Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece; that belongs to Eiichiro Oda.
A/N: Hello, Aliahra here. Welcome to my new story. Kinda curious how this will be received. It's technically a Semi-SI (Semi-Self-Insert to those unfamiliar with the term yet). This isn't something I've actually written before.
This is a general warning, but I am not in any way an expert. I take constructive criticism, but I get stubborn, or worse, demotivated if it's worded rudely. Please be kind. If you don't like the story, you don't have to read it. This story is mostly for me, I've just decided to also share it with all of you.
Regardless, I hope you enjoy the story!
WARNING: Strongly implied Child Abuse, and death. First Person only lasts for a small bit.
Chapter 1
As I lay there, broken and dying, I was asked a question.
The strangest thing about it wasn't the question itself. No, it was the fact it was my voice asking it, but it wasn't me who said it.
"If you could be reincarnated as anyone in One Piece, memories mostly intact, who would you choose?" it asked.
It was a great question to distract myself from my situation, so I considered it. I knew that whoever I reincarnated as I would only have the potential to be them. I had already experienced different situations they'd never get to, so I'd never be able to be them. So, if I was actually reincarnating as someone from One Piece, I have to only consider their starting point.
Although I would have to consider what their role was in the story and what effects they had. If I got to keep knowledge of One Piece, then I'd have to consider the possible ripple effects of my different actions. Knowledge is power, but misinformation could kill the wrong person.
I immediately discarded reincarnating as any of the Straw Hats. There were two reasons why. The first was the fact that I already knew their story. If I'm reincarnating into their world, I didn't want to have to follow a script or feel like an imposter. I want to live my own life. Not anyone else's.
The second was that I still wanted that story to happen. I love the story so much that I actually wanted to relive it. Hear it unfold. But I didn't want it to be my life. I'd rather write my own adventure, one with fewer spoilers.
I also didn't want to be any of the villains. They didn't hold my attention as possible reincarnations. I also didn't want to be any of the marines. I would not become one and I'd hate to remove any decent marines from the force.
That left three groups of people to choose from: the civilians, the pirates, or the revolutionaries.
As much as I think reincarnating as Makino would be nice, I didn't want to be a civilian again. You're helpless, relying on potentially corrupt marines or possibly pleasant pirates to protect you. Not to mention but life would just be boring.
One might say I'd be throwing my life away by choosing a more dangerous path, but I'd already tried living in 'safety' before. In my first life, I spent it getting all of my entertainment from books. This time, I wanted to have a life others would read and enjoy. But that doesn't leave a lot of options. It's their beginnings I would get, not their life.
It needed to be something that would give me an advantage. Somewhere safe enough to thrive as a child but dangerous enough to prepare me for the world. It also needed to be a person whose beginning I knew. Gambling and taking chances are fun, but it's not worth my whole life. If I really did get to live twice, I'm not just going to throw the chance away immediately.
Honestly, I could only think of one person I'd want to 'be' now. Reincarnating as this person gave me a guideline for survival along with so many possibilities to leave the impacts that I already wanted to make. I wouldn't be the same as him however, I'd just love to make use of his beginnings to try living my own life.
Dawn Island prepared the Monkey D family for greatness pretty well, along with Ace and Sabo. But I didn't want to be a Monkey D, and sorry to Ace, but I didn't want to be Roger's child either. I didn't want to be born with a death sentence above my head. Especially one that wasn't because of me and my actions.
Still, I did want to be friends with him. There was enough mystery in Sabo's life that I could easily live my own life. It'd be me trying to get things done and not a script I already knew. My effort, my actions, my decisions. There was at least one thing I knew wanted to do that he did. To run away from an unloving home and become Ace's and Luffy's sibling. Although, I guess that was actually two things. The blood loss was probably getting to me.
Can stomach acid dissolve blood? Oh, looks like it could. Stupid question really, I was watching it dissolve hardier things right now. Like bones. I wonder, how much of my hip bone was left? No, wait. I need to answer the question.
I didn't know if I'd naturally adjust to being male or if I'd have to experience being transgender. But it wasn't going to change my answer.
If I could reincarnate as anyone in One Piece, memories mostly intact, it would be Sabo.
"So be it." My own voice spoke to me.
