The night had deepened, the moon's glow filtering through the canopy of stars above.
Kiri glanced skyward, the lunar face staring back, and pulled a wry grimace—realizing only now how late it had grown.
Overfocused, perhaps. Meant to loop back sooner, but plans had veered. Wonder what the crew's up to by now? His thoughts drifted.
At his feet, several men lay sprawled in pools of their own blood.
"Damn—time slipped away. Can't rib Luffy or Zoro like this."
Casual mutter as he eyed the Eternal Pose cradled in his palm.
The needle held steady on a single island—prime condition.
Satisfied, he pocketed it; only then did the faint scuff of footsteps register behind him.
A quick turn revealed a tall woman standing there.
Black hair spiked in a sharp, boyish cut that drew the eye first—her height rivaling most men, frame and attire blurring the lines to masculine at a glance. Soft features, but a vague air of vacancy, like she'd wandered off mid-thought, lending her an endearingly absent vibe.
A face he knew well.
Kiri's surprise flickered brief before he called her name.
"Kiri-san."
"Maggy, huh? Long time."
"Uh... yeah."
Her voice fell flat, emotions on mute.
Shoulders hunched despite the stature, a timid curl to her posture that screamed unease.
Kiri didn't bristle at it—instead, a fond chuckle escaped at her unchanged quirks.
Michelle's junior, Anita's senior—the middle of the three sisters, Maggy.
Shy to a fault, social stumbles her specialty. Blush-prone too. Even facing Kiri after ages, her cheeks bloomed pink, bashful as ever. Reassuring, in its way—no shift from the girl he remembered.
Her murmurs stayed hushed, words tumbling soft and sparse; Kiri rose to meet her gaze.
Face-to-face, nostalgia welled unbidden.
"What's got you out here? Ah—Anita tip you off?"
"Um... Michelle-sis was looking... Said invite Kiri-san's crew to the inn."
"Ah—got it. Michelle-san, eh."
"Uh... I'll guide. Follow, if okay?"
"Sure. Bet the gang's already there by now."
She exhaled relief at his easy nod, then led the way. A leap from the two-story rooftop, landing lithe on the street below.
Kiri followed suit, dropping graceful—no scrapes, straight into the throng.
Maggy ahead, Kiri trailing.
He had the route roughed out, but a guide? Why not.
Streetscape scanned mid-stride, fresh reflections stirring.
Errands etched, calm claimed at last. Crew likely synced.
Kiri's tension thawed as he called to her back.
"Nothing changes here. Even from my last swing-by—feels frozen from day one. Good? Bad? Jury's out."
"Everyone just... living their way."
"Yeah. You three too, back then."
"Uh... well... Michelle-sis..."
"Still the same? Chatted a bit with Anita."
"Yeah, mostly. But... Anita missed you."
The street's din dulled her whisper, but it landed clear.
Kiri scratched his cheek, a touch sheepish—half-expected.
"Figured. Knew it, deep down."
"I... don't get it fully. Why... back to pirates?"
"Detoured East Blue. Thought I was done—but ran into that captain."
"So... him the trigger?"
A plain nod.
"Feels lighter now. Small stuff, but it helped. Grateful big-time."
"So... sailing with him..."
"Yeah—wants Pirate King? Says solo's no-go, nags non-stop. Wore me down fair and square."
Maggy half-turned, scanning his face.
He smiled back—worlds from their last meet.
Such a shift from scraps? Her blank mask cracked faint—impressed, maybe.
"Sailing again, huh."
"Yeah. Laugh Tale this round."
"Oh..."
Confidence colossal—she swallowed it down.
Recall: bold blurts from Kiri? Rare vintage.
Kid-era? Gut-pure, easy read. Then Velvet's wipeout whispers hit; re-emerge? Elusive echo, self-shielded.
Maggy and Michelle? Stunned then.
Gap-grief? Guessed grim.
