It starts with a nightmare.

Things like this always starts in one, don't they?

It starts with a nightmare, and it culminates into a vision.

It's dark, deep and seething— it laughs at the world with vices cut into it's tongue, and taunts death for no rhyme and reason if only for entertainment and mass corruption of roads meant to lead people into the awaiting arms of finality. Finality in more ways than one.

Tokoyami had seen a lot of things in these waters. Things that were unfathomably big and fearsome it won't stand a second chance against his own ocean that it wasn't even comparable. The oceans here were depthless hellscapes that was a deep wound ingrained within the confines of the earth, pretty much a too-deep wound that will never heal.

He'd seen the Sea Kings that lurk under, and ships that he isn't always sure if it's even there or not because he's heard a lot of stories about vessels that never really rotted in the depths of the ocean and just kept coming back for whatever reason. There's a lot of jumbled voices in the waters and the tides that always come and go and he's not sure if they're actually hallucinations or not or if they were actually alive.

The sea is a cruel and doting mother to those born for the brines and the shallows, but sometimes she wants her children back in her cold embrace regardless.

And maybe that was why she was so cruel to him, since he'd never been her child in the first place.

He understood (maybe a little too well) although he never wanted to be in her waters in the first place. Let alone even wake up from any of this world's land by itself.

But he learned to accept after all the years of trying and bleeding for what he deemed as a step closer to the answer to his questions, and even if accepting is a hard thing to do after all his hardships he isn't that dense to just keep denying his existence here. Even if he loathed it more than he loved it.

That was how he knew what he had become. And why he was here in this birth-place. In this world's land. In this world's living breathing space.

And again, it starts with a nightmare. It's an ugly thing that coiled him stiffly and numbly so much that the air around him breaks likes glass and there's the scent of devastation in the air.

He stood in the bowsprit of the Dark Shadow, overlooking the horizon and the wild tides underneath him that rocked the ship as if it were singing a terrible lullaby meant for the chaos he stood upon.

The weather is somber as the sun hid away in the clouds and strangely enough he doesn't hear the usual noise his men makes as they go about their day— like the continuous thumps of a hundred boots and the business that followed it with a vice or the many voices singing along sea shanties and tales about memories.

It was the usual calmness he hoped for when things get too much and the winds become loud and fretful, it was the quiet he longed for whenever he hears the sound of metal and seastone— filling him with their unforgivable curses and sin, too familiar for comfort.

But now, the quietness and calmness only felt wrong.

The Adam wood feels...old (old in a way that's it's rickety and rotting, it feels like it's been sucked out of every memory the vessel held) and the space of the Dark Shadow didn't exactly feel right. Behind him the sails are tattered and burned. The two ships that followed were gone.

He finds himself in place in a state of detrimental chaos and there hangs a feeling of dreadful loss. He had experienced a lot of things, seen and been present in accidents and incidents he just can't forget no matter how much liquor stains his mind. It's still there, ever present and stubborn.

Tokoyami lets out a shaky breath, sharp nails digging into the rotten wood of his beloved ship, and feels as if bile would rise from his throat and suddenly throw him into a panic attack. Beads of sweat started to form, cold and unforgiving as the voices that whisper to him every night, and suddenly he catches sight of something in the waters.

It looked... familiar, too familiar— a vision of a million fleeting memories overcome him like a tidal wave, of fights and spars and explosion. Sudden viscous shouts and determined grins, a million fading memories to count, and a thousans more that will go with it.

It was a body— and oh god it was a body and there were dozens more that floated around the dead waters and Tokoyami jumps—

The tides swallow him up right away, but he fought it to stay afloat even as the brines were determined to drag him down to the depths with the other lost souls in there. They cry and wail as if they were being burned to death, and that just made it worse.

He swims and swims and swims like his very life depended on it but he never seemed to get closer to the bodies in the water; green and blond and white hair and a bunch of others things and people he recognizes even from miles away and he just can't get closer and—

And he was suddenly dragged down, too fast and too sudden every oxygen left in his lungs leaves him like a storm waiting to happen, his ribs give in from themselves and it hurts as the seawater makes their way into their system.

