Pirate King's Smile
"Did you hear?"
"You mean, about the event?"
"Yes! I heard there's going to be a public execution today!"
"You're kidding! In this day and age?"
"The Marines are going pretty far this time…"
The group of women stood clustered together in front of market stall, sheltered from the sun by the striped awning overhead and away from the crowds of people packing the main avenue. They whispered rumors and hung close together like any other day. Usually, they got together to shop and share stories and news (much to the stall owner's annoyance, since they hardly bought anything from him, and simply used the space to relax). But, today, the entire seaport was buzzing with gossip about the upcoming event. An infamous man had been captured, and was going to meet his fate here, in very town he was born in.
With the amount of noise in the market and the gaggle of babbling ladies blocking most of his view, the bored produce vendor didn't notice a scrawny youth creep next to his stall, hiding just under his line of vision. The boy slowly poked his head over to check if the coast was clear, then slowly reached out to grab a South Blue melon.
A flash of red hair was what drew the vendor's notice, and his attention snapped over to the teen, who now cradled the melon under an arm. Before the man could even make a noise of protest, the lad grinned and darted off.
"Hey! Stop that thief!"
Laughing to himself, the young man zipped nimbly through the throngs of shoppers, listening for sounds of pursuit. Behind him, a shrill whistle sounded. Not daring to look back, he kept running. He could hear some startled people shouting in his wake, as well as angry yells and pursuing footsteps. He didn't worry. They had never caught up with him before.
Shanks had been living like this for a long time, hiding in the shadows of Rogue Town and snatching whatever he needed to survive on a daily basis. At fifteen, he was fairly limber, his skinny frame hiding great physical prowess (at least, that's how he thought of it). His only clothing was a white sailor's shirt and a pair of black shorts, which didn't stand out much. His bright red hair always gave him away, though. Inevitably, this would result in him being chased.
Lost in the glee of his escape, the boy didn't see where he was going, promptly running into a huge form. He fell backwards onto his rump, the melon he had stolen rolling out of his grasp. Cursing, Shanks looked up, only to find he had run into a tall, cloaked figure, it's face hidden by the glare of the sunlight behind him.
Shanks swore loudly. Well, this was the end. It was bound to happen at some point, and now he was going to be carted off to jail. If he had only paid attention…
The hooded person turned his head upward, looking across the crowd to see Shank's pursuers. Then he looked back down at the sullen boy. Although Shanks couldn't see it, the figure smiled.
Reaching down, the shrouded being grabbed the South Blue melon in one large hand. "Well, if you want to escape, you had better stand up." The man (Shanks guessed, seeing as he had a deep voice) held his free hand down to Shanks' level, offering a hand up. Confused, yet grateful, Shanks took the hand, and was hoisted up onto his feet. Whoever this man was, he was strong.
"Follow me," the hooded man said, and he set off at a run through the crowd, looking like some billowy phantom as his cloak waved behind him. Shanks, without any other ideas, ran after him. He had a hard time keeping up, as his mysterious rescuer seemed to glide through the packs of market-goers without slowing down. Suddenly, the man slid into an alley on the left, and Shanks had to skid to a halt before skittering into the shadowy space himself.
Shanks held his breath, waiting in the shadows. Behind him, the cloaked figure merely stood at the back of the alley, his arms folded. The stolen melon sat in the dirt at his feet. Outside, the Marines that had been hunting for Shanks went by, shouting and shoving people aside. When the sound of this died away, Shanks let out a sigh if relief, sliding down the rightmost building's wall into a sitting position.
Looking up, Shanks saw the blue sky overhead, and watched as a couple of seagulls freewheeled above. The shrouded man came over beside him, still standing and still hard to read any facial features of. He handed Shanks the stolen melon, which he took.
"Th…Thank you," Shanks said, still shocked by the man's aide. Why in the world would he help him?
There was silence between them for a long time. Then, the man said, "Tell me. What is your name?"
"Um…Shanks," the teen replied, caught by surprise at the hooded person's words.
"Shanks…" The figure seemed to contemplate this before continuing. "And you do this often?"
