Chapter 1

A.N.: Hello, Readers! My name is CaptainPrivate, and I am pretty new to this whole writing thing. This is my first story, and if I'm being honest, I was scared about writing. But, the Cross-Brain's This Bites! got me to swallow my fears and do it, so enjoy!

2022 A.N: Hello there! Same writer, same story, I just have a bit more experience. I'll tell you that the story is currently undergoing a rewrite, so there is likely to be points where the story suddenly drops in quality or some stuff just doesn't translate, but I ask for patience- I know what I want from my story now, and I want to respect the source material a bit more, so I'm making the story read better. It probably won't be perfect, since I'm still learning, but the change will probably be noticeable. Anyways, enjoy!

"Gum Gum…" The haki-black arm of one Monkey D. Luffy cocked back, folding in on itself like a massive rubber spring. His torso bulged out with strength untold, but the speed he had shown just panels before confirmed that Fourth Gear was no joke.

"RRRAAAAAAAGH!" bellowed one Donquixote Doflamingo, throwing every string in Dressrosa at the legendary captain of the Straw Hat Pirates, desperate to halt the Unstoppable force that was the rubber man.

"King Kong…" Luffy huffed, steam hissing from every pore in his body, his reddish-black skin glowing with heat, and the contraction of his fist into his forearm reached its apex.

"STRAAAW HAAAAAT!"

"GUN!" and with that, the game was over.

My heart jumped in my chest as I read the masterful dialogue and took in the beautiful art style of one Eiichiro Oda. That was an amazing fight, I grinned, the cloudy sky making it perfect for reading digitally. The thoughtful manga writer really had forged an amazing universe, one I'd followed for almost half my life, so faithfully that I tried to emulate the way his characters acted in life. Now that I thought about it, that might've been a little pathetic, but I didn't care, the Straw Hats were awesome.

"Hey, dipshit," a voice sounded behind me, causing a jolt of fear and shock to run through me, "Get up, we're going out on the boat."

"Fuck off," I groaned, and without looking up from my phone screen, I flipped the finger in the speaker's general direction, "I'm reading," the person I was flipping off was Nate, my older brother. And my brother, to say it simply, was a dick. But, even though he gave me shit, he was still my brother, so I still loved him. Don't tell him I said that.

"Well, then what're ya reading?" I felt the blight of my life's chin on my head, and I instantly clicked the power button on the side of my IPhone to not give him any more ammunition.

"That is something that you don't need to know," I grunt, bucking my head back. My skull struck the bottom of his chin, causing his teeth to rattle, and he jerked back in surprise.

"Woah!" he snorted, rubbing his jaw as he gave me a look that was somehow simultaneously spiteful and endearing, "Someone is on their period!"

"Yeah, well…" I stalled, my brain trying to come up with a comeback, but I came up short. Come on, Ian! Think! I berated myself, and tried to force an insult out to try to compete, "Up yours," well done, Ian, well fucking done.

My brother thought the same thing, and slapped the back of my head, amused, "Nice comeback, Dumb and Dumber," he shook my head around, jiggling my grey matter all about, and I scowled at the ease he was handling me with.

"Stop," I mumbled, irritated, "Can you never just leave me alone?"

"Nope!" ignorant of my plight, my brother wrapped both of his arms underneath my armpits, and lifted, "Up and at 'em! Gramps gave us this boat, and we're using it!"

I tried to struggle, I really did, but you see, my brother was easily ten times stronger than I am, and I'm a weak bastard, so there was no choice but to slather on more sunscreen and venture out to the ocean.

"Why do I have to do this with you, though?" I whined as I trudged through the sand, easily my least favorite part of the beach. Out here in the northwest, most of our stuff was just really rocky rather than sand.

"Because," my brother ran his fingers through light brown hair, his slightly windburnt skin free for all to see, "Mom said that we have to spend more time together, and I don't want to open that particular bag of snakes."

My brother was someone that I'd learned to live with, mainly due to the fact that he's shorter than me. Not by much, but just enough that I could brag about it. Unfortunately, that usually ended with me getting punched in the gut, but… you take what you can get, right? He had hazel eyes, unlike my blue, and was much thicker than I was. And I don't mean fat. The guy was jacked, and the fact that he was a dick to me and only me just made me worry whenever he was around.

