A.N/ Alright, sorry I've been gone so long! I just really got lost in my school work and it was all just too crazy to handle! But anyway, I'm back with a new chapter!

Enjoy! There is comedy speckled in this chapter!

"Ma'am, what about this? You don't look good with certain colors, but black will always go with your beautiful white skin and hair?"

Blackhorn. A small town on Drum island, right next to the ocean, is not the place where Doctors Kureha and Chopper are working at today. They are in the next town over, but they placed me here because this is the best place to figure out my next steps of this island.

Inside a clothing store, I was promptly greeted by the manager of it. He was a thin man with aging brown hair and dressed in many layers, despite being inside the warm second hand shop. I told him of my immediate need for new clothing, showed him the money and sparse things I could trade and he took me showed me through all the second hand items I could afford.

"Oh, I don't want a dress." I assured the manager, "I did something adaptable, easy to work with in any situation."

The manager feigned sadness and rubbed his chin worriedly, looking up and down my body, "It's a casual dress, I assure you. It'll go well with your petite body of yours."

I shook my head and sifted through a rack of clothing, "No, I need something simple and not pretty. I'm planning to go into some rough times soon enough. A pretty dress doesn't protect me much at all."

"Are you a pirate?"

The manager became defensive. This island I had been on wasn't fond of pirates, probably because of the pirate raids they've been receiving since their flippant King decided to become one himself and left. Times have been tough on the small towns on this island, and pirates complicates their situation too much more.

"No, sir," I said, trying to give him my most simplest answer, "You could say I'm just an adventurer who travels through lands that no dress could survive through."

The manager nodded, scratching his beard thoughtfully, "Hm, I understand." He put the dress back and started to look through another rack. "I think I've got just the outfit for you."

I looked up from the rack, "Really?"

"Yup," He replied cheerily, "I used to be an adventurer once, you know. The places I've been to may have been hard to reach, but the beauty of seeing it with my own two eyes are worth it all. I'd go out and do it over and over again if father time didn't have other plans for me."
I walked over to where he was shuffling and watched as he sorted through the clothes. His nimble fingers felt each type of fabric as he decided which clothes were right or wrong.

"One of the reasons I became a shop owner was because I knew the right clothes for the right situation," He continued, "Adventurers are all different, with different attitudes and survival instincts. And for you, I'll have to find thin, but sturdy. You have a nimble attitude about yourself, and your dagger on your belt there show the same thing. I also see a brace on your leg, so something will need to be done. It needs to stay on, correct? It's not some decoration?"

I nodded, "The brace is needed."

He muttered an incoherent word or two and continued to shuffle through the rack. After another minute he spoke once more.

"Alright, here is what I've got," He said, placing a piles of clothes in my arms. He then also added a pair of black boots and turned me turned a dressing room "Try these on for size."

I did what I was asked and changed quickly, tucking my old clothes into the corner and changing into the new.

The clothing was simple; a white, long sleeved shirt under a black leather jacket. I could wrap my dagger belt around my waist comfortably. Thin black pants made with stretchy, breathable fabric and went under my brace for my knee flawlessly. And then the black combat boots reached up to my mid-calf, which could allow me a good hiding spot to hide two of my six daggers.

I stepped out of the dressing room pleased.

"I take it you like what I've picked?" The manager mused on my smiling face.

"Yes, sir," I replied, "It's very uniform and basic, adaptable and casual. I'll be able to do much with these clothes."

"Another customer pleased with their service," The man nodded and then handed over another item. An new and expensive grey snow jacket.
"Oh no, I can't accept this," I wavered uneasily.

"Oh yes you can," He replied, "Even though it looks as if you skin is naturally white, I can still tell who is dreadfully cold when they walk into my shop."

Cold? Never once have I shivered since being here. I hadn't noticed frostbite of any sort, either. My body was well adapted to severely cold temperatures. But the manager's constant insistence drove me to the edge of impatience and I finally accepted.

"Good, girl."

A literal vein showed visibly on my forehead and strained a smile, "Yeah,"

Seriously, the coat was too expensive. I did not like even the thought of wasting fine material on items of limited use. It was such a waste. Why did the manager have to be so nice and oddly charitable? I didn't want to think long on his motives.

I finally left the shop after handing a few of my precious beli. It was time to search for more information to leave the island once and for all. So, pulling on the coat, I waved one last goodbye and stepped on into the cold outdoors.