"Yeah." Shanks shrugged his shoulders in a casual way, but inside he was worried. What if this guy had helped him just so he himself could turn him over to the Marines himself? Was there some sort of reward for him?
"I see. And what of your parents?"
Another long, uncomfortable pause.
"…They're dead." Shanks muttered, lowering his gaze. He hadn't thought much about his parents' death for a long time. Now, anguished memories flooded back to him. Back to the day of that terrible squall…
"I'm sorry," the man said, crouching down to his level. Now Shanks could see his eyes. They were big, black eyes, with a hard look to them, but a wizened feel behind them. "You seem to be doing alright on your own, however…Although, you'll need to hide yourself a little better. Here."
And the man withdrew, from the folds of his robes, a wide-brimmed straw hat. It was a nice hat, new and clean looking. He placed the hat on Shanks head, and Shanks was surprised that it fit him as well as it did.
"Keep this hat and lay low," the figure said, standing up. "It will make you a bit more inconspicuous, since it hides your red hair. I wish you luck, Shanks."
As he turned to leave, Shanks caught a glimpse of the man's face, which appeared to be tattooed with strange markings. Who was this guy?
"Wait!" Shanks called, leaping to his feet and staring at the back of the retreating figure. "Who are you? I never got your name!"
The strange man paused. Without turning around, he spoke.
"My name…is Dragon."
And with that, he was gone.
---
The morning heat didn't improve as the afternoon rolled in. The sea breezes were oddly low that day, and the waves of heat began to shimmer in the squares of Rogue Town. Places of shade were soon packed with people, and local fountains became spots of relief for the mischievous boys that splashed in the water. Although the weather made for sluggish going and uncomfortable travel, the mood of the island city was of general excitement. Already, citizens and travelers alike were starting to gather in the historic Execution Square, trying to get the best view possible of the imposing wooden platform that towered over the area. It was there that, later that evening, history would be made.
But elsewhere, with no concern for the execution, Shanks was taking it easy, resting in the shade of a palm tree growing in a small city green. He kept turning his stolen melon over and over again in his hands absently, staring into its surface as if expecting to discern some mystic clue. His thoughts still lingered on the stranger who had helped him. Who was he really? Why would he bother helping him? Was he a fugitive? A pirate, maybe?
Sighing, the boy set his hard-earned fruit on the ground beside him and took the straw hat from his head, twirling it in his fingers and puzzling over it. He liked the hat, and it did serve its purpose of hiding his red hair. Perhaps that man, Dragon, was also a thief of some sort. Either way, Shanks was grateful he had run into him (literally). He'd ponder these things later. Right now, though, it was time to reap his prize. His stomach rumbled in agreement.
Shanks set the straw hat back onto his head, than turned to grab the melon at his side. He was surprised, and a little confused, as his face nearly collided with another face, his nose suddenly pressed against a red, rubbery ball. Shanks found himself looking into another pair of equally shocked, bulging eyes. For a couple seconds, both he and the other person remained frozen. Then, they both shrieked and backed away.
The other youth, roughly the same age as Shanks, was very strange looking. The red ball that Shanks had felt was the dominating feature, standing in place of a regular nose. His eyes were rather large, and the eyebrows above them almost seemed purposely stylized. He was dressed in a black buttoned shirt and white trousers, and wore a black beanie on his head. The odd kid seemed to be wearing rather large shoes.
A clown, Shanks thought, still watching the unmoving boy, who stood in an awkward crouch. He looks like a clown. What a weirdo! Why would anyone in they're right mind dress like that?
It was then that he noticed that the clown was holding his South Blue melon.
Before he could react, the bizarre lad gave a huge (almost unrealistic), mocking grin, then spun around and began to sprint away across the green, the fruit tucked under one arm. Cursing, Shanks leapt to his feet and charged after him, the slick grass underfoot barely slowing him down.
