"A Klabautermann is a spirit that is attached to a ship, often believed to be the 'soul' of a well treated and loved ship.

They are merry and diligent creature with an expert understanding of most watercraft and an unsupressable musical talent.

They are rarely seen by the seafarers they aid and generally only physically appear for the death of a ship.

They are known to rescue those thrown overboard.

Like most things on the Grand Line however, everything is to be taken with a grain of salt.

They could very well emulate their pirate nakama and simply do as they please."

Seafaring myths of the Grand Line.

Volume I: The end of the great age.

Nico Robin.


Whitebeard sees him one evening when his children have all retired for the night and he, as was his custom, decided to take watch so everyone could get some rest.

The man is older than him in some important way but younger in another equally important manner.

He has a stern countenance but wears an amused expression much like an indulgent grandparent. Garbed much like any other sailor or pirate he could have walked onto the ship from any port on the Grand Line but they had set sail a week ago and weren't likely to dock for another fortnight at least.

More importantly, he was drinking his sake and the bastard had the cheek to offer to share.

The man laughes uproariously at his gruff affront and tosses the cask to him before telling him that he still had to share.

Much to his bemusement they ended up sharing the entire cask between them and the man proves good company.

"It's good, isn't it." He states rather emphatically "Having your family all around you. The only thing you really need."

Whitebeard eyed the man speculatively. He still couldn't figure out how he knew him.

The man stood up and flicked off some perceived lint before glancing towards the Captain over his shoulder.

"By the way, do you realise what a ridiculously fucking ironic name that is?"

He started to walk off "But since you picked it, and everyone uses it. I can't honestly say I'd answer to anything else."

No one else ever saw him. Not even Ace with the mark of 'that' line or Marco who was as close to otherwordly as Whitebeard was to his bisento.

He showed up now and then and the two of them always shared a drink together.

He never got the reference to 'irony' and it was never elaborated on.

Another nakama; one of their closest.

In Marineford, all he could do was watch and silently apologise as he burned.

It wouldn't be the last comrade he said goodbye to that day.


The Red Force is a good ship and Shanks is very fond of it.

It's certainly not the first ship he's ever sailed on but it is by far his favourite. (and not just because he gets his own room because sometimes he sneaks into the bunks for games, stories and drinks in the middle of the night.)

It is his home and the home of his nakama.

Sure, you could get technical and say that the sea is his home but he couldn't actually live in the sea. That would be uncomfortable and wetter than he needed to be.

They had filled it with many great memories ( and some not-so-great ones such as that convoluted escapade on that island that they were never going back to where Shanks had gotten so drunk that he somehow agreed to marry the mayors daughter and it had gotten worse when it transpired that they knew he was a Yonkou and 'oh won't this look good in the society pages.' Benn, the bastard, was still laughing about how the feared red-haired pirates had fled like a group of little girls.)

Either way, he loved his ship within reason.

That is, he was wise enough to know no matter how great a ship it was and how awesome the carving was on the prow it would have limits and eventually come to a point where it would not sail anymore.

However, this was a depressing thought and the Red Force was in excellent shape so it was put aside until it became necessary for the pirate to do his duty.

The rest of the crew were naturally behind Shanks on the 'Our ship is great ship' thought train. (frequent diversions and derailments aside.)

Benn had a spot on the rail that afforded him a good view of the crew and his surrounding and he would sit there on long evenings when the light petered on letting his smoke waft upwards.

Lucky Roux knew just what place gave him direct access to the kitchen.

Yasopp would perch on the highest point and pick out sniping targets.

It was more than a ship; it was their home so when someone damaged it they got pissed.

So naturally enough, someone picked a fight with them and their cannon made a dint in the prow which automatically put them on Shanks shit list.

They were soon in the midst of a chaotic battle. Their opponents were respectable but then again, they'd have to be to get this far in the Grand Line.

Shanks was right in the thick of it having a wonderful time and in the back of his head wondering if any significant damage was done to the carving because he really liked it.

Unfortunately he was unlucky, careless and distracted which explained why his normally phenomenal instincts failed him and he didn't notice the gun, the shot and the bullet going straight for his head.

A hand grabbed his collar and yanked him backwards roughly.

He noticed the bullet when it whizzed by his head and buried itself in the mast right where his head had been a moment before.

The same hand slapped him across the back of his head and a voice admonished him.

It was like his mother, Rayleigh, Roger, Luffy and Makino all rolled into one.

"Don't be careless. You can't die yet Shanks."

He grinned and lunged forward into battle

"Yes, Ma'am!"

There are no women in the Red-haired pirate crew.


Crocodile was fading, his remaining hand scrabbling desperately onto a scrap of hull, timber, anything to help him survive.

That bastard Whitebeard was long gone at this stage and what did he care?

