Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The sensation of old straw against his red hair was a familiar (and sometimes itchy) feeling but the lack of it was just as telling. For years and years Shanks had kept it safe, wearing it constantly to the point it became synonymous with his image as a pirate and as one of the fabled emperors. A monster that ruled his portion of the New World's territory against the likes of Big Mom, Kaido, and Whitebeard. But that was out there. Here it was far different. Compared to that stretch of ocean located far away from this peaceful East Blue village, it was here where he was just Shanks the goofball. A guy that would swoop in with his crew and not be recognized, have a party where they all could cut loose, and then eventually be on their way.
At some point a kid had wormed his way into the Red-Haired Pirates' collective hearts, reminding them all of simpler times. Little Luffy was an idiot as all children were wont to be most of the time and his antics were always good for a laugh.
Then he went and ate the devil fruit they stole from the World Government. That fruit. The 'Gum Gum Fruit' as the marines now called it. But Shanks knew exactly what it was he and his crew had taken from the marines.
While Shanks berated the boy for making such an important decision, losing his ability to swim just because he was hungry, in his mind he realized this was what he was meant to do. His old captain's words on that day came back to Shanks with startling clarity. While Shanks had not been there for the Roger Pirate's greatest achievement, when they came to collect him and Buggy they made sure to tell the young boys hints about something to watch for in the future.
On the day the Red-Haired Pirates would leave Foosha Village for the last time, Shanks finally understood what was required of him.
He'd removed his favorite accessory and plopped it atop Luffy's head.
As their ship pulled out of port, Shanks leaned against the railing and waved to the little boy now wearing his otherwise simple straw hat. He grinned, and went to scratch his nose with his left hand only to remember he was now down an arm. With a sigh that turned into a wry chuckle Shanks turned to search for a fresh bottle of grog to accompany him on the journey.
"Mission accomplished, captain."
Buggy the Clown scowled beneath his cloak and downed his cheap beer, eyes darting around the dingy Loguetown tavern. Things were going as planned and that's what worried the pirate. After his unfortunate incident in Orange Town, he now had his body again. Those blasted Straw Hats were here in the area unknowing of what would befall them. And his own crew were spread out watching and waiting for the time to strike.
But in spite of everything Buggy knew better.
Damn that flashy hat…and damn his old captain.
Another figure in a similar cloak dropped into the chair, pushing forward to lean their chin in their palm. Red lips smiled from beneath the cowl and a thin eyebrow lifted quizzically, green eyes watching as Buggy tried to burn a hole through the bottom of his mug with eyesight alone.
"I warned you about the piss water in this bar."
"Bah," Buggy grumbled. "It being out of the way was just what I needed at the moment, shitty beer or no."
"Are you sure you're doing okay? I thought you'd be more excited."
Buggy drained the dregs of his booze and wiped his mouth with his forearm. To Alvida's secret surprise none of his apparent makeup smeared and she swore to ask him later about what brand he used.
"Oh I'm excited all right! Today's the day I get my revenge on that blasted straw hat! We've got eyes all over the town and finally, FINALLY, I can beat this curse!" The clown threw back his head and laughed uproariously, and Alvida eyed her partner's reaction very carefully.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Buggy's eyes were wide as he snapped his chin down, the shadow of his hood exaggerating the colorful markings and deepening the creases of his face into something maddening. He leered in the low light of the tavern.
"Do you know?...what it's like?...to be told at a young age…that your own aspirations are a joke?! That no matter how hard I fight and plunder and sail, fate would never let me reach the peak as my forebears in piracy did?! My old crew witnessed miracles all over the Grand Line and then at the end of the road they just…accepted the future laid out before them all! But not I, oh no! Back then I should have realized—the blasted hat; why didn't I notice until it was too late!" A white-gloved fist crashed against the aged wooden table and rattled Buggy's empty stein. "Today I spit in the face of fate."
Alvida blinked rapidly at Buggy's snarling visage before the man suddenly relaxed against the backing of his chair.
"Well. Okay then."
"Trust me Alvida, tonight a new chapter of our lives unfolds!"
