The siren finally died.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not with applause or heroic music.
Just silence… and smoke.
I leaned against the fire truck, helmet dangling from my fingers, lungs still burning. The building behind me was half-charred, half-standing—like it couldn't decide whether to survive or give up.
Another fire.
Another "good job."
Another day I somehow walked away alive.
"Shift's over," my co-workers said.
I nodded, too tired to reply.
The road home was quiet.
Too quiet.
Streetlights flickered like they were bored of existing. My jacket smelled of ash and sweat. Every muscle ached, but my mind was empty—finally.
I crossed the road, hands shoved in my pockets, thinking about nothing important.
And then—
SCREEEEEE—
A sound so wrong it froze my spine.
I turned.
Headlights.
Too close.
Too fast.
"—HUH?!"
The truck swerved wildly. Brakes screamed, metal cried, sparks flew. For a split second, I saw the driver's face—wide eyes, pure panic.
The brakes had failed.
The driver reacted instantly.
He jumped.
The truck didn't stop.
BAAAM!
The world exploded into pain as the truck slammed into me, my body crushed between cold metal and a concrete wall. Air punched out of my lungs. My vision shattered into white noise.
Everything hurt.
Everything burned.
But I was alive.
Somehow… I was still alive.
Fuel dripped.
I smelled it before I saw it.
Gasoline pooled beneath the wreckage, leaking from the torn belly of the truck, spreading like a dark stain toward my legs.
"No… no no no…"
My body screamed, but my mind screamed louder.
I clawed at the ground, nails scraping asphalt, dragging myself inch by inch away from the wreck. My arms shook. My vision blurred. Blood smeared beneath me.
But I was moving.
"I'm… not dying… like this…" I gasped.
I almost laughed.
I was almost free.
Then I heard it.
A soft sound.
A tiny sound.
tch.
I turned my head.
The driver's cigarette—
still burning—
slipped from the wreck…
rolling…
rolling...
Straight into the fuel.
Time slowed.
"No—WAIT—"
I reached out.
Too slow.
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
Heat swallowed everything.
Fire tore through my body, slammed me back into the wall, ripped the air from my chest. Pain didn't even register properly—it was too fast, too absolute.
The world became light.
Then noise.
Then nothing.
As consciousness faded, one thought clawed its way up from the darkness.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Just a childish, stupid wish.
"I don't want to die yet…"
"At least… at least let me see what exactly is One Piece…"
The fire answered with silence.
And everything went black.
___
When I opened my eyes, the world was… wrong.
Not bad wrong.
Not nightmare wrong.
Wrong in the most delicious, unreal, I've-fallen-into-my-favorite-anime kind of way.
The sky was too blue.
The grass too green.
The air too clean.
It felt fake—like someone had cranked the saturation slider to maximum.
And then I noticed the people.
No… not people.
Humanoid figures with fur-covered arms, twitching ears, tails swaying behind them. Eyes bright and sharp, like polished gemstones catching the sun.
My breath hitched.
"Whaaaaat…?" I whispered, staggering back a step. My heart began to race. "No… no no no… this… this can't be real…"
And then I saw her.
White short hair. Long ears. A familiar grin.
Carrot.
My brain blue-screened.
"No. Way," I breathed.
Before I could stop myself, the words spilled out. "Uh—your name's… Carrot?"
Her ears twitched instantly. Her expression sharpened, tail stiffening.
"Yeah," she said slowly.
"But… who are you?"
"I—uh—Ash. I think? Traveler? Visitor? Definitely not a threat?"
Inside my head, absolute chaos erupted.
I am literally in One Piece.
I am actually here.
THIS IS REAL.
I— I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW—
My chest tightened. My vision blurred. I laughed.
Like… genuinely laughed.
A loud, unhinged, joy-filled laugh.
"Oh my god—this is insane—this is actually happening—HAHA—"
That was when I noticed it.
A translucent blue screen hovered in front of my eyes, gently flickering like a hologram.
I didn't even read it.
Didn't register it.
I was too busy losing my mind.
The air shifted.
A chill ran down my spine.
Footsteps. Dozens of them.
I turned—and froze.
