Chapter 1: Nostalgic Beginnings

It was a beautiful, sunlit day on the high seas of the West Blue. A lone man stood at the front of his ship, The Guppy, staring off into the distance. Adventure awaited him and his crew at their destination; that much was certain, and he smiled in anticipation. Adventure wasn't the life for every man, but this was not your average everyman. Well, not anymore he wasn't.

The man was middle-aged, but still youthful in mind and body. He stood at five feet eleven inches, though he appeared much shorter leaning forward with one leg up on the bow. His skin was a slightly grayed tan, and his features very sharp. What stood out most was his white mustache, which protruded nearly four inches from his upper lip, resembling an upside-down V. His clothing resembled a marine captain's uniform, save that it had been dyed blue, and he wore an admiral's hat with a great big K emblem.

Who was this man, and what was he doing on the high seas? One look at the flag of his ship would tell you all you needed to know. This was Captain Bartholomew K. Runch, pirate of the West Blue. Yes, that's all anybody needed to know, that this was a pirate ship and as such it should be sunk into the ocean along with the entire crew. Yet that flag tells a greater story, one not nearly so cut and dry and far more interesting.

"Captain!" called out the man in the crow's nest. "Marine ship coming in port side!"

"Prepare yourselves then!" the good captain shouted back. "But leave it alone if we can! I prefer smooth sailing for now, so we won't strike first!"

Runch pulled himself away from the bow and forced his gaze on the marine ship. His experienced eye told him one thing for certain: That ship was on a direct course for The Guppy. Damn, and when they were making such great progress!

"Striking first will ensure the final strike," spoke a soft yet strong voice from behind Runch. The captain briefly turned to see a man hanging from the mast by his legs. He wore all black fabric that completely hid his physical features, but he was lean, acrobatic, and strong. He was Smith Smithson Smithington III, ninja warrior, and Runch's first mate.

"That may be true, but I've never let us take a life that didn't have it coming to them. I won't stop that policy now, especially not when we're so close to what we're after."

The captain's policy was a strict one, but he wouldn't need to contemplate breaking it today. The marine ship was in cannon range now, and they were taking fire. BOOM! A single cannonball shot true, the large iron orb trained right for the captain himself.

"Spinning bird!" Smith called out, releasing from the mast. He maintained his position upside-down, but spun through the air with his legs split like a helicopter. His foot brushed against the cannonball, knocking the weapon off-course and into the sea, which splashed upward like a small geyser. Smith fell to the ground, his leg in minor pain.

"Looks like I'll have another flag for my chest after all, Captain."

"Looks like it, Smith," Runch commented, unsheathing his saber by the spoon-shaped hilt. "Crunch Pirates! Attack!"

Shouts of excitement and cries of war permeated the air like a thick fog from both the pirates and the marines. While the crew was thinking about the battle, Runch was thinking about the man at his side, and how loyal Smith was. It all went back to their first meeting, not too long ago…

So hungry… A lone man dressed in all black could only stare up to the clouded blue sky as his body betrayed him. He had already eaten all the food on the ship, and there were no fishing supplies. Hell, there weren't any fish in this area either! The man briefly glanced over toward one of the dead bodies nearby and, only for a nanosecond, considered the possibility.

Smith Smithson Smithington III pondered how he got into the mess he was in. Let's recap, shall we? First, he finished his training at Dusk Island, learning the ways of the ninja. Then he set off to find his lost parents, quite stupidly, in a little dingy. After that, he was picked up on this ship by some marines. So far so good, right? So where did it all go wrong? Ah, yes. Now he could remember. One of the marines tried to touch his necklace. After that a fight broke out, resulting in a whole lot of dead marines, a damaged helm, torn sails, and a clueless Smith that didn't know how to sail a ship to begin with.

The starving man fiddled with his necklace, the offending item that had caused this misery. Yet he felt nothing but pride when staring at the dove on the chain. That's what that fight was about. Pride. It was the only thing he had left from his parents, and that stupid marine wanted to take it as compensation for saving him from drifting the seas on a dingy. Smith pondered his situation and laughed a bit. He had to admit, if he could replay the entire scene, he would have done the exact same thing all over again.

