Disclaimer: One Piece does not belong to me.

Rouge knew she should have taken the child and ran. Hid him in a place where no one could find him, raised him in secret, taught him how to survive in such a cruel world as this one. She should have put up the hood of her coat to shield her face and just grabbed him, before any of the other bystanders could alert the authorities.

He bobbled around in happy oblivion, tottering on short legs to gawk at the things around him: a shiny coin on the ground, a flower on the corner of a street vendor's desk, the faces of the people staring at him. When his gaze passed over Rouge, she couldn't help but take in a quick breath at his large, wide eyes and the way that his mouth curled into an impossibly big grin, stretching the little scar beneath his left eye.

He was happy. He was adorable.

Every single person knew he didn't belong, except for himself.

Rouge didn't know what kept her standing still instead of pushing through the crowd and whisking the kid away, because she knew what was coming. She'd seen it, they'd all seen it, too many times. Such a simple occurrence, so small and brief, many people thought nothing of it. But deep in their hearts, everyone knew what it was.

A death sentence.

And just as she was making up her mind, steeling her resolve, Rouge found herself being shoved out of the way, a loud voice shouting in her ear "Make way, make way!" and she knew she was too late. She would regret those seconds of hesitation for many years to come.

The authorities emerged from the masses, encircling the little boy that still unknowingly stumbled around the pavement. His smile faltered a little when he realized he was suddenly surrounded, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he stared up at the stern faces that glared down at him.

One of the authorities stepped forward, clearing his throat and speaking as though the child actually understood what he was saying. "By the order of His Majesty, under Act 21, all unidentified children are to be taken into custody and tested." His speech was perfect in the way of someone that had given it many times. He nodded to another authority, who moved towards the boy, scooping him into his arms. The child squirmed and cried out, but his captor held tight.

There were more yells of "Make way!" as the authorities paraded away, child in hand. The bystanders watched them leave, then quickly returned to their business, although the mood was a bit more somber than before.

Rouge remained in the middle of the street, her head bowed, her heart brimming with guilt.

She just couldn't protect anyone, could she?

It was only a day later that Rouge was called to the grand castle that stood above the kingdom, housing only the greatest of the greats. From the large double doored entrance, she was led to a room that she had been in far too many times: the throne room. The King himself sat on his overlarge behind on his even more overlarge throne, surveying her as she stepped in with pig-like eyes. He snorted a drip of snot back up his nose, his mouth twisting into a greasy smile. Rouge resisted the urge to grimace in disgust, setting her mouth in a thin, polite line and kneeling respectfully.

"You may rise," he said in a nasally voice that had never quite escaped puberty. When she looked up, he smirked superiorly, and once again she had to suppress a shudder.

She knew that the only reason that she was still alive was because this man, their King, found her quite beautiful. So beautiful that it was not an uncommon occurrence for her to step out of her front door to find a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doorstep. He no doubt wished to charm her into marrying him at some point, despite all of her alleged crimes. As she rose back to her feet, she couldn't help but think – not for the first time - how she'd kill herself long before submitting to marriage with him.

His advisor stepped forward from where he had stood next to the King. The man, known as Sir Crocodile, was hardly as ugly or dumb as his employer – his eyes glinted with intelligence, his shoulder length hair combed back, and his body was decorated with a majestic animal skin coat that hung off his broad shoulders. On one hand, rings embedded with glittering jewels encircled his fingers, while the other hand was completely missing, replaced by a large, golden hook. Despite his better looks, though, Rouge didn't like him any more than the King.

"Portgas D. Rouge," he began formally, nodding at her. "I hope you've been doing well."

She inclined her head a bit. "Thank you, Sir Crocodile. I have been quite fine."

He smiled. "Good." He raised his hand in some sort of signal, and two of the guards that were stationed in the room disappeared out the door. "I'm sure you're wondering why you were summoned here."

"I am rather curious," she agreed carefully. She wondered if she wanted to know why she was brought here.

"Well, the King was just considering how bored you must be, after the unfortunate circumstances of your son's birth. You haven't been seeing any of the Coliseum matches or participating in any of the local activities. What a dull six years it must have been for you." He gave her a sympathetic look, and Rouge could only think scornfully of how the King wouldn't speak for himself.

"And then yesterday, such a wonderful opportunity came up. You've been so lonely for the past years, so…"

As if on cue, the doors to the room swung inward, revealing the guards that had left previously. In the arms of one of the burly men was a small boy, who looked to be fast asleep. No, not just any boy – it was the boy, the child from the day before. His ebony bangs brushed the lids of his closed eyes, and small snores issued from his open mouth.