And yet…
Buggy could still feel the horrible bite of the freak lightning bolt searing his nerve endings, and several of his fingers still wouldn't reattached correctly. Buggy had him. HE HAD HIM! The sword was less than an inch from cleaving through the rubber brat's neck and shattering the pall of destiny with Buggy's own hands. Then the completely accidental blast from nature happened. Or…to most it was out of the blue. After all they were in the middle of a fierce storm on top of a large metal construct. But to Buggy…that damn smile on the Monkey boy's face was the damn spitting image of himon that day. He hated it, hated it, HATED IT! Even as he still mourned for his deceased leader, he hated it all the same!
Damn it all!
Buggy trembled and shuddered within his personal quarters and cursed how his own life was second fiddle to the whims of some damn flashy brat!
The great whale moaned into the air, rattling the looser crags of the nearby Red Line with the force of its voice alone. Laboon, the lone island whale of Reverse Mountain's northern lighthouse, was sad again. Not an uncommon sight…but its trigger was different for once. For fifty years he cried for his missing pod and fought with all his might to push past the mountains barring his path so he could go off and search for them himself. The musicians claimed they would return one day and yet as the years passed the Rumbar Pirates failed to appear. While Laboon never truly lost hope, it didn't douse the sense of pain and betrayal resting in his heart. The scars along the front of his oblong head were both a physical reminder of his attempts to escape, as well as how he felt inside.
But things changed.
A rookie crew in a sheep-headed caravel had blasted its way through Laboon's melancholy, promising to return once they reached the end of their own journey. The same words spoken decades ago. A meaning that should have caused the animal to rear back in disgust, because how could they mean nothing more than another broken promise?
Yet the misshapen jolly roger painted across the width of Laboon's head spoke otherwise. A real reminder that the Straw Hat Pirates would make good on their word. Somehow, even if Laboon was capable of speaking an intelligible language, the whale wasn't sure if he could put into words why he implicitly trusted the funny little human that stretched like rubber.
Luffy and the rest would return. Laboon was sure of it, and as the tiny ship shrank along the horizon Laboon ensured his cries of encouragement would reach them for as long as possible.
At the cape of Reverse Mountain there sat a man in a folding chair, elderly in appearance with a strange flower-like petals spreading out from his scalp. His name was Crocus, and he was the caretaker of both the lighthouse itself as well as Laboon.
While originally he was antagonistic towards the pirate crew, it was to be expected. Hunters constantly wanted his aquatic friend as a source of meat or some sort of trophy given how far away the West Blue whale was from home. So naturally…the Straw Hats were promptly set within the 'foe' category on principle.
But something poked at Crocus' brain the more he interacted with the goofy crew. The lovesick cook, the timid marksman, the catty navigator, the dense swordsman, and the idiotic captain. Especially the captain. The itch in his skull centered around the foolish glutton and for the life of him he couldn't say why.
But then they showed their true colors and managed to befriend his ornery Laboon and he finally realized…
The hat.
It was the damn hat from the red-haired brat that finally triggered his nostalgia.
Crocus couldn't help but laugh aloud as the Going Merry churned towards the Grand Line proper. How long ago was it now? No wonder he barely remembered! Oh, how embarrassing it would be for his old crew to hear how scatterbrained he'd gotten in his old age!
"Godspeed Joy Boy! Godspeed!"
Laboon heard his caretaker's shout and bellowed to match.
He didn't know who Joy Boy was but the name lifted his spirits something fierce.
The Dark King himself sat with a toothy grin, watching as his charge blew on a set of raw and stinging knuckles. Silvers Rayleigh, former right hand of the pirate king himself, was in a jovial mood today. "Good job! You actually had it there for a moment!"
Sticking his tongue out Monkey D. Luffy then swiftly turned his attention back to his battered hands. "All I've done is punch rocks until my knuckles hurt!"
"And that last strike did the trick. Didn't you feel the change? I certainly did and I'm all the way over here."
The young pirate cocked his head with a look Rayleigh would liken to constipation, but for someone like Luffy, it was an expression of deep thought. The older man just gestured towards the massive boulder Luffy had tenderized all day. Like everything else on Rusukaina even the earth itself was abnormally large and tough while it weathered the constantly shifting seasons. The stone face Luffy crouched near was broken in half, with a fair portion of its front wedge crushed inward by way of a sudden major force.
