Chapter 59: Crocus
The morning after the feast, the Oro Jackson's deck looked like a battlefield. Crew members lay sprawled where they had fallen, groaning, clutching their heads. Nozdon was curled around an empty barrel. Shanks and Buggy, who had snuck more sake than they could handle, were face‑down on the planks, their groans muffled.
Kyle stood at the rail, a fresh cup of juice in his hand, surveying the wreckage. He caught Rayleigh's eye across the deck and raised an eyebrow. Rayleigh's expression was one of long‑suffering patience.
Roger emerged from his cabin, his stride steady, his voice bright. "Up, everyone! We have a destination!"
The crew stirred, grumbling. Jabba pushed himself upright. "Where are we going that's so important it can't wait for the hangover to pass?"
"Twin Capes," Roger said. "We need a doctor."
No one argued. The Oro Jackson raised anchor and sailed, leaving the haze of last night's celebration behind.
---
The approach to Reverse Mountain was a spectacle the crew had seen before, but it never lost its power. The currents that carried ships up the mountain, the rush of water that dropped them into the Grand Line's beginning—it was the gateway to everything. When the ship settled in the calmer waters near the lighthouse at Twin Capes, the crew let out a collective breath.
Rayleigh pointed to the lighthouse standing on the headland. "Crocus. The best doctor on this side of the sea."
Roger was already moving. He leaped from the ship before it had fully stopped, clearing the distance to the shore in a single bound, landing with a thud that shook the ground.
An old man in a floral shirt was watering a flower bed. He turned, startled, water sloshing from his can.
"Old man!" Roger spread his arms, grinning. "I've come to take you on as my ship's doctor!"
On the ship, Jabba choked on his drink. Shanks and Buggy stared, their mouths open. Rayleigh sighed.
Crocus studied Roger for a long moment, then pushed his glasses up. "You're Gol D. Roger. I've heard of you. I'm not interested in pirates. Get off my flower bed."
Roger did not move. "Come with us! We have sake, meat, adventure—"
A deep, mournful cry cut through the air. The sea beside the lighthouse churned, and a massive shape rose from the depths. A whale, its head scarred, its body a mountain of flesh, surfaced with a groan that shook the water.
"What is that?" Buggy's voice cracked.
"Laboon," Rayleigh said quietly. "He's been waiting here for decades. His crew left him to cross the Grand Line and never returned."
Crocus's expression softened. He walked to the shore, reaching out to touch the whale's scarred skin. "You're early today, Laboon. They'll come back. Just a little longer."
The whale made a sound like sorrow, pressing its head against Crocus's hand.
---
While the crew watched the whale, Kyle slipped away. He moved along the shore, around the lighthouse, and waited.
When Crocus finished comforting Laboon and turned to go inside, Kyle was there, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
Crocus stopped. His eyes narrowed. "You're quiet."
"I've had practice."
Crocus studied him, then glanced back at Laboon. "I'm not joining your crew."
"I know." Kyle's voice was calm. "But you've been waiting a long time. For the Rumbar Pirates."
Crocus went still. His hand tightened on his watering can. "How do you know that name?"
"The sea carries memories. Sounds. Light." Kyle raised a hand, a faint ripple of vibration dancing around his fingers. "If you know how to listen, you can hear pieces of what's been lost."
It was not quite a lie. Kyle had heard the story in another life, but Crocus did not need to know that. He needed hope.
Crocus's face was pale. "What happened to them? Are they—"
"I don't know everything. Only that they reached the Grand Line. They faced dangers. But they kept going toward a place they promised to reach." Kyle met Crocus's eyes. "Our captain is a fool. But he will reach the end of the sea. No one else will. If you want the truth about the Rumbar Pirates, he's your best chance."
Crocus was silent. He looked at Laboon, still floating in the water, waiting. He had made a promise decades ago. He had kept it every day since. Now there was a chance to find out what had happened to the men he had seen off.
"I have a condition," Crocus said. "Roger gives me his word. He will find out what happened to them."
Kyle smiled. "I think he'll agree."
---
When Crocus walked onto the Oro Jackson, his medical bag in hand, Roger was still trying to convince the air that he was a reasonable man to sail with.
"Roger," Kyle called.
Roger turned, saw Crocus, and his face split into a grin. "Old man! You changed your mind!"
Crocus did not smile. "I have a condition. You help me find the truth about the Rumbar Pirates. What happened to them, where they went. You give me your word."
Roger did not hesitate. He crossed his arms over his chest, his voice steady. "You have it. Whatever's at the end of this sea, I'll find it. And I'll find your answer."
Crocus studied him. Then, slowly, he nodded. He stepped onto the deck, and the crew erupted in cheers.
---
Later, as the Oro Jackson sailed away from Twin Capes, Kyle stood at the stern, watching the lighthouse shrink on the horizon. Crocus was already below, organizing his supplies, muttering about the state of the ship's medical kit. Laboon's cry followed them for a long time.
Rayleigh joined Kyle at the rail. "You knew about the Rumbar Pirates."
"I'd heard the story."
"And you used it."
Kyle was quiet for a moment. "He needed a reason to leave. And Roger needs a doctor." He looked at Rayleigh. "Sometimes the truth is enough. Sometimes you have to help it along."
Rayleigh did not argue. He only nodded. The Oro Jackson sailed on, and behind them, a whale waited, and an old man began a new journey.
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End of Chapter 59