The last sight of my first world was of my own guts spilling into my lap and my broken arms trying and finally failing to hold them in. Good thing there were no cars in One Piece. I could see the trauma carrying over. If I were unable to be in cars in a world like ours... That would not be fun.
He's almost four when he woke up from a nightmare of her death and actually realised that he was someone before Sabo. Why do all the reincarnation stories neglect to consider how the brain doesn't allow for an instantly mature mindset?
Heart racing and drenched in sweat, he (she? They?) could only hug himself (herself? themself?) for comfort. Taking a glance around the bare but elegant room revealed that there wasn't even anything to use for comfort like a soft toy. There's a pang of sorrow for the doll she'd had since her birth, merely holding her would bring her anxiety down to manageable levels. Though they (he? she?) supposed she's gone now, forever.
That's what death and reincarnation into a different world would do after all. Take everything away.
A fluffy pillow made for a poor replacement, but it helped. It put pressure on an intact midriff without using their (her? His?) hands and it didn't smell of blood and guts. Their (his? Her?) breath was unstable. Too deep and too shallow, too fast and too quick, all at once. But Sabo now at least had memories of breathing exercises from seeing a psychologist in her past.
It's a bit of a head trip. He remembers being her for a long time. There's a lot of blank spaces in it, but after remembering her death, it's not a surprise. But she kind of remembers being him too. It was so clear he was affected by her buried memories. Reading and math came so easily, though his writing was illegible due to poor motor control, and he could only prove he was smarter and learning the concepts faster than average.
Not that this gained him decent enough love from his parents. They were ecstatic to have a prodigy child, but he still couldn't learn fast enough. At least now he knew better parents, ones that loved her regardless of what they could give them, even if she only had feelings and impressions of them rather than solid memories.
They were going to get out of here. Maybe not now, they wouldn't be able for the next few years. But they would get out of this unloving home.
They wanted Ace and Luffy. She wanted to have brothers again. He wanted to experience a family that actually cared about him.
They'd need to be able to survive in the wasteland outside the city. They'd need to be able to actually get out of the city too. But they also had to make it so that they won't be dragged back here if spotted. Like he was, would have been, like the character had. How could they fake his (their?) death? Convincingly enough so that even if they were to run past their sperm donor, he wouldn't actually consider the possibility of them being his son.
They brought a hand up to their hair. It's buzz short and curly. When it's longer it should be wavy instead, if her memories served them correctly. They consider their body, it's male. It doesn't, thankfully, feel wrong. Just… weird. Short seemed to be the biggest thing that made everything feel weird.
Height? Short. Limbs? Short. Hair? Short.
They'd be tall eventually. The alternate adult Sabo was about two inches taller than she had used to be. Which is about five centimetres if memories of her old school ruler could help her guesstimate. Do they use metric or imperial in this world? She hoped it would be metric because then they already knew it.
They needed to be able to disguise themselves, at least partially, whenever they'd need to enter the city. They already were a girl once; it won't be weird to disguise themself as one. Though it won't hold up when they're older and puberty happens. But by then they'd hopefully be unrecognisable. The passing time blurring everyone's memory of his (their?) face.
They get up and rejoice at the ability to walk. There was no need for her to relearn how to do so, and she could feel the cold ground. It banished the last parts of the nightmare they knew they'll be revisiting eventually. She died, unable to feel her legs. It was only for those too long minutes as her innards spilled out and her blood-drenched everything, but they could feel their legs again.
It made her death feel like a nightmare. Like it didn't happen. But she was here in their head, and he wouldn't be able to know the things they do now if not for her.
It happened.
Acknowledging this didn't stop the tears of happiness that washed away the salty tears of fear still clinging to a baby's face. They had to wipe them away so they could actually look outside. High Town clearly gained its name from both being high up and from the status of people in its ring. There's a wall holding back the more common city occupants and another wall outside that holding back the trash that's visible even from here. It was all tiered, like a cake, or Gondor but lesser and without the mountain.
There's a faint soft light over the horizon, dawn will be here soon. They won't need to sleep, but they could laze in bed and wait for servants to arrive and help them get ready for the day. They returned the pillow in their grip to the bed, but they didn't return to it themself just yet.
