A/N: Quoth the title of Oda's 100th chapter- The Legend Begins. *Bows*
I do not own One Piece, nor its distinct brand of adventure.
Commodore Brannew, a fairly old hand at his post, assigned bounties to criminals. He knew better than most that the job required a bit more nuance than people thought. He also, by extension, knew that protocols- for instance, that pirates were typically assigned higher initial bounties than bandits- were put in place for a reason. The final words of the former Pirate King, Gold Roger, ushered in the current 'Golden Age of Piracy', and the marines were proactive in their retaliation against the proliferation of criminal activity. Piracy by nature was mostly lawless and anarchic, hence the absolute necessity for protocols, guidelines and strict rules.
Thus, when word reached him regarding an up-and-coming pirate stirring the pot and smashing gangs- Buggy the Clown, Don Krieg, and Sawtooth Arlong, of particular note- in East Blue, Brannew reacted accordingly. Protocol dictated that only pirate captains received initial bounties. Individual crew members only warranted individual bounties if, a) they showed a capacity for spreading evil and causing mayhem independent of their captain, and/or b) the gang in question committed especially heinous crimes.
Hence, no matter what one captain Nezumi purportedly had to say about 'a vindictive bright-haired witch', Brannew only briefed his immediate superiors at headquarters on one Monkey D. Luffy.
"That's why," he said, slapping the freshly printed wanted poster for emphasis. "We've put out a price of thirty million beri for Monkey D. 'Straw Hat' Luffy!"
The Marines were already breaking away from precedent with a bounty ten times the average in East Blue.
Surely, that would address the threat adequately.
On an island somewhere on the Grand Line, two of the world's most fearsome figures stood opposite one another. In the way of predators, each projected a powerful presence without even drawing their weapons. Though one stood alone in the middle of an entire crew, those at his back were far nearer to being bested by their own nerves. The other, even missing an arm and sitting on a log, did not fail to measure up.
"Hawk-eye," Shanks, the youngest of the oceans four Yonko, said in a low rumble. "Didn't expect to see you. I'm in a bad mood right now. You looking for a duel?"
Mihawk scoffed.
"I don't duel one-armed has-beens."
Strictly speaking, not entirely true. The two had crossed blades a few times in the ten years since Shanks lost his arm. Handicap or not, Shanks ranked among perhaps a couple dozen people in the world capable of providing Mihawk any sort of challenge.
Nonetheless, the master swordsman had come on a different sort of errand.
His intentions made clear, the charged air settled considerably. The greener members of Shanks' crew nearly let out sighs of relief, though they did not fully relax. They lacked the experience of the veteran pirates lounging around their captain.
"I met an interesting boy a few days ago," Mihawk said, pulling a poster from the morning's paper out of his coat. "He made me remember the story you once told me about a kid in East Blue."
It would've been far more strange had Mihawk not remembered. Shanks spoke of the 'brat we found in a small village bar' with the derision of an older brother, the jibes of an uncle, and the rough affection of a father all at once. The way he carried on almost held a candle to Yasopp's ramblings about his own child.
Without another word, the master swordsman unrolled the new wanted poster, baring the photo of a face with a small scar frozen in a wide grin. Excited murmurs buzzed among Shanks' men. Even the ever-cool Benn Beckman took notice.
Shanks himself sat up straighter, eyes piercing as he took in the image. Sunlight caught the fiery red locks from which his epithet had been born. A grin broke out and transformed his face, all at once charming, roguish, young and dangerous.
"You've made it," he said. "You're finally here, Luffy!"
"His story will no doubt prove thrilling," Mihawk said, replacing the poster in his coat. "He's already managed to find a Haki user for his crew."
Not a few men whistled, impressed.
"I was quite surprised," Mihawk continued, keen gaze flickering to Shanks' tan, dreadlocked sniper. "To find a such a skilled marksman in East Blue. One baring the name Usopp, no less."
Yasopp's eyes damn near fell out of his face. He gawked at Mihawk, reeling from the news he'd shared so casually. The marksman, a veteran of the sea, one of the first members of a Yonko's crew, a man who could claim to have seen at least part of all six of the world's oceans, was shocked.
And that just for a start.
Pirate, father, pirate papa, papa pirate- all of it swirled around and generally stalled out his higher brain functions.
On the one hand, his boy, who he talked about every chance he got, had become a pirate! He'd taken up his old man's passion and even held the same position on his crew! And he could use Haki!
On the other hand, his boy, who could barely toddle the last time Yasopp saw him, could use Haki.
… That last point kind of stuck.
Assuming he'd heard Mihawk correctly. Did the Shichibukai mean something else? Was Yasopp dreaming?
He shook his head a few times experimentally.
Motion still aggravated his lingering headache from the previous night. And he didn't think anyone could dream up a hangover.
Haki. There were a few naturals in the world, sure. They were only about as rare as Conqueror's Haki. And even then, none of them ever learned Haki by playing on a peaceful island in the world's weakest sea.
"Well, Hawk-eye," Shanks said. "There's no way I can just let you walk away after that sort of news!"
A beat.
