Revised Chapter Note: Happy New Years! 2016! Here's a revised Chapter 2. Added content and better formatting! Sorry if you are new and reading such oddly formatted chapters before I revise them.

Yay! Another chapter done! Sorry that they are so short. Making up most of the story as I go along. Hope you like it!

Inspired by 1337box's story: One Piece: Magician on Board

Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than Yukio.

Luckily for me, the principal apparently never caught wind of the little fight during lunch. My guess was that the son was too embarrassed to tell him because he got beaten by a girl, and that the other students thought he deserved the humiliation of being publicly owned. After school, I ran back home in hopes of catching the latest episodes of One Piece and Fairy Tail online before my brothers came home.

I impatiently waited at the crosswalk, tapping my feet. Right when the light changed, I dashed across the street. Midway through however, a truck appeared out of nowhere and was headed straight towards me.

"Oh shit."

I held up my arms to brace for impact, but as it was about to collide into me, a circle displaying strange symbols in a multitude of colors appeared in front of me. A gust of wind and a crackling in the air made me shield my eyes.

The wind was knocked from my lungs by a powerful force, sending black crawling in the sides of my vision. My body began to burn with pain and my brain slowly shut down.

My last thought was, "Maybe I did get hit by that truck."

A low rumble and splash of water from a distance was the first thing I heard as I awoke.

My whole body felt sore, my muscles screaming. Feeling around, I found that I was lying on a patch grass. That was odd.

We were pretty far into the city to have water and grass so nearby. I opened my eyes and immediately squinted them and the overly blue sky. That was wrong. City skies are never that blue.

I took a few moments of recovery before sitting up. A shift in the fabric of my clothes caught my attention and I noticed that my clothes seemed oddly big.

Looking at my hands, I was surprised to find them really tiny! A quick pat down confirmed that my whole body had shrunken as well. More accurately, that I had gotten younger as I found that my old scars I had accumulated over the years of sparring were gone.

By my guess, I was probably around seven or eight years old.

This was just plain weird.

Last I recall, I was a healthy sixteen year-old girl who was about to be hit by a truck.

I sat there for a couple more seconds.

"Well," I sighed out loud, "at least I got my wish. My life just got a lot more interesting."

For once in my life, I was grateful for my brothers sending me to survival training in the summer years ago. Spotting my backpack a few feet away, I made my way over and retrieved my pocket knife and travel-size sewing kit. I never went without them for practical reasons, especially when you are subjected to lots of bullying involving torn jackets and bags. I set aside all of my textbooks and papers, no use for them here.

I started cutting my red shirt and cargo pants, trimming the excess fabric until it was a manageable length. As I was cutting, the reflection from my knife made me notice something. Holding up the knife as a mirror, I saw that my eyes had changed. They were no longer a dark brown, but rather a golden orange blend.

I touched just under my eye to check if it was real. When my reflection did the same, I smiled and shrugged, "I'd say that's an improvement."

Finishing the trimming, I used the excess fabric to make something. 'Waste not want not', was a motto they always told me. I used the material from my pants to make a crude rucksack, and the red cloth from my shirt to make a bandana. When I was finished the final adjustments to my clothes, I started to inspect my surroundings.