THE SHOE CRISIS

The first time Sabo complained about his clothes in the Revolutionary Army was when he was 15 and Koala was 16. Due to their completely expected growth-spurts, the two young revolutionaries had to change their clothes once every quarter. If it wasn't due to height, it was because of their expanding chests and thighs and hips and everything else they were starting to awkwardly notice about each other, which Sabo would still rudely point out and get a punch or a slap to the cheek in return.

While the Revolutionary Army had a very generous sponsor in providing clothes with a tasteful design in everything secret agent, okama, noble wear, rogue crusader, soldier uniform and everything that would go well in layers, they did not have a sponsor on shoes and were required to purchase or use the second hand sets of them at the supplies center.

Sabo and Koala had a very sturdy pair of boots for themselves during their youth, their size 4s were outgrown and given to those who can fit it… which leaves them with borrowing every boot that they find in the second-hand center.

"Can't we just ask for funds to buy shoes Koala?" Sabo whines as he throws another stinky worn-out pair of shoes away from him. The sole of the boot being ridden with nails, a fact he had to find out the hard way.

"Budget's tight right now Sabo, and Hack said we're likely to outgrow a pair we buy now, so we should just wait it off till we've grown into our bodies after…" she scrunches her nose at the annoying part of their lives she swears she would never talk about again, "…puberty." She says distastefully as she pulls off the ugly worn lace-up brown boots she'd been trying on, only to realize the heel was no longer stuck on tight and there was a hole where the leather should've been stitched on the wooden layer of the heel.

"Koala?" Sabo had asked as she kicked away the boot she was trying, hitting the pile she'd tried and realized were broken badly. Once again searching through the second-hand sets available.

"What?" She'd asked, annoyed.

"What size are your boots now?"

"Ugh, 6.5. I used to be size 4 for goodness sakes. What happened that my feet got so big all of a sudden? -Quit laughing!" She'd scolded Sabo, threw him a boot she didn't need and missed. The terrible aim just another thing he laughed at, along with her predicament. He also had the same problem, but more of the fact that his feet had magically grown to size 8.5, which got him a whole stash of used and worn boots from great revs of the past. Sabo still scrunches his nose, they may be great revs but their shoes stank like sewage.

"I estimate you'd grow into size 9 or 10 by the end of it all." Koala jabs.

Sabo shrugs, questioning how his small feet suddenly became massive and wondering if it was in any way hereditary. Sadly, he remembers nothing of his past, his parents or his birthplace. His mind returns to the present stack of shoes and the predictions of Koala, he finds himself always talking back to her, the needed to have the last words. "And what does that mean for you?" Koala throws the other boot, hitting the blonde squarely on his chest this time. It must have hurt a bit, those boots did have wooden heels. Sabo winces but says a quick apology before he resumes his task of trying on boots for himself.

To answer that question, it would just mean Koala would need a size 7.5 or something by the end of the day. A size that doesn't come so often in the second-hand center. For once in his life, Sabo wished he had a personal fund where he could buy the things he wants, or rather- needs. Or maybe, he can trade for them?

The idea came to him when they had just finished liberating an enslaved nation from their militant dictator. The soldiers of the country were well stocked with good weapons and gear, and the boots the dead soldiers wore were barely used and still good despite the layer of dirt and blood and other things on them.

So Sabo stalks the field of corpses and finds a young man about his age, with boots practically the same size that he needs. The youthful soldier was stabbed in the guts and bled to his death. The blood was sinking into the dusty soil, absorbed by his shirt and pants and thank goodness the boots were still salvageable.

Of course, he wasn't so heartless as to simply take the diseased guy's boots. No, that would be disrespectful and stupid. The guy could haunt him in his sleep and he'd likely die in his slumber if that were truly to happen. Sabo was in no way religious, but still, uncanny things happen in the Grand Line all the time, so it's better safe than sorry to steal from a corpse. It would be no better than grave robbing, and Sabo wasn't so desperate as to steal from the dead.