"Bust out the grog, you bums! We're drinking to Luffy and Usopp!"
"But Captain, what about your hangover?"
"Bah! I can't not drink to this!"
Yasopp's ears registered words, yet they got lost somewhere en route to his brain. As was often the case, a frothing mug appeared in his hands regardless of his input or lack thereof. Several beats passed before his captain's voice reached him.
"Oi, Yasopp," Shanks called, armed with his teasing grin. "What's up with your face? You about to laugh or cry?"
Yasopp considered the question quite seriously. Because he honestly didn't know. The marksman doubted that words could describe his current emotional state, and if pressed, he'd resort to incomprehensible noises.
Laugh or cry?
Well, if those were his options…
He plastered a grin on his face and thrust his mug into the air.
"My boy's a pirate!"
Answering cheers sounded all around from his crew mates. The marksman felt marginally better, mood lifted by the celebratory atmosphere. He sought out the bottom of his mug.
Regardless of the hows, the Red-Haired Pirates had two new reasons to keep their ears to the ground.
"Shishishishi!"
Luffy laughed. In his hand, brandished like a trophy, he held the bounty poster that had fallen from Nami's (begrudgingly paid for) newspaper.
"We're wanted, dead or alive!"
"That's not something to celebrate." Nami groaned into her hand.
"Why not?" Usopp asked. He smiled fondly at Luffy's grin, matching his likeness in the poster's photo perfectly. "We wouldn't be very good pirates if people didn't take notice, would we?"
"I," Nami snapped. "Made my way for eight years just fine without jack or crap from the Marines. I certainly don't need them, or any bounty hunters taking a sudden interest in our heads!"
Usopp winced. The cartographer had inadvertently summed up a lot of what was wrong with the Marines as one of the Three Powers pretty damn well. If you weren't a criminal, most of them didn't seem to care enough to look at you twice.
Nonetheless, the sniper shrugged. Even he, naturally anxious, couldn't help being drawn in by Luffy's excitement.
He'd felt relatively relaxed since they departed from Cocoyashi the previous day. He'd been able to keep his traitorous mind quiet by busying his hands working out kinks from Nami's Climatact, or fashioning a protective cover for the tangerine trees she'd had transplanted onto the ship. He'd even managed a whole three hours of sleep the night before.
Usopp had good reason for feeling … less unease, even if he struggled to articulate that reason. Though he still felt the absence of nakama they hadn't yet recruited, something shifted after the fight at Arlong Park. Luffy's ragtag band of fiercely independent dreamers had transformed into a whole greater than the sum of its parts. They each remained independent, yet a comforting sense of cohesion had settled between them.
Usopp couldn't resist basking in it.
"East Blue won't be safe for us anymore," Nami said, thinking out loud. "We need to make tracks for the Grand Line."
"Hey," Zoro called from the bow. "There's an island up ahead."
Luffy leapt over the deck and vaulted onto Merry's figurehead. He leaned forward with a hand over his eyes.
"Good," Nami said. "That means we're close. That's the last stop before the Grand Line."
The navigator slid her gaze sideways to Luffy with a knowing smile.
"That's the port of Loguetown," she explained. "It's also called 'The Town of the Beginning and the End.' Gold Roger was executed there."
She brushed her hair from her face.
"You wanna go?"
"The Pirate King," Luffy murmured, his excitement tinted by reverence. He nodded decisively. "Yeah."
The crew had docked within an hour.
They'd split up inside of two minutes.
("I'll scope out the market for supplies. And maybe a few cute girls~.")
Sanji to… be Sanji.
("I'm gonna find the execution platform!")
Luffy to discover and admire a historical landmark.
("I need to do some shopping, too."
"New swords, right?"
"Yeah."
"Here's some cash."
"Thanks. I'll pay you back.")
Zoro to acquaint himself with a more comfortable, appropriate number of swords.
("…"
"Um. Is there a reason you're glaring at me?"
"I could've had that muscle head in debt to me for years. With that over his head, I could've gotten him to do anything!"
"Oh. I wouldn't worry too much about that. Knowing you, it's only a matter of time before you figure something else out.")
Nami, doubtlessly, to make at least one clothing store manager cry. Either from rejection after being given false hope or through haggling. Odds were about even.
Usopp had a particular errand- an item- he sought himself.
First, though, a veritable treasure trove of materials awaited, just begging to be ruthlessly exploited.
Local junk shops.
Wado sighed. Her master had been forced to seek out replacement swords many times before. They were both familiar with the process.
"I'll give you 650,000 beri! You can buy much better swords that way!"
They did not usually encounter such insistent shopkeepers, though. The little balding man behind the counter grew increasingly noisy as he tried to negotiate a price for her.
Negotiate. With her master.
Wado almost pitied him.
"Look, that katana isn't for sale. Doesn't matter what price you quote at me."
She'd been her master's one constant companion for years. She knew, if nothing else, that as much as he was hers, she was his.
Roronoa Zoro's bullheaded dedication and unyielding spirit had no equal. (Among swordsmen, at least. The kid they'd taken to following was in a different league.)