Dreams?

Just look what dreams had brought him!

His crew.

His ship.

His hand.

But Crocodile was not the sort to lay down and die.

Dreams weren't worth shit.

He realised that now, just look at the price his naivety had levered upon him.

His determination to survive was doing him little good though.

His devil fruit would claim him soon and then there would really be no survivors.

Everything was fading and all he could hold onto was the pain and implacable rage searing through his body, his heart and the ragged stump of his arm.

A hand clasped his and pulled him forward.

He was pulled out of the water and onto a large piece of the hull, still mostly dry due to the craftsmanship it had so proudly displayed before it was shredded into so much kindling.

When Crocodile got his breath back he looked around.

He had not imagined it, definitely not.

The hand had been jarringly real; much smaller than his own but comprised of surprising strength.

The words too, he wasn't deaf unlike……no,no,NO!! They were dead.

Each and every one of them because he had been selfish and naïve to sacrifice his true nakama for god-damn dreams.

Those traitors….he'd deal with them in time. He needed tools for now. Skilled ones if he was going to turn the world on its head.

There was no-one there but the voice had been right regardless.

He carefully bandaged his mangled stump with the remains of his shirt before preparing to leave. He had work to do and someone, who or whatever they were had agreed with him in some way.

"You're too stubborn to die yet Captain."


The Rhumba pirates had been everything the age of dreams aspired to.

Their only failure was that they didn't survive which was a true shame because men like that could have gone all the way.

Even in death they remained the same as they had lived.

So they played and they sang and they trusted their nakama to fulfil their promise.

In the end, only two remained and even then he could only wait so long.

The pirates that sailed with him gave him life; their absence was a death knoll for him.

How could he continue to exist without their hopes, their dreams and his body failing him more and more each day?

The last thing he did, the last thing he could do for his nakama, for Brooke, for Laboon was sing.

He sang and played for all it was worth pouring everything he had, everything that they had given him into the song.

Just when he was nearly spent, a strange little puff appeared and Brooke was returned to his body, even if he was a bit late.

The next thing he heard was an excited babble, the feel of the sun upon him and the sound of music surrounding him.

He didn't know these pirates, but he was here so it spoke well of them.

He listened and heard their exclamations.

Brooke!!

He was going to see Laboon!!

These people were his friends and they had fought with him, the world still moved afterall.

Brooke would be fine, he knew this.

He knew what his nakama was like.

These new nakama though, they had called him so he would listen.

Lola prompted her crew and they began a raucous rendition of an old favourite.

Ah, he knew this song. Time to join in.


The grass on Sunny was damp and it caught the waning light lighting up the deck with subtle twinkling lights.

The strawhat pirates were off doing goodness knows what but you can be assured that it was an adventure of some description.

T

hey had fallen several times.

Thriller Bark, Shabaondy, Kuma, Marineford.

But they got up again.

No matter how much it hurt.

No matter how much they wished it had been them instead.

They got up and they moved on because they had each other to rely on and they refused to disappoint.

Luffy described it as an injury that Chopper couldn't reach. One that no amount of bandages would ever make better, something that all the meat in the world couldn't cure but he wouldn't give up.

For their promises.

For all of their nakama.

For everyone who sacrificed, bled and did everything in their power to help them along.

For Vivi, still cheering them on and raising her mark proudly for all to see.

For Ace, who always wanted the best for those he cared about even if it took him a long time to realise he deserved the same.

For Merry.

They ran across the grass rejoicing in the thrill of freedom.

The moisture that dotted their sandals, the shadows the no one was able to notice.

They sang and trilled, rejoicing that their nakama were alive, together and still chasing after their dreams.

"Back to the sea of adventure once again!" he cried.

"Always sailing a sea of adventure, what could be better?" replied his companion.

They paused and blinked for a moment.

"To do so with their nakama of course!!"

Merry perched on the edge

"As far as you can take them?"

Sunny grinned and leapt up to join him.

"A thousand times over I'll do it, even when I'm worn, broken and falling apart….just like you were."

They watched the strawhats return, Luffy thundering up the plank and yelling about meat.

Nakama never really went away in the end, they just separated on a new adventure for a while.

Sunny however had woken up and picked up Merry dragging him back to the ship because Merry was, is and will always be part of the strawhat crew just like the rest of their nakama. (He was clearly influenced by Franky.)

They both were always there, cheering them on, carrying them forward and encouraging their dreams.


People rarely realised that they were there.

They were born to those with strong will and big hearts.

Those who answered the call of the sea woke them up and took them as nakama even if they didn't realise it.

But they were always there because nakama always were.

And really, what is a pirate without their ship?


A/N: See this is what happens when I watch the funeral of Merry TT_TT

Meh, I like some bits of it but mostly not. I'm just not feeling the vibe.