Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece and anything pertaining to it. I do however own my love for this series though (And my OC I guess?)

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"Though a bird cannot fly, it does not mean it never will."

Eiichiro Oda

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Birth can be both a terrifying and beautiful thing. It's not something Kimberley Gaines herself would say is beautiful sight to see because a woman is basically pushing a baby out of her vagina, but many have claimed it to be something worth seeing. Don't get Kimberley wrong, she has after all given birth to four beautiful children… it's just that the process in doing so wasn't something Kimberley likes experiencing.

So even though the birthing process is rather terrifying, what emerges from it is beautiful.

That's what Kimberley wants to remember but having to experience being the one being born wasn't something that has those thoughts at the forefront of the woman's mind.

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It was something my youngest had explained to me; babies couldn't see bat shit for the first few weeks of their lives – or that's how long it feels like. They were also sensitive to the light and anything that touched them.

"Babies are also very sensitive to sound too. Large bangs and so on can startle them into crying - which is another thing, their emotions are very high and unpredictable."

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes as the figure that held me tried to prevent the onslaught of crying that would have started any moment then.

Whatever large banging sound that had woken me up just a few minutes prior did not sound again, and so I had tried my utmost best not to give the woman any more trouble for the day.

The supposed woman, as you have guessed it, is my mother. A rather kind and soft woman at that, who smelt of sunflowers and something sweet that I couldn't pinpoint. Due to my terrible vision, I couldn't exactly make out her face, but I did know she had dark hair and large breasts that she shoves into my face every Godforsaken time to feed me.

She spoke often to me in a manner that I can relate to as the tone used to form conversations with your newborns. It was something I often did with my own children when they were small, and they would have usually giggled or smiled at it. Unfortunately, I was not in the mood to smile or even try to understand what the woman tried to tell me. I wasn't in the mood ever since I found out what exactly happened to me after my supposed death.

I don't think any of you could have really blame me either.

How does one get over the fact that their life has ended and that they now have to deal with the fact that they have a new one? That they basically must forget about that life and move on? Make themselves happy with this new family?

Let me tell you youngsters - you never do.

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My father of before was a kind man of Portuguese descent. He liked to tell war stories and liked reading mystery novels – much like myself. There was honestly a time when I had wanted to be a detective, and he had laughed and ruffled my curls when I had told him such.

"You can be anything you want to be, Kimmy. As long as you put your mind to it."

He died when I had only been fourteen, leaving me with my mother and siblings.

I remember his kind smile even now because it reminds me so much of my father of now.

My vision began to get clearer after what felt like forever, and the first things I looked for were my supposed new parents' faces. I was rather curious as to how they looked and maybe get an idea of what I might look like soon.

The first thing I noticed was both were of Asian descent, so that might explain why they spoke no English and where I might be in the world. The second thing I noticed was my mother's beauty. Her black hair is cut short and frames her oval face perfectly while her almond shaped eyes are a brown color that was not too dark nor too light. Plumb lips are pressed into a warm smile before they form an 'o' shape as she begins to coo softly to me.

Okay, I know who I want look like when I get older.

My father as I explained earlier has a smile that reminds me of my father from my life of before. Not only that, but it seems like he never stops smiling and his eyes are forever closed – something that leaves me wondering how he even sees. The fact that he wears circular glasses must help him.

There's nothing really outstanding about him other than the fact his long hair doesn't seem to be black, but rather a dark blue. Hair dye, maybe?

Or it can just be that my sight isn't that good just yet.

Whenever I got the chance, I always grabbed onto his locks to try and see if it is blue or if my eyes were really playing with me.

"Kuina!" He yelped out and I quickly released my hold on his hair as he held me up to meet his eyes. For once, they were open, and I stared straight into his dark eyes with my best unimpressed face.

I can't believe this man dyes his hair.

Well, I can't really blame him as I was once known for my short boy cut that was bleached blonde, not wanting to admit to my grey hair. Although he didn't even seem to reach the age to be worrying about such things.

Another thing I have noticed is the fact that they continue to use the word 'Kuina' around me, which has me thinking it is my new name. It didn't really sound all that bad, and I don't really mind it but...

It's not Kimberley.