For the second time that day, Shanks found himself in the midst of a chase, only this time he was the pursuer. The clown-boy was fast, but Shanks was gaining on him as they both charged down a gentle, grassy hill toward pavement at the edge of the green. Two market streets branched away from the green, and the thief seemed to be gunning for the one on the left. Grinning, Shanks began to steer his course that way in an attempt to cut the clown off, but the kid suddenly dashed sideways to the right, his feet reaching the stone path. Shanks found himself having to make an unexpected adjustment, losing speed in the process. The clown vanished around a corner.
Wasting no time, Shanks scrabbled down the street as fast as he could recover. He caught sight of the thief skirting into an alleyway next to a fishmonger's stall. Growling to himself, Shanks turned down the same alley. Ahead, he could see Clown-Boy running. The youth looked over his shoulder, gave a little cry at the sight of Shanks, and quickened his pace. Shanks shouted something unintelligible and, panting hard, continued his pursuit. The alley, he could see, was going to open up into another series of market stalls, and he couldn't risk losing Clown-Boy in the crowds.
Shanks burst from the darkness of the alley into the blazing sunlight. As he squinted against it, looking for any sign of the dirty little crook, something wet and sticky hit him in the face. Startled, the teen fell backward onto his rear, his nostrils suddenly full of the smell of sugar. He reached up and pulled the pie tin off, licking some of the tasty goop off his chin. Chocolate.
Someone was laughing manically in a high-pitched voice. Wiping some of the chocolate frosting and pie bits off of his face, Shanks spotted Clown-Boy just to his left, standing by a stall selling sweet pastries and cackling away, the melon still clutched under one arm. The stall owner, a plump woman in baker's attire, was shouting at the two of them from behind the stacks of pies and cakes. A number of people stopped and stared at the scene. So much for laying low, Shanks thought, mentally kicking himself for not being prepared.
He lost his cool. With a roar, Shanks threw his entire body at the laughing boy in a tackle. The clown gasped and tried to escape, but Shanks landed on top of him, knocking the two of them backward into the flimsy stall. With a crash, the whole thing gave way, sending pies, cakes, and cookies flying into the air and down on top of the wrestling teens. The baker woman promptly fainted, collapsing into a pile of frosting and pie crust. The surrounding shoppers were showered with pastries.
In the confusion, Clown-Boy broke free of Shanks' grip and ran off again, slipping slightly in the sticky mess that now covered the street. Shanks was up and was off like a shot, following close behind the clown as he veered into an empty side street.
The distance between the two exhausted boys closed swiftly, and Shanks once again hurled himself on top of the strange kid, both of them collapsing hard to the cobbled street. Shanks gripped the other with his knees around the legs to keep him from getting away, then reached down and turned the thief over onto his back. The melon rolled away to the side.
"Alright, you cocky ba-" Shanks started, but suddenly started to chuckle. The clown-kid's face was covered in bits of frosting, chocolate, filling, and pastry, making him look funnier then he had expected. Looking at his own arms covered in the stuff, the red-haired teen's chuckles turned to giggles. Clown-Boy also started to snigger, amused by the stickiness that covered his pursuer as well as his own clothing. Shanks' giggles soon turned to laughter, and he slid off of the clown and sat, cracking up, beside him. The other boy also sat up and continued to laugh.
Shanks suddenly grabbed a little piece of cake of his shoulder and, laughing, threw it at his companion. The clown grabbed a glob of pie and threw it back in amused retaliation. The two boys continued to throw clumps of sugary sludge at each other, their laughter growing all the while.
The melon lay a few feet away in the dusty street, all but forgotten.
---
"So," Shanks said, through a mouthful of half-chewed fruit, "What was your name again? Boogie?"
Both he and the other young man were sitting with their backs against a large crate, just across from the busy dockside traffic. After their initial introductions, the bizarre clown-like boy had explained that he was simply desperate for food, and was the same case of "steal to survive" as Shanks. The red-haired youth agreed that their was enough for the both of them, and was kind enough to share the melon with his new acquaintance. They now gratefully swallowed the sweet, juicy pieces and watched as ships moved about the sparkling ocean.