And just like that, as fleeting as the blades of wind that scars him and as hurtful as the day realization came over him, he wakes up.

Tokoyami gasped.

He sits up and his hand automatically clutches his chest tightly, nevermind his too-sharp nails digging into his skin and the burning feeling inside him.

His heart was beating too fast as if he's running away from one of the admirals all over again, and he tries hard not to scream from the pain of his body trying to function and adapt so he wouldn't fucking—

He stays like that for a while, maybe too long, when he caught sight of the sun shining through what space the heavy curtains left to flow from, but he doesn't care, at this point, and he forced himself to sleep.

He's having too many nightmares, again and again every night feels like a damn trap for his mind to plunge him into the black waters of his own self.

(He doesn't forget a lot of things, as cruel as they are, and it took him a long time to be stable enough to talk like he wasn't about cry, or fight again knowing he'd win.

It takes him months, and it doesn't really stop until he'd grown quite numb to the corpses he sees in his dreams.)

•••

Tokoyami was pissed.

Pissed because of the rude awakening of a dozen canon balls making holes in his ship, and frustrated of the ship full of panicking men running around in his deck.

It was chaos, basically, and he'd rather go back to sleep than deal with whatever's happening outside— but then what kind of captain that would make him? A neglecting and uncaring one, that's for sure. But even then he'd still like to sleep in the chaos until it subsides into a manageable task that wouldn't give him a migraine.

So he wakes up angrily and growls and bares his teeth, sharp and all for all those times he'd snapped and spread blood all over the floor, as his eyes narrows into slits.

Fumikage Tokoyami was a patient and understanding man, but there's some serious anger issues trapped within that body if he ever got peeved enough after all these decades. He's delt with a lot of people that wouldn't leave him and his crew alone until they're done for, at least that's the logic that goes for pirates. He would've made truce with them or whatever, but that's virtually undoable.

People who did piss him off and got their ass handed back to them knew enough not to do that again, at least.

(It kind of reminded him of a certain blond Pomeranian sometimes, holy shit.)

He sauntered outside and into the warm rays of the sun, ignoring how the wind made him too hot even though it was still morning, and he's faced with a swordsman wannabe.

The guy really didn't look much aside from that ridiculous color scheme of his, all neons and bright colors he looks like a misplaced bar sign, so Tokoyami didn't really bother trying to remember his face.

A small fish in an even bigger sea, and he could just swallow him right up like one of the damn whales he'd seen back in the New World did to a random enemy fleet once. He's gotten that strong in the last 10 years or so so why not?

The wood under him creaks and the winds burns his skin— he hates these kind of things, binding and chaining him to a corner he'd sooner flee from than stay any longer.

(His feathers bristle, hardening, and sometimes he forgets that his own mind can be a threat to who must know about the world in it's wake. The sea laughs at him, cackling as the ancient god sent waves to carry off the bodies he's mangled overtime like a hungry beast.)

It was a quick and easy thing to do, and he scowls in disgust as he picked dried blood wedged into his growing nails.

Things like this happens (always and always, no matter how much he tries to avoid bloodshed and his morals continue to be ground into the dust by sheer happenstance that he didn't even want to get thrown in)— the waves under the Dark Shadow wails and sing to him like a bunch of lost souls, and he throws out the mangled corpse of his enemy to feed them.

To his brothers and sisters, once that he's sure won't be seeing even if he'd wait here a near century, he sends out his thoughts and wishes, the shadows fluttering down at him like flowers and the dead men lying at his feet.

He's not above playing the predator and tearing off heads and limbs. Even then, his brothers and sisters still fight back; it doesn't matter that he would be seen as savage and cruel if this were in his actual world.

Or maybe it did? After all if you compare pirates to villains, there's always tons of layers to go through in order to for the punishment a little more... acceptable.

