Disclaimer: I do not own any places, characters or quotes used in Oda Eiichiro's 'One Piece' 1 though 34 and 40 (which are what I've read. I haven't read any others, so if something I say overlaps with something in one of them, sorry—I didn't know). I do, however, own characters not used in the original (Yasopp's father (to whom I gave no name), Sakku (Gol D. Roger's first mate), Lilabet, etc.), the plots, and the translations of the quotes.
Will Passed On (A Collection of Seven One Piece Short Stories)
My treasure? You can have it if you want it…
Seek it, if you will. I left everything of this world there.
–Pirate King Gol D. Roger
Story 1 : Will Passed On
I am the Pirate King. My name is Gol D. Roger. Once upon a time, I was a great pirate—the best of them all. People feared me and called me the Pirate King in their awe and terror. I had all the wealth, power, and fame of this world. When I was executed, my last words were enough to stir the entire world and begin the Age of Pirates. Never was there a man such as me, and all know it. I went further along the Grand Line—the most dangerous of all the seas—than anyone has ever done. I grinned widely—and sincerely—at my death. No one can predict me, nor can they catch me.
But I was executed, you say. "If no one could catch you," you ask, "how in the world were you executed? Did you just go and relinquish your freedom of your own will?" No. I love my freedom. I would be a fool to trade it in. Those who know me call me a fool, but they know better than anyone that I am not that much of one. There is but a single thing that I value more than my freedom.
"So then what did happen?" you ask. You want to know? Ha. Why should I tell you? It would be no more than a story to you. I doubt you'd even listen whole-heartedly. But I'll tell you. Listen if you like. Just pretend you're listening while you think of other things more important to you if it suits you. Even lounge back and don't even pretend to listen at all if that's what you want to do. I don't care. I'm not doing this for you. I think I'd like to recount those days. I rarely look back. But just this once, I think I will.
The ship had been tossing in the windy sea for only five minutes in sight of the island through the thick fog when it lowered its anchor. This ship had been here only once before, but it had taken them two hours then. This time, however, they knew that the easiest and only way to reach the island, and did not go this way and that as they had the first time.
This island they called Raftel, and no ship but theirs had ever reached it. The tall, imposing cliffs had compelled them to attempt to go around it the first time, in search of a place where they could dock. The captain, however, had ordered them to turn back at the last moment, thereby saving their lives. They had later discovered that the ocean currents were extremely strong this close to the Red Line, and headed at a terrifying speed toward the tall mountain that shattered any ship so unfortunate as to attempt to go around the island. However, this ship's captain, Gol D. Roger, was a very intelligent man, and the possibility had struck him at that last moment before they tried to go around the island. His men trusted him completely, and had followed his order immediately and without question. This had saved them all. Once they had come very close to the island, they had discovered that there was a shallow area that faced a small beach before the cliff. It had been invisible through the fog until they were almost upon it. It could be that one or two other ships had come in sight of Raftel but, without knowledge of the ocean current or of this place, had attempted to go around the island and been carried away by the current to be smashed against the cliff of Red Line that was the back of Rivers Mountain.
Logically, such a strong current, faster than the most terrifying rapids of any body of water, should not have been in existence in such an area where there was nothing causing it. But this was Grand Line, and in Grand Line, all logic in navigation was as useful to a ship out at sea as the abundant salt water.
While Roger was intelligent, he was as whimsical as the Grand Line. Perhaps that was why they had managed to make it so far—Roger probably understood the whims of the Grand Line better than anyone ever had.
After reaching Raftel that first time, the ship had remained there for about a month, rejoicing. Roger had also wanted to see if the Logue would point anywhere else. But the Logue continued to point at Raftel, and after a while, they had decided to go back some way down the Grand Line, flaunting the fact that they had made it so far. They had even intended to go back all the way, where they could reunite with Laboon, a companion who had been unable to follow them into the Grand Line.
Then Roger had been wounded. Oh, he had been wounded several times before, but this one was severe. A long gash ran from his shoulder straight down as far as his mid-thigh. He had slept for the first few days, hardly ever waking. During those days, when he was awake, his eyes remained open as he stared blankly at the ceiling, but he did not move or speak. The doctor could not make him eat, and they could only force liquid down his throat to ensure that he would live. On the third day, however, a steel-hard resolution filled his blank eyes as he stared at the ceiling during one of his brief waking periods. The resolution remained there for a few seconds, and then vanished. Then Roger had turned his head, looked at the doctor and demanded food.