"Wow!"
Wado glinted with mirth at the way her master went stiff. The woman they'd met earlier, who looked very similar to Wado's former mistress, had appeared. Wado suspected that, had Zoro's muscles not locked up in shock, he'd have unintentionally crushed the woman's glasses in his hand upon seeing her face.
He'd been lucky. And delightfully confused.
"I can't believe it! Wado Ichimonji, the Straight Road to Peace!"
"Wado what-now?"
Wado sighed again. Her master could also be more than a little dense. Not that she really expected him to know her title. He valued her for a promise- a much more personal reason. She didn't mind that.
"A real meito, one of the great grade swords! I've only read about them- nothing I've read could do this gorgeous craftsmanship justice!"
Although, being recognized felt nice sometimes, she confessed.
The shop owner kicked up a fuss over the woman's appreciative gushing. Something about sabotaging his business by outing Wado's status. She really didn't care. Her master returned her to his hip, where she settled comfortably. Watching him attempt to act cool in front of someone who bore such a striking resemblance to his childhood rival proved entertaining.
Zoro had neglected many of the milestones for social skills in the pursuit of his ambition.
"Three swords, huh? You're like that one bounty hunter."
"Oh, really? Which one is that?"
He did all right every so often, Wado conceded.
The woman came across as a chatty sort. Oddly, her master didn't seem bothered by it. He did have somewhat selective hearing, when he chose.
"This era's got a vast wealth of talent, yet it's all in aid of evil pursuits. Bounty hunters, pirates- the meito frequently end up in their hands. I can only imagine how sad they are, being used by those people like that."
Wado disagreed. She found the woman's perspective entirely too narrow. A blade lived to be wielded by hands capable of drawing out its potential. True, her master had fought and cut down many people. He'd only done so to eat, though, and he'd only ever been vengeful in accordance with his own code of conduct, never bloodsport.
Wado felt quite happy at his side.
"Someday, I'll collect all the meito and save them from evil hands!"
"You gonna 'save' this one?"
Wado listened to the woman sputter apologetically with fond exasperation. Her master couldn't help himself, it seemed.
She suddenly went rigid in her white sheath. A chill, or something like it, ran through her metallic frame. The shopkeep and the woman were squabbling again, though Wado couldn't hear them.
Her master had found a very interesting katana.
Sandai Kitetsu slept. Most days were indiscernible from one another- sit in the junk barrel, endure the steady chafe of idleness, repeat ad nauseam.
Kitetsu had lost track of the weeks by the time it ended. Withdrawn from its black sheath, it roused from a bored slumber.
"Get that one!"
A feminine voice exclaimed. All excitement, the woman rattled off Kitetsu's predecessors, classification, and price (which did not match the one advertised by the shopkeep at all.)
Trivial details.
Kitetsu found more interest in the strength and steadiness of the hand holding it.
"I can't sell that sword to you!"
The shopkeep gave his usual shriek.
"This katana is cursed."
Kitetsu, who had been half-prepared for the man to run off scared like many others, found itself intrigued. When asked, the man only replied
"I can feel it."
While the shopkeep jabbered about Kitetsu, its predecessors and the swordsmen who'd failed to wield them, it inspected the spirit of he who held it.
"I like this sword," he declared with a grin. "I'll take it!"
A fool, through and through.
Yet his was a foolishness born of confidence, not arrogance. A subtle difference, but then, Kitetsu had long been a discerning yoto.
"Okay," he said. "My luck versus this thing's curse. I'm not fit to wield it if I lose, am I?"
Kitetsu spun rapidly in the air above an outstretched arm, razor thin edge more than lethal and well-suited to slice through flesh and bone. The noisy protests of the woman and the shopkeep fell away.
The yoto found one critical, significant trait in the young fool's spirit.
Drive. An ambition to grow.
In Kitetsu's judgement, that weighed more than experience or even raw potential. A wielder who continuously sought out greater opponents, more battle, more blood. Talent meant nothing if left untapped. Complacency saw more potential wasted than any curse.
Kitestu dropped, blunt edge falling harmlessly against the man's arm. It sank into the floorboards nearly to the hilt, thrumming.
"I'll take it."
It had found a new master.
Yubashiri had been alert for the past few minutes.
Someone outside had awakened Kitetsu. Its voice sounded more alive than it had since falling into the shopkeeper's hands.
Almost gleeful, if such a word could be applied to a yoto.
The shopkeep came running into the back room. Yubashiri was glad to sate its curiosity as to who could provoke such a response from Kitetsu.
The man holding the black scabbard possessed a strong presence, yet Yubashiri couldn't figure what made him stand out without getting closer.
"Honestly, our stock's nothing impressive," the shopkeep said. "But this one's the best we have!"
Wait. That sounded like a sales pitch.
"I can't afford"
"Never mind money!"
Yubashiri pulsed with nervous energy, curiosity over Kitetsu's awakening almost forgotten. Being wielded, to fight battles, let alone alongside the yoto- Yubashiri had only dreamt of such excitement.
