A big thank you to Anonymous Dog for commissioning this chapter! They brought chapter 2 along much quicker than it would have otherwise been lol.

I'm about a week or 2 behind schedule here because of the pre-holiday hustle and bustle but I'll still be aiming for a solid 5 chapters during this month. Maybe that's being a little too hopeful but we're gonna try lol.

Sherlock is bugging me about another Househusband chapter so that's gonna come sooner or later, and FtS will be seeing an update before new years. Other than that, I'll do my best to touch up on something that I've been neglecting for a while.

Thank you to everyone on p atreon for supporting me! The illustration poll and the outline for whatever I'm working on next will be available to y'all soon.

X

Shirou's eyes fluttered open, bleary and itchy for some reason. His mattress was harder than it was supposed to be and his whole body felt stiff. He must have fallen asleep in a strange position.

What a strange dream.

People liked to attribute some underlying meaning to their dreams, whether to explain moments of déjà rêvé or simply as something to reference in bouts of introspection. Shirou didn't really think this way—he thought they were innocuous things best left forgotten the following morning, rather—but that had more to do with the fact that his dreams were rarely more abstract than his past memory.

That hadn't been the case last night.

One Piece was a popular story back home, but dreaming about it was a little excessive, he thought. Maybe he just stayed up too late reading it; he got carried away because he hadn't read Jump in a while. It was a moment of nostalgia.

"Hey. Boy."

Hugh…

"Boy. Wake up."

Shirou's eyes shot open.

A titan was crouching at his side. There was no other way to describe this thing. It looked human enough in appearance, only sized up many times over.

A giant.

The giant didn't look to be in the greatest shape; he was all scuffed up.

Head still reeling, Shirou noted that the giant's posture wasn't very threatening. In fact, the giant smiled kindly the moment his eyes opened.

"How are you feeling?" the giant asked. "Can you move?"

"Who…" Shirou trailed off.

The giant picked up the equally-giant cowboy hat from where it lay in the sand and dropped it in his head.

"Dereshishishi!" the giant laughed strangely. "You can call me Saul. I didn't startle you, did I?"

Shirou was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say here?

Jaguar D. Saul. In part thanks to him, Nico Robin was still alive. The giant block of ice he saw before… that had been Saul, frozen solid by Vice Admiral Kuzan.

He wanted to speak, but everything before him made him feel as though he forgot how to. Seeing a giant in a manga was different from seeing one right in front of you.

Saul broke the silence once he noticed the redhead wasn't going to.

"You protected Olvia. Thank you."

Shirou sat upright and winced. Everything was still tender.

"How do you know that?" he asked. There were probably other more important questions to ask, notably how it was that any of them was still alive and not encased in ice, but that one in particular stood out.

The giant sunk his fingers into the ground and swiped toward the shoreline. Instead of sand, what was kicked up was a giant black cloud.

It was only then that Shirou noticed the condition of their surroundings.

It was hardly recognizable. The forest, the beach… It was nothing but ashes and soot now.

"Kuzan saved us, probably," Saul explained, his tone kept even. "The ice was resilient enough to protect us from the fire before melting. I'm… angry. At a lot of things—but I have to acknowledge at least that much. For a monster like him, it couldn't have been anything but intentional."

The giant used his hand to pat the ground next to Shirou gently. The sentiment was akin to pat on the back, or rather its equivalent for two people who shared such a drastic difference in size.

"I found you both half-frozen with your body leaning over hers. Olvia's in pretty rough shape, so if it wasn't for you shielding her, either the ash or the cold would've done her in."

Saul wasn't talking about him fighting Kuzan, then.

Shirou's jaw clenched.

"You said she's in 'rough shape'? Where is she now?"

The giant inclined his head downward. Shirou pushed himself onto his feet and stumbled around Saul's crossed legs to see the woman's unconscious body placed between them, their sheer size being enough to reflect the elements.