It depends on the perspective and opinions of the people, mostly.

And he will do whatever it takes to keep the shadows at bay, even if he has to make sacrifices like this.

Tokoyami had grown in more ways than one in over the years already, what's another bad man getting in his way? He wouldn't have killed him if the guy himself didn't slash his men's backs.

He was getting more and more antsy as the years go by, and he doesn't really know when the pain behind his ribs stops.

His morals were slipping, slowly and slowly, but sometimes he just has to do what's needed to be done to survive. He wasn't a hero here, not anymore, just some pirate who tries to survive even if Fate itself seemed to hate him.

•••

Afternoon comes like a sudden breeze, and quick enough to let him know he didn't eat anything until his stomach starts grumbling.

He looks around the deck— it was still messy from the ordeal this morning (and his mind resupplies him about the neon colored swordsman and think— what the hell, who comes into a Warlord's ship and starts attacking suddenly?) and groans inwardly at all the mess it caused that'd properly take all afternoon to tidy up.

He hated the mess, but that's fine. The wounds on the back of his crewmates were much more important to heal, and they aren't like him in ways that their wounds would heal in only a couple of days.

But other than that, he suddenly had a feeling of uneasiness wash over him as soon as he'd sat down to overlook repairs— as if something would come up from the shores and tell him something he didn't want to hear. It's a vivid thought, but he wouldn't be surprised after so many things he'd seen over the years.

"Hopefully it wouldn't be an actual problem I'd have to fix up again. " he mumbles under his breath, ignoring the whispers from the winds in the sails or how the waters seemed more harsh than usual, "I have too many things on my plate as it is."

So he sighs and leans onto the giant mast of his ship, wary and doubtful. Ignoring for all eternity how his exhaustion grows every day no matter how much he rests.

"I'm fine. " Usopp groans, sitting on a crater on the Big Top's deck as the man in front of him continues to check his face for the hundredth time that afternoon. Although he can still taste metal on his tongue and his eyes hurt like all hell, but everything else was fine (if you didn't count the injured men and the hole in the other side of the ship, that is.)

"No you are NOT and because of those wannabe pirate furries decided to play coy with us I'M gonna have to be the one suffering the consequences. " Buggy spat, but it wasn't really directed at the teen in front of him though.

It was more directed at the ones who attacked them this morning, that is, who called themselves the Black Cat Pirates or whatever. Buggy had gotten strong after two years, but the only ones who proved themselves a nuisance and a threat were those two who was named the Nyanban brothers— slicing Usopp's left eye deep enough with their sword-as-cat-claws that will probably scar (and permanently, that fucking twink) but fortunately not enough to completely destroy his vision there.

He doesn't know how the eye exactly works, but he's kind of pretty sure it would be sort of blurry on that side from then on.

"Shit— if that bird's found out what happened he's gonna skin me alive! " he cursed as he flailed his arms in distress, letting the younger boy go from his grip.

"Jeez, calm down! At least it wasn't that bad! " the long nose tried to calm his captain if only to stop himself from thinking of so many ways a certain warlord would torture him. "It's not like it's you're fault anyway, they were the ones who did it first! " he frowns, "Besides, it's not like Mr. Yami is actually gonna have your hide, will he? "

"Actually, he would maybe just punch him?" said Mohji from behind him, making the kid startle from his seat, "Or kick him in the nut— " "THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" "—...I doubt that he would only just toss you out into the sea again. "

"But you're basically like his own spawn at this point, " the clown spitters and raised his arms into the air after glaring at Mohji, "Didn't you see what he did last time? He's a warlord, damnit! Even Shanks respects his power! A Yonko respects his power! "

"I think talking about him like that is a bit overkill. " Cabaji said next from his spot and leaned into the mast, looking at his anxiety ridden captain, "And doesn't Redhair Shanks respects anyone who's powerful enough? Painting the warlord that way is kind of strange, doesn't it?Tokoyami is a tolerant and understanding person, isn't he? " he tilts his head in thought, "I'm sure he would understand what happened; and it's not like we let Usopp get hurt on purpose, anyway. "

At that, Buggy seemed to be a little bit more calmer if only just a little bit but there's still a ton of doubt visible on his face. He looks at Usopp again, and flinched inwardly at the surely ugly wound covered behind those bandages that would leave behind a nasty scar when it's removed.