"We encountered this unidentified child on the streets, and the King graciously thought that perhaps you would like to care for him," Crocodile explained. The King grinned at her from his throne, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

She almost wanted to refuse. The King probably thought he was earning her favor, giving her a little doll to entertain her for a few years. He wanted her to kiss the ground at his feet in gratitude for his gift. Rage welled inside her, for the way he used this poor child to bribe her into liking him.

But saying no to his request would no doubt be an insult the King wouldn't tolerate, and as much as she didn't fear execution, she still had things she wished to accomplish in her time among the living.

And then the guard carrying the boy set him down. The movement woke the child, and he blinked his dark eyes groggily, swaying blearily as he was released on the floor to stand on his own.

He was adorable.

Rouge fell for him instantly.

Crocodile noted the softening in her face with satisfaction. He sighed theatrically, shrugging his shoulders and making his coat shift around him with a furry ruffling sound. "Unfortunately, though, he is still an unidentified child, and scanned negatively. Which means that under the law, unless he gains the required status by the age of fourteen, he will have to be purged." He gave her a sympathetic look.

She stiffened. She knew – everyone knew – that in this kingdom, purging was just a rather harsh euphemism for execution. This boy couldn't be older than four, and he was slated for death.

"Please understand. It wouldn't be fair for us to make an exception for just for him, so unless he can contribute to society enough to achieve the required status, I'm afraid we must purge him," Crocodile explained, his eyebrows drawn together in sorrow, as though she didn't already know that.

Her gut was telling her that she shouldn't take the child. She should just leave him to his fate. If he was born to die, then she wanted nothing to do with it. It would only cause her pain. And maybe if she cried and confessed that she just couldn't stand losing another child, the King would take pity on her and not end up killing her.

But another glance at the boy's still sleepy face, staring confusedly across the room at her, his lips formed a tired, dopey smile, sealed her heart. There was no way she'd leave him to just any foster parent that the King's men would dump him on.

"I'll take care of him," she promised.

Crocodile smiled at her. "Very good!" He turned King, who had remained silent through the whole conversation. "Your ideas are always so wonderful, your highness."

The King smirked smugly. Rouge highly doubted that this had been his idea at all. "I told you this would please her," he said in his disgusting voice.

Rouge ignored their exchange, instead walking to kneel in front of the child. He did not move when she approached, and looked up at her face with a curious expression as it neared his. She touched the soft skin of his cheek, caressing it in an already motherly way, and he flinched, but more from surprise than fear. "What's your name?" she murmured to him, giving him a comforting smile.

He just blinked at her, uncomprehending.

"There are a few papers that you will have to sign," Crocodile said from behind her, "but we can send you those later."

She nodded absently, her eyes still fixed on the boy.

"I suggest you visit the castle doctor," he continued. "She looked the child over when he arrived, and can inform you of any conditions you should be aware of."

Rouge didn't really have any interest in seeing some high and mighty palace doctor, but despite what Crocodile had said, the "suggestion" was no doubt more of a command. She looked back at him and nodded. "Thank you."

"The guards can escort you to her office," he said, motioning to the aforementioned people.

"Have a wonderful day, Rouge," the King told her graciously, then snorted another drip of snot up his large nose.

Rather than gagging at the way his lips formed her name, Rouge managed to keep a straight face as she rose to her feet and bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Your Highness. You are truly magnificent." Magnificent wasn't really in context, she realized, but the King was really too dumb to tell.

Beside her, the boy stared at her position, then copied the bow, wobbling comically.

"You're dismissed," the King announced, satisfied with the compliment.

Rouge straightened, then stooped to take the child's small hand. He cocked his head to the side, but allowed himself to be towed along as she followed the guards from the throne room.

The doctor observed Rouge and the boy sitting in chair against her wall with what looked like boredom in her dark eyes. Her tall face and triangular nose made her look rather witch-like, and really overall, her appearance was not what Rouge would have expected of a professional doctor working at the castle. Her long, wavy white hair was pulled away from her face by two pairs of color sunglasses, one on top of the other, and she wore a crop top that rebelliously displayed her belly button piercing. Over the shirt she wore a purple biker's jacket, and below her exposed stomach, matching purple jeans.

After a few more seconds of staring them down, she turned to the papers on her desk. "I don't know his exact age," she said, in a voice that had not lost any of its strength, despite the fact that she was obviously several decades older than Rouge, "but he seems to be about three years old, and that's what I'm putting down. Don't know his birthday either, so you'll get to choose unless he speaks up about it. That's be in the paperwork they're going to be sending you." She grabbed a bottle of what looked like something alcoholic off her desk, tossing her head back and taking a deep swig. Rouge was seriously starting to doubt her professionalism.