"She's still breathing," Saul offered, but looking at her now, Shirou knew it wasn't saying much. "I don't know how much longer she'll stay kicking without treatment, though."

Shirou was nowhere near recovered either. Among the noble phantasms or mystic codes that might have been able to help the woman, none were something he'd be able to conjure. He didn't know how much time had passed since his fight with the vice admiral but it wasn't nearly enough.

It wasn't like they could take her to a doctor. The whole island had been razed to the ground.

"How close is the next populated island?" Shirou asked. Maybe his attention span for comics wasn't the best, but stuff like relative distance never stood out to him when he read the manga. "I can… throw something together. Not a whole ship, but maybe a boat that'll be enough to carry her weight on water."

The mass of his projection—along with his own knowledge of the subject—would be a crucial factor here. Anything more than a wooden rowboat would be impressive for him even on a good day. It would be a small miracle if he could project anything at all.

The giant smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry about that!" Saul exclaimed. "I can handle it. It's a race against time; building something would take too long."

Before Shirou could ask any questions, the gigantic cowboy hat was onced again placed onto the ground.

"Climb on," Saul directed him as he carefully plucked the unconscious woman from between his legs and dropped her onto the brim of his hat. "And hold Olvia steady. I'll try not to drown either of you."

Shirou caught on. His eyes widened.

"You can't mean—!"

"Of course!" Saul boasted. He held his smile for a moment before his expression dropped into something more sullen. "After taking you to the island, I won't be able to do much more to help you. A giant like me is pretty conspicuous in the West Blue. Olvia will be caught right away if she's with me."

…Right. If anyone in the know caught word of Olvia being alive, she'd get a bounty placed on her head. Likely something similar to the one that would be given to Nico Robin soon enough.

"Leave her to me," Shirou intoned confidently. Saul's smile returned at the sight of such a determined look on the face of someone so young.

"What's your name, boy?"

The other-worlder blinked. Saul had introduced himself earlier but they had been speaking this long without the courtesy having been returned.

"I'm Shirou. It's… nice to meet you, Saul."

It would have been better to meet under different circumstances, however.

X

Saul's hulking figure emerged from the sea like some sort of mountain-sized submarine. As he crawled past the shoreline of whatever island he had brought them to, water slid off his body in buckets and crashed onto the earth below.

"Move as fast as you can. Don't stop unless you have to."

Shirou nodded at the giant's urgings as he was lowered to the ground along with his charge.

He and Olvia were pretty dry, all things considered, but the same couldn't be said for Saul. The man was drenched, after swimming across the ocean for literal hours now.

It was beyond "impressive", it was superhuman in every sense of the word. Comic book characters were really something else.

"Will you be all right on your own?" Shirou couldn't help but ask.

His worry was met with Saul's everstrange laugh.

"Of course! You don't have to worry about me. I'll be heading out soon to go visit a few of my good friends. There's much for me to do, but I have plans."

Shirou still looked unsure.

"What about the authorities?"

"I used to be the authorities! Dereshishishi! I know how they work: trust me. If I'm on my own, I'll be able to move around under their noses for at least a little while."

The boy gazed worryingly for a moment longer before a deep sigh escaped his nose. As he fastened Olvia to his back with a projected belt-like structure, he tried to come up with any form of worthwhile parting words but eventually settled for something simple.

"...Thank you. I'll do my very best to save her," he told Saul honestly.

And yet the giant didn't leave right away. He seemed to hesitate about something.

"Saul?"

"...Olvia will have to go into hiding. I don't expect you to look out for her forever, but if you can convince her to stay away from Ohara, I'd appreciate it. There's…"The giant trailed off before falling to his knees and bowing his head pleadingly. "There will be no reason for her to go back. I'll take care of everything. I'll leave no stone unturned."

From where he stood, it was impossible for Shirou to miss the tears streaming down the giant's face.

"That woman's sense of duty is great, but—" Saul grunted. "No! It is because it's so strong that I can't imagine the pain she would feel if she went to that place! So please—!"

