Chapter One
My name now is Charlotte Chamomile, the 35th daughter of the Pirate Emperor, Big Mom. But i wasn't always Chamomile. Before my life in One Piece, I was known by a different name, and a different face.
I don't remember much about my old life, to be honest. It's been too long since I lived that life, and many of my memories were lost when they were transferred from the brain of an eighteen-year old to that of a newborn. Although I have many secrets, this one in particular is my greatest secret of all, and my most treasured advantage.
But some nights it haunts me.
A cool wind brushes across my skin, blowing my hair in my face. We walk amidst tall, golden grasses, bowing to the wind. An open field spreads out around us. We walk a gravel path over rolling hills, toward the low sun. The cool warmth of a summer night begins to settle. And our hands are clasped tightly between us.
"I wish we could walk this path forever." She says. "Do you ever feel like you wish you could just freeze a moment, and just live in that moment forever?"
I knew exactly what she meant.
'Of course I would think of this moment as I die' I think to myself. After all, this memory was one of the happiest moments of my life. A life that was cut short.
This is my first memory of my new life in the world of One Piece- the memory of my final thoughts as I died. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself as a small child- a baby. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. It was traumatic for my eighteen-year-old mind. But I don't remember any of that.
My next memory takes place when I'm around five years old. It's when I first realized that my life in the One Piece universe wasn't going to be as fun as I wanted it to be. "Which devil fruit dare you gonna eat, Pudding?" One of our brothers asks.
"Yeah, I heard you turn five years old today!"
Of course, I turned five years old today, too. Pudding and I were biological sisters, even though we looked nothing alike. We lived in the same home on Whole Cake Island, where we received anything we desired. Servants waited on us night and day, carrying out our every whim. Everything except one request: no leaving the house unless Mama says so.
Crammed into a small home together, Pudding and I learned to ignore each other. I never bullied Pudding for her third eye, and I tried to stay on her good side, but it was impossible. Over the years Big Mom had twisted her, made Pudding into a monster. Pudding fell for her manipulations. With my more mature mind, I was able to escape most of Mama's manipulations and schemes. For the most part.
On our fifth birthday, we are awarded the devil fruit that will make us into Big Mom's puppets.
"I'm gonna eat the Memo-Memo fruit!" Pudding says, putting on a friendly smile as we walked down the gumdrop road to Mama's throne room.
The fruit that Mama has decided for me is the Steam-Steam fruit. But I don't want to eat it.
We walk through the giant keyhole- shaped door to Big Mom's throne room. The Emperor's room is massive. Chessmen and some miscellaneous siblings line the walls.
"Ma, ma!" Big Mom says. "Come, my dearest daughters!"
Daifuku, the third son of the family, approaches us from beside the throne. He has buzzed blonde hair, quirky eyebrows, and a quizzical frown. In his hands, he holds two devil fruits. The room seems to hold its breath in reverence.
Big Mom grins widely above us. She leans forward in her seat with surprising flexibility, bringing her face to eye level. It's terrifying.
"Devil fruits, devil fruits!" She crows. Pudding and I are visibly nervous as Daifuku passes the two fruits into our hands and retreats to the side of the throne.
"Eat them now, if you are good little girls!" She says, her voice thundering around the room.
I watch as Pudding takes a large bite. Her face screws up and she grimaces at the taste.
"Good girl, good girl!" Big mom crows. "Now you next, Chamomile, darling!"
That's me. I'm Chamomile.
The room holds its breath for the moment. I've been known to be quite a troublemaker to them- my best attempts at escape from the house had always ended in failure. I had even faced prison time in Mont'dor's books. I raise the fruit to my mouth, slowly and reluctantly.
I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this!
"Come on, Cham-ie! Just one little bite for Mama?" Mama crows.
"Do it! Just do it!" Pudding hisses between her lips.
I can't do it. A fire lights in me. I want to be my own pirate, and eat my own fruit! I don't want her damn handouts!
"I'm not hungry." I say, simply.
"You mean you won't eat it then, hm?" Big Mom asks, seemingly unaffected by my declaration.
"No." I say, unable to look at anything but the floor. Everyone in the room is stunned.
"Chamie just defied Mama!" Someone gasps.