"He's in pretty good shape," the doctor continued, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her jacket and setting the bottle down with a clunk, fixing the boy with a stern stare. "Hasn't eaten for a while, but I'd only say a day and a half at most. He's on the small side – maybe a premature birth, but he isn't demonstrating any serious side effects."

"Well, that's good, Doctor…" Rouge shifted her gaze to the medical certificates on the wall. "…Kureha?"

Docter Kureha waved a hand. "Just call me Kureha, the full title is a mouthful."

"Kureha," Rouge confirmed. "But what's this?" She gestured to the long white bandage wound around the small boy's left forearm, which she had noticed on the way there.

"Oh, that." Kureha shrugged indifferently. "Just don't let him mess with it too much. Change the bandages every night until it heals up properly."

"Yes, but what is it?"

"Well, he's a Noid, isn't he?" Kureha rolled her eyes, as though it was obvious.

Rouge's expression turned bemused. "A Noid?"

"Not caught up on the local slang, I suppose." Kureha shook her head, taking another quick gulp from her drink. "Under that bandage is his brand."

"His…" Rouge's face turned black with horror, then twisted with rage. "You branded him?!"

The doctor sneered at her. "Hold your horses, girly. I didn't do anything but wrap it up afterwards. The brat was already asleep by that time."

That wasn't enough to placate Rouge. "If you knew it was coming, you should have done something! Not just let them burn a mark into the skin of a child…" She petered off, stunned by the atrocities her government could commit.

Kureha's gaze suddenly turned cold, and Rouge unconsciously shifted back into the seat she didn't realize she abandoned, retreating from the glare. The boy beside her also seemed disturbed by the sudden hostility between the two women, glancing back and forth between them.

"I might work in the castle, but that doesn't mean I'm a fan of the way things work around here." The doctor dumped the rest of her drink into her mouth, swallowing noisily, and chucked the bottle across the room. The glass shattered against the wall, every shard falling into a garbage can below with perfect precision. Rouge and the child flinched at the sound. "I'm obviously not a very conventional doctor," she pointed out. "But I'm the best out there; that's why they keep me up here. I'm also rather well known for not bending very well to superiority." She wrinkled her nose. "So they have to make sure I know exactly what happens when I do what I'm not supposed to."

The doctor had turned her glare to the floor, one of her hands strangling a pen from her desk as though she wished her grip was around someone's neck. "I originally didn't think I'd let something like this go by. They couldn't afford to kill me off, and I didn't have any close family or friends, so what did I have to lose?" She laughed bitterly. "Oh, they had their ways. They'll put up with my unorthodox methods-" she grabbed another bottle, one of many that Rouge noticed lined up at the edge of her desk "-but they're not going to let me get away with anything else." The crooked smile on her face grew. "Oh, I'm sure they can't wait to find someone as good as me. So I can finally die…"

Kureha pointed a finger at the boy's arm. "Anyway, that's not a real brand. They only want to let people know he's marked for death, not spark some kind of rebellion. It's a tattoo. Quite painful, I suppose, and especially for the unprepared, but it's like a brush from a soft blanket compared to having the design burned into your skin."

Rouge pressed her lips together. She still didn't like it, but a tattoo wasn't as bad as a real brand, and Kureha had spoken passionately and honestly. There was nothing she could have done, not without terrible consequences. She made to stand up. "Is that it?"

"You'll have to bring him back to me in about a month." Kureha chuckled at the confused look on Rouge's face. "Well, I suppose you don't have to. But just because the brat is looking okay right now doesn't mean he's not going to develop anything later."

"I suppose," Rouge admitted reluctantly. It wasn't like she was looking forward to another visit, but Kureha had a point. She took the child's hand and guided him to slide off the chair onto the floor.

"Also, I'm not sure if he can understand you." Rouge blinked at Kureha, who shrugged and explained. "He hasn't shown any signs of being able to comprehend speech. Unusual at this age, but then, we don't know what his upbringing was like. That just means you'll have to teach him to talk. Or…" She twirled a hand in the air. "Maybe he already can and has just refrained from displaying his ability."

Rouge pursed her lips and nodded. "Thanks for the heads up. And for all your help," she added.

"Just doing my job. Now, get out of here." Kureha shooed Rouge and her new child from the room while casually opening another bottle of alcohol.

Rouge wasn't quite sure what to do with the boy when she arrived at home. She still had toys and things from her pregnancy a few years ago, stored away somewhere - she could give those to him to entertain himself, although they were intended for younger children than himself, so she wasn't sure how much fun they'd be for him. She would let him sleep in her bed with her until she could get him a bed of his own. Money wouldn't be a problem – the King didn't want the woman he was besotted with to live in poverty, despite her unemployment.