"I'll save her, Saul," Shirou repeated.

The Giant's breath hitched and the words got caught in his mouth.

The tears dried up. Saul slowly pushed himself upright.

"Thank you, Shirou."

The boy turned to leave—

"Wait!"

Shirou turned his head over his shoulder. There was something that Saul was clearly reticent to say.

"Olvia's… daughter. I couldn't find her; I don't know what happened to her after Kuzan froze me. She's a mirror image of her mother. A young girl with black hair. If there's any chance that she's alive—"

"I promised Olvia that I'd find her."

Saul couldn't quite find his words for a moment. Shirou's abrupt declaration was delivered with such certainty that it left no room for argument. Asking the whys and the hows escaped him at the moment.

"I see," Saul replied simply. The tears had stopped, now. There was no reason to cry, after all. If his eyes watered a little it was just because of the relief he felt.

"... You aren't going to keep swimming, are you?" Shirou asked him worriedly, eyeing the larger man's battered and bruised frame. Having been able to swim to the next island in that condition was a testament to his herculean will and effort.

Saul scoffed, plopping his hat back onto his head as he did so. The giant rose to his feet and looked off to somewhere above the treeline.

"Of course not!" the giant exclaimed. "I'll make a raft. As long as I can make it to Reverse Mountain, I'll be able to get in touch with someone who'd be able to help me make it the rest of the way."

The name "Reverse Mountain" sounded vaguely familiar to Shirou. It was a significant landmark in the story to be sure, but it wasn't coming to mind.

"Will a raft be enough?" he questioned.

"A raft for a giant is not the same as a raft for a boy like you!" Saul laughed. "The same way that the sea is to a giant something completely different from what it would be to a normal man. What I'll make will be more than plenty. I'll need a day; there's enough distance between this shore and the closest village for me to be able to get everything done before anyone notices, I think."

"I'll come back and help—"

"Just go, Shirou! I have a job to do, and so do you."

The boy wanted to argue, but it was true that he was wasting time. Olvia's condition didn't seem to have worsened despite the rough voyage, but he didn't anticipate that putting off medical attention would do them any favours.

"Right."

Shirou picked her up. With how she was a good bit taller than him in his current body, the best he could do was a bridal carry. It would probably be easier on her as well.

"We'll meet again!" Saul's booming voice came from behind. Shirou paused, smiled, and continued on his way. "I'm sure of it! There's no doubt in my mind that our goals will have us cross paths soon. So… give Olvia my regards! I'll give her my condolences myself. In person."

X

Oliva woke up.

That alone was enough to throw her for a loop. She didn't know what was going on. She didn't know where she was. A bright white ceiling stared down at her mockingly.

The ceiling wasn't the only thing in sight, however. The face of a young red-haired boy emerged from the corner of her eye, blocking the glare of the overhead lights. He smiled down at her.

"You're awake!" the boy exclaimed before a sigh of relief escaped him. "The doctors said you might be unconscious for a while longer. It was tough for them to get your lungs working properly again."

A trembling hand came up to remove whatever was strapped to her face.

The boy's hand gently pulled Olvia's away.

"That's not a good idea," he told her. "You'll be just fine, but that oxygen mask is gonna do a lot of the heavy lifting for a while. Just rest."

Ah. That didn't sound like such a bad idea.

And so she did. Her body relaxed and her eyes became lidded. The boy's pleasant expression was comforting, somehow. Did he know her? He looked a little familiar.

And then she remembered.

The woman flung her body upright, yanking the oxygen mask away from her face as she did so. The contraption's straps snapped clean off, almost whipping them both in the face.

She had failed.

They had all failed.

Ohara was gone. The Navy had followed her back to the island. This was her doing. Her crew, the scholars, the villagers, her daughter—

Robin.

Her beautiful baby girl. A girl who deserved the world, and yet all she could give her was hell.