We arrived at our Grandpa's old rowboat, the Nicholas II, and clambered in.

Everything was how I remembered it to be; the polished oars, the freshly coated interior, the ornate bow. The tiny thing was made from redwood, and painted a deep red and black two-tone, the wood and paint cured and protected to the point where it could almost be considered ornamental in appearance. For an old ship, my grandpa really did put some real effort into keeping it seaworthy.

"Well, dipshit," my brother sighed, gripping the rear of the small craft, preparing to push, "Ya ready?"

"Yeah," I rubbed the polished wood of the bow, remembering the way the old man had taught us about ships and how they work. He had died a few weeks ago, and had left me and my brother half of the boat each, probably in an effort to mend the relationship between us through forced interaction. Kinda like now, now that I thought about it. So today, we were going out on a short trip to the island he had always taken us when we were younger, to spread our portion of his ashes off the cliffs there.

Nate pushed the small rowboat into the waves of the Pacific, water staining the wooden floor as it sprayed up. Grandpa, I hope you like it, I stared at the bright blue water, clear and clean. This place was always good for a swim, but I didn't feel like it today–it was too calm, too pristine to disturb, so instead, I just sat there, waiting for the waves to carry us.

"What do you think?" my brother grunted as he hopped into the back, and I glanced at him, "Will those clouds make it to us?" he pointed towards something in the distance, and I followed his gaze.

Indeed, a cluster of dark clouds was making its way toward us, the mist-like rain creating a screen of water over the ocean. But there was something a little… odd about this storm. Down below the clouds, there was a hazy mist, not entirely uncommon out here, but in the middle of a storm…? And not to mention, I could've sworn I saw a glint of colors almost like a rainbow roil about inside it, but the sun wasn't shining anywhere! "No, I doubt it," I responded after a short while, not entirely sure if I was right. Something didn't sit well with me on it, but I didn't want my brother to mock me over it.

My stupor of thought shattered as the boat bumped against the rocks of the island shore, and my brother used an oar to dig us into the shore. "We're here," Nate grunted as he hopped out, causing the small craft to sway. He splashed down, pulling a crude leather bag out of his pocket; the bag my grandpa had made to hold his ashes. I followed, the freezing water sending a chill up my spine, and I shiver in the warm summertime air. It might be hot here during the summer, but the water still froze like a bitch.

"So," I said as I splashed onto the rocky shore, my sandals sloshing water left and right, "Shall we begin?"

"I believe we shall," and with that, we began our journey. The island was humble, pretty much a rock in the ocean, but grass and bushes supported a pretty diverse amount of wildlife, primarily rabbits and small birds. When I was younger, this place felt like a country, ready for me to explore. Now, coming back, this place was tiny.

"Which cliff was it again?" Nate asks me, looking around the rocky path we walk, "I don't remember."

"It was the one with the tree he planted," I sighed, a heavy weight feeling like it was pulling me down. It wasn't anything that I wanted to do, saying goodbye. It hurt, because I never felt like I did anything with him, my grandpa. At every chance that allowed it, I would always go off and play video games, ignoring the old man, and I didn't think about what losing him would be like. I took him for granted, thought he would always be there, but all his strength and power that made him him, it didn't help against cancer.

The genetic failure was unstoppable, and the moment we heard, I knew that we would never be able to make up for spent time. The strong pillar of our family was brought to a pile of skin and bones, laid low by the fury of a combined colon, bone, and liver failure. We didn't even find out about it until it had already been tearing him apart for four months, and the Tuesday after I had visited and said my final goodbye, he died. From what my dad said, it was painful and long, rubbing salt into the wound. And now, he was about to be gone forever.

"There it is…" Nate muttered despondently as we marched up a steep hill, and at the top, there the tree stood. The thing itself was simple, a willamette pine he'd gotten from one of his friends, but the spray from the sea seemed to have killed it long ago, chocking it with salt.

"It's all dead," I said, sorrow choking my throat. The tree was shriveled, unnatural, not even a single needle still clinging to its branches. It must've shriveled like my grandpa, almost like a vivre card for him. I would've smiled if I didn't want to cry so badly.