What she was bothered by, as she stepped through the front door of her small, cozy cottage, was "the boy" trailing behind her. Or, "the child". Those titles were the only two things she could call him in her mind. She had been pondering the dilemma all the way back from the castle. The boy most likely had some sort of name he responded to at this point in his life, and she'd hate to rename him. That just didn't seem right to her. But if he couldn't understand what she was saying, there was no way of knowing.

She led him into her kitchen, then knelt in front of him, as she had done back at the castle. He gave her a big smile, like the one he had sported when she had first seen him wandering the streets. She doubted he knew exactly what was going on, but he seemed to like whatever facts he could comprehend. She returned the expression reassuringly, and enunciating clearly, said again, "What's your name?"

He blinked at her, then let out a giggle and poked her nose. Heart sinking, Rouge saw that she probably wasn't going to be able to get a name out of him after all. But she didn't let her disappointment show, fondly ruffling his hair and getting to her feet. When she turned her back to him, her thoughts turning to what she could heat up for dinner, she froze in surprise as a small voice came from the ground behind her.

"Nam?"

She looked back at the boy, who stared up at her with a curious expression. "Nam?" he repeated.

Rouge's eyes widened, and she fell to her knees again. "Yes. Name. Your name."

"Nam." The boy blinked once, then beamed at her. "Luffy!"

"Luffy?" It wasn't a particularly common name, but it suited him well. Rouge returned his grin, relieved. "Well, Luffy, how about I make some food for us?"

Luffy's eyes sparkled at the word, and he let out a bubble of laughter. "Fooood!"

The tall flames licked at the air, the smoke that rose off of them giving the night sky a grayish tint. The bright orange reflected in the man's eyes as he watched the fire devour the smoldering remains of a house, roof already caved, walls crumbling inwards. His face was stoic as he slowly turned away, looking at his men behind him.

The subordinates were huddled close together. Most were staring at the man in front of the fire with apprehension, some of the more emotional ones with tears running down their faces. The light of the fire cast long, flickering shadows behind them and turning the dirt around them a shade of red.

The man turned to them, and at least half of them flinched. One managed to squeak out, "Boss…?" But he was ignored, and the man walked past them with a jerk of his head, not showing any emotion.

"Let's go," he grunted. "There's nothing for us here."

"Get in there," the guard snarled, shoving the fourteen year old past the door. She gave a squeak of fear, trying to retreat, but he had already shut the door behind her, plunging the room into darkness. The girl banged her fists against the thick steel between her and freedom, crying out for help, but nothing came from the other side.

Eventually, her voice went hoarse and her hands purpled with bruises. As the fight drained out of her, she slid against the door, curling on the floor and shivering, not bothering to hold back her tears. The pitch black around her seemed to press in on her, and she covered her ears with her hands to block out the constricting silence.

After a few minutes, her shuddering sobs died down, and she pushed herself onto her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her, threatening to send her sprawling back onto the cold ground, but she set her jaw and hastily scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, remaining upright resolutely. As soon as she'd regained enough control over her limbs, she stumbled her way farther into the room, arms outstretched to keep her from running into anything in the darkness.

She was just starting to comprehend how huge the room was when a sound from behind her made her freeze. It was a scraping noise, like something being drawn across the floor, or maybe multiple things, punctuated by the occasional little click. The girl turned around, her eyes wide and searching.

When she fully faced the direction of the sound, it stopped, only to be replaced by a growling sigh. A puff of warm air blew over the girl's terrified face, ruffling her bangs. And then lights appeared in the darkness. Two little orange lights, each with a black slit down the middle.

Monster eyes.

The girl screamed.

Alright! This could be interesting.

I've been working on this thing for a while, and I have a couple chapters written, so maybe I'll be able to get somewhere with this story! Although I'm not going to sit here and be too optimistic, because who knows what could happen, hm?

This chapter is just kinda laying down some background and stuff. It probably doesn't make much sense at this point - or maybe it does, I don't know - but I hope it was at least a little enjoyable, if not enough to make you want to follow it? :3

I don't plan on including any non-canon pairings in here, although there will be plenty of familial and friendship love.

Feel free to review or PM me about anything at all! I'd love to hear criticism to make my writing better, conjectures to let me know what you're thinking about, and compliments to make me giggle and blush and feel all flattered and embarrassed. Or, I mean, you could just tell me about how your day has gone, how much you love One Piece, etcetera!

Until next time!

~Whisperwing~