"No way!"
"She'll learn soon enough."
With a laugh and a flick of Big Mom's hand, two chess-soldiers drag me out of Totland's throne room.
"Let me go!" I protest, and they dump me unceremoniously into the dungeon, at Mont'dor's feet. Mama isn't pleased.
He has a stern expression on his face. My heart sinks. I know where this is going.
Not a minute later, I'm imprisoned in one of Mont'dor's book prisons. He doesn't even spare me a glance as he locks me up, and he leaves the dungeon with a jangle of keys. If I were alone, I wouldn't feel so bad, but one of my siblings was sent to watch me. Soon, the entire family will know.
"Locked up again, Cham-ie?" Charlotte Yuen asks, the thirty-fifth son of the family. I hate him. I hate all of them.
"Shut up!" I demand. I suppose I don't look very intimidating while kneeling on the paper foor, my hands tied behind my back to the wall. I wanna beat the shit out of this little shit.
"You can't hurt me! Mama likes me," Yuen says. His ridiculous bee antlers bob on his head as he talks. "If you touch me again, she'll lock you up for a whole month!"
I don't respond, too focused on suppressing the feeling of hunger. That's Big Mom's punishment for her 'disobedient' children- forced starvation. My stomach growls. I have two days to go in here, so I settle in for the long haul, and begin to daydream. I always thought the world of One Piece would be a fun place, filled with adventure.
I also plan my escape. In my pocket, there's a small lighter. If I can burn away the paper bars, then I can get out of here! I wait patiently, and then after a few hours, Yuen becomes bored with my unresponsive behavior and leaves. This is my chance. I check around one last time for guards, and then, I begin my escape. This time, I'm getting out of Totland for real! I don't care how I do it, but I will! Contorting my body, I raise my leg up to where my arms are. I fish a lighter out of my socks with clumsy fingers. I can do this. It takes a few clicks to ignite my paper bonds.
They burn my hands a little, and as soon as they become loosened, I move to the paper bars of the cell. I'm almost free!
The fire rages around me as I desperately try to light the bars. But the bars don't have any exposed edges- they're not burning fast enough! The fire is closing in around me. What do I do? I push and pry at the bars, but it doesn't work. The heat and the flames begin to lick my clothing. This was so stupid. I'm going to die at this rate!
Suddenly, my environment turns to a sort of warm ice. It's candy! "Whoa... you even turned the fire into candy!" I gasp. It's Perospero, my second eldest sibling.
The Candy Man struts into the room, and at a cool thirty-six years old, he looks like a cross between someone's dad and Willy Wonka.
"You'll never amount to anything if you're in jail all your life, you know!" He says, his candy hardening and turning pink, effectively smothering the flames and also sealing me in an inescapable prison.
He extends his hand, and, after a moment of consideration, I place the lighter in it.
"Of course, you'll also never amount to anything if you keep defying Mama like this. You know better!" He declares.
"I know." I whine pitifully. Being a small child again has caused me to also revert to childlike tendencies. If you don't believe me, ask a psych major about Zimbardo and role-playing attitudes.
"Give up on your dreams and you will be happy!" He says, spinning around towards the stairs away from the dungeon. "You'll never find happiness if you continue to search for freedom!"
"No! I won't give up! I'll escape one day, you'll see! And then I'll become King of the Pirates, and all of you will have to listen to me!" I yell. Perospero laughs, like everyone does. Everyone laughs at me. I'll show them! I'll make them all pay!
"Well, you won't find the One Piece in that jail cell!" He laughs, stalking up the stairs. That's true. If I want to get out of here, I have to get stronger! Bending down to the floor, I begin to do pushups, ferociously pumping the floor. I'll be the strongest, and not even Big Mom will be able to stop me!
"So you're finally out of that prison, huh? I was hoping that I'd never see you again!" Pudding laughs.
"Damnit, Pudding! Stop laughing!"
Since we're biological sisters, we're forced to live together. She's baking something in the public kitchens, as usual, practicing for Mama.
"You're so easy to make fun of!" Pudding quirps. It's been two years since the time that Perospero offered me candy to eat in the dungeon. I haven't seen him since then, not personally. That's the only act of kindness I can remember anyone doing for me since I became conscious in this body.