Yubashiri's new master took it into his hand and hung it at his waist. Three swords on one hip should have felt crowded, yet they seemed a natural fit.
Settled there, Yubashiri understood at once why Kitetsu had awoken.
"Excuse me, little lady."
Usopp called out to a young girl with long, intricately curled golden hair on the street. The girl herself had not been what drew the sniper's eye, however. Rather, the sniping goggles she held in her hands- government quality, lenses independently attached to the headband frame, tinted for protection against sunlight and glare- caught his attention.
The blonde, quite dressed up for all that she might've been nine years old, turned an impatient, unimpressed look on the marksman.
"What do you want?" She asked.
Usopp's greeting smile turned fairly plastic.
'Oh yeah,' he recalled. 'She's a brat.'
"Those goggles you're carrying," he said, cutting straight to the point and more or less matching her childish, brunt tone. Befitting a man almost twice her age? Probably not. Did he care? Ehh. "How much to buy them off you?"
The girl took on an innocent expression entirely betrayed by the amusement in her eyes. She raised the goggles in her hand, as if in question. With a twitch of his upper lip, Usopp nodded.
"Too bad, ossan," she said, smiling. "They're too expensive for you."
The sniper opened his mouth with a reflexive protest at her choice of words, yet realization crashed and burned into his mind. Technically, from at least one perspective, Usopp was nearer an 'ossan' than an 'onii-sama.'
Locking away that potential existential crisis, to be dealt with… preferably never, Usopp crossed his arms.
"I'll duel for them."
The marksman didn't think he'd been speaking very loudly, yet more than a few passersby gasped. The girl (read: brat), adopted a look of alarm, even going so far as taking a step back from him.
Then, her countenance shifted significantly, a genuine joy blooming across her face.
"Papa!" She cried, running around Usopp.
The sniper turned. A man clad in a wide brimmed hat, boots, fingerless gloves and a cloak that hid everything else from the neck down emerged from the mouth of an alley onto the street. Daddy Masterson, better known as Daddy the Parent (for obvious reasons), looked every inch the bounty hunter.
His sideburns, jutting out a bit from his face, even resembled gun barrels.
"Carol-chan!" He said. He crouched down beside her.
"I bought you a present," Carol said, presenting the goggles to him with a beaming smile. "Happy birthday, Papa!"
"I have the best daughter in the world!" Daddy exclaimed, cooing at her.
After lapping up her father's attention for a minute, Carol glanced back at Usopp, frowning.
"But Papa," she said. "That stranger's trying to snatch your present away from me!"
"Now now, Carol-chan," Daddy said. "It's impolite to accuse people."
The next second, Daddy's face, goofy with affection for his daughter, transformed into a glower pinning Usopp down. The sniper flinched reflexively at the sharp, sudden shift.
"Is there a reason," he said, standing up fully. "That you're pestering my daughter?"
Before Usopp could get a word in, Carol cried
"He threatened me with a duel!"
Daddy's gaze turned heated.
"Not her," Usopp said quickly. He raised his voice a little, intentionally drawing attention from any eavesdroppers. No one, pirate or otherwise, wanted a reputation for picking on little girls. "I'd duel her stand-in. Anybody she cares to name."
Carol's eyes widened briefly. She flashed a superior smirk at the marksman. That she made no protest over staking a gift for her father spoke of the ironclad faith she had in him.
"So," Daddy said. "You're willing to sort things out in a fair fight?"
Daddy tossed his cloak back over his shoulder- gun holsters lined his pant legs, shirt, belt, and the lining of the cloak itself. Usopp counted thirty pistols in all.
Though he'd faced much worse, his inner coward gulped nervously.
He nodded.
'What kind of moron would challenge Daddy the Parent to a duel?'
Nami wove her way through the still-growing crowd. She slipped to the front of the spectators with the practice of a thief by trade.
She paused once she got there.
"Oh," she said aloud. "That kind."
Specifically, one of her morons.
Fifty paces from those gathered, two men stood in profile relative to the crowd, backs to one another. One, Daddy the Parent, renowned East Blue sniper and a bounty hunter with, arguably, a reputation that rivaled Zoro's.
The other… Usopp.
Nami shouldn't have felt as surprised as she did.
"Muster up your courage, Long-nose!" Someone said, more for the sake of the atmosphere than Usopp himself.
"Don't worry about what happens after you lose," another said with grim humor. "It's a short walk to your grave!"
A couple people laughed at the reference to the tombstones lining the hill behind them. Nami sighed inwardly, tuning out the onlookers. She couldn't figure out why the marksman would seek out a duel in the first place. It seemed out of character for him- Usopp didn't call unnecessary attention to himself.
Still, Nami felt nearer confused than concerned. Usopp didn't have Daddy's name recognition, though she, at least, didn't know anyone with better aim. Usopp simply didn't miss, period. He wouldn't be any worse off with a gun.
"I'm not sure how I feel about this," someone said, markedly less enthused than the others. "It's not really a duel if there's only one pistol in play, is it?"
'… What.'
"There's nothing explicitly against it," someone else remarked. "And Daddy didn't set the terms. Long-nose apparently insisted."
