When the village chief offered him the Devil Fruit, Hata Akira's heart surged. After careful thought, he decided to eat it.
He'd refused Monkey D. Luffy earlier for one reason: he was weak. If he sailed now, he'd only drag the crew down.
But with a Devil Fruit, even if his strength didn't skyrocket overnight, his future ceiling would. A fruit's power depended on the user's training—and Akira had grit.
When the chief finally produced it, Akira saw, for the first time, the so-called demon of the sea made flesh.
"Go on. Eat."
The bent old chief smiled and handed it over.
"What kind of ability does it have?"
In the moonlit dark, the fruit felt startlingly weightless in Akira's palm, almost without substance. Black skin drank the light and threw it back as a faint white sheen.
"I don't know the details," the chief said after a cough, "but the one who entrusted it to me said this fruit is… unusual."
Unusual. That fit. If it were ordinary, Silvers Rayleigh wouldn't have come all the way to the East Blue just to deal with it.
Akira had already pumped the chief for details earlier; matched against the description, the man had to be Rayleigh.
He drew a breath and bit down hard.
The taste was vile—easily the worst thing he had ever put in his mouth. His stomach lurched. He forced himself to swallow.
"What are you two doing?"
Luffy's voice cut in just as Akira gulped.
"Huh? That's a Devil Fruit, right? They taste awful. You didn't have to hide to eat it. I wouldn't fight you for it."
Spotting the missing bite, Luffy's interest faded like a tide going out.
So that's what you thought—that we were sneaking off to eat something delicious.
"You ate it?"
Luffy plucked the fruit and blinked. "Weird. I can't feel any weight at all. Not like the one I ate."
"I feel weird too. I don't feel… anything."
Akira watched, speechless, as Luffy tossed the fruit up and batted it across with a stretched arm, turning a legendary treasure into a ball.
When he reached to snag it back, a sudden gust swept the air. WHOOSH! The featherlight fruit sailed off and vanished into the night.
"Sorry!"
Akira stared after it and swallowed. Thank goodness he'd taken the first bite—otherwise Luffy would have literally played it into oblivion.
But his worry coiled tight again. No change. Was it fake? There were three types of Devil Fruits—Paramecia, Zoan, and Logia. Usually, the body told you which within minutes.
Five full minutes later, nothing.
"Why the long face? Everyone's partying. Come on!"
Luffy hooked Akira by the wrist and towed him back into the firelit crowd. The feast raged at full burn. Laughter rose like sparks. Against that warmth, his mood eased a notch.
Not far away, the chief watched, murmuring to himself, "Rayleigh… you never thought I'd pass it on so soon. Our time is gone. The days of sailing with Roger feel like yesterday."
His hunched back seemed to straighten. A tempered vigor rose off him as his small eyes fixed on Akira. "Boy, the fruit you ate is the most exceptional of the Paramecia. It's called the Growth Fruit. How far it goes depends on you."
Then the old shape returned. He leaned on his cane and shuffled home.
The banquet lasted past three in the morning. Since coming to this world, Akira had never cut loose like this.
With Luffy around, it was impossible not to.
When it ended, Akira didn't bother returning to his room. He stretched out on the ground with the others and slept.
Villagers lay strewn everywhere, smiles still faint on their faces even in sleep.
Luffy's snores buzzed beside him. Joy ebbed. Quiet came in with the tide.
SIGH.
Akira stared up at the crescent moon. He'd eaten the fruit, but he still didn't know his ability.
How was he supposed to train toward a target he couldn't see?
Luffy rolled over. A foot landed squarely on Akira's stomach.
This guy sleeps like a disaster.
A moment later, pressure cinched his ribs. He couldn't move.
Luffy had wrapped both arms around him, drooling even in dreams. "Meat… don't run," he mumbled.
Akira went rigid.
You ate a mountain of meat—how are you still dreaming about it? Is your stomach rubber, too?
By his estimate, Luffy had put away a hundred kilos at least. And still he wasn't satisfied.
Also, let go. With those arms stretched like that, anyone would get the wrong idea.
Lucky me—the first person to get this close after I came to this world wasn't a beauty. It was Luffy.
So the two of them "slept in each other's arms."
Dawn paled the horizon. Akira hadn't slept a wink.
One thought told him to forget everything and go. The other warned he wasn't strong enough and would just hold everyone back.
A man should be decisive. If you can, do it. If you can't, let it go.
He knew that. But this choice could change his life—one of those forks in the road you only get once.
It felt like filling in a college application back on Earth. Pick wrong, and you'd lose your mind second-guessing.
Damn it.
The sky lightened. The sun neared the rim of the sea. Akira clenched his jaw.
He'd been ordinary once. Did he come to this world just to live the same lukewarm life?
No. Change.
He'd met Luffy, and Luffy had asked him aboard. Was he really so afraid he couldn't even take the first step?
He'd eaten the fruit. He wasn't the same anymore. The ability would come. He'd figure it out.
If he wasn't strong enough, he'd train—like fishing. He'd started with nothing and became one of the best in the village, didn't he?
I can do this.
What—stay and become the village chief someday? That wasn't the dream.
Resolve kindled. The doubt drained from his face. In its place, a steady light gathered in his eyes—the look of someone who had chosen a direction and would walk it, no matter what.
The chubby fisherman shuffled by, half-awake, and caught a glimpse of that fire. He flinched so hard he nearly peed on his feet.
Half an hour later, Luffy yawned awake. Villagers stirred and rubbed their eyes.
"Morning already. You'll come with me, right?"
He set the straw hat on his head and stretched.
Akira smiled and nodded.
"I knew you wouldn't say no!" Luffy laughed.
"You're awake," the chief said, tapping his cane as he approached. "I've prepared a new boat. You can leave at once."
"Thanks! The feast, and now a boat!" Luffy beamed.
The chief waved them along toward the harbor.
Akira said his goodbyes one by one. Some begged him to stay; he declined with a smile.
When the chubby man heard Akira was setting sail with the hat-wearing lunatic who claimed he'd be Pirate King, he wailed like a widow.
Akira moved in for a farewell hug—only for the man to dodge, face strange. "No need. Be careful out there. It's not peaceful beyond these waters. One slip and you're done. I don't want to hear bad news."
If only you knew: last night you misread everything.
After waves and waves, they reached the pier.
Luffy had already hopped into the small fishing boat when a stretched arm snapped out.
Akira's gut tightened. Before he could protest, Luffy's hand clamped his collar.
WHOOSH! He flew. In the next blink he was aboard.
Unfortunately, momentum did the rest. SLAM! His back hit the mast hard enough to see stars.
"Brothers—set sail!"
Half sprawled on the deck, Akira watched Luffy plant his feet at the bow and throw both arms up, voice ringing.
Someday, I'm getting you back for that. Good thing my spine's still in one piece.