Another one of our siblings runs up to us, some little brat. He's holding a bowl of icing. "Pudding-chan! Chamie-chan! Try this icing!" He says, eagerly. I have nothing better to do. It tastes pretty good. Much better than last time.
"Disgusting!" Pudding and I both shout simultaneously. We look at each other, scandalized that we both said the same thing, and then return to our work.
"Why do you always keep that notebook of yours around?" Pudding asks.
"So I can record all of your culinary failures." I mouth off. It's the notebook in which I have written all that I remember about the plot of One Piece. I study it from time to time, and make edits if necessary.
"How can you talk when you're still a failure yourself?" Pudding retorts, turning around to face me. "When's the next great escape? Maybe you'll make it outside the front door this time!"
"Shut up!"
"You haven't even eaten your devil fruit yet, have you?" Pudding says. Each of us children are given a name that matches a food group, and a devil fruit that matches the name from birth. My name is Charlotte Chamomile, named after tea because of my dark green hair. According to Mama, I'm destined to eat the Steam-Steam fruit to make me a Steam-Human, and become the Minister of Tea. But I don't see it that way.
"Just because you've given in to living your life by someone else's rules doesn't mean I have to." By now, the entire kitchen is watching me as I speak.
"Hey, look, Chamie is having one of her tantrums again!" One of the younger kids yells.
"Tantrum! Tantrum! Crybaby!"
"Laugh it up while you can!" I yell to the growing crowd. "When I'm the King of the Pirates, none of you will be able to stop me from doing what I want!" Snatching up my notebook, I stalk out of the room, back to my room. Who said living in a world of pirates is fun? I begin to wonder what Luffy's doing right now. Is he with Ace? Maybe Sabo? Maybe even his grandpa, Garp? Has he met Shanks yet? If he knew I existed, would he like me?
I keep a detailed description of every One Piece character I can remember, including my own mother. Just the thought of her makes me angry.
Lying on my bed, I flip the pages until I find Sanji. Sanji was always my favorite character when I watched the show. I even have a little drawing of him, just in case I forget how he looks. I just might- it looks like I'll never get out of this place. I sigh. Maybe I should take Mama's advice and learn how to cook. If my food is good enough, he might allow me to befriend the Straw Hat crew from that alone.
Often, Pudding came home, entering the room crying. With beds next to each other, I always noticed, but never said anything. Pudding, while she was known to frequently bully anyone younger or weaker than her, also had bullying problems of her own. Relentlessly, our older brothers and sisters teased Pudding for the existence of her third eye on her forehead. She was good at acting, playing it off like she didn't care. But in the relative safety of our bedroom, while I feigned sleep, she would let it all loose.
One night, when we were about seven, I had had enough. Launching myself upright in my bed, I turn to face her four-poster bed in the opposite corner of the room. "Can you stop crying already!?" I demand.
Pudding sits up, wiping tears out of her widening eyes, as she realizes what I had heard. I understand now what her plan is as her mind races- she's going to try to take the memories of her crying away from me with her Memo-Memo fruit.
"Why don't you just tell me what happened?" I ask, more compassionately, partially out of self-preservational instincts and partially out of concern. Although I never displayed it, I liked Pudding. I liked Pudding because she and I both hated Mama with a passion hotter than Prometheus himself.
"To someone like you?" Pudding laughs. "Like you could ever understand me! Look at me!" She pulls her bangs aside as she slides out of bed. "I'm a freak! I'm gonna take those memories!" She says, launching herself towards me.
"Don't you dare laugh at me!" I squeal, and we're wrestling, tumbling across the floor. We roll over, and then Pudding finally pins me, hand ready to dip into my brain and pluck out the memories of her weakness.
"You're too weak!" She taunts.
"I am," I admit. "And I get bullied all the time for it. Am I not a freak too?" I ask.
Her hand pauses.
"I won't tell anyone. I promise." I say, swallowing. Slowly, Pudding retracts her hand.
"Thank you." I say.
"Yeah, whatever. You owe me big time for this!" She says, stomping back to her four-poster. I drag my bruised body back to bed. I am too weak. Tomorrow, I train.