But now—this line? Echoed that lost kid.
Her hush hung; silence strolled companionable.
Nostalgia-nursed lanes, Kiri ambled airy—no distractions, straight-shot.
Dull drift? Nah—for them, no drag.
Slope steepened, hill-hike vibe—inn itched recall.
But Kiri held back—no lead, no nudge. Maggy's marshal now.
No rush-rush roof—chill claim.
Ten minutes ticked; target touched.
Hillside hug: Western manor mimic, inn sprawl.
Maggy door-dipped first; Kiri tailed.
Instant: clatter chaos—Michelle inbound, tray teetering tower-high with plates.
Dash-dazed, blind to them—kitchen quest, likely.
Kiri's chuckle bubbled at the bustle.
Maggy's mild murmur aimed to halt.
"Ah—swamped, swamped! Gotta hustle!"
"Um... Sis..."
"Oh? Maggy-chan? When'd you—"
Brake-burst: clank-cascade teetered—miracle mid-air, plates perched.
Michelle's eyes zipped: duo-dodge.
Instant: joy-jolt, grin galaxy-wide.
"Ahh~ Kiri-chaaan!"
"Hey. Been ages."
"Oh my, where've you been~? We worried sick! Back to pirating, huh?"
"Twists and turns. Long story."
"Sis... plates... wobbly..."
Every twitch? Tinkle peril—crash cusp. Kiri wry; Maggy mid-lean fret.
Endgame: Michelle offloaded half—duo-duty divvied.
Bubbly Michelle buzzed chat-hungry, but haste hemmed her.
Empty expanse eyed: kitchen cue.
Kiri cut in first.
"Plenty plot later."
"Right then—dining hall thataway. Gang's gathered—war zone eats. Oh, Maggy-chan—pitch in"
"Uh-huh."
"Kiri-chan, daily grind's killer, huh."
"Haha. Keeps it fun."
Her sunny beam? Shock-stutter.
Pure-peel grin—facade-free.
Scrap-sparked such sea-change? Michelle's hush hummed soft: "Good..."
"You look... happy now, Kiri-chan."
"Happy? Peak."
"Yeah... That's... my fave you."
Giggle-gush; Kiri's shrug squirmed slight—itchy intimacy.
Maggy mid-mull: brow-bent, blank on the bond—but duo done? Content, quiet.
Michelle heel-spin, bounce-bound.
"C'mon, Maggy-chan! Hustle calls~"
"U-Um... okay."
"Later, Kiri-chan! Spill when settled~"
"Wilco~"
Waved off; entrance echo, solo stance.
Duo dissolved; Kiri stirred.
Hall hinted: holler-harmony—yells, yaps, clink-clatter; chair-crash, plate-ping—soundstorm symphony.
Stun-scale bedlam.
Gawk-glum? Maybe. But crew's cheer? Kiri lingered lintel, gaze grazing the glee.
Long slab central: chair-circuit crewed.
Plates piled peril—perch precarious, but peckish persisted.
Ruckus root? Luffy, loud.
Endless edibles elbowed; arms a-sprawl, maw mega-stuffed—crude king, chow-obsessed. Usual suspect, but appetite? Abyss.
Collateral? Cue Usopp's yelp.
"Oi, Luffy?! Snagged my plate again! Hit your hoard—plenty! Or own damn dish!"
"Nngh—nom!"
"Whoa—spray alert?!"
Usopp gripe; Luffy's retort? Crumb-cannon.
Duo's dust-up? Dinner default—din dialed up.
Long-haul? Luffy's larceny lured Zoro's ire—fork-fork fork in steak-road.
Luffy lunge-lift; Zoro stab-stall—tug-of-war torque.
Glower-gnash: Zoro's glare grudge-deep.
Luffy? Lockjaw lunge—meat-mad max.
"You think you snag every time...?!"
"Nngaa!"
"Drop it! You've gorged—!"