"Still, this sort of feels like bullying."
"Anybody dueling Daddy's gonna feel a little bullied anyway, right?"
Nami's eyes flickered down to sniper's hand. To the slingshot, decidedly-not-a-pistol in his hand.
"Usopp!" She called, voice waspish. "What the hell"
"You get one shot," a young blond girl, standing opposite the crowd, said. Her voice rose over the muttered commentary. "Are you both ready?"
Usopp gave his confirmation a second before Daddy did. The bounty hunter, throwing an odd glance at the sniper over his shoulder, followed suit.
Nami, frowning with pinched brow, bit her thumbnail and watched. Though she avoided direct confrontation whenever possible as a thief, she knew the universal rules of dueling as well as anyone. Intervention, verbal or otherwise, would have severe consequences.
She stewed silently. Did Usopp plan to use Haki? He hadn't used it since his demonstration on Merry. He told her to keep it quiet, even said he'd avoid using it any earlier than necessary. Did this constitute necessary? A duel in Loguetown seemed utterly random in the grand scheme of things.
"Draw!"
Bang.
Twang!
Nami's ears registered the sound of Daddy's pistol before Usopp's shot.
A beat.
Usopp blew out a long breath. He lowered his slingshot, grinning amicably.
"Not bad," he said, turning his head to look behind him. "I only beat you by a second."
Nami followed Usopp's gaze. About thirty paces back, the street sported a spiderweb crack centered around a fresh chip in the cobblestone.
"Yes," Daddy said, casting an appraising look at his pistol. "You did."
The bounty hunter's mustache twitched.
"You've done well for yourself, Usopp." He said, much more quietly. Nami wondered at that comment. Though, from the murmurs of disbelief buzzing through the crowd, their focus lay elsewhere.
"What just happened?"
"Long-nose won!"
"You're kidding- did Daddy throw the duel?"
The bounty hunter's gaze flickered briefly toward the spectators. He raised his voice, clearly speaking for the benefit of ignorant onlookers and skeptics.
"You beat more than just my reaction time," he said. He raised his pistol, holding it flat in his hand. "Didn't just aim for my hand. You nicked the barrel and threw off my shot."
The bounty hunter tipped the brim of his hat toward Usopp.
"I'm impressed."
The younger marksman rubbed the back of his head.
"Well, uh, thank you."
No one else offered an alternative explanation for the duel's outcome. The crowd slowly dispersed.
"Carol-chan," Daddy said in a sweet tone, addressing the blonde girl. "He won, fair and square."
Carol looked at Usopp and scrunched up her nose. Though she seemed, for a moment, like she might offer some token protest, she sighed.
"Yes, Papa."
She handed a pair of goggles to the younger sniper.
"Thank you," he said. "One more thing, if you could give me some advice?"
Daddy inclined his head.
"Can you recommend me a gun shop?"
Daddy stared. Carol stared.
Hell, Nami stared. She'd seen Usopp decimate boulders with pachinko balls. He'd just proven he could match a seasoned gunman armed with only a slingshot. What did he need a gun for?
"You're an odd one," Daddy said, more curious than anything. "You refuse to duel with a firearm in favor of what most consider a children's toy. What can a gun do that you can't do for yourself?"
A dark scowl flashed across Usopp's face. It vanished so fast that Nami almost questioned whether she'd seen it at all.
She knew she had, though. She recognized the particular, volatile concoction of emotions in his expression. She'd felt it often enough herself, typically with a certain shark in mind.
"Not much." Usopp conceded ominously.
"I understand," Daddy said. The bounty hunter spoke quietly in deference to the sudden, palpable tension. "In that case, never mind the shops."
He tossed a pistol toward Usopp. The younger marksman caught it awkwardly in both hands, clearly surprised.
"Are you sure about this?"
"There are some men in law enforcement," Daddy said. "Who believe that if their weapon is lost, they're responsible for whatever happens afterwards."
The bounty hunter laid a hand affectionately on Carol's head.
"Of course," he said. "I haven't been a marine for a few years now."
With that, he turned and left, his daughter at his side.
Nami watched Usopp regard the flintlock in his hands. He secured it to the sash around his waist, on the hip opposite his slingshot. The cartographer wondered at the source of Usopp's nightmares, who his tormentors were. The inference came to her pretty easily.
The difference in results between a firearm and a slingshot wasn't exactly subtle.
Still, she sensed that particular line of questioning wouldn't be well-received. Besides, he hadn't interrogated her over her demons- none of her nakama did. She could reciprocate the courtesy.
"Was that entirely necessary?" She asked instead.
"Hm?" Usopp asked, blinking once at her. "Oh, yeah, absolutely. I mean, look at these goggles!"
The sniper spoke earnestly, pulling down one of the lenses over his right eye with a grin. Nami rolled her eyes.
"Of course," she said flatly. "I meant, couldn't you have done the same thing with a gun? You just dueled Daddy the Parent with a slingshot."
Just saying it out loud gave Nami goosebumps again.
Usopp shrugged.
"I didn't want to risk crippling his hand."