A wretched cry threatened to crawl out of her throat, but she did an admirable job of keeping it down. Beyond her initial startled reaction, she managed to regain her composure with nothing belying her turbulent emotions beyond a set of tensed lips.

The redhead kept his eyes on her worriedly.

"You are…" she trailed off weekly. All this time, his smile hadn't dropped once.

This was the boy that saved her life, presumably. He fought the vice admiral and somehow they were both still alive.

Her mouth opened. She wanted to thank him and yet…!

What right did she have to be thankful for her own life when she was to blame for all of this?

She was the one who convinced the others to follow her on this voyage. She was selfish. A narcissist.

"You shouldn't have wasted your efforts on me," she told him. The woman's eyes were downcast and glassy for all of two seconds before shooting up as she realised how the dismissal could be interpreted. "Ah! I didn't mean—"

"It's okay," he told her. "I didn't do what I did because I expected anyone to thank me. I'm just happy you're all right."

His efforts to assuage her did nothing but make her feel even worse about herself.

She flipped that feeling on its head, turning to indignance to escape the self-loathing.

"Why did you help me, then?" she asked, suspicion seeping into her tone. The more she thought about it… he wasn't really from Ohara, was he? A strong devil fruit alone wouldn't have let him go toe to toe with Kuzan. The boy was trained in combat. She saw the way the two of them clashed.

The way his easy-going expressions turned into a frown didn't inspire confidence.

The boy hummed.

"Ah, well… it's kind of hard to explain, I guess?"

"Try."

A blush crossed his cheeks, but he pushed his chest out theatrically nonetheless.

"I'm a hero of justice… I suppose."

She blinked slowly. The longer she stayed silent, the more uncomfortable he became.

She burst into a short fit of laughter. Even for just a moment, her seesawing emotions were pushed aside. What he said was just too ridiculous.

"Hey!" he exclaimed accusingly, though he didn't seem to be truly offended.

She wasn't laughing anymore; her hands came up to cup her mouth. There was no betraying the amused squint in her eye, however: something the boy didn't fail to notice.

Laughing at such a silly thing… made her feel a little better, somehow. Even if he wasn't being entirely truthful, it was what she needed.

Her grin stood in place as her arms dropped, though some of her melancholy was still felt slithering under her skin.

"Mm. You did save me. Thank you."

She said it more for his sake, then, rather than her own.

Ah… he was a little too old for her to treat like a kid, wasn't he?

The boy held out his hand in front of him.

"Shirou," he said.

"Pardon?"

"My name's Shirou."

Her mouth formed an "o" shape, though she quickly composed herself and shook his hand.

"Olvia," she said, returning the gesture.

How strange to be exchanging greetings at this stage.

The moment they pulled back, a kind of silence that was difficult to place took over.

"What now?" was more or less the through that ran through her head.

She could see how someone would find that funny, she supposed. After everything they'd been through, almost dying, surviving… now that it was all behind them, there wasn't anything left for them to do together, was there?

Shirou wanted to save her. He accomplished that. She…

She didn't have anything to do. She could claim that it was her duty to continue her life's work—the life's work of her people—but was her heart in it? Could she claim that "finishing what she started" was good enough of a reason after everything?

Olvia hesitated before speaking up, but what had to be said came out anyway.

"You're not from Ohara, are you?"

"No," he answered her easily.

"Then what were you doing there?" She sounded frustrated. "I can't believe you popped up out of thin air."

"I don't know," he answered again. "One moment I was at home, the next I was somewhere I didn't recognize. One way or another I ended up in the middle of that mess, but… sorry. This sounds pretty hard to believe, doesn't it?"

Her words were caught in her mouth.

He didn't know? It did sound hard to believe. Either he thought she was stupid or he was stupid enough to believe she'd buy it.

She actually laughed a little bit.

"Olvia?" he called out to her. The uncertainty in his voice was palpable.

"Sorry," she apologised simply. "I'll drop it. I owe you that much, at least."