Rayleigh saw it all; the tinge of shiny black crawling up Luffy's hand right before contact between skin and rock. It felt like the effort was slow going but they still had almost two full years to get Luffy up to snuff. More than enough time before the Straw Hat Pirates' self-imposed exile came to an end and they reconvened to journey towards the next portion of their great adventure.
Rayleigh had his own part to play.
He'd known for, hmm, twentyish years now that this day would certainly come. The moment Luffy and company had landed on Sabaody Rayleigh knew his retirement was at an end. He saw Luffy's face: that smile, that scar, that hat. Rayleigh had laughed, kissed Shakky goodbye, and then promptly allowed himself to be captured by the first goons he came across just to see how the boy would inevitably handle the vile auctions plaguing the archipelago. Luffy certainly didn't disappoint, even if it took a new friend of his getting swiped for the knucklehead to get properly wound up enough to act. The lack of freedom on Sabaody was an illusion. Everyone watched their backs just in case they became a target for the island's greatest export: slavery.
But now the former pirate would see Monkey D. Luffy gain the skills needed to last in Paradise…and beyond.
"Say. Luffy." The teen perked up at Rayleigh's serious tone. "What does being a pirate mean to you?"
"Whaddya mean?"
"Most go out to sea for fame and glory. Stealing, fighting, raising their bounty, in the hopes to one day reach the heights of the pirate king. To be a pirate means expectation. By using the title of pirate they're expected to do those things, and plenty revel in the infamy."
"Ooooooohhhhhhhh…meh."
"You don't agree?" Rayleigh forced his tone of surprise even as the smirk continued to grow along his face. His student rapidly shook his head and scowled.
"Hell no! Being a pirate means going out on adventures and making new friends! Finding a crew that becomes your family! Seeing the world and everything it holds! Piracy means freedom!"
And Rayleigh just laughed. It wasn't the mocking sort and yet Luffy's face took on a sour look until Rayleigh trailed off and nodded in amusement. "That's a good answer. A damn good answer. Gold Roger himself would agree."
"Really? You think so?"
"Oh, more than anything."
…
…
The two years of tough training seemed to speed past in the blink of an eye and Rayleigh couldn't have been prouder of his captain's spiritual successor. Actually, no. That was completely wrong. As the aged former member of Gol D. Roger's pirate crew observed Luffy reclaim his most precious possession, it wasn't the sight of a young man picking up his straw hat…
But of a king retrieving his crown.
Zunesha trumpeted to the heavens as the drumbeat inflamed his soul. The dark pits of the ancient Naitamie-Norida elephant's eyes shone with an inner light and the animal was nearly brought to tears as the forgotten melody of freedom shook the earth. Even now after 800 years, the Drums of Liberation howled just as powerfully as they had back then and he could hear it even now beyond the distant shores of that lonely little island.
His friend.
His comrade.
Though Zunesha knew in his heart that this wasn't really the man he remembered...it didn't matter. Against its own will the world tried to erase its greatest champion from history and the hearts of everyone that lived upon it. But now that champion had finally returned and with it, hope.
"Joy Boy…has returned!"
Twenty-Four Years Ago
The days were long but the nights felt longer. Gol D. Roger sighed quietly in his isolation as the Oro Jackson cut near silently through the foggy waters at the end of the world. While physically he appeared perfectly healthy, it was the man's internals that were getting worse as of late. Random aches and pains along with a cool burning sensation which wound its way through his torso and squeezed at his lungs. Yet he never let it affect his drive or demeanor around those who looked upon him, friend or foe. He had to maintain appearances after all.
Ol' Crocus was a godsend, giving him enough time to see things through to the end. But despite the Oro Jackson's newish doctor performing damn near miracle treatments, the captain of the ship remained on borrowed time. But that was fine. Death had never scared him before. He just wished he'd be able to live long enough to see the future his path would forge.
A bell chimed furiously and Roger perked up, slipping out of the captain's room as the man on watch raised the alarm. "Land ho! Land ho! We actually made it! Laaaaaaaand hoooooooo!" Doringo screamed from the crow's nest, voice a mix of disbelief and joy as he slammed the clappers back and forth into the ringing metal.
