voice barely audible over the wind.
The connection was immediate—I could feel the Going Merry like an extension of my own body, every plank and rope and sail responding to my will through the mystical blade.
I raised the Barbossa sword high above my head, channeling my intent through it with absolute focus.
Then, with a sharp, decisive motion, I swung the sword through the air—
SWOOOOSH!!
—and the Going Merry responded instantly.
The ship turned sharply, her rudder shifting at an angle that should have required multiple people cranking the wheel with all their strength.
Instead, she pivoted smoothly, gracefully, like a dancer responding to music only she could hear.
SPLASH! WHOOOOSH!
We cut through the waves at the exact angle Nami had specified, the ship's bow rising and falling with perfect timing to ride the swells rather than crash through them.
"WHOA!" I heard Luffy's excited shout from somewhere.
Vivi's voice carried genuine shock. "How—how are you doing that?! The ship just moved without anyone touching the wheel!"
"That's Hachiman!" Usopp declared, and I could hear the grin in his voice despite the storm. "The Sorcerer of the East Blue! He can control ships with his magic!"
'Please stop. Please stop calling me that. I have a perfectly good name that doesn't sound like a bad wizard cosplay.'
My face felt hot, and I knew I was blushing despite the cold rain pelting my face. The embarrassment was mixed with the concentration required to keep us alive, creating a cocktail of emotions I really didn't need right now.
"Everyone shut up and get to work!" I barked, channeling my embarrassment into irritation.
"Secure those cannon covers before water gets in! And someone get buckets—we need to bail out the seawater before it floods the deck!"
'There. Give them tasks. Keep them busy so they stop making me feel like a performing circus act.'
"Right!"
"Move you Runts!" Multiple voices responded, and I could hear the scramble of footsteps as my crewmates rushed to follow orders.
THUD! SPLASH! CLANG!
The sounds of cannon covers being secured, buckets being grabbed from storage, water being scooped and thrown overboard.
The crew worked with surprising efficiency, each person knowing their role and executing it without needing detailed instructions.
'Thank God they're competent when they need to be. Or at least, competent enough that we're not immediately dying.'
I maintained my position at the helm, one hand on the wheel for appearances, the other gripping the Barbossa sword as I continued to guide the Going Merry through the tempest with supernatural precision.
The storm intensified around us—rain that felt like tiny hammers, wind that threatened to tear the sails clean off, waves that crashed over the deck with enough force to sweep someone overboard if they weren't careful.
But the Going Merry danced through it all, responding to my every thought through the Barbossa sword's mystical connection. We cut through waves, adjusted angles, and rode swells with precision that would have taken a master helmsman years to achieve.
'This is exhausting. Maintaining this level of focus while also not passing out from the mental strain.'
But well, at least we're not sinking.
CRACK! WHOOOOSH!
Another sharp turn as a particularly large wave approached, and the ship responded perfectly, riding up and over the crest rather than being swamped by it.
The storm raged around us, but inside my focus, everything was clear.
The ship's needs, the ocean's threats, the precise adjustments required to keep us safe—all of it flowing through the blade and into my consciousness like a sixth sense.
'Come on, Merry. I know you're a good ship. Just work with me here.'
[Yes!]
CRACK! BOOM! WHOOOOSH!
The storm reached its peak intensity, and for a moment, I thought we might actually capsize. But the Going Merry held firm, guided by my will through the Barbossa sword, and we crested another massive wave without incident.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the storm began to dissipate.
The clouds thinned, the rain lightened, and the wind calmed to a manageable breeze. Within minutes, the ocean had returned to relative calm, as if the tempest had never existed at all.
"What..." Usopp's voice was shaky as he looked up at the now-clearing sky, a bucket still in his hands. "What just happened?"
"The Grand Line," Nami replied, her voice carrying exhausted resignation as she checked her instruments. "Welcome to the most unpredictable ocean in the world."
I released my grip on the Barbossa sword, feeling the mental strain catch up to me all at once. My legs felt like jelly, my head was pounding, and I had to grip the helm with both hands to keep from stumbling.
'Note to self: controlling a ship through a storm while your crew shouts encouragement is exhausting in ways that have nothing to do with physical effort.'
But that wasn't the end of it.
Over the next several hours, the weather changed with manic frequency.
Clear skies would give way to thunderstorms, which would suddenly shift to fog so thick we could barely see five meters ahead, which would then transform into blazing sunshine that made the deck too hot to touch comfortably.
'It's like the weather is being controlled by someone with severe mood swings and a vendetta against sailors. Or possibly Mother Nature is just drunk. Both explanations seem equally plausible.'
We adapted as best we could—adjusting sails, changing course, securing equipment before it could be swept away. The crew worked with surprising efficiency, each person knowing their role and executing it without needing to be told.
'I have to admit, for a bunch of misfits who met a while ago, we're functioning remarkably well as a unit. That's either a testament to Luffy's leadership or proof that shared danger builds camaraderie faster than any team-building exercise.'
I stayed at the helm for most of it, using the Barbossa sword to guide the Going Merry through whatever the Grand Line decided to throw at us.
It was exhausting to maintain that level of concentration, that constant awareness of the ship's needs and the ocean's threats.
'But at least it keeps my mind occupied. At least I'm not thinking about Robin, or Yukino, or that stupid dream about the smiling boy in the industrial apocalypse.'
The sun was starting to move way beyond its peak when Nami's voice rang out again, but this time with a different tone—not alarm, but something that might have been relief mixed with apprehension.
"Land ahead!"
I looked up from my focus on the helm to see it—a dark shape on the horizon, growing larger as we approached. An island, its outline becoming clearer with each passing minute.
'And there it is. Our next destination. The place where Baroque Works is almost certainly waiting to ambush us.'
Now, how should we go with this?
…
A/N: Alright, That's it for now.
Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed this one!
Feel free to leave a Comment guys! And Powerstones are much much welcomed!
Have a good day people!
You also can check my Patre0n for extra Chapters.
patre0n /ColdColt
There are +14 Chapters there.