Disclaimer: This narrative and its characters are inspired by the incredible worlds of Naturo and One Piece, which belong to their respective copyright holders.


The whispers of ancient lore rode upon the wind as Dragon, beneath the East Blue dawn, fixed his gaze upon the distant horizon. A profound sense of melancholy hung in the air, its tendrils entwining with every icy breeze, casting a shroud of nostalgia over the remote island where time appeared to stand still. In this secluded sanctuary, Dragon found solace only in the company of those few he trusted implicitly. Ivankov, his steadfast companion, shadowed his every move, mindful of the looming presence of the Marines.

Within Dragon's embrace lay a precious bundle, swathed in the tender embrace of white cloth—a newborn infant, cradled with the utmost care. Since the tumultuous events of the Ohara Incident, Dragon had been adrift amidst the tempest of personal obligations. Yet, he understood that this journey was inevitable. The burgeoning Revolutionary Army offered no sanctuary for a man of his background. Thus, he had entrusted the care of this innocent soul to the one he had forsaken years ago—his father, Garp, a stalwart figure whose visage bore the scars of a lifetime of service.

Garp, a titan among the ranks of the Navy, stood before Dragon, his countenance a testament to his indomitable spirit. Despite the ravages of time etched upon his features, his presence exuded the same unwavering strength and sense of righteousness.

"After all these years, you dare to stand before me," Garp thundered, his voice heavy with reproach.

A paragon of moral rectitude, Garp had endeavored to instill within his son the same fervor for justice. Yet, Dragon had forged his own path, estranged from the Marines he deemed corrupt.

Undeterred by his father's condemnation, Dragon pressed on, his resolve unyielding. "Urgent circumstances demand your aid, father," he declared resolutely.

Garp's response was steeped in disdain, his arms crossed in defiance. "What aid can a Marine offer to a criminal such as yourself, Dragon?" he retorted with simmering hostility. "The only thing you'll find here is my fist meeting your face."

Unfazed by his father's hostility, Dragon beckoned to Ivankov. With regal poise, the enigmatic figure approached, a silent sentinel poised to defend against any threat.

"This child is your flesh and blood, your legacy," Dragon proclaimed solemnly, passing the infant into the awaiting arms of his comrade.

Garp found himself caught in the sudden storm of emotions, facing a destiny he hadn't anticipated. The web of expectations he'd spun on his journey to this inescapable encounter dissolved in the face of his lineage's continuation through the fragile life of his grandson. An internal struggle erupted within him, leaving him stranded in a limbo between action and inaction. The sight of his grandson ignited a flame of belonging and unconditional love, a beacon in the wasteland of his soul. Yet, the resentment towards his son, whose departure shattered the vision of a legacy founded on honor and justice, clamored for judgment.

"His name is Itachi," Dragon introduced, positioning the child as a bridge over the chasm between two conflicting realms.

Garp, with a motion laden with significance, stepped forward to observe the infant closer. His gaze, detached from those around him, settled on the innocence his grandson personified. The sheer purity of young Itachi enveloped him in a tenderness he seldom knew, a softness alien to his warrior's hands. The depth in the child's eyes, wellsprings of untold enigmas, stirred a primal urge in him to shield this nascent life from all harm.

Garp, a man led by instinct and fervor, recognized a new direction in his life, a beacon dispersing the shadows of betrayal and disillusionment.

With eyes that seemed to traverse epochs, Garp confronted Dragon, his voice imbued with a gravitas born of resignation. "It seems you have not failed in this, foolish son," he spoke, his glance briefly surveying those around his son, "but this child deserves not to be enveloped by the disgrace you and your cohorts propagate."

Their parting was a blade of nostalgia and separation, cold to the touch. "I wish not to see you again," he murmured, turning away with the finality of a definitive adieu.

Dragon, cognizant of the rift his choices had carved between him and his father, could only marvel at the resilience of familial ties that, despite adversity, remained indomitable. The leader of the Revolutionary Army and his loyal followers resumed their journey, leaving behind the hope of a future where forgiveness and understanding might bloom from the ruins of bygone days.

As Dragon distanced himself from his father's formidable presence, he felt a profound relief—not from the assurance of his progeny's safety but from having upheld a semblance of fortitude under his father's scrutinizing gaze. Yet, internally, he was torn, wrestling with the notion of being the lineage's greatest failure, contemplating seeking pardon for the shadows his choices cast upon their heritage.

Far off, Garp made his way to his unique vessel, still captivated by the nascent life he had just embraced. The intensity of the infant's look resonated within him, and in a moment of tranquility, the echo of a child's laughter—pure and freeing—blessed his spirit, adorning the moment with its celestial cadence. Unbeknownst to him, a genuine, radiant smile graced his features, a testament to a heart that, against all odds, found reasons to beat with renewed hope.

In a setting tinged with emotional wounds and the possibility of redemption, the slow convergence of two individuals—each charting a distinct course yet indelibly linked by the ties of kinship—kindled a flicker of hope within the heart of the sea-hardened veteran.

Carrying the weight of memories and dreams left unachieved, Garp let his words float into the void, a fusion of reminiscence and determination, as if entrusting his deepest convictions to the embrace of the air: "You will rise to become the noblest among the Marines." This pledge, surpassing simple speech, stemmed from the faith of a grandfather who saw in his grandchild's innocence the seed of a new dawn.

"I am certain of it," Garp affirmed, his gaze cast toward the distant horizon, committing himself to guide the young one towards that noble fate.


This storyline has been a long-held idea of mine. My aim is to prevent the loss of motivation across any of the narratives I've embarked on, thereby achieving a semblance of consistency that encourages me to engage in writing more often. I hold each of these tales in equal esteem, and I intend to issue new chapters whenever I find it more straightforward to articulate my thoughts.

Itachi holds a special place as one of my beloved characters within the Naruto universe. I believe his presence could inject an intriguing dynamic into the intricate world of One Piece, where injustice often thrives under the guise of a global system purportedly acting for the common good. Itachi's distinct persona will compel him to face a challenging decision, one that few may dare to confront, especially when such choices carry significant repercussions for his family.

He will take on the role of an elder sibling once more.