More and more voices joined in as the rest of the crew either awoke from their slumber or jumped from their positions standing guard around the ship for dangers in these uncharted waters, everyone rushing to the bulwark for a better look. Roger leapt from the upper deck and hopped up to the mast. Hanging from the thick ropes he looked off in the direction Doringo pointed at, and his infamous smile returned in full force.
"You heard him boys! Sweep the sails and someone turn that rudder! We're about to make port!"
Bodies dashed around as all hints of fatigue vanished on the wind. Roger dropped to the deck and clapped the nearest person to him on the shoulder. Kozuki Oden startled at the contact but grinned back in turn. "This is truly exciting!"
"We're here, Oden. This is it. The final island. I'm glad you're here my friend."
The Oro Jackson was left in the shallows of the nearest beach, as the fog was still decidedly thick enough to quickly lose track of the ship and none wanted to remain behind while the rest of the crew went ashore. Roger was the first to jump and his boots sank into the murky water, splashing his legs and leaving deep boot prints in the wet sand. He inhaled the air and for a moment Roger swore his breathing became just a bit less labored.
The unnamed island was nothing but high cliffs around the exterior, but as the Roger Pirates moved inland the scenery quickly changed. The uneven crags eventually smoothed out into flat grassland and obsidian fragments dotting the inclines they were forced to climb. Roger's chest burned from the labor but he waved off the concern of his company, and relief was quickly felt as Rayleigh gave his captain a bit of a boost to reach the end of the line. The rest of the crew scrambled after, several panting for air after the intensity of the climb.
White.
Lots of white.
Roger rubbed his eyes as he tried to peer through the gentle but thick mist covering the peak of the island, turning everything in the distance hazy and difficult to describe by sight alone.
"I'm getting sick of this weather," Gaban grumbled, readjusting his sunglasses. "Nothing but low visibility wherever you go."
"It's the end of the line, the hardest island to reach! Of course it'll be off-putting. Besides, everything you see will be dark."
"Ah, shut your hole Yui and start searching for anything important."
The rest of the crew trailed behind Roger as their captain marched forth like an energetic puppy, heads on a swivel as they began to spread apart. A few were already feeling disappointment over how…simple, the island was. But their frustration didn't last long. In fact it was their newest member who spoke up next.
"Everyone! Do you not feel that?"
Eyes turned to Oden, as the samurai held out his hand, eyes closed in concentration. Crocus cocked an eyebrow before slowly shaking his head. The petals sprouting from the back of his head wavered with the motions.
"Uh…you'll have to be more specific."
"No," Roger breathed out. His lips were stretched as wide as they could go. "All of you. Stop. Listen. Oden has the right of it."
Shrugging, the rest of the pirates did as was asked. Many failed to understand what they were supposed to be 'feeling' but the more experienced members of the Roger Pirates focused intently on…well, again, they weren't sure. They listened to the wind and felt the earth beneath their feet. Jacksonbanner crouched and bowed his curly head, setting a hand upon the warm soil.
He suddenly recoiled. Despite the large amount of hair covering his eyes, it was obvious his hidden orbs were widened in surprise.
"Feel it, yes?"
"Yeah," the tall crewmember stated. "What is that? I don't see a volcano anywhere but I'm not sure if we should rule out an eruption."
Sunbell pursed his thick lips in confusion before the fish-man spoke up. "I still don't get what you're all talking about."
"The island's alive!" Roger crowed. "It's incredibly faint and slow, but it has a heartbeat!"
BA BUM…BA BUM…
It rattled through their boots with sudden clarity. Incredibly slow and incredibly weak, but there was indeed something shaking deep within the island.
Roger barked a laugh and suddenly ran forward into the pale mist. "Can't you tell? It's getting stronger!"
"CAPTAIN!"
"I knew someone should've stayed close to him! It'll be like when we lost him on Raijin Island for three days again!"
"Yeah that was on us."
"Let's go!" Oden shouted above the moans and groans of his peers, sandals clopping loudly as he tore after his temporary leader. The excitement building in his core was indescribable, and Kozuki Oden dashed forward to seek the source of the resplendent noise.
