Disclaimer: I am NOT Oda Eichirou, I sure as hell don't own One Piece.
He died abruptly and pathetically. He remembered it as clear as a punch to the face; t'was a sunny day, he delivered the last mail on his route, then he got slammed by a speeding truck all of a sudden.
It hurts like a bitch, the worst pain that he ever felt. And he can't even move his body anymore, looks like that truck got him paralyzed. No matter, he'll bleed out soon and die anyway.
Seriously, it's not like anyone will miss him. He's just an orphan mailman with no friends and family. He doesn't even have anything to his name. All he got is his sad, miserable excuse for a life. Still, it's his nonetheless.
Well, perhaps his colleagues will be bothered by his death and his boss would have a headache; he's one of the most consistent mailman in that branch, after all.
As the light faded slowly, uncomfortably, from his vision, in a cliché kind of way, he started seeing his past. Pondering and wondering about himself, his surroundings, and his world. He seldom tasted luxury; he can't even afford a mere extra of guacamole from Chipotle.
This is why he had to work hard. No, not for that extra guac, but for those little things in life that he wanted to enjoy.
Then he remembered his love of anime and manga, the one thing that kept him truly going on with his shitty life. He remembered watching and reading those 'Big Three' that ruled the hearts of people like him. He cheered for their happiness, raged at their suffering, and cried at their sadness.
Most of all, he remembered writing his own take on those masterpieces of art as a means to practice, hoping to 'make it big' as a writer though he's not even a third-rate writer and more of a hobbyist, really.
'…Fuck, I haven't even finished reading One Piece, I hope you and that random cancer kid suffer Oda-sensei. I want to know the ending too!' he raged futilely. Yeah, his death is quite the sudden thing.
But then again, wasn't all life snuffed out uncaringly? It's simply the unquestionable fact, the absolute truth, that all who tasted life must die permanently.
At this point, he accepted his death and prepared himself to face whatever situation forced upon his passing. Be it the afterlife, limbo, hell, or some shitty void that will swallow his existence. As he finished his tirade internally, he closed his eyes and tried to embrace oblivion.
.
.
.
.
Keyword: tried.
'Shouldn't I be passing out by now?! It hurts so much! C'mon, I just wanna die already, God!'
Suddenly, a bright light engulfed his surroundings, and as he opens his eyes…