"Oy! Anybody there?!"

Another voice. Smith was getting delirious again. Well he wouldn't answer this one. He just felt stupid last time. No, he figured he'd keep lying there. Fate was bound to work its hand into his life sometime.

"Hello? Seriously, answer me if you're there! Holy strawberries!"

There it was again. This voice was a little more persistent than the other ones, Smith had to give it that. He wondered if that meant he was really going bonkers now. Wait, he heard something else… Footsteps? Ha, now the hallucinations were really picking up!

"Damn, you're alive!"

Ok, no more ignoring. That was right in front of him. Smith opened his eyes to view a middle-aged man right before him. He was squatting and stroking his pointed white mustache, a look of curiosity and concern plastered onto his face.

"So… You look. Er… Great! Yeah! You look great! So what happened here?"

Smith said nothing.

"Well, I can tell you're hungry. I came onto this ship looking for supplies, hoping I might get lucky, but you're more important I'd say. Here, have a bite." The man produced a bowl of cereal from his jacket, complete with spoon, and offered it to Smith. Smith raised himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the side of the ship, and stared at the bowl for a moment. Well, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the-Ah, to Hell with it. He grabbed that baby and scarfed it all down before the man could even see what had happened!

"Well I'll be! I was about to apologize for not having any milk, but you don't rightly seem to care, do you? Say… How'd you eat that without taking that mask off?" The guy was curious, no doubt, but he simply chuckled and sat back, producing another bowl.

"Here, have as much as you like. I can promise you I won't run out. Omnomnom. Anyway, my name is Runch. Bartholomew Runch. Middle name is Kevin, if you can believe it. Lot's of people call me Krunch because of it. That right there is my own recipe, so it warms my heart to see you enjoying it so much. What's your story?"

Smith had finished the bowl before Runch finished speaking himself. He set the bowl down gently, wiped the crumbs off of his mask, and gave a small burp.

"Thank you. My name is Smith Smithson Smithington III, so your name isn't hard to believe." Smith smiled slyly beneath his mask before continuing. "You are an honorable man, and you saved my life. I pledge myself to you. My loyalty and my life are yours to command."

"Oh, no no no, it was nothing, really!" Runch started, throwing his hands up and blushing. "I mean, it's no trouble. You were in a bind and I helped you out! I know how tough some spots can be. I'm in a little trouble with the marines myself…"

"Then you will need my strength," interjected Smith. "We can watch out for each other, my captain."

"Please, you misunderstand the gravity of my situation. I'm not in so much trouble that I need a bodygu-Wait a moment." Runch cut himself off and began stroking his pointed mustache again. "Did you call me 'captain'?"

Smith nodded.

"Om. I actually kind of like the sound of that. Ok, we can travel together, but I want us to be on friendly terms, ok?"

"As you wish, Captain."

"Oh boy. Smith, I don't want you subservient to me. That's not what a friendly relation is abo-Oh screw it. See my ship over there?" Runch gestured off the starboard side of the ship they were on, and Smith looked. He observed a small ship, bearing marine sails and a marine flag. It would have been extremely difficult, possible, but extremely difficult for a single man to sail it.

"You lied to me, Captain," the ninja began, a wide smile hidden behind his mask. "You told me things weren't that bad with you and the marines."

"Yes. Well. Omnom. Um… Let's load any supplies from this ship on over, ok?" Runch was clearly embarrassed to be called out on his little white lie, so he just changed the subject. Smith followed through, and the two loaded supplies for nearly an hour. Finally, they were ready to cast off and leave the damaged ship behind. Smith finished the loading by climbing to the top of the ship he had been stranded on and taking down the flag.

"I'm a collector," he told Runch simply once he observed the man's confused look.

"Right then. Let's set sail, Smith!"

"Aye-aye, Captain Krunch!"

"Omnomnomnom." It's almost like this guy is trying to turn me into a pirate or something! Those were the thoughts than ran through Runch's head as the duo sailed with the wind, setting course for a new destination. But what awaited this strange duo? Adventure lurked on the high seas!