Nami shook her head.
'Not normal,' she thought. 'Not a single one of them is normal.'
The navigator glanced up.
"We need to reconnect with the others," she said. She hoisted her haul from her shopping trip over her shoulder. "There's a storm brewing, and it'll strand us here if we don't leave."
Nami ignored the look Usopp gave the cloudless sky. Anyone could feel the difference in the air preceding a change in barometric pressure.
She just knew what those changes meant.
The weight of the pistol at Usopp's hip felt borderline unnatural, and the sniper remained unusually conscious of every shift the weapon made against his leg.
He'd never gotten into firearms, in his current life or his last. His aim with a slingshot had always been superior, and he could reload his hands much faster than he could a flintlock. The thought of customizing a pistol or rifle for himself didn't cross his mind. The number of materials required to outfit a gun to his liking could serve him multiple ways in various other projects. And, ultimately, he hadn't found the recoil when the hammer came down quite as satisfying as the snap of the elastic when he took his shot.
Nonetheless, Usopp had a list. And he only needed the pistol as a situational weapon anyway.
Three situations. Three bullets.
The sniper cast his mind away from his grim line of thought. He and Nami ran into Sanji and Zoro at the edge of the town's central plaza. The cook held a large, tusked, strange-looking fish on his shoulder. The swordsman, whose timely appearance at that exact time and place could only be attributed to luck, had three swords on his left hip again.
"Where is he?" Zoro asked. He gave no clarification. None of them needed it.
"He said he wanted to see the execution scaffold."
"So," Sanji said. "Assuming he made it, he oughta be around here."
Usopp cast out a pulse of Haki, confirming Luffy's presence. Amidst the massive crowd in the square, though, even he couldn't pick out the rubber boy immediately.
Of course, the sniper had assumed his captain would be in the crowd. Somehow, he momentarily forgot one crucial detail.
"Oh shit…"
Luffy had never been 'lost in the crowd' once in his entire life. Usopp's captain stood out too much for that, regardless of conscious effort.
"He's on the damn execution scaffold?!"
"Fantastic," Nami growled. "And Buggy's got him. Again."
Luffy had his head and hands trapped beneath the top half of a pillory secured to the scaffold. Standing over him, Buggy held a sword, announcing Luffy's 'crime' of 'upsetting me!' and naming himself judge.
Usopp found his hands suddenly full of oversized seafood.
"Let's go," Nami said, snapping out directions. "We've gotta get to the ship before anyone else does!"
Before the sniper could hesitate more than a moment, he'd been essentially bullied by the cartographer into following her.
She did have a point, he conceded, having thrown out his Haki again. Someone had already reached the Merry.
Sanji shoved the elephant true bluefin onto Usopp almost before Nami-san even assigned him and Zoro their task of retrieving Luffy. If the cook weren't steamed and concerned, the absurdity of the scene would have been funny.
Honestly, a shitty clown had his captain at his mercy on the same scaffold used for the last Pirate King's execution. A clown that had Luffy at sword point.
"Ignore everything else," Zoro said, tying his black bandana around his head as they ran. "Just take down the scaffold!"
"Right!"
They didn't have time to trade barbs. Sanji booked it full pelt toward the square's center.
'I've staked my dreams on you, dumbass!'
Their journey couldn't end, dammit, they hadn't even started!
"I'M GONNA BE KING OF THE PIRATES!"
Luffy's declaration reached them loud and clear, stirring up the crowd with nervous energy.
Sanji clicked his tongue.
'We know that already, you idiot!'
"Stop the execution!"
Captain Smoker kept his eyes on the square as he doled out orders. He shifted his twin cigars between his teeth. Between Alvida, Buggy the Clown and Straw Hat, they had fifty million beri and change in wanted criminals all in one place. He hadn't seen that in a long time. He hadn't expected Roronoa Zoro's appearance, either, let alone his alliance with Straw Hat.
Not that it mattered, ultimately. His men had the plaza covered. Smoker himself could get down there faster than anyone. Pirates were pirates, and Smoker hadn't allowed any to escape in his time as a marine captain.
He hadn't been stationed at Loguetown by accident. He did his time as a foot soldier, and he put in his marked preference for a position in the Town of the Beginning and the End. Smoker had witnessed Gold Roger's execution twenty-two years ago. He knew what his final words had started.
There was a reason the only pirate crew from East Blue to even enter the Grand Line in years had been Don Krieg's.
They never docked at Loguetown.
Smoker glanced back- Tashigi had vanished. Around the time Roronoa's name came up, if he guessed right.
He huffed out a breath, unconcerned. He didn't make her his Chief Petty Officer for nothing. For all that she could be absent-minded, she believed in justice as a fundamental, and she had enough of a spine to ask questions and occasionally deviate from SOP. Most grown men hesitated to address Smoker any more than absolutely necessary.
He'd chew her out later. Assuming he remembered.
"The second Straw Hat's head rolls, move in."
Accumulating storms clouds rolled over an island in East Blue. Violent winds whistled through cobblestone streets.