After that, his recovery had been a matter of much less worry to his comrades. They had sighed in relief at first, for they had believed that he would not want to recover. Then they began to rejoice—their captain was back. But the changes slowly began to show themselves after that. Even after a week, when he was allowed out of bed, their captain's walk was slower, the swing of his sword weaker, and his reflexes slower. These were such subtle differences that they were almost imperceptible, but what alerted Roger's comrades most were his eyes. At times, a steel-hard resolution would fill those usually sparkling—whether ominously or happily—orbs. They began to realize what he intended to do, and finally one day, one man suggested that they head for Raftel once more. There was an underlying tone that Raftel was to be their final destination, but none really minded. They had traveled the seas for decades, and most were no longer as nimble as they had once been.
So they had taken the Logue Pose out for the first time in five months, and begun to follow it back to Raftel. It had taken them only five weeks to get past the last island before Raftel. However, that could have been because they did not stop at any island except to get more supplies when they needed it.
So now they were at Raftel once more, rowing out towards shore. The cloud that hung over their captain was faint, but it still spread to the rest of the crew. The usually carefree comrades were silent, whether they wore a smile or a frown.
Once they reached shore, they remained silent as they dragged the rowboats to shore and unloaded the supplies. They then made their way down the beach around the cliffs to the other side of the island, where there was a path up to one of the most blissful tree grove, with all sorts of fruits and a small stream making its way through the trees. While there were countless dangers in reaching Raftel, the men had found, Raftel itself was Paradise. Reaching their destination, they set up camp. Being in that tree grove, however, challenged their silence with its beauty. Soon the men were laughing and joking as usual, and bringing out the wine. Not long after, a few figures appeared between the trees.
"Lilabet!" shouted one of the men among the pirates, and he rushed to a woman wearing a simple wrapped garment of animal skin. Behind her were men and women, all garbed similarly—these were the inhabitants of Raftel. Then the man looked down in surprise at Lilabet's stomach, which was rather rounded. Lilabet smiled and nodded.
If any tension had been left, that swept it all away. The man picked up Lilabet and swung her around, kissing her and laughing. Behind him, the other pirates were laughing and rejoicing as well. Lilabet's people moved forward and joined them, as well.
Lilabet and the pirate that held her were not married in the legal sense, but what did pirates care for legality? In Lilabet's culture, a couple had only to ask the chief's permission to be bound, so that was what they had done. In truth, the pirate had had one wife before, but she had died giving birth to their son, Yasopp. So when they had reached Raftel and the pirate had fallen in love with Lilabet on first sight, Yasopp, who had never known a mother, had been delighted as well. In the month that they had spent on Raftel the first time they were there, Lilabet and Yasopp had come to consider themselves a mother and son.
This bond between Lilabet, Yasopp and his father had expanded to the two groups—Roger's pirates and Lilabet's people—and they now considered one another their own kin. And now they were rejoicing both their own reunion and Lilabet's pregnancy, for one's joy was all of theirs, just as one's pain was all their pain to them.
They did not notice when Roger slipped away with a sack and returned shortly after without it before he joined the gay banquet.
Shortly into their festivities, Roger stepped up onto a large rock before them and called out to his pirates and the natives. He was smiling widely as he spoke.
"My pirates!" he called to his pirates. "We have traveled all four of the lesser seas together, and come further in the fifth and most dangerous of seas than any before us!" Then he addressed the natives. "My kin! Our time together has not been long, but I could not hold you more dear than I do!" He had all's instant attention. Now his smile faded. "You may notice that our number is much less than it was on our last visit to Raftel. Five weeks ago, we met the Marines in a great battle." His comrades' faces darkened at his words, and the gayness and delight disappeared from their eyes to be replaced by the same resolution that had lain in their captain's eyes so often as of late. Lilabet's people's faces darkened as well, and they listened with steadfast attentiveness, for they respected and loved Roger just as much as the pirates did. "They took us by surprise, but we all fought well. However, they knew that we had grown attached to the people of the village. The Marines are supposed to protect the people. But perhaps that doesn't matter to them as much as defeating us pirates." Some pirates were clenching their teeth and others their fists, and the menace in the air was tangible. Even the atmosphere around the natives darkened. They were beginning to see what had happened to those that they had considered their own kin. The captain's words were soft, and his eyes dark. "One Marine dragged our dear, beloved friends of the village to a ledge overlooking our battle. The filth killed them one at a time, still gagged and bound, every time one of us moved—even if it was an involuntary twitch. Meanwhile, they bound and gagged those of us who were in the back, and by the time we noticed, it was too late—they had half of us, and they had been dragged up onto the ledge. And still, the Marine continued to kill them one by one before our very eyes. We could not look away, for that would be a movement that would result in the death of even more. We all saw the hopelessness of the situation—they would kill our friends one by one until they had successfully bound us all, and then we would all be executed anyway. So I did something that, no doubt, angered many who were there.