"I think you might've been wrong about that storm," my brother noted as we reached the top, and we saw that the front of the storm was close, far too close than it should have been, "We should hurry up and get this done before it hits, we don't want to be stuck out here with no place to go."

"Yeah…" I nodded in agreement as I looked out at the waves. The ones near the cliffside were smaller, choppy, but that wasn't what garnered my attention. Closer to the storm, tsunami-worthy titans sloshed about, spraying water everywhere. A flash of lightning lit up the dark clouds, black and bloated with water, and the illumination exposed another glimpse of those colors I had seen before.

"Hey, Ian?" Nate gulped as he tapped me on the shoulder, "It might be safer if we came back another time, I don't think Grandpa would want us to do this with that storm coming in."

I spun on my heel, irritated. "Bullshit!" I yelled, indignant, "The tree is right there, and i'm not having you drag me out here on another day, so let's just… fucking do this already!" I snatched the leather bag out of his hand, and stomped up to the edge of the cliff. I looked down at the bag in my hand, a mixture of sadness, irritation, and frustration mixing into a sick pit in my gut. See ya, grandpa, and with that, I yanked on the cord keeping it closed, emptying the contents over the ocean. The ashes filtered out, the wind catching them and scattering each every direction. I saw as a gust of wind caught the rest, spiralling some upwards into the sky as rain began to plink around me. With a satisfied nod, I began to turn back, but a sudden, powerful gust of wind swept me off my feet, the rocks, slick with seawater, doing little to help my footing.

"Ian!" I heard Nate cry as my back slammed into the stone, and in a dazed thought I noted that the top part of my torso was hanging over the side of the cliff. I heard the pounding and slipping of feet, no doubt my brother moving to grab my slowly sliding body, but a flash of reddish-brown in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned my head in confused curiosity, the back of my skull pounding. That sudden shift in weight was all that was needed for my body to begin sliding, teetering on the cliff's precipice. And then…

I was falling.

I strike with a forceful sploosh, the impact forcing the air from my lungs, and my brain jolted awake at the call of life or death. The cold of the water shocked me to my core, salt stinging at my eyes as I screwed them shut. I tried to swim up, but my t-shirt slowed me, causing panic to well up in my already-breathless chest. I thrashed and squirmed, struggling to remove the garment as I sank further down into the sea, each piece of cloth like a lead weight. I'm going to die, a small voice in the back of my head whimpered, and I suddenly found a burst of energy, tearing the shirt apart as the desperate desire–no, need–to live strangled my chest. I pumped my legs harder than I ever remembered, clawing for the surface as the waves above me chopped and swayed in the wind, and I reached as far as I could-

"Gagh- *hack*!" I sputtered, gasping for air as I burst through the surface, the sudden panting causing my brain to become fuzzy as I looked around me. The clouds had closed in, black and foreboding, and whatever relief that I had felt by getting to the surface fell away, replaced instead by bowel-dropping dread. Tsunami-sized waves tore through the sea, seemingly swallowing the ocean itself. Each squall and swell pushed me further towards the rocky cliff, bringing me closer to death by bludgeoning. I panted, pumping my arms and legs to keep my head above the water, trying desperately to survive above all else. Panic was all that I could feel, all I could see, that desperation that clawed at me, pushed me on, and I searched for some hope, some kind of lifeline that I could latch onto.

And to my relief, I saw it. A small, red and black rowboat, one I'd known for a long time. I thrashed my way through the water, fighting the currents with every stroke, until finally, I heaved myself up and collapsed onto the polished interior, retching and coughing in an attempt to empty my lungs of water. Each of my breaths rattled weakly as I rolled onto my back, and blackness ebbed at the edges of my vision. I don't… want… to die… I could feel my brain shutting down, each of my limbs becoming immovable hulks of stone, and the boat rocked violently as waves crashed against its sides, the center of the storm closing in. I… don't… wa… n… t. And then, right above me, a single wisp of colorful vapor swirled, drifting calmly as if unaffected by the wind, shining every color one could think of. As my half-lidded eyes watched, more and more of the substance flowed over the sides of my small craft, dancing around me as colors illuminated the dark sky.

Swirling.

Swirling.

Swirling.

Like mist.