None of the island's residents took much notice, however. Because in the town plaza, at the site which marked the birthplace of an era, one sparked by an infamous man whose death should have ended it, forces clashed. On the ground, two figures tore a path for the execution scaffold through dozens in a massive crowd. Within the surrounding buildings, a marine captain gave an order to prepare for battle.
On that scaffold, one man held a sword over another, arms already in motion to sever his head.
In that moment, a young, fledgling pirate captain saw death.
And he accepted it.
"Zoro! Sanji! Usopp! Nami!"
He shouted out the names of those he called nakama.
"Sorry."
The Captain grinned without a trace of fear.
"I'm dead."
In the instant the blade came arching down toward his neck, five people felt a shudder at their core.
"No-!"
A swordsman who'd sworn an oath of loyalty, gripped by a stroke of very real fear.
"Shitty rubber! Stuff that talk!"
A chef who'd gambled everything refused to accept it.
"Wait up!"
A cartographer who'd been freed dismissed the chill as an effect of the approaching storm.
"Someone's already near the ship!"
A sniper, who'd been through it all once before, recognized the sensation from another life. He reluctantly chose to believe in his Captain.
"He laughed."
And one Marine captain who'd not known the pirate's name until that day, felt a cold sweat on his brow, presented with a sight he'd only seen once more than two decades ago.
A man smiling in the face of death.
Inches away from ending the young captain's journey, sparks crackled around the blade. Like an act of divine intervention, a bolt of lighting struck the peak of the scaffold, blinding the crowd and illuminating the town in a thunderous flash.
Momentary blindness gave way to shock. The scaffold lay in smoldering pieces. A straw hat fluttered to the ground. Rain poured down and snuffed out the fire.
The pirate captain laughed, strolling up and collecting his treasure.
"Shishishi! Hey, I'm alive! Lucky!"
Words failed all- enemies and spectators alike.
"Do you believe in a higher power?"
The cook asked the swordsman, his tone far too conversational in the wake of an honest miracle.
"Do you?" The swordsman scoffed, dismissive.
"I'm... considering."
With both marines and pirates on their tail, the three fled the square for the port.
Amidst the chaos, a lone, cloaked figure escaped all notice, his monstrous presence carefully camouflaged. He walked in long, deliberate strides down an abandoned street. He, too, remembered the words of the infamous pirate twenty-two years gone.
"Indomitable will."
The storm brewed overhead.
"The dreams of those who claim the inheritance of previous generations."
His cloak snapped in the wind.
"The era's call of destiny."
Had anyone been around, they might have believed him to be the source of the storm.
"These are the ideals held dear by a man's heart. So long as people pursue true freedom, these things shall not vanish from this world!"
A flash of lightning cast a harsh light across the face of the revolutionary Dragon, who smiled, reminiscing on the final words of the Pirate King.
"A pirate, eh?"
The man rarely smiled. Yet, having witnessed the start of something grand, he couldn't have been more thrilled.
"A fine choice."
Wado sighed.
The female swordsman appeared again to interrupt their flight. Incensed by his perceived deception and mockery of her, she challenged her master immediately. Her master obliged readily while the kid and the pervert ran on ahead.
He gripped Wado's hilt more tightly than usual as they fought.
Wado had a solid idea as to why.
"I'm taking that meito from you!"
He could be a bit silly in his protectiveness at times.
The clash proved brief- her master had the woman disarmed and up against a wall in minutes. Kitetsu's edge thrummed inches from her face, lodged in the brickwork.
"I would die before I surrendered this sword."
Wado almost pitied the woman. She didn't hold Wado for long in the shop, yet Wado had been impressed by her. Clumsy and a bit awkward, perhaps, but the woman was pure to the point of naiveté. And, more importantly, nearly as driven as her master.
"I'm in a hurry."
Her master sheathed her. He kept Kitetsu in his left hand, mindful that there were still marines around.
"Why don't you kill me?!"
If she could, Wado would have slapped her master for pausing in the street.
"It's because I'm a woman, isn't it?"
Oh no…
Zoro's back went ramrod straight. His grip on Kitetsu tightened, and he bit down a growl.
Bad enough the marine woman looked just like Kuina. Beating her had been a bittersweet, disappointing reminder that his childhood rival, the girl he dreamed of defeating, was gone- he'd never get the chance to find out if he could have surpassed her.
"Do you have any idea how insulting that is? Forget wounding my pride as a marine, looking down me because of my sex is insufferable!"
Zoro clenched his teeth.
'You're insulted?'
He pivoted on his heel, stomping his boot into a puddle as he advanced on her.
'Maybe you can't help your appearance, but you've got no right to talk the same way!'
Zoro briefly considered attacking her again, just to vent his sheer frustration.
"Don't," he ground out, baring Kitetsu's edge at her. "You dare blame your loss on your fucking ovaries!"
Instead, he paraphrased what he'd told Kuina years ago, when he'd been the one to lose.
Tashigi- one of her men blurted out the name- looked stunned.
"You want me to put you down," Zoro said. "Get strong enough to make me. Whatever's between your legs has got nothing to do with it!"