"It's 'Buggy'. Don't forget," the other teen answered, popping another melon bit into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
Shanks swallowed, then said "Alright, Buggy. You know, that's an odd name. It fits you."
Buggy raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Are you saying I'm odd?"
"I've never seen anyone who looked like you before," Shanks chuckled. "I mean, you have a really weird nose."
Suddenly, Buggy leapt to his feet and grabbed the surprised Shanks by his shirt collar, pulling him up so they were face-to-face. "What did you say!" the clown shouted, spraying spittle all over Shanks' face. He looked livid, and a small vein had appeared in his forehead. "My nose is great! Take it back!"
"Hey! Whoa! Sorry, man!" Shanks sputtered, giving an unnerved smile. Although Shanks knew he was the stronger of the two, he had obviously struck a nerve with his new friend, and was a little afraid of what Buggy might do. "I didn't mean it! Could you let me down?"
Buggy seemed to soften slightly, than sighed and slowly slumped to the ground, letting go of Shanks shirt. He shut his eyes for a moment, blinked rapidly, than gave an apologetic look.
"Wow…Sorry about that. I don't know what came over me," said Buggy, who shrugged and stared down at the cobblestones at his feet. "I just get set off whenever people make fun of my nose. They're always laughing at it. I'm never taken seriously because of my nose." As he said this, Buggy poked at his round, red nose with his index finger.
"Gee…I didn't know. Sorry again," Shanks replied. He paused for a moment, than said. "Is that why you're living on the streets like I am?"
Buggy nodded. "Everyone in my hometown insulted me because of my looks. They said I looked like some freak clown. Then I heard about a circus that traveled all over East Blue, and they were based on Mirror Island."
"Mirror Island?" Shanks inquired. "You mean that place where they hold the big dancing competitions?"
"Yeah," replied Buggy. "That's the place. I figured I'd fit in at a traveling circus. They're very rich performers, and lots of people pay plenty of Berries to see their shows." The teen rubbed his hands together, a twinkle in his eyes. "So, I figured I'd join them and get rich by becoming a clown. Only trouble is, transport to Mirror Island is expensive, and I didn't have enough money. Then I found out that they were performing here in Rogue Town for week. So, I packed up all my belongings one night and hopped a passenger ship that was headed here."
"But…we hit a storm halfway, and it lasted for three days. We were delayed, and I by the time I got to this island, the circus had already pulled out. I had spent all my money on the trip, so I was stuck broke, with no way to get passage off. That's why I'm here."
Shanks took a moment to let the information sink in. So, here indeed was another street urchin that he could relate with, cheated out everything by Fate. He could feel a bit of kinship with Buggy.
"So, what about you?" Buggy asked, looking up at him. "It's only fair that you tell me your story now that I've told you mine."
This was something Shanks had been expecting, and something he didn't want to delve into. Quickly, he changed the subject, pointing toward the harbor. "The docks are usually busier this time of day. Where is everyone?"
Buggy raised an eyebrow, the smirked. "You don't know? I've been hearing people chatter about it all over town! The Marines are holding a public execution today!"
"Whoa, really?" Shanks said, surprised. "Why would the Marines do something like that? This must be a pretty important criminal."
The red-nosed boy laughed. "Are you kidding? They've caught the Pirate King himself! Gold Roger!"
Shanks gasped. The name of Gold Roger was both as famous as it was infamous. He had sailed completely around the world by way of the Grand Line, the dreaded sea-route, and had amassed more wealth than any other pirate in history. Because of this, he became known as the "King of Pirates", and that title was acknowledged even by other sea dogs.
"I was going to go see it myself," Buggy went on, sneering a little. "After all, how often is it in a lifetime that you get to see someone this famous in person. Even if they're going to lop off his head!" He made chopping motion with his right hand as he said this, smacking it against his left palm for effect.
Dazzled, and little excited by this, Shanks got to his feet. The thought had crossed his mind every once and awhile, usually when he was resting in some dingy alley or dirty street side, that maybe a pirate's life wasn't so bad. It couldn't be much worse than what he was doing now, and he had wanted for a long time to travel away from the wretched city he now lived in.