Nothing too loud, but there had to be some things they could do to start training their body. Going through all the stretches she knew gave them time to think of other things they could also do. Their flexibility was immediately different from their past life's. Her arms used to bend back at the elbow further than they should have. She could also rotate her joints more than they could. But they can bend further. A child's flexibility is something they can lose if they don't strive to keep it or improve it.
They make a note in their head to do this at least twice a day. In the morning and at bedtime, they should have enough time to do it. Finishing the static stretches they slowly go through the dynamic stretches, careful to not make too much noise and to do them correctly with a body unused to them. They almost fall or stumble too much for their liking.
They needed to get stronger. Bluejam was the only known threat they'd face in the future, but he's a fully grown adult and a merciless pirate. It was never said when he came to the Terminal, he could be there already for all they knew. If worse comes to worst, they may have to avoid him on their own. It took Luffy three months of constant chases and an actual torture session to gain Ace's trust.
They're expecting it would have been a lot harder for character Sabo to have gained Ace's trust. But this was something they really wanted. They're not going to fail at this. Ace better get ready to be loved so much he won't know what to do.
They dive back into bed when they hear the sound of footsteps in the hall outside. The sun had actually risen now but Sabo ached in all the good ways after so much stretching. They're as ready to tackle the day as they could be.
Their fourth birthday came and went, and Sabo had not changed their desire to get the hell out of here. Being a noble wasn't a privilege. Their parents were self-obsessed, unloving, social-climbing obsessed, bigoted arseholes. After experiencing the two as them instead of just him, they're so much worse.
They almost wished they didn't remember once having supportive and loving parents so the treatment they got wouldn't hurt so much.
The studying alone wanted to overwhelm them. Their young brain, through spongy and able to absorb information faster, often felt like it was cooking in their skull at almost all times of the day. A part of it at the beginning was recalling being her and the pieces finally connecting to form half a puzzle with a lot of its pieces permanently lost. But the two knew their son was an academic genius and they felt it necessary to capitalise on this trait and shove everything they could into their skull.
A lot of the servants weren't much better. Some were uncaring when looking after Outlook's heir, just wanting their paychecks and doing their jobs with a detached air. Some were downright cruel in whatever ways they could sneak in. Whether it was because they didn't like nobles, hated his family, or were trying to sabotage him on orders of other noble families, they kept trying to bring them down.
A few were kind, but they were all too distant for their affection starved self. Honestly, they can't remember being touched once in the past few months in a manner that could be considered positive. Just wacks of the cane when their writing wasn't picture-perfect and little painful taps of books when being lectured. There were also painful tugs when the servants insisted on dressing them as if they didn't know because she did. But he hadn't, so they couldn't even complain about it.
A lifetime of learning meant everything they taught them stuck. But still, whenever they were asked a question, they had to occasionally make it believably wrong. This meant more painful but undamaging hits and harsh reprimands. A part of them wanted to answer correctly all the time to make it stop. But they persisted.
Even telling themself it was pain endurance training didn't always help. Words could cut a child so deeply, and their mind, for all their experience, was still a child's. The wounds all lingered.
The best times of their day were dawn, light's out, and the hour of free time they were allowed. The hour of free time was supervised, so they couldn't do any exercise then, but they could study what they actually wanted and knew they'd need, like navigation and survival in the wilderness. Stretching became a comfort, and the few exercises they could do silently were fun.
Miming swinging a pipe and light but fast footwork joined the morning activities too, but only more recently. When they could finally still keep enough energy afterwards to do so. Previously they were an activity only for after light's out. There, even if it tired them out, they could just sleep it off.
The nightmares about her death happened randomly once every fortnight. They knew they had at least nine days minimum afterwards to have a more peaceful sleep, but a rough day could create its own nightmares.
Sabo really hoped they'd at least reduce after getting out of this barbed, gilded cage.
They're five and life still sucked.
Their parents were as terrible as ever, the tutors prone to physical and emotional punishment like always, and the kinder servants were too distant to make up for anything. But they were at least allowing them to now have a more physically intensive talent to go with the mentally exhaustive studying and emotionally scarring treatment.
It had nothing to do with combat, at least, not to the outside. Dancing had a lot to do with footwork and flowing from one movement or position to another. It worked out the whole body. They started and stayed better than average. Though not a genius, it was enough to get to branch out a bit in an unusual way with it, mostly learning other countries dances. Free time could now consist of some actual dancing or 'dancing' with an imaginary pipe in addition to personal studying and research.