"I ran around to the top of the ledge, intending to save as many as I could. They would all die if we did nothing, I figured, and I thought I could run fast enough to save at least some. But by the time I reached that point, most were dead. There were only two left up there: my first mate and my son. I tried to get them both, but someone shot Sakku. So I could only grab my son and run. They tried to get me, but managed to inflict no more than a wound." Two teenage boys at the back of the crowd were now shaking, one trying to the best of his ability to stop the tears that streamed down his cheeks.
"My kin, they killed half of our beloved comrades and all the village—our dear friends. I have had my time. I have traveled all the seas and seen a great variety of places. I have researched more in history and medicine than any other single man. I have found the All Blue, which is said to be a myth. I have come further along the Grand Line with you than any other ship has managed. I have tamed the world's most dangerous sword. I have had my time. Now, I will go to East Blue, to Logue Town, where our comrades' killer resides. Perhaps this is fate's idea of irony," he added with a small wry smile, "to have my greatest enemy reside in my birthplace. I do not ask you to come with me. If you so wish, you may stay in this paradise, and I swear most sincerely that it will not be held against you—by myself or any other. But I will go. And I, and whoever comes with me, are sure to never come back."
A long silence followed Roger's words. Then, all at once, a roar erupted from the people. Roger grinned down at them as they pounded mugs or fists on the ground, thrust their fists into the air, and roared their absolute approval. And his comrades grinned back up at him—they would all be coming. But, he reminded himself, some will stay. The chief of the natives, for example, was not permitted to fight. The native children were sure to stay as well, as would Lilabet.
"Then we set out on our final quest tomorrow. Tonight, we feast!" Roger threw up his hands and roared his words. His men let out another roaring cheer, and then the feast resumed ten times more enthusiastic than what it had been before. Roger leapt down from the rock and drank with his men. But he did not forget to turn to one man.
"Stay," Roger told him. "Don't leave Lilabet. If Yasopp comes, I'll ensure that he does not go into battle with us—I don't intend to let my son fight this battle, either." The pirate hesitated, looking doubtfully at his captain. But then Lilabet came up beside him, and Roger could see the will to fight leave him as he looked adoringly at his pregnant wife.
"Thank you," Lilabet said with a smile, and her husband echoed her words. Roger only smiled in reply.
VVVVVVVVVV
It was three weeks and many shortcuts later that the ship came in sight of Logue Town in East Blue. When the woman in the observation deck shouted that Logue Town was in sight, tension on the ship vanished. There were not as many crewmembers as their used to be, even with a number of natives of Raftel with them, and sailing in their large ship through tricky narrow waterways of Red Line after rowing frantically through one of the Calm Belts had been extremely difficult with only half the number that they were accustomed to having. This had only increased their sense of vengeance. Perhaps they would not make it out of Logue Town alive, but they would bring down as many Marines with them as they could. And now that they were in sight of this town, they were clapping one another on the back, joking and teasing.
When they docked on shore, they were still laughing and grinning. No one who saw them would have guessed what they were about to do. As the crewmembers began leaving the ship, however, Roger put his hands on the shoulders of the only two teenagers on the ship.
"Listen, you two," he told the two. His eyes sparkled mischievously as they always did, but his tone was serious. "I don't want you to come into battle with us."
"But-" one with messy black hair began to protest.
"No, Yasopp," Roger said firmly. "The rest of us have traveled the seas for decades. Neither of you has lived for more than one. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get into the two larger lifeboats—the sailboats—and go to some other island. Live there a while. We've stopped in enough villages—you know how to act like a villager. So go to a village and live. If you still want to be a pirate after a few years—if the sea still calls to you after a few years, then return to the sea. But not before." The two boys stared at their captain. "And one more thing," Roger added. "I don't want you staying in the same village—or even on the same island. Go your separate ways. If you're fortunate, you'll meet again in the future." He grinned at the boys. "The Marines might know that the two of you exist, but they're pretty sure to underestimate both of you. Still, if they look for you, I don't want you to let yourselves be found unless you become a pirate again. We're going to make things more difficult for those Marines." The boys grinned up at their captain despite their disappointment.