He was worried about a lot of things, most importantly of Usopp's eye (the kid was a sniper, for old sake's sake, there's a million and one reasons why that's just so wrong in so many ways) and secondly of the possible wrath to come down on him from the most brooding person he's ever seen aside from Hawk-eye, as well as the damages that the Big Top obtained from the skirmish today.

The guy scares him (for obvious reasons) but he's the reason why he's stronger nowadays, too, but there's still a lot of perks of working under a warlord that's for sure.

The guy was good friends with Shanks, as it always seemed ever since Tokoyami explained why he threw him overboard that one time (and showed his vivre card to prove it), and although it isn't an alliance with the Yonko himself their crew seemed to be doing good with each other from the other man's descriptions in terms of their Captains being friends. As well as Shanks own opinion from the occasional Den den contacts.

Another thing was that the said sniper kid he was fussing about was almost like a relative to him at this point. Why else has he given him that musket two years back and provided him with lots of support? Buggy doesn't exactly know the full story behind it but it definitely had something to do with the kid's old man. Since he kind of knows Usopp's past and Yasopp of the Red Hair crew was his damn father, as he'd found out from Shanks a while ago.

From that point did Buggy really did want to strangle the older sniper, because his reason for leaving and never contacting his family again was totally bullshit, really.

Buggy was at least a little happy about being apart from Tokoyami's fleet, patrolling around East Blue and sometimes entering the Grand Line if they felt brave enough, since it also provided a good bonus of notoriety and facilitation that helped his own crew grow in more ways than one.

But Hades (Tokoyami) was also kinda boring sometimes, since he was strict enough to order them not to pillage villages and rusty towns because they have enough money to go around and that just made it stale for a while.

The guy was rich enough to do what most pirate crews (Shichibukai or not) wouldn't do, but he's got a trading company with his name on it that helps the flow of belli in their money bags quite well.

And although Buggy didn't want to outright say it aloud, the guy helped him a lot since the clown made a name for himself from being a no-name pirate from the backwaters of East Blue into a considerable threat for the Marines for being one of the Warlord's co-leader of another fleet in his hold.

Buggy the Clown always liked to lay low, even now, but honestly this kind of power made him want to do more daring— flashy things he wouldn't have been able to do with the Navy breathing down his neck and threatening to blow up his crew every time he decides to do a stunt.

It's fun, even without the raiding and pillaging certain towns, since there's always an advantage of having to work with a person who the marines call the Black devil and there's always a fight to be had within the surface of Paradise.

But that's besides the point, now, since he has a problem in his hands and Usopp's eye wouldn't heal itself in a span of a few days until word gets around that Buggy let the warlord's sniper get hurt.

(Technically Usopp was Buggy's sniper, since he got to him first, but anyone sailing under the Raven-head's Jolly Roger practically belongs to him unless they leave with careful permission and a reasonable reason as to why. In which Buggy belongs to him, too, at this point, even though he didn't like talking about it.But at least he's got enough power and certain advantages within the other crews for being the third in command of the Raven's Lock Grand Armada, aside from his right and left hand men.)

The clown sighs, rubbing his temples with his detached hands as he thought about how to get Usopp proper medical treatment for his eye so it wouldn't worsen if something ever goes wrong, in which case with their luck nowadays, wouldn't be far from the horizon.

He let his men do what they needed to do in order to clean up what chaos was left from the skirmish as he just paced around in thought.

They'd have to dock to repair some of the Big Top's damages, too, since they don't really have a proper shipwright in their hands and Usopp was the one who repairs most of the things around here when it's needed. In East Blue, there isn't really a good enough shipwright who is willing enough to go to the Grand Line, anyway, so they just never got one and they only dock at nearby islands where it's good enough.