"Go—now's gap! Stuff max or...!"
Luffy-Zoro lock? Usopp's feast-frenzy free-for-all.
Warzone whimsy—wry Kiri's lip quirked.
No fret for the fray—drift gaze fresh.
Table turf: tranquil trio—Nami, Silk, Vivi vibe-locked.
Man-madness muted; meals mellow, mostly.
"Idiots... Can't they chill once?"
"Um... no stop?"
"Fine, Vivi—normcore. We're vets; they thrive on it."
"Y-Yeah... Karoo—easy. Plenty left~"
Calm current, but splash sporadic—crumb-cascade? Nami's noodle-knock on Luffy's noggin. No dent, no dent.
Silk's simper soft—stop? Nah.
Vivi? Karoo chaos—fret-fodder, feed-fuss.
Dine-din? Deafening.
Bird's-eye? Bizarre bloom clear.
Room-riff: service swarm—sisters scurry.
Plates plundered prompt; refills rushed—chop-churn, serve-sprint: full-tilt tango. Their toil? Tear-jerk tender.
Kiri? Chuckle-charmed.
Linger lone: fresh feast, flavor savored.
Old crew? Over. New? Norm now—chest swell, pirate-port proud.
Loiter lured footfall: Sanji's siren.
Wheel: plate-pinnacle perch—hands head-high, tray-tote aid.
Igraham trailed, twin-task.
Kiri's pop-up? Shock-stutter—second-snap: sunny sync.
Kiri's beam bounced back.
"Oi, Kiri—where'd you ghost? Chow's vanishing."
"Same old storm here. Kinda crushed."
"You say that. Usually you're in the thick. Here—scarf before scraps."
"Cheers."
"Man... pirate feast frenzy... Vivi-sama fits it wild."
"Beauties blend quick."
"Link?"
"Yep."
Quip-quick quartet; room-rush.
Crew cue: chaos crested—Kiri clocked.
Reactions raw: Luffy limb-lift whoop—chew-choked. Usopp, Zoro? Gap-grab gorge—guzzle gala. Nami's nope-nod sigh; Silk, Vivi simper-sync.
Fun flock.
Hand-half; Sanji, Igraham service-solo—Kiri claimed closest empty.
"Kiri! Where ya been?! Nngh—earlier, your pal—"
"Story later—chow or chat, pick."
"Nn—baff!"
"Sigh."
Kiri's wry wedged nearest nook; meal mid-munch.
Luffy's loot-lunge lingered—scuffle sequel, but Kiri's carve calm: portion pinched, prompt plate-to-palate.
Pre-Vivi perch: Sanji's serve-swoop, dish-drop dialogue.
Vivi's vague vibe? No rejection—embrace edging.
"Easy, Vivi-chan? Clowns too loud? Kick 'em clear?"
"N-No... wild... this your every-eat?"
"Captain's chaos curse. We're numb; no gripes. Nami-san, Silk-chan coast; you'll acclimate."
"Y-Yeah..."
Raw roar, sure—unheard-of uproar. But joiners? Joy-jam, servers synced—no strain, all spark. Luffy's lure? Or crew's charm? Contagion clear.
Freedom's fire: raw react, ripple radiant. Room rethink: right-here revelation.
"Worried for home? Fair. But lean a load—light lift, we'll lug."
"Eh?"
"Crew call, that."
Cig-skip smile: soft, sure.
Vivi's void-vocab: stun-stall.
Echoes: Luffy's lift, Nami's nudge—now clicked.
Yell-youth: holler, hustle, horseplay.
Beam-bicker: scowl, snatch, squabble.
Kids? Nah—pure pulse, peer-plenty.
Puzzle pieced.
Crew cue: chill-chin, life's load light.
Country care? Core. But breathe buffer?
Their unbridled? Unlock lesson—now.
Vivi's simper sparked: banquet browse, burden banished.