One by one the rest of the crew ran after them, until they reached both Roger and Oden who in turn had come to a halt a ways away. There in the distance the faint protrusion of thick tree boughs could just be seen peeking through the clouds. A structure, or perhaps a destination. It glittered even through the thick fog and several were quite eager to explore the possible treasure trove. But Roger stood completely still with his arms wide and a look of unexpected serenity softening his features.
"Why? Why does this sound…familiar?"
BA BUM, BA BUM, BA BUM
The sensation had grown stronger, now loud enough to be heard without effort. The ground pulsed beneath them and small stones scattered about their clearing jumped and rattled with every beat.
"Why do I feel like I should know this?"
BA BUM
"Why do I feel so happy?"
His illness was a distant memory. His pain was gone. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry or cheer as his emotions went haywire.
BA BUM
And then the air itself before them twisted and solidified into a mirror sheen. The crew recoiled and many drew their weapons but Roger rocked eagerly on his heels.
"What in blazes is that?!"
The oddity suddenly turned pitch black but shiny, and joyful laughter filled the air as though the strange thing was a projector of sorts. Yet no Den Den Mushi could be found in the immediate area.
With a snap, crackle, hiss, moving images appeared on the screen. A little boy shown eating an odd purple fruit with swirling loops along its skin, before he was then shown stretching his body like rubber. He was given a straw hat with a red band by a tall man with equally red hair. Three boys, one of which was the black-haired one with the straw hat, ate and played and fought each other in equal measure.
"That…that's my hat!"
"Captain?"
Roger spun towards Rayleigh, moustache twitching as he pointed at the screen. "My straw hat! The one I gave to Shanks!"
"How can you tell?"
"Oh I'd never forget it. There's life inside that hat, I tell you. I never understood it myself but wear it long enough and you'd understand too."
"So does that mean the red guy is Shanks?"
"He's older if it's true."
"Then…this is the future?"
"That's a nasty scar he's got on his face."
"…are you ignoring he just lost an arm, Taro?"
"What? No!"
"But what devilry is revealing this to us?"
"Everyone quiet!" Roger ordered. The rest immediately fell silent. "If this is the future…then let me watch in peace."
The mood became somber and Oden worked his jaw as the boy tried to punch a nearby tiger, arm stretching like a rubber band but ultimately failing to make a difference as the elongated limb refused to move in a straight line. "But who is the child then? These…images are focused upon him."
Roger shushed him. "Keep watching and maybe we'll find out."
Things increased at a rapid pace soon after. The boy was older and had gone out to sea. An ever growing number of people surrounded him as they sailed the ocean and went to islands the Roger Pirates recognized from their own journeys. A swordsman. A navigator. A marksman. A chef. A doctor. An archeologist. A shipwright. A musician. A helmsman. One of the most diverse crews any of them had ever seen, incredibly unique in power, skill, and shape. All of them showing intense loyalty to the boy in the straw hat as he won over their hearts with his goofy but determined demeanor. Whole islands liberated by the crew from distant oppressors, leaving with the heartfelt thanks of the saved ringing in their ears.
"You know captain…he kind of reminds me of you. That smile…"
Roger hummed after Spencer's quiet observation, and the murmurs that followed were collectively agreeable.
A man made of fire, the older version of who they now realized was one of the boys from before. Marines and an elderly Whitebeard fought atop a battlefield of ice, and ultimately ended with Roger's greatest rival dead and the fire boy with a hole blasted his chest as he protected Straw Hat.
Roger felt an inexplicable flash of rage that boiled the air beneath the strength of his Haki. No one had to say it; the visuals were enough. Throw some facial hair on him and the fire boy was the spitting image of Roger. Straw Hat and Whitebeard himself went to save his son from the World Government and failed in the end.
It broke Straw Hat for a time, and Roger commiserated over the pain. Rouge…he hadn't visited her in years due to the journey…and yet he was close to tears over a son that had yet to exist.
Things lightened, somewhat, as a white-haired Rayleigh seemed to train Straw Hat. Time sped forward and Straw Hat was once again out to sea. And then the strange screen became static, and the pirates groaned.
BABUMBABUMBABUM
The images returned. The heart beat shook their limbs with its increasing strength.