"Do you know where they're holding it, Buggy?" Shanks said excitedly.
Buggy also stood. "At that historic square in the center of town. They used to hold executions there in the past, I think. There's a big wooden platform that stands over the whole place."
"What are we waiting for, then?" Shanks cried. "Let's go see it!" As morbid as the whole thing sounded, the young man suddenly felt great excitement at the thought of seeing a living legend. He grinned broadly, than began to sprint in the general direction.
Buggy, a little surprised by his new friend's sudden enthusiasm, chortled loudly before following the boy with the straw hat.
---
"Gold D. Roger! You have hereby been charged with the willful commission of crimes against the World Government, and have been proven guilty on all counts! Your punishment for your actions is to be put to death here, before the eyes of the public!"
The sun had begun to sink toward the horizon, casting the sky into a multitude if fiery gold and red colors. The spectacle, though, was lost on the massive crowd that now filled the Execution Square, each jostling each other to get a better view of the imposing structure that loomed darkly over the throng, shadowed eerily in the fading light. The speaker, a man dressed in the standard white sailors uniform of the Marines, stood on the edge of the platform, stoically reading an unfurled scroll clenched in his hands.
This, to the dismay of Shanks and Buggy, could not be seen from their current position.
"I can't see a thing from over here!" Buggy said angrily, trying to peer over the heads in front of him. "At this rate, we'll miss the whole thing!"
Shanks wasn't paying much attention. He was trying to think of a way to get closer. The two had arrived just before everything had started, yet people had flocked to the square much earlier. They now found themselves at the very back of the crowd, and unable to see the execution platform at all.
"Your list of various crimes includes, chief among them, the willful commission of piracy against civilian and Marine vessels, robbery, larceny, murder, kidnapping, forgery of government documents…"
"Shanks!" Buggy shouted, glaring at his silent companion. "Think of something!"
For his part, Shanks had formed a clever (and quite humorous) idea. He chuckled to himself, than smiled at Buggy. "Hold on a sec," Shanks said. "I'm going to move up through the crowd and see if I can find a break, ok? I won't be long, and I'll come right back."
Buggy frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "Fine, fine. Just hurry, alright?" he growled.
Shanks nodded, than began to push his way through the crowd until he was out of sight. Then, the youth crouched down and waited, grinning evilly to himself. If this worked, it would be quite a laugh. A few of the people around him gave the youth odd looks, but he just smiled back up at them, and they would shrug and return to watching the execution.
"…Endangering an admiral of the Marines, the illegal trade of endangered Opo birds, impersonating a government official…"
Buggy, meanwhile, tapped his foot impatiently. This whole thing was making him angry. If they didn't find a better vantage point soon, they would miss their only chance to see the Pirate King in-person. He could feel his teeth grinding together in rage. If things didn't look up soon…
From the wall of spectators, Shanks reappeared. Buggy barked "Well? Did you find anything?"
Shanks had a mischievous look about him as he tried to keep a smile down. "Actually, I found this little spot where it's not so bad. This guy I ran into said we could move up there if we liked." Shanks paused, than (trying not to bust out laughing) said "Oh! That guys says that he knows you, Buggy!"
Buggy looked a little confused. "Huh? Me?"
"Yeah!" replied Shanks. "I told him that we both wanted to move up here, and I used our names. Then he said 'Buggy? I remember him. Wasn't he the kid with the huge, strange nose?'"
Several veins popped into existence on Buggy's forehead, and he started shaking with rage. Shanks pulled the edge of his hat down over his ears, in preparation for…
"WHAT? HOW DARE HE SAY SUCH A THING! I'LL RIP HIM TO PIECES!"
With a war cry, Buggy charged into the crowd, startling several and knocking several others out of the way. Shanks dashed after the enraged clown, tears of laughter streaming down his face.
For a minute or so, Buggy blazed a trail through the crowd blindly, Shanks following in his wake. Finally, his anger subsiding due to his dash, Buggy halted to catch his breath, now nearly in the front of the crowd, with Shanks stopping beside him The execution platform was now clearly visible above them. The red-haired boy smiled. This was closer than he had expected.