Kiri caught the shift—slight, soft; gaze dipped, gears turned.
Sanji's skirt-chaser schtick? Soft-sap myth. Dame-deep: true-sight sharp—lost? Lead; low? Lift; low? Laugh.
Blunt-boner slips? Spice, sure.
Brainy balm, crew's court—gent prime, rock-steady.
Vivi's thaw? His hawk-eye hit first.
Man-moxie monopoly? Nah—his niche nailed.
Kiri's nod nicked Sanji's smug: gotcha-glow, like Vivi-vie victor.
Jealous jab? Gut-punch.
Flaw fatal? Fix-fail.
Kiri's wry resumed: fork-flick, focus fresh.
"Am I pirate now, ship-sailed?"
"Yup. No royals round. Queen-crown calls eventual—but now? Crew cutthroat. Bend a rule? No big."
"Um... I'm here, though..."
"Queh."
Vivi's vow-veil: dip determined.
Sanji's shoulder-shove? Igraham, Karoo kvetch-cue—deaf, maybe.
Snap-up: swarm scan.
Chair-chuck; Nami, Silk stun-skip—fray-front.
Luffy's lunge-larceny? Usopp, Zoro zero-zip—escalate eclipse.
Vivi vaulted vortex.
Beam-burst: Luffy tag—name-nudge.
"Luffy-san!"
"Hm? Wha—?"
"Ei!"
Guts-grip: bone-in bounty—bone-jack.
Luffy's ledge-lift: mega-munch marooned.
Kid-kidnap stun: eyes eclipse—chomp-choked wail. Twin: Igraham's bellow-blast.
"Aaah~?! M-My pi—wha the—?!"
"Vivi-samaaa~?! Such unseemly—!"
"Ehe... crew code, right?"
"Yesss—go Vivi! Storm the gates! Turnabout~!"
"Oi... you too...?"
Zoro's zilch-zinger; Usopp's upfront up—coach-cry.
Luffy lone? Lockdown lunch.
Vivi-Usopp vice? Plate-pirate pact. Zoro? Vendetta vibe, occasional assist. Igraham? Halt-hysteria. Luffy? Load-lunge lockdown—uproar uptick.
Shock-spark: seconds stalled. Nami, Silk simper-set—watchful warm. Sanji? Slack-jaw swoon.
Pirate pure: perfect pitch.
Vivi's frolic? Flawless—Igraham ire isolated.
Joy-jolt jaunt? Gift grim.
Infil-ink: lone-lurk, foe-faux—kingdom-kill sole spark. Igraham anchor? Ache alone.
That beam? Bare soul.
Kiri's Sanji-scan: fork-paused, praise plain.
"Nice glow-up."
"Fool—she's gold always. Cute, cute, graceful~"
"Haha. True. But that one's brighter. Forced smiles? Fade."
"Alert's earned. But proximity? Power seeps."
"Helps heaps, then."
"You owe her too? Trust-trail, then."
"Eh—steady as she goes. Long haul ahead."
Ease eased Kiri; chow-chase resumed.
Luffy's holler, Vivi's whoop, Usopp's yelp, Igraham's yowl—ear-candy odd, symphony skin-deep.
Tune trumped any—face free.
Pre-fork flick: final feast-frame.
Then: tackle-torrent.
"You!!"
"Huh?"
Right-flank fling: arm-lock lash.
Impact instant: chair-crash cascade—trapped tangle.
Kiri's keel-over clueless: crown? Teary-eyed tangle.
Baby 5—fresh-fled flirt.
Zoro-guide gig post? Part presumed. Wrong.
She clung crush-close—sad-joy swirl, squeeze seismic.
Cheek-nuzzle nestle: lover's lock, lewd lens.
But words? Weightier—whisper-wail, woe woven.
Doom dawned then.
"How could you~? 'Meet after—promise'—liar!"
"Y-You... that tag? Tangle-risk... see, mix-up magnet."