Neither one of them knew what they were doing, huh?

"So…" he started slowly. "When are we going?"

Her confused glance was sign for him to continue.

"To save your daughter."

Her throat dried up. Her eyes fell down to her lap.

Ah. Right. She did make him promise her something along those lines: to find her daughter. Back then, there was still hope for her.

"Robin… she's… don't worry about that. After what happened, there wouldn't be any survivors."

Knowing what she knew about the World Government…

"Robin is alive. Kuzan let her go sometime before we ran into him. She must have left for another island."

Huh?

Her head whipped toward him.

"You can't possibly—why would… why would he…"

She started babbling uncontrollably. Her hands were trembling, until the redhead clasped them between his and nearly knocked his forehead against hers. Her instincts took over and she craned her neck back in surprise.

"You don't know that!" he all but shouted. "If there's even a chance that it might be true, that should be enough, right?"

The lump in her throat thickened. Any attempts at putting her thoughts into words failed miserably.

"Mhm."

Here she was being consoled by a boy younger than her. How pathetic.

Shirou grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at arm's length. Again, his smile was disconcertingly reassuring. He was… what? Sixteen? Seventeen? No one his age should have been able to wear such a smile so well.

Her expression dimmed further.

Why are you here?

The thought that crossed her mind was perhaps not the most gracious. Even so… doing this much for a stranger wasn't normal, right? No matter how much you wanted to feel like a good person.

"I asked you to find her, but that was in a moment of desperation," she told him flatly. "I'm… alive—thanks to you. You've done more than enough, Shirou. There's no reason to saddle yourself with the problems of some woman you don't even know."

He shook his head.

"I refuse."

Olvia blinked.

"You—what?"

His look of determination froze in place. A smirk quickly crossed his lips—as though he were thinking of a particularly clever quip—before it disappeared just as fast.

"I refuse your refusal," Shirou reiterated. "I don't like your reason."

That didn't even make sense. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What's your reason, then?" she countered. He still hadn't given an inkling as to why he was so insistent on this.

The boy scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Would you like me to make one up?"

X

Nico Olvia stood still, expression deadpan, as she stared emptily at the younger redhead beaming at her.

The doctor had cleared Olvia after a few hours, stating that the woman was in stable enough condition to be moving around on her own. This worked out in their favour as the pair quickly made way to the docks. It was a large enough town that it saw a decent amount of traffic, luckily enough; there were plenty of commercial ships of all sorts

He was the first to speak up.

"We should hurry, right?"

She held the look for a while longer before sighing.

"There might be someone who could help us, but…"

The way that she trailed off didn't inspire much confidence.

"But?"

Olvia frowned.

"There's a woman I know," she explained. "She was the intermediary between our research group and the person who funded our expedition."

Shirou was caught off guard; he didn't know such a person existed.

"Who's that?" he couldn't help but to ask.

"...Their identity was never revealed to us," she admitted. "Supposedly, the anonymity was for our own sake. For all the good that did."

Olvia sounded understandably bitter.

Shirou crossed his arms. Could it be that the supposed "patron" was the one who got them in trouble with the World Government?

"Is this woman trustworthy then? Can she really help us find Robin?"

"I believe she can. Or at least I believe she'll do her best to help." Olvia's expression dropped. "After everything… she deserves to know what happened."

Shirou intertwined his fingers behind his head and looked up to the sky. It was a clear, sunny day. That meant it would be easier to set sail, right? It was pure speculation on his part. He really didn't know much about how this worked.

The hustle and bustle of sailors running back and forth to their ships, carrying supplies and escorting cargo was lively, to say the least. It was strange walking through such an animated environment knowing that an island and its inhabitants had been wiped from the map not far from here. Information didn't travel as quickly here as it did back home, he imagined, but he didn't think Ohara's destruction would be kept secret from the masses forever. It couldn't be.

Or at least, that wasn't how it worked back home.

"Lead the way," he said.