They'd now branched into the area that would gain the most attention if anyone checked what they were reading.
How to fake a death.
Unfortunately, there wasn't a book with that title and all the necessary secrets held within. It took some mystery novels, survival books, and biology texts to help them construct a plan.
They were going to go big with this. Something so big that all the nobles would know Sabo, heir of Outlook III, was dead. Then even if any of his blood relations saw and possibly recognised them, they wouldn't be able to drag them back quietly. Gossip could be insidious after all.
It will take a while to get everything together, but they're light of foot and short of stature. They could sneak around the house pretty easily. Acquiring late night snacks were a good test of skill.
The social outings that recently started up really sucked. They're almost all with families of higher stature, so when one family's brat started to assault them, they wouldn't even be able to fight back. It was pretty cool managing to withstand the brat's weak attacks though. They knew they unnerved the kid by maintaining eye contact and not flinching. Honestly, they hardly felt the strikes. The force yes, but there wasn't any actual pain.
Their egg donor wasn't pleased with their stare even though she commended them on not fighting back.
Sabo couldn't die fast enough.
Their survival books were memorised. They're wearing their cheapest but also most durable clothes. The top hat and goggles sat on their head, covering their bright blond hair. A homemade bomb sat under their bedsheets. Pig flesh and a bundle of bones that resemble a human's lay in their bed.
A threatening note was written with her handwriting and stabbed into the wall outside the blast radius they'd calculated. They'll have maybe a minute to get out of the building and not much longer to get to the lower town and then into the Grey Terminal.
Sabo knew they couldn't mess up their sole chance to escape. They lit the fuse, then they're out of there without looking back.
Good riddance. They thought as they successfully got out of the city. The Grey Terminal stunk, they'd no doubt lose their sense of smell if they stayed here too long, but it's already so much better than High Town. They were allowed to pick up a pipe and smash the kneecaps and crotch of anyone that tried anything untoward them.
They ditched a part of their outfit for some clothes more appropriate for the area, but the boots, underwear, coat, and hat stayed. Time to put all the training and research to good use.
Surviving in the Grey Terminal was tough. If they hadn't studied surviving in the forest so much, they knew they would've had to sneak into the city at some point. Most of the people there ignored the child in their midst, too focused on their own survival.
Some were arsehole-y enough to attack a child for no reason. Most just attacked them because they had food. They only ate there when food of good enough quality to not make them sick was dumped there. A crate of bruised produce, stale bread that wasn't mouldy yet. Things like that. Their stomach wasn't tough enough for anything riskier yet.
Meat had to be hunted in the bandit infested forest though. Finding an area safe to do so took quite a bit of scouting and listening in to some hushed conversations. The animals in the forest were indeed larger than average. Fiercer too.
But Sabo was determined, and willpower mattered in this world. Not trying to illude that they could use Haki already. A bit difficult to even try unlocking or training it as a noble child. It involved a bit of trickery, but they managed to use a sneak attack to disorientate a boar from above, aggro it enough to get it to crash into a tree, and, while stuck in the said tree, brain it to death with a pipe.
It was their first successful hunt, but it was also their first kill. They suppressed the complicated emotions and focused on cooking the boar.
They knew how to make a fire, and burning the meat wasn't something that bothered them in the process of learning to cook on one. Though the knife they managed to find in the dump had to be held over the flames for a long time to become hot enough to cut through the thick hide. On the plus side, they knew it was sterilised now.
The boar meat was speared and propped up above the flames. There's too much for them to eat, but they needed to eat their fill. Maybe they could try smoking the leftovers. They hadn't read much about the process, but they might be able to through trial and error.
There was a growl behind them. Sabo spun around; their pipe held at the ready. It wasn't an animal as the sound had made them expect, but they didn't let their guard down. A freckled child their (or is it just his?) age glared at them, a pipe in his own grip. The growl was a D's stomach. As much as Sabo wanted to be friends with him, they weren't going to just let Ace eat all of their hard-earned meat. It had been two months since the last time they had eaten any meat and they were a little desperate to taste it again.
At some unspoken signal, they both charged. The metal pipes met each other with a clang.