A massive blue-scaled dragon wound through the air, harsh flames crackling along the shoulders of its thin arms. A small figure, miniscule in comparison, seemed to be struggling to fight against it. It was Straw Hat…and while he put up a great battle of Haki and Devil Fruit, in the end the dragon emerged victorious.
It roared, long body swimming through the sky above the fallen boy. He looked like death warmed over: flesh burnt, covered in dust and dirt, and a face mired in the shadows of defeat cast by the broken battlefield.
"Why would they show us this? Why show his journey if it ends in tragedy?!"
Straw Hat didn't move.
But the heart beat changed.
No longer did it convulse in a timely pattern, but now it had taken on the sharp staccato of a drum. Over and over it rang, stronger and stronger it beat, until the worry and anger within the Roger Pirates was lost beneath the mounting emotion of excitement. Something was happening—it had to be! Why else would the focus be so demanding of the fallen captain? Why would the island's internal beat change so rapidly just as the image of death was presented? The Roger Pirates began to cheer even though they knew it was futile. They roared for the boy and demanded he rise! Get up! Fight! Their fervor reached a fever pitch alongside the drums even though their words could not reach him, and yet on screen…
Straw Hat twitched.
"YEAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Roger cackled as a thin stream of stark white smoke escaped Straw Hat's parted lips. From all over his body similar streams emerged, hissing into the air as the drumbeat pulsed through the watchers' souls. Multiple drums of different ranges mixed together to form one solid cacophony of music that invigorated the pirates to the point they were jumping and cheering and swinging arms over one another to dance about, knowing in their hearts that Straw Hat would return.
The camera view closed in on the captain's scarred chest before dragging its way to his blank face. He twitched again, as the steam from between his lips thickened. The drums reached their crescendo, pausing for a moment, as the wild spikes of Straw Hat's hair suddenly lengthened and turned white at the ends, wiggling upwards in the nonexistent wind like rubbery worms.
The drums began again, and to everyone's joy their favored pirate slowly grinned beneath the cover of his lively hair.
An imprint of the sun flashed across screen with a body posing before it. The man carried a sword and spear with his mouth open in happiness, before the image vanished just as swiftly as it appeared.
Straw Hat finally rose, his clothes and hair bleached a pure and untarnished white, with his hair and eyebrows turning wispy and swirly. Dark eyes were now a vivid bloody red. A ribbon of condensed clouds floated around his neck and shoulders. But the Straw Hat remained untouched, hanging behind him by its strings.
The drums were clear.
The entire Roger Pirates, who had witnessed this strange transformation, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what had taken place before them.
Here on this nameless island…it didn't hold gold or priceless treasures. No ancient weapons or knowledge long forgotten to time. No…something better.
With the extraordinary treasure that sat before our eyes at that moment…Roger was laughing.
Great, heaving guffaws burst from Roger as Straw Hat danced and jumped and made a fool of the dragon with power beyond anything the lot of them had ever seen before. The entire crew had fallen into one another, guts bursting at the seams as they laughed their asses off. The pure emotion exploding off the land filled them with so much joy it couldn't be contained. They laughed and laughed until they cried from the effort of losing themselves to the moment.
As the tears gathered in Gol D. Roger's eyes, his smile threatened to tear his face in half. The transformed Straw Hat was a walking natural disaster of silliness and celebration and the blue dragon found itself on the back foot. Roger had never felt better before in his life! Even back in his prime he never felt so, so energized and happy! If the man spread his arms and flapped them like wings, he was damn sure he could take off like a bird and soar! There was no denying what was playing out before him!
What a miracle to witness such an event in his lifetime! No…but that was wrong, wasn't it?
Roger was given this chance because he wouldn't be around to witness the liberation of the world.
No wonder this island was so difficult to reach! The gods themselves walked along its shores handing out wonders to those worthy enough in their eyes!
"Joy Boy!...I wish I had lived in the same era as you!" he said aloud. There was no sadness to his words but a firm declaration of the inevitable. Whether it was the distant past or the near future, such a wonderful being had left him such an equally wonderful gift to appreciate until the end of his days. Hewould return one day, and so very soon! "How could you leave this stupendous treasure! It's such a funny story!"
