One Piece belongs to Oda. And a gorgeous Yasopp action figure soon belongs to me...

Chapter 11: Joining Shanks

(19 years ago, Syrup Village)

"You're going."

"You can't decide that! I can't just leave—"

"You. Are. Going." Banchina's voice is firm and holds hints of steel. She's not backing down on this, no, because she's as stubborn as they come. Worse than me. And while I'm good at being stubborn in return – we have been having this argument for over a year now – it's difficult to keep denying her.

Her black hair is falling down on her shoulders, covering parts of her face as she's resting on her bed, but her dark eyes are as determined as ever. Even if her chronic illness is holding her body back, forcing her to take a rest every few hours, there's nothing wrong with her will.

"I'm not letting you talk yourself out of this again."

"But what about you?" I ask. "What about Usopp?" I can hear him in the other room, crawling around on the floor and playing with the little cones I brought in that Banchina turned into little bears.

"Usopp will be fine; I'll take care of him," she insists. "And I won't have you stay behind with me out of guilt. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't let you live to your fullest."

I knew that I shouldn't have told her about Shanks. It just… turned out that way. After he left, I spent weeks with my mind fully occupied by thoughts of a possible pirate life. Then I fell back into old patterns, taking the easiest way out, and so I somehow decided that it couldn't happen, that it had been impossible from the start. It became like a mantra to me, that I kept repeating to myself in times of doubt—because there were a lot of those. I should have known it wouldn't last.

I married Banchina, the woman who had captured my heart from the moment I saw her. She's the strongest person I've ever met, and she has a knack for doing everything I don't expect her to do. She keeps surprising me, even now, and that's one of the things I love the most about her. Being with her gave me a new perspective of things, and that tiny spark of hope in my chest stayed small.

Over the years, though, the thoughts of joining Shanks' crew turned into my favorite dream. Once I'd decided that it wouldn't become a reality, I allowed myself to think about it again. To the point that I could spend hours daydreaming about being a pirate when I was at my worst. It became my way of escaping the occasional dullness of reality, to go into that imaginary world for a while that was filled with thrills and adventures and parties. This fantasy world grew especially strong whenever I was shooting, where I could imagine standing on a battlefield rather than a shooting range.

In a moment of weakness, I once told Banchina of this dream and of Shanks' offer those years ago. In my ignorance, I thought she'd laugh at my silliness and tell me it was stupid. Instead, she asked me why in the world I didn't go. And since then, we've been having this argument with her trying to convince me that I should follow my dream and me trying to convince her that I can't.

Now, as we've heard rumors from other islands that pirates are in the area, she's become especially insistent. She's certain that it's Shanks coming to get me, but I don't believe that. I'm sure that he has forgotten all about me already—it's been three years, after all. It's not even a guarantee that he's alive anymore, but somehow that doesn't right to my ears. He's not the type to die.

Banchina takes my hand and holds it close. "This family life—it's not you, Yasopp. It's never been."

She's completely right, and we both know it. When Usopp was born less than a year ago, we were both elated, and motherhood suited her beautifully. Taking care of a toddler was far out of my comfort zone, but I lived with the belief that I'd grow into the role, that I'd get into it eventually.

It never happened though. I'm still as awkward as a family father as I've ever been. I still spend most of my time in the shooting range, dreaming myself away to unknown islands on faraway seas. My wife knows, but her being her, she's never given me a hard time for it. Never blamed me for wanting something different. Even know, she's urging me to leave her and become a pirate.

"So many people walk around with dreams they never dare to pursue," she continues. "Some of them want to, but they never could because they were born in the wrong body." At this, she gestures to her own disease-stricken body with her free hand. Then she traps me with her eyes again. "But you can, Yasopp. You can follow your dreams. So you should. I won't forgive you if you don't."

And I'm done. She's finally won this argument, like I knew she would one day.

"He'll hate me," I say, hesitant, because that is one of my worst fears. That my son will grow up to hate me for abandoning him, for denying him a normal life with his own father.

Banchina's gaze is unwavering on mine. "I won't let him. Now go."

I don't think I'll ever find anyone like her again for as long as I live. That's fine, because at least I got to have her for a short while. I squeeze her hand and stand up, looking around in our bedroom.

It's time to start packing.

-o-

An intense wave of nostalgia hits me as the man in the small boat with one oar once again paddles my way from the ship by the horizon. Against all my doubts, all my conviction, he's coming for me after all this time. He didn't forget; he didn't change his mind. Shanks is back, straw hat and all.

"Yasopp!" he calls as soon as he's within hearing distance, waving at me.

I stand silent, watching his face as he takes in my appearance with the bag over my shoulder and gun in its holster at my waist; how it brightens when he understands that I've finally made up my mind.

He brings his boat all the way to my cliff this time, close enough for me to climb in.

"You ready for adventure?" he asks, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yes," I reply, then backtrack a little just in case: "If your offer is still on the table."

"Welcome to the Red Hair Pirates," he simply says, holding out his hand.

I take it.