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My first steps were taken just a few months after my first birthday, when the snow stuck to the windows and Koshiro – I had finally found out my parents' names after listening intently to their conversations – built a nice fire in the small fireplace while we all sat around a table that produced heat from under the covers.

It's an interesting table and I can't say I've ever seen one before, so you can't really blame me for wanting to check it out. Maiko often left me to explore on my hands and knees once she can see me, but as soon as I was out of her sight she'd quickly come behind and scoop me up. It was irritating, really and now I feel like I can sympathize with all babies - my own who I had often scolded for wandering off too.

I want to know more about the hot table, dammit!

That day however, she watched with wide eyes as I used the table itself to steady myself on my own two feet. She made no move toward me, and instead stood where she was by the doorway that leads into the living room. This whole house is shaped oddly with weird furniture and outdated things that I can't remember the last time seeing. It often makes me wonder what timeline I'm in.

Then though, I wondered just how to move those shaky things I call feet.

Gripping the white cloth, my eyes met with the silent woman who continued to just stare but had lowered herself into a crouch, arms outstretched beckoning me forward. The pose had me pausing for a moment as I remembered the exact one from the many times I had asked for my children - my now grown children - to come to me.

Ignoring the burning of my eyes, I slowly released the table cloth. My balance went haywire for a moment before I could have recaptured it and I paused once more.

Her soft voice startled me slightly and I guess it was her voicing her encouragement. Slowly, I had placed one foot in front of the other my eyes watching every step I took. It felt like I was walking on a tight rope - arms outstretched, eyes on my feet.

I don't know when, but I found myself being enveloped in Maiko's arms, and my first walk was over. Immediately we were in the air - or more specifically, me - and she was talking so fast and she sounded so happy.

Koshiro wasn't there, and I guessed he was at work, but later she informed him of it or I think that was what she told him. He ruffled my short hair and I found myself biting my lip as he said something that had me closing my eyes as I leaned into his touch.

I had only have been able to tell what a few of the things they said meant as they made it their duty to try and teach me as much as they could – they are my parents, of course but it's still warming knowing that they care so much – and I could have made a wild guess what his words were.

"I'm so proud Kimmy..."

"I'm so proud, Kuina."

Right. It's Kuina, now...

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I've grown to care for these two people, something I shouldn't be too surprised upon noticing. It's understandable seeing as they have been here ever since I have entered this life. It's only ever been them around me, and I've grown accustomed – grown to love – them.

My first time outside happened in the new year, months before my second birthday. It was spring, a time I have forever been in love with. Flowers have always been my favorite thing and seeing the pink cherry blossom trees outside were the final click to where exactly I am. Somewhere in Japan, or I could be wrong as cherry blossoms do grow in other parts of the world.

But it seemed so fitting seeing the clothing my parents always wear. The robe like dresses that my two daughters had always badgered me to sew for them, especially the youngest as she was – must still be – fascinated with Asian culture, are all what Koshiro and Maiko wear.

That day, Maiko wore a light pink one that matched the petals that land in our hair and the ground with a white sash whilst Koshiro chose a dark green that made his blue hair that is tied back in a pony tail stand out. I myself was wearing a miniature version - a yellow with light green leaves decorating it.

I had tried to take everything in from my vantage point in Maiko's arms as we left our surprisingly large compound. A smaller building sat in front of our home and I had absentmindedly wonder what it was for.

"That's where Tou-san works, little bird." Said Maiko as she spots where exactly holds my attention for so long. "He teaches others to wield swords."

I had thought I might have translated that wrong, but the thought of the white sword that sits like an ornament back in our home had come to mind, and the thought of Koshiro being a master or something close to it doesn't seem so far stretched.

"Oh..." Is all I could have said before we were met with the rest of world. It was like we had stepped out of a bubble and into a bustling town of sorts where everyone stopped to greet us.

Many of the women stopped to coo at how adorable I am while asking my mother how she was doing, while the men were less chatty and mostly spoke to my father after sparing me glances and sending me soft smiles.

Everyone mostly was dressed in similar clothing that reminded me of Koshiro and Maiko's, solidifying my guess of this being Japan.

That'd explain also why the language sounds so familiar. It's the same thing Jordan mutters whenever she's watching that cartoon crap!