So he placed his hands together and prayed for the peacefulness of the soldier's soul and asked for his boots. Then after that, took out a peace offering, a broken silver watch he'd obtained from town and made a trade with the dead soldier. His boots for a watch. Simple right?

And Sabo went back to Baltigo with a new pair of boots which he eventually outgrew and donated to the second-hand center. Then the next pair he had were obtained the same way, and the next and many more to come.

Koala's birthday present from Sabo were a pair of expensive looking boots.

Good sturdy brown leather, shiny and polished, high boots that reach just below her knees and sturdy looking laces that looked too high-end for her keeping. She grabbed the smiling boy by the collar and demanded where the fuck did he steal them from.

"Koala, how could you? Accuse me of theft? I didn't steal them! I would never!" She was not convinced. "I traded them with a silk shawl and a golden shawl ring." Sabo explained.

"And where did you say you get the shawl and the gold ring?"

"I may have borrowed them from an un-manned stall." Sabo scratches the back of his head. Ready for the ear-full he'd be receiving from Koala.

"You are Impossible!" The only thing she says as she sighs and lets him go. The blonde takes the little mercy and goes, screaming his happy birthdays and best wishes to his best friend.

Well, she doesn't have to know where exactly he got them from. Rather, who's dead body he literally pulled them off as they were high boots. And he was so lucky that the tyrant princess' face was the only thing that got smashed by the falling debris of her own castle when they attacked. Otherwise, Koala may have thrown the boots right back at him once she sees blood.

"Sabo. What are these?" Dragon asked his soon-to-be second in command. His tone was flat, neutral, not at all accusing; but it's Sabo, and he was ready to hear the story of why they had 15 crates of military boots at their disposal. They were a bit dusty, some second hand and some new, but they were leagues better than the ones at the second-hand center.

"Men's military boots." The blonde answers as he opens another crate and distributes the contents to the young boys still training to become Revolutionary soldiers. The young boys thank him as they return to the barracks where they could try on their new boots. The quality much better and sturdier despite being second hand. Just big enough for them to grow into.

"I can see that. Where did you get them?" The leader asks again.

"Oh, they are… donations"

"Donations…" Dragon raised a brow, not impressed. What devastated, in-need country suddenly had the funding to donate their military boots to the Revolutionary Army? They were still good and useable. They would cost a pretty penny and it was questionable. Something sketchy was going on, and Dragon didn't want to think the boy he was thinking of promoting to Chief of Staff was caught between something he shouldn't be dealing with.

"Donations from the corrupt military kingdom of Jonggula who's whole army was annihilated by our troops the other day. The country who forced all its male citizens to join their armies, killed the ones who they deemed weak, raped its women and neglected their children." Sabo explains. "And who's government spent hundreds of Belli for their military purposes."

Dragon grits his teeth but keeps a stern face. The injustice of it all. He wished he'd been there to crush their kingdom's government instead.

"Right." Dragon leaves, more confident that his cause was the best hope this rotten world had against the World Government and the leaders they assigned and let loose to the people.

Sabo sighs, glad that Dragon didn't pry further. Else he'd find out the story of how Sabo had taken the ill-gotten coins from the Jonggula treasury, melted the coins to make them into jewelry and chains (because its better to reconstitute stolen things) then traded them for the second hand boots of the soldiers crushed by debris and brought them back here specifically for the teenagers to use when they're going through the awkward growing phase.

He really didn't want other people to experience that time he and Koala had taken the whole week scavenging for good boots they could wear. Now he'd just dispose of every worn, torn and irreparable shoes in the center and start collecting more second had boots for the future generations. Even if it means prying them off the feet of cold dead evil men and women.

Author's Notes:

I am back for a short time only. I am busy changing jobs and I'm writing Revs now. So far I've written Ace & WBP, Germa, North Blue boys and now Revs. Tell me if characters are off, or there's something off with spelling and emotions and stuff. I seem to think my stories have no impact whatsoever, and I could use some good criticism right about now.

Anyway, ENJOY! Thanks in advance to my readers, followers, commenting readers, and favoriting readers!