"Why? You need me~! Anything—life's light if yours. First time... craved so hard... ♡"
"N-No-no—twist-tongue trap! Not here—tone it—"
Sweat-slick stun; sweat-slicker sink.
Peel-ploy? Pipe-dream—slender snare vice-tight, gender-gulf gaped. Panic peaked; room-rift raw—prickle painful.
Hall hush-hammered.
Nami, Silk sans-swoon? Fair. But Luffy's lunge-lock, Vivi's veer, Usopp's uproar? Stilled stark—floor-flung duo drilled.
Zoro? Head-hug hunker—sigh seismic.
Beast blank? Karoo cue-clammed—statue-still.
Worse: Sanji's slump—shadow-sour, fury-fume.
No noun, but nope-nuke clear.
Kiri's clasp-crush? Crisis cue—Baby's back-bend, arm-arc amp.
"Kiri, you bastard...! Where the hell—?! Prepping port, you play Casanova solo?! Golllly~!!"
"Eh... yeah, tracks."
"Hauu... crushed so close that needy... ♡"
Sanji's siren-snarl sparked storm.
Who? How? What-went-where? Query-quake quizzed Kiri—wilt-weary, where-start whirl.
Zoro zilch-zinger? Zilch. Rare rut: reply-rut.
Rumpus redux—flavor fresh; service sisters stun-stutter.
Inn's innards: uproar unbound—chow-choke chorus.
Hand-halt horde: sisters snag breath—bliss brief.
Entry-edge: Anita anchored, awe-absorbed.
Rage-riff, fluster-flux, tease-tickle, laugh-lilt.
Kiri kaleidoscope: grin gala—soft, sly, slack, but near.
Not the far-flit fog.
Maggy, Michelle mid-flank.
Kiri-cue? Cool-calm, what-wonder whirl. Guess-gut? Group grok—sibs synced, scene-scan.
"Kiri-nii... lit up."
"Uh-huh."
"Stuff happened. Trek-talk tons."
"Quit-pirate pledge..."
"Rescue-root. Captain-cure, he said."
"Him?"
"Skipper-san."
Maggy's musing met Luffy's lens.
Bliss-blur beam: shock-snap, ire-ink, chuckle-churn—busy-bloom.
Why him? Whirl no.
Anita's ache-angle: groan-gut faint.
"Weird... Kiri-nii's oddball."
"Yeah. That's peak him."
"Uh-huh."
Michelle's midriff-meld: Anita arm-lock. Maggy's mitt mid-shoulder.
Weird whirl. Enigma ensemble.
But nix? Nah—nag nixed.
"Spill later. Service first~"
"Yee~"
"Bath blah blah blah..."
"C'mon, crew—hustle! Tri-sis... fight, oh~!"
Michelle's mitt-missile: fist-flare fierce—echo echo, squad-stir.
Hired help? Sure—but trust-trio core: collab crush-crew. Michelle's motto.
Guest-gabble? Gals galore—giddy grind, tempo-twist task-trek.
Meanwhile: mess mega-munch.
Usual twist, usual true—pace pure. Sanji's snarl? Nami nix. Fresh fuss? Fellow-fueled.
"Outside, Kiri~! Polish that player poise!"
"Nah... Sanji-say? Skip."
"Quit it, Sanji-kun. Envy's ugly~"
"Right, Nami-san~ Got you... ♡"
"Not that—twist off."
"Oi, Kiri—no cap-cue sans-skipper say-so. Ship-skipper's me—Merry's mine!"
"Nuh-uh—nuptuals nix."
"Eh~?! No tie?!"
"Shock-spot? No such spill..."
"No wed?!"
"Wedding when~!"
"No solo-say... haa. Spill slow, one sec."
Verdict vague—victuals voided.
Chaos clung—query-quake clung.
Dawn due? Dusk drags—night nectar, endless.
--------------------------
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