Minks surrounded me from every direction.
Weapons raised. Eyes narrowed. Expressions cold.
Whispers spread through them like wildfire.
"…That face…"
"…How disgusting…"
"…Is this some kind of mockery?"
"…Ace…?"
My laughter died instantly.
"Oh no," I croaked. "Ohhh no no no—why does this happening to me?!"
Before I could take another breath, ropes flew. Nets wrapped around my arms and legs. Hands grabbed me, rough and fast.
"Wait—WAIT! I'm Ash! I'm friendly! I swear—!"
No one listened.
As they hoisted me into the air, I caught fragments of their murmurs.
"…That face…"
"…How cruel…"
"…Roger's son…"
Their whispers crawled under my skin.
"What face?" I muttered. "What are you talking about…?"
No one answered me.
Instead, they stared.
Like they were looking at a ghost.
My chest tightened.
"Hey—stop looking at me like that," I said, forcing a laugh. "Did I grow horns or something?"
I turned away, desperate for anything—anything—to ground myself.
That's when I saw it.
A reflection.
Not a mirror—just the window of a nearby house, catching the sunlight at the right angle.
My shadow stretched across it… and so did my face.
I froze.
Slowly, trembling, I stepped closer.
And the world stopped.
Freckles.
Black hair.
That face.
"No…" I whispered.
The boy staring back at me wasn't me.
It was Portgas D. Ace.
My breath hitched violently.
"This… this isn't funny," I murmured, touching my cheek.
The reflection copied me perfectly.
Same scarless skin.
Same sharp eyes.
Same familiar smile I'd seen burn across Marineford.
My chest felt tight.
"…No way," I whispered.
A laugh slipped out.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
"Hah… hahah…"
I covered my mouth, but it wouldn't stop.
"This is… this is actually happening?"
I muttered. "Out of everyone… out of every character…"
My shoulders shook.
"I get reincarnated… and it's him?"
I looked up suddenly, eyes wild, and grabbed the sleeve of the nearest Mink.
"Hey," I blurted, voice shaking. "Just—just tell me one thing."
He stiffened.
"Is Whitebeard alive?" I asked. "And Ace… is Ace alive?"
The air froze.
The Minks went completely still.
Slowly, the one I'd grabbed pulled his arm away, eyes narrowing like I'd committed some unforgivable sin.
"…So you really are mocking the dead," he said coldly.
"You wear his face… and dare speak his name?"
My stomach dropped.
The laugh cracked into something ugly.
"You're kidding me," I breathed. "You give me Ace's face… in the one world where Ace dies?"
My vision blurred.
"I admired you," I whispered. "You were my favorite… you were the one I cried over…"
Another laugh burst out—sharp, broken.
"And now I'm wearing your face like a curse."
That was when the Minks stepped back.
Not because I attacked them.
But because the boy in front of them—
laughing with Ace's face—
looked completely unhinged.
Hands slammed cuffs around my wrists.
That's when it hit me.
The panick attack faded.
Reality crashed back in.
The blue screen flickered again in the corner of my vision—but before I could focus, a blindfold slipped over my eyes.
Ear puffs pressed in, muting the world.
Darkness.
Silence
My blood ran cold.
"What? Spy? Dead man?" My voice cracked. "I'm not him! I'm Ash! I swear—my face just—looks like his! I didn't know!"
Silence answered me.
The kind that presses on your chest.
Eventually, they moved.
Dragged me away.
Jail.
Night fell.
A guard brought food.
I talked.
And talked.
And talked.
Anything to stay sane.
Then… I tried.
With my handcuffed hands.
Heart racing.
"If I have his face...what else did I inherit?"
"Flame-Flame Fruit… please… just a spark…"
Nothing.
Not even warmth.
"I have his face," I whispered, voice breaking. "But not his power…?"
I collapsed.
__
Morning.
They led me outside.
Sunlight burned my eyes.
I bowed my head. "Thank you… for… not killing me."
Then, quietly:
"Can I… at least… have a ship?"
They didn't answer.
They threw me.
"Bruhhhhhhh...."
"I'm powerless, famous by face alone, spy for minks and now I'm goinggg to dieee againnn"