Straw Hat eventually struck down the raging beast and the people of a familiar county on screen cheered for their freedom from the tyranny of a murderous monster. The Roger Pirates cheered too, none more than Oden as he recognized his homeland.
The images quickly shut down and dissipated into cloudy particles of energy.
The Roger Pirates continued to laugh and applaud even as the Drums of Liberation started to peter off back to a gentle, invisible beating heart until they were all alone with no sign to mark they had even happened in the first place.
…how…funny…
It was the greatest joke of all. The ultimate wealth thought to exist was nothing so simply tangible. Only those beyond material things could ever hope to reach this emotional peak. Joy Boy's fabled treasure was happiness and the hope of a brighter world. And now it was Rogers! A single piece of positivity and confidence greater than the earth itself, a sense of freedom beyond mortal bounds that could be shared by all. Here at the end of all things it came as a reward to a dying man seeking nothing from the gods but finding happiness in his limited days. And while it was just a spark right now in the hearts of those gathered… it would spread one day, growing with each person touched by that happiness…
One day…
Roger turned to his men as a silly little thought struck him. His familiar grin was firmly in place, and he called out to his crew. "Hey! Everyone! Why don't we name this last island that no one has reached for 800 years something like…"
Gol D. Roger threw his arms in the air and shouted out in sheer joy.
LAUGH TALE
The wooden cuffs were tight about his wrists as Roger knelt upon the execution platform, the blades of his eventual killers crossed before his throat. Even now, with his face tight and eyes glaring, the fabled pirate king smiled out to amassed crowd of Loguetown. Locals and visitors alike filled the town's center and nearby streets to the brim with the greatest crowd to ever grace the East Blue's final island.
Today the world would make history as it stole the life of the greatest sailor to ever live.
Or, that's what the normal masses believed. The Roger Pirates knew better.
Internally Roger's mind was far more active than his expression led the crowd to believe. He wished to meet Straw Hat. He wished to meet his own unborn son. He wished his lungs weren't tearing themselves apart even as he pretended nothing was wrong. But he had made his choice to die on his terms and so turned himself in willingly to the marines.
His successor had yet to be born. Both a king and a god beneath the flesh of a man. Ah…Roger wished he could stick around long enough to at least share a drink with the boy but alas, his time was at an end.
Instead…he would leave a gift of his own for the boy beyond inheriting his old hat. Something to ensure Joy Boy returned as Laugh Tale foretold. So that one day Straw Hat could continue spreading the divine good will and cheer beyond the borders of a single solitary island.
"HEY KING OF PIRATES! WHERE DID YOU HIDE ALL THE TREASURE YOU FOUND?! YOU GOT IT RIGHT?! THE LEGENDARY TREASURE! THE ONE PIECE!"
Perfect.
Roger laughed even as his chest threatened to split in half.
"My treasure? If you want it you can have it! Find it yourselves! Everything this world has to offer I left in one place!"
The blades pulled back and Roger continued to smile as the crowd broke into frenzied whispers. His story had reached its end. But he was but one life amongst uncountable odds.
Gol D. Roger died at the age of 53, executed by the World Government for his extensive list of crimes. But while the era of the Pirate King ended, thus began the golden age of piracy as the world was spurred on by their king's parting words:
To reach the final island only one crew had ever reached before.
To find the One Piece.
As the spears pierced his torso Roger's mind was elsewhere. I'll be watching you Straw Hat, he thought to himself as his consciousness faded.
The comforting beat of the drums was the last thing he ever heard.
Also found on AO3.
This story was not meant to exist.
I had no plans for it. One Piece, I love it, but I never thought I might write something in its world. I stumbled over a OP one shot story where a mysterious island causes the Roger and Straw Hat pirates to bump into each other. And I guess going off of that then a few days ago in the shower my wandering mind had a sudden intrusive thought, and here we are.
I had to get this done. Especially with how the live action releases in less than a month, and the world's most anticipated episode of an anime EVER will be dropping in a few days. Personally I have no idea what the One Piece could possibly be, but Joy Boy (obviously) and the concept of a straw hat seem to be involved.
Again, this was going to be a short story but then I kept adding and adding.
I'm proud of it though.
Take care of yourselves, the world's basically on fire.