I wandered around the small town then, looking through shop windows and asking townspeople for directions. Most of the townspeople avoided me, seeing as I was an unfamiliar face, and others probably couldn't differentiate me from the snowy background, thanks to this grey snow jacket.

It would've been practical for the manager to give a colorful jacket, so I could've been seen in case of snow emergencies. I've heard of things called avalanches. And I'd blend right into the snow.

I breathed a sigh and examined my coat. I would've gotten more snow clothing myself if I planned to stay longer, and stay uniform with this snowy society of people. Like gloves. But then I wouldn't have been able to have fast reflex for my daggers.

Sighing again, I unzipped the front of my coat just in case the need arises for combat.

"Oof," Somebody had walked into me from behind.

I turned, my hand ready at my belt, and saw an elderly lady wrapped up in layers of clothing on the ground. Her grocery bag laid to the side, its contents strewn out.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I rushed to apologize and kneeled down to help her up, "Please forgive me for not noticing you."

"It was my fault, dear," The lady said, brushing the snow off, "I'm growing too old to see properly these days."

She was a short old lady, only reaching up to my elbow, with stringy grey hair tied in a bun and wrinkles deep in her skin. I looked over to her dropped items.

"Here, let me get those for you," I bent down to gather them up for her as carefully as I could and handed them back over to her.
She thanked me and invited me to walk with her to her house. It would be nice to have someone with her if she fall again, for she feared she might not get up next time. So I started to walk beside the elderly lady. Just until she was safely home and in the care of her guardians.

"These are a lot of colorful strings you have there," I commented, curious of their use.

"You mean the yarn?" She chuckled, "Well, I don't suppose many of you young kids these days take up knitting."

"Knitting?"

"Knitting," The elderly lady answered in a pleased tone, "It's just a hobby these days, but back when I was your age we would wear our handmade pieces like clothing, because that's what they were."

"Oh, so yarn is an ingredient to clothing?" I examined my own clothes, "But what about the tinier strings that wrap together to make fabric for clothing?"

"That's machinery clothing," She replied gruffly, "Not as good as making it by hand with yarn."

"Really?" I looked at her think strings of yarn and contemplated their durability.

They looked strong, but how could a bunch of them be treaded together to make clothing? It seemed to me it would make very thick clothing; hard to move. I didn't think that would be very efficient.

"I see that look you're giving," The elderly lady said, "And that just means I'll to validate my claims to you personally. Come to my home."

"But I don't know who you are," I stated. I was only going to make sure she made it to her home and then be on my way.

"Mrs. Ryu," She replied, "And you?"

"Just Koe,"

"Well, now we know each other, Just Koe," Mrs. Ryu smiled and pointed to a house, "Now, lets get you some coffee and show you real clothing."

"You have a beautiful home," I said to Mrs. Ryu when I entered.

And I didn't lie. It looked and felt warm, like it's been lived in for years. A warm fire lit in the fireplace shined a bright red and orange. Pictures lined the walls and covered the mantels. Furniture handmade of wood, from trees. The smell of a warm smell of something sweet and spicy caught me off guard.

"What's that smell?" I asked, genuinely curious at the delicious smell. I don't think I've ever smelled something so warm before.

"Smell?" Mrs. Ryu sniffed the air as she put her yarn away. "I've gotten so used to what my house smells like, I've lived here so long. Is it bad, dear? I can make some mint tea."

"No, I'm fine. But I'd still like you to show me your knitted works."

"Of course," And with that she left the room.

I wondered about the small room, taking in all I could. Everything was new, but not new. The place has been lived in, I noticed indents on the furniture, scuffs on the floorboards, and dusty covered pictures on the fireplaces mantel. One picture caught my eye of a little boy, who was waving his knitted gloves at the camera. A thick scarf wrapped around most of his neck and face, but I could tell his was smelling but the crinkle in his eyes. It must've been a good time.

"That's my son. Cute kid, right?"

I smiled and nodded, "Yes, very cute." I didn't exactly know the term 'cute', but it must've meant something affectionate figuring from the tone of Mrs. Ryu's voice.

Turning to the old lady, I saw her slender arms carrying a big paper bag. And in that big paper bag was a couple of worn books, bound by string and leather, and some yarn and a couple pairs of needles.

"This is all you need to start off," She said to me abruptly, "Next time we meet you should be able to make a scarf."