As Buggy paced in circles worriedly, Usopp decided to speak up.

"Why not just let me go back to the Gecko Islands? I'm sure there's a doctor there that could get my eye looked at. " he offers as he shifted his wrapped up broken arm on his lap, "I need to rest, right? And you need to get the Big Top fixed anyway and I would just get in the way, so I think leaving me in Syrup Village is a good idea! " Usopp tells him, waiting for his response when Buggy considered the thought.

"Fine. " the clown groans and moves closer to the younger man as if that would help him affirm anything, "As long as you stay out of that girl's mansion while you're there 'cause I don't think climbing a tree with your broken arm is gonna help with anything. " he huffs, crossing his arms as the boy's hopeful expression just falters a little bit, but he waves it off.

"And also that Klaha-whatever guy, he creeps me out so you staying away from that mansion would be good enough reason so he wouldn't confront you or something. " Buggy frowns, remembering that time where the butler practically attacked him while he was still recovering in the long-nose's house two years back. Which left him a ton of grudges for the lanky guy even when he left.

In worries him even if he doesn't like to admit it (he doesn't like to admit a lot of things, but he makes sure to show he cares when it matters when things get too bad, and that was enough, really) even when Usopp was stronger and he still leaves the ship to go visit his hometown every few months, and stay there for a bit to catch up with things his own 'pirate crew' which consists of basically three children with weirdly specific names.

Usopp still talks about the sickly Kaya and the bastard butler, of his three kids that ever since he joined the Buggy Pirates idolized him even more, and the villagers he gives mini heart attacks to whenever the four of them scream that pirates were coming— throwing all kinds of things in their anger for the false alarm every day.

Buggy's gotten attached to him, and honestly that just makes sense for worrying for him so much. He's helped him with so much, hasn't he?

Which of course with this logic, and the downside being wrapped around the sniper's fingers easily even though Buggy only half realizes it.

So Usopp beams, happy enough with the compliance, and stands to go down on the galley to collect the necessary things he needs for his stay in Syrup village, which wouldn't be too long actually, maybe a few days or a week.

He's grown a lot, for so little time, he was still a coward of course, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be able to conquer some of his certain fears, too. Tokoyami had given him the musket he uses nowadays (he still uses his slingshot sometimes because of the different sizes of ammunition he carries) thought him a little about Haki, and with Buggy's assistance and teaching he was basically a little stronger than the average Grand Line pirate.

But he was still a kid, only 17 years old, and his aspirations apparently isn't all that complete even when he'd fought and shot down hundreds of pirates and naval officers alike for the two years he's been with them.

Which makes Buggy proud, actually, because he sees himself in the longnose, an epiphany from long ago that still wasn't quite complete, either. And probably wouldn't be for a long time, but that's okay.

There's a lot in the world waiting to be seen and discovered, a ton of opportunities are there beneath hardships and suffrage but with a fruition of victory sure to come when it's there. It's sweet, exhilarating, and Buggy sometimes wishes he would be there to taste it one day, too.

Things are far and in between most of the time, but that part had always been part of the way of how things go. The world was huge, the depths and the heights larger than everything present, though there are always dreams that will exceed farther than ever before.

So when the evening came and the sun was beginning to set, Usopp awaiting to see the shores of his hometown with his far-seeing eyes and Buggy's dwindling yet still-there worry— a spark was there. Awaiting for ignition and a bullet to strike the aim for new adventures.

And a raven was there, too, it's worn out and broken, but the fire is still there, waiting for something and looking for everything everywhere for a dream to be answered, not just achieved, so a home is found again.

They'd have to wait a little though, perhaps a few days later, until a crowned boy with the brightest smile the world's had ever seen would sail the roaring tides and whisk them away for their ambitions to take a step closer.

This is a story of dreams, after all, despite what all the morals and law would say.

Isn't it?