He held his glare another couple seconds. The resemblance to Kuina grew more apparent the longer he looked.
He bolted.
Tashigi stood in the street, floored. She stared at Roronoa's back as the former bounty hunter made tracks for the port.
"Did he just," she muttered. "Encourage me?"
She bowed her head. Her men, uncertain, addressed her in stammers.
"S- Sergeant?"
She snapped her head up, throwing fisted hands over her head in aggravation.
"That's even worse than insulting me!"
She charged off into the darkened streets, leaving a confused squad of men behind to trail after her.
Smoker puffed at his cigars, waiting in the street. Straw Hat, trailed by one of his mates, came sprinting around the corner.
"Who's that?" Straw Hat asked, voice raised to a yell in the rain.
"Smoker," he answered shortly. His arms billowed outward, flesh changing into malleable white smoke. He sent two versatile, thick tendrils out. "Marine Captain. And you're not gonna see the ocean again, Straw Hat Luffy!"
Able to control his smoke's tangibility, he snagged Straw Hat easily and quickly.
The blonde one leapt for him, throwing out a kick for Smoker's face. He let his Logia powers manifest reflexively, and the pirate's leg whiffed straight through.
"Buzz off."
White Blow!
He blasted the blonde away with another, more solid column of smoke.
Frustrated, Straw Hat retaliated.
Gomu Gomu no Pistol!
Smoker made a note of the pirate's rubber powers as he dissolved his body. He reformed behind Straw Hat.
"You're the kid worth thirty million beri?" Smoker scoffed.
Did they just hand out bounties now?
He grabbed Straw Hat's head from behind and slammed him into the ground. He gripped the jitte on his back, intent on using the kairoseki tip to keep the pirate subdued until
Whap.
Another hand took Smoker's in an iron grip, locking his arm in place.
He turned his head, recognizing the hand's owner immediately, as any marine would.
As if on cue, a gale of wind blasted Smoker away from Straw Hat just as Roronoa appeared again.
"Luffy!" He yelled, snatching the rubber pirate captain. The blonde, recovered, matched their pace. The three of them seemed virtually unmolested by the elements as they ran on while Smoker's men, also assaulted by the storm, collected themselves. "We gotta go!"
"Damn," Smoker swore. "What's your game here, Dragon?!"
The cloaked revolutionary, the world's most wanted man, just smiled.
"What reason have I to keep a man from his voyage?"
With that pointed non-answer, Dragon vanished before Smoker could act.
The marine captain regrouped out of the storm. He harbored no delusions that he could track down Dragon's movements. The pirates were another matter.
"Captain Smoker," one of his men reported. "Those pirates have left the island. Uh…" he hesitated. "Alvida and Buggy also seem to have escaped."
"Forget the clown and his woman," Smoker said gruffly. He didn't miss a beat despite the setback. "Get the ship ready- we're headed for the Grand Line to pursue Straw Hat!"
Bellyaching and shock from his men. He ignored it all.
Straw Hat was bigger than a mark against Smoker's record.
"Good," Tashigi declared, back straight even as she stood soaked from the rain. "I'm going with you! I've still got business with Zoro!"
Smoker nodded wordlessly. He approved of her backbone.
"But sir," one of his men wheedled. "Your jurisdiction doesn't reach the Grand Line! What will our superiors say?"
Smoker stopped and pinned him with a glower.
"I give a rat's ass," he said. "Go tell them that!"
"Captain!"
Usopp cried out in relief at the sight of the monster trio racing for the ship. Merry hung onto the port by a single line. Luffy stretched and threw them all on board.
"You didn't have any problems, did you?" Usopp asked Zoro as they shoved off in earnest.
"Nope."
The swordsman said, a little too quickly. He shifted focus away from them immediately.
"You have any trouble?"
"Eh," Usopp shrugged. "Saw some kind of furry cosplayer trying to set the ship on fire. He was an idiot though, so he took a nap and I fed his lion."
Sanji stared at the sniper, his expression contorted. He scrunched his one visible eyebrow.
"Why does that sound like a euph- nope," he said, shaking his head. "I don't want to know."
"Know what?"
"There's a lighthouse!"
Luffy called the crew's attention to a beacon shining through the storm.
"That," Nami said, shouting over the wind and rain. "Is the light that marks the entrance to the Grand Line."
She grinned.
"What's it gonna be?"
'This is it.'
Heedless of the waves rocking the caravel or the rain pelting the deck, Sanji dragged out a barrel onto the bow.
"Let's head out for open ocean!"
Thunk.
The chef propped his foot on top of the barrel.
"To find All Blue."
Thunk.
Luffy followed suit.
"To be King of the Pirates!"
Thunk.
Zoro's boot on Luffy's right.
"To become the World's Greatest Swordsman."
Thunk.
Nami's heeled shoe.
"To draw a map of the world!"
Usopp took a breath, immortalizing the moment in his mind.
Thunk.
"To become a brave warrior of the sea!"
One purpose, one dream greater than the sum of all of their ambitions.
That was the source of their cohesion as a crew.
As nakama.
'We're going all the way this time!'
Smash!