We passed by a large market where it reminded me of my home from before where the sellers are loud and speak in broken language. I had even made Koshiro buy an apple for me even though I couldn't eat it just yet as it needed to be cut up before consumed.

He had sighed in exasperation, but still handed the red fruit over and I immediately attach my gums to it, loving the feeling of the itching being dispersed from my mouth. Maiko laughs and nuzzles her face into mine, while I had huffed as Koshiro took the apple back ignoring the saliva all over the fruit.

"Mine!" I had tried snatching the fruit back, but of course I don't get it. I am reprimanded, however and the rest of our walk I am left pouting.

It disappeared when we had come to a hill where the scenery left me breathless.

The sight of the ocean and the harbor just below us with the expanding sandy beaches just east of where we stood was such a thing to behold. The ocean was beautiful to look at especially where it met with the sky in the horizon, white clouds dotting the light blue sky. Birds fly overhead, and I had tried my best to keep my eyes on them as they flew just above our heads, hands reaching up as if to catch one.

"Bird!"

It really was a beautiful sight, and for a moment I was almost happy.

Almost.

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Maiko began to feel sick a little after my third birthday. At first, it was only coughs here and there, and soon it escalated to her having to sit more than usual, face pale. It didn't take long for Koshiro to consult a doctor.

"I'm afraid Maiko has caught the influenza." Said the doctor after he left my parents' room. Held in my father's arms, I had gotten a closer look at the elderly male who also wear glasses like Koshiro. His, however, were square instead of the younger male's round ones.

"Will she be alright?" Questioned Koshiro, and I heard the worry in his tone. Trying my best to comfort him, I rubbed soothing circles on his arm. He didn't notice.

"Only time will tell."

After that day, Maiko was subjected to the room to get better. She was only ever taken out to shower or use the washroom. Sometimes when she was well enough, she would eat with Koshiro and me.

"Look, I learned how to write my name!" Most wouldn't feel overly chipper with that, but it was something I had tried my best to do. My handwriting had always been terrible, something that my family and friends always made fun of. This time around I was determined not to be teased about it. So far, it was coming along smoothly.

"Oh, how lovely, little bird." Maiko smiled, her rather slim hand cupping my face as she wiped my mouth clean from the rice grains. I'm not much of a proper eater this time around, something I don't find too bad seeing as I can always train myself to eat properly.

Kanji is rather complicated, and for a sixty-two-year-old woman it is the bane of my existence. However, I planned on mastering this evil of a written language and one day doing a whole calligraphy session on just how much Kanji can suck my ass.

Ehem. Excuse my childishness just this once.

"Do you know what your name means, Kuina?" She asked, and I furrowed my brows as I shook my head.

"It's the name of a flightless bird." Koshiro spoke up from my left and I turn to the man. He sat with his ever-present smile on his face, chopsticks poised to grab at more of his rice from his bowl.

"A flightless bird?" I repeated, frowning.

Why ever would they give me that name?

"Yes, it's one of my favorite birds." Maiko stated, and I look back to her. "Do you want to know something, little bird?"

Nodding my head, I awaited what she'd say.

"Even though the bird can't fly, doesn't mean it can't one day."

A month after that, Maiko passed away leaving both myself and Koshiro in shock. I don't think I came out of it. Not until she was buried, and we were standing in front of her grave.

I don't think I registered the touch of my father as he left me alone with her grave for a moment, and I alone stood under the midday sun staring at her name engraved on the stone.

Is this how my family were when I passed away?

The thought had the unbidden memories of my past life swallowing me up for a moment; bolts of cloth everywhere, the screeching of my grandchildren in the background, the bickering of my two daughters over something and the loud sound of my machine as my practiced hands glides the cloth where it needs to be.

"Maiko," My voice sounded so tiny, and close to tears, but I ignore it. "Thank you."

It was all I can say, really. I had never once thanked the woman that had birthed and raised me to this day, the same thing I realized I never did for my mother of before. The thought sits heavily on my shoulders and I release a sigh.

"Really, thank you for being the mom I never had."

Turning around, I had walked to where my father waited, taking a glance back to where the sunflowers sat in the green grass before turning around and continuing.

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A more updated version as I reenter after such a long hiatus. Forgive my absence please! XD