"Where…Where is he?" Buggy panted, putting his hands on his knees.
Shanks could no longer contain himself. He burst out laughing, clutching his sides.
"What's so funny?" snorted Buggy, looking his friend over. Shanks was practically rolling on the ground.
When he could catch his breath to speak, Shanks gasped out "It's…a lie! I made it up so you would get angry and clear a path! You're so predictable!"
Shanks continued to laugh away, unaware that something had drawn the crowd's attention up on the platform. Buggy grabbed Shanks by his shirt collar. "You moron! What a dirty trick!" he snarled.
"Therefore, you are to be executed by beheading this day, and may God have mercy on your soul!"
"Hey Buggy!" Shanks cried, ignoring his partner's grip on him. He pointed toward the platform, where the Marine was now folding up the scroll. Buggy let go and watched as well. Both of them could now see the whole display.
In the center of the platform, held down by a stockade and flanked by two sword-wielding Marines, was Gold Roger himself. His untidy black hair hung in clumps over his eyes, and his mustache was bushy and unkempt. He wore a faded red greatcoat, the kind that would be worn by the captain of a merchant vessel, and his face was shadowed by the fading light. He indeed looked like a man who was going to meet his fate.
As Buggy and Shanks stared in awe, the Marine who had read the scroll said "As is custom, you get one last request. Do so now."
There was a brief silence, in which the onlookers held their breath. And then…
"I'm about to leave this world," the Pirate King said. His voice was deep and imposing, with a bit of an accent that suited an experienced seaman. "This is a regrettable fate, but one I must accept, for it was bound to happen sooner or later. I shall leave behind my title, and all my worldly possessions, for you to find!"
A collective gasp of shock went through the whole crowd, Shanks and Buggy among them. Gold Roger went on. "Do you want my treasure? It's up for grabs now! I've left all my wealth in "One Piece". To find it, you'll have to search the entire world!"
Suddenly, the condemned man's face, which had been expressionless for the whole time prior, split into and unnaturally wide grin that both thrilled and scared Shanks. The moment was burned into his memory, and he was filled with wonder at the sight of the Pirate King, who smiled at his own execution.
The flanking Marines stepped back, than raised their weapons into the air over Gold Roger's head. As they did so, the man began to laugh. A deep, hearty laugh that echoed across the square. At first, the crowd wondered if the Pirate King had lost his mind. But the laugh wasn't the laugh of a madman. It was genuine and real.
The scroll-reading Marine gave a hand signal, and the raised swords descended…
Thunk!
The audience burst into wild cheers, loud enough to be heard across the entire island. Several enthusiastic men leapt high into the air, pumping their fists in a salute. The cacophony was lost, however, on the two young men that stared awestruck at the execution platform. For Shanks, images of adventure and freedom on the high seas danced through his mind. For Buggy, mountains of gold and jewels appeared in his thoughts.
"I want to be a pirate," both of them said in unison.
---
So it was settled. Shanks and Buggy became apprentice pirates aboard a ship soon afterward, leaving Rogue Town behind for a life at sea. Both of them would remember that day as one that had changed their lives, even after they parted ways due to their differences in ambition (and an accident on Buggy's part involving a Devil Fruit). Shanks, in particular, would always remember the Pirate King's smile, and how it had driven him, along with so many others, to the ocean. He would remember that smile many years later when, as captain of his own pirate crew, he gave his treasured straw hat to an aspiring village boy named Monkey D. Luffy.
But that, of course, is another story…
The End
Hi, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the story! Yes yes...I know I should be working on my other fics, but I like to take the time to write a short story or two when I'm inspired to do so. This is one such case, mostly spawned out of my hatred for 4Kids and my love of One Piece, both the manga and the original anime.
I don't own One Piece. Oda-sensei does. SO THERE, 4SHAME! You will never have the spirit!
Anyways, reveiws are appreciated! So don't hesitate to give 'em!
-Booster