"We'll do it, Da," said the other boy.
"We won't fail you," added Yasopp.
"Then I'll leave you to your task, Yasopp. And you, my son." Roger grinned at them once more, and then was striding rapidly off the ship. The boys instantly went to the task of getting the two sailboats off the deck and into the water.
Roger and his crew, meanwhile, headed for the Marine complex. They were well known, so they could not get in past the guards through deception. And their grudge was against the Marine soldiers who had killed their friends and comrades—not the others. So upon reaching the gate, Roger swiftly hit one guard over the head with his sword hilt before the man could cry out. A black-haired woman did the same with the other, using the ferrule of her spear—she was a native of Raftel, and their main weapons were spears and bows. Then they all slipped into the building.
It did not take long to reach their destination. Roger, somehow, knew where they would be, and led his comrades in a straight line to a door. He then turned to his comrades.
"This is where I leave you. Your fight is past these doors—this is the soldiers' dining room." There was a brief silence, and then a man spoke.
"We all have a grudge against the man who slit everyone's throats. I'll go with you." The man's eyes were hard, but Roger shook his head.
"No." Roger's tone left no room for argument. "They followed me, and I am their captain. We won't make this a soiled fight. I'll defeat their killer one-on-one." The man looked like he would protest for a moment, and then he grinned.
"I couldn't have asked for a better captain."
"And I couldn't have asked for better comrades," Roger replied with a smile. His comrades—pirates and people of Raftel alike—grinned at him, and then raised their weapons with a unified cheer. "And now we go!" Roger roared above their cheers, and their answered with a single great roar. And then they turned and broke through the doors. Roger turned and ran down the hallway. He knew which door, again, and threw it open.
A surprised Marine looked up from a desk where he had been pouring over papers. He was rather ordinary looking, but his lack of a uniform gave away his high status. His look of surprise quickly changed to a snarl when he saw Roger.
"So. Now you and your filthy scum decided to throw away your lives in a badly thought out attempt at revenge, did you?"
"Filthy scum?" scoffed Roger. His eyes twinkled or sparkled with mischief most of the time. They had filled with resolution when his comrades had been killed. They blazed when he fought enemies. Right now, one could say that his eyes were blazing. But they were not the ordinary sort of blazing eyes that he wore when fighting an enemy. This blaze came from deep within, and was filled with unmoving resolution as well. His voice, however, was calm. "I really think you're mistaking my comrades for yourself. You're the one most worthy of that name in the five seas, you know."
"Oh really?" asked the general idly. He held no weapon, but did not appear concerned. "You have only yourself to blame for those deaths, you know. That's what comes from getting attached to your underlings."
"Underlings?" asked Roger mildly. He knew that the Marine was trying to bait him, but he was too old and wise to fall for it. "No wonder you don't get anywhere in life. A man who takes the people working for him as mere underlings doesn't earn half as much loyalty as one who considers them his friends. Of course, I doubt that you understand what it means to have a friend."
"I see," said the general. He appeared to have lost interest, and was now back to his papers. "Did you just come here to waste my time rambling?" Roger's eyes narrowed.
"Then we'll get straight to what I came for." And then Roger charged at the general, swiftly unsheathing his sword. His sword swung down upon the general, who lifted a hand to meet it. The sword hit the general's hand and sparks flew.
"Is that all you can do?" asked the general with a smirk. "I'd heard that you can cut anything with that sword of yours, but I suppose that you're too emotional at the moment to display that power of yours—if, of course, it isn't just a bluff."
Roger's eyes narrowed, and though a thousand replies came to mind—"a diamond is about as hard as you can get", "do you actually think I've had the opportunity to seek out diamonds, rare as they are, just to see if I could cut them?"—but he said nothing and swung his sword down once more.
Roger and the general exchanged clash after clash. Soon the general was openly fighting back, however, and Roger could do nothing but shield attacks. Even as he did, he noticed that his sword was chipping with each blow that he received, and knew that he had to finish it soon while he still had the chance. Suddenly, the general's eyebrows rose.
"Why, this isn't your legendary sword. What, did you break it?" The general's voice was taunting, but Roger was wise enough to know not to listen. One of the general's hands, however, got past his sword, and a searing pain shot through his side.
Roger knew that this fight should not have been a hard one—this general was not even a headquarters general. He knew that, despite his best efforts to remain calm as he fought, he was upset. While he had a good right to be angry, Roger needed to remain calm when cutting something hard. It was through the breath of the objects that he could cut them, and he could only hear their breath in tranquility. So he calmed his mind and heart as he continued to block the general's hand. Soon it was only his body that was moving, and his mind was calm
And then he heard it. The breath of the general's diamond-body.
So Roger sliced through it.
Blood spurted from the long wound through the general's chest. Roger looked down at the dead man emotionlessly.
"I hope you expected that, because if you didn't, you're a fool," Roger said quietly. "But you were a fool anyway, to kill so many."
Someone's hand had clasped his arm a split second after he cut down the general, but Roger paid it no heed. By the time he finished talking to the corpse, his sword had been ripped by three men from his iron grip, and he had felt four pairs of hands drag his arms around together against his resistance where someone else handcuffed him. He instantly felt himself go limp, and knew that all hope of escape was lost. Since he used a sword, it was not common knowledge that the Pirate King had Devil Fruit powers, but they had put handcuffs with kairoseki on him, which meant that the Marines now knew.
Roger looked around at the men who were standing around, eyeing him wearily.
"So are you planning on standing there staring," Roger asked casually, surprising the Marines, "or are you going to escort me to the execution platform, or am I expected to walk there alone?"
And so it was that the Pirate King Gol D. Roger met and accepted his end.
In a few more years, another ship, the second to ever do so, will reach the island Raftel. Those on that ship will be small in number, but each exceptionally strong. A captain, a swordsman, a navigator, a marksman, a cook, a doctor and an archaeologist. They will be a rather light-hearted crew, much like ours. They will be the type to make friends with the civilians they meet along the way, just as we did. And they will value each other beyond anything else. This will be the ideal ship to become the ship of the next Pirate King.
So maybe Monkey D. Luffy's a little simple-minded. So what? People who think that the knowledgeable, logical kind of intelligence is important are idiots. It's the heart, the love, the determination, the loyalty, the willingness to give up anything for the sake of one's friends that matters, and my grandson and his crew has more of that than anyone else wandering the sea. Idiots say that my grandson and I are opposites. When I fight, I am cool and calm, and on ordinary days, I am mischievous simply for my own amusement. Luffy is often angry when he fights, and on ordinary days, he is no more than a ball of energy that bursts with fun and laughter. Where I had all sorts of knowledge and could have survived on my own, Luffy needs his comrades to survive, and he knows it. Where I have logic that I simply choose to ignore on a regular basis, Luffy never had any logic to begin with. But we both treasure our comrades and friends beyond all measure, regardless of whether or not we need them. On Raftel, he and his crew will find things that they will treasure beyond all else—my treasure. That's what makes them ideal for the position that they will fill.
I was a man unlike any other. My comrades and I died to avenge the ruthless murder of half our members. Never did I regret a single action—from beginning to end, there was one path for me to follow, and I followed it. I died with a grin. I was the only to ever lead a ship to Raftel. On Raftel, I left my treasure—the True History gathered along my travels; records of my research in medicine; the large inlet behind Raftel that is shielded from the monstrous currents, known to some of my men as the All Blue (although I daresay I couldn't possibly have taken that anywhere, even if I'd decided to try); a number of comrades, both pirates and natives of Raftel; my logbooks, in which every voyage I made through each of the five seas as well as the White Ocean and the White-White Ocean is recorded; my legendary sword, known as the Shodai Kitetsu—a cursed sword that no other ever managed to tame; and finally, my ship's pirate flag. My and my comrades' definition of 'treasure' differed from the ordinary man's—not gold and jewels, but dreams and friends. Some say we died a meaningless death. We lived our lives as we wished to the very end—not even death held us back. And with only a few words, I passed on my will to half the world at my death. Do you call that meaningless?
I was the greatest man ever to sail the seas. My name was Gol D. Roger. I was the Pirate King.
Author's Note: Gol D. Roger doesn't really make many appearances, but he was interesting to write about, based on what I do know. It seemed appropriate to open this with his story, since I'm basing this on a quote by him. I'm not too sure what to think of this… I used a few theories about Luffy and Roger (and even Usopp's lineage) in here, but I might use others in the other six. So, what do you think of this one? Do you think it's a good opening story?