"Huh?" No introduction to the matter at all? "Wait, I-"

"Nope, I want to see how much you can accomplish on your own before I teach you any kind of technique."

"But-"

"No buts, child. Now, since you refused tea that must mean you should begin your independent studies. Out you go."

For an old lady, she was fairly quick and strong. After tossing the bag at my face she got right behind me and started pushing me toward the door, the heels of my boots rubbing the wooden floor.

And for one thing, I never expressed interest in learning to knit in the first place. I had only wanted to learn of the properties if knitting and how they could be beneficial in certain circumstances. It could've been much easier for her to show me the finished product of yarn made items so I could compare them to other materials. If this is what happens all the time in this world I should stop expressing interest- or stop helping the elderly with their groceries.

"Can I see some of your work, before I leave?" I asked in a last ditch effort.

Mrs. Ryu, with a smug and devilish look to her face, opened the door and pushed me out of the home. I crash landed into a pile of snow a few feet away, my face buried in snow.

"I'll show you mine when you show me yours," Mrs. Ryu called out then slamming the door, shutting herself off from the outside world and me.

I lifted my head from the snow and shook some of the snow out of my hair. The bag of yarn and books and needles were thrown about upon the snow covered street. Biting back a groan, I fell back into the snow.

"I really need to leave this island."

After the eventful interaction with Mrs. Ryu, I carried the bag of items around while trying to figure a way off the island. But, at the end of the day, I found nothing.

I really did try, but the islands has no boats for sale and imports and exports are few and random. The towns were small and sufficient enough to mostly care for themselves, save for only have one 'witch'/doctor for the entire island. And it was rare for foreigners to come to the island, and they only stay long enough for the log post to reset to the next destination.

In the end I've come to the conclusion that I'll just have to sit and wait for someone to show up. Groaning, I slammed my head on the bar's counter, shaking the entire thing and almost spilling my drink. The other eleven must already have gotten beyond a reasonable head start.

"Hell, do you feel like drinking our entire stock tonight?" The bartender asked in disbelief.

Sighing, I chugged the rest of whatever drink they had given me and slammed the cup back on the counter. My forgotten bright red glasses were back at the castle, sitting on a bedside table, so I had no idea what tavern I stepped into. And in the dimly lit tavern, I could scarcely see the man's face. I couldn't tell you what kind of man he was at all.

"Last one, I swear." I mumbled.

The bartender sniffed and went back to cleaning glasses. I paid up front, mostly in simple supplies from the castle, but it surprisingly meant much to this small village. And I highly doubted he cared of how much I drank, seeing as his bar was empty of customers other than me.
Dust and cobwebs covered the tables, making my nose itch. The counter was meticulous, however, so it must mean he gets some regulars now and again.

"Are you sure its been awhile since a foreigner stopped by this island?" I asked once again.

"For the hundredth time, yes," The bartender, sounding more and more tired, said, "Other than you the only visitors we've had in a long time are pirates who want to raid our stocks."

"You sure?"

"Yes,"

"When was the last time you left this place?"

"This is a bar. People who are foreign come to these places. It's a damn information stronghold, lady. How dense are you?"

I pushed my glass with my finger toward the bartender, "Very dense."

He rolled his eyes and took my glass, refilling it with a different liquid than before. A burned orange color, a very beautiful color I decided then. I was about to ask about the color's name when the bar's bell dinged, signifying a new arrival to the building.

"Welcome," The bartender's voice perked up. "What can I get for you, sir?"

The new arrival walked up to the counter and sat in the seat beside me. I hadn't bother to look at him since I was still examining the color of my drink thoroughly.

"Food would be great," The voice said, and then my eyes widened at the familiarity, "And I would like to contest the fact that this girl right here is, in fact, very dense."

I sputtered and spun my body to face the man I once knew, "Ace?"

Ace smiled widely and tipped his hat, his curly black hair dancing past his ears.

"Good to see you again, Warden. Or is it okay to call you General now?"

A.N/ Well... did you expect that last part? Did you like it?

I may go back and edit a part or sentence here or there, but all in all I'm pleased with the results, as usual!

Don't be shy! Tell me what you think of this chapter and I'll be happy with whatever you say. Constructive criticism all the way!

Next chapter will be in the past again, but it'll move us forward of course. And then we will start to really get into the story by putting the OC in the canon chaos! Oh I can't wait!

I'll try for another chapter next week, so if you like the story and want to continue reading then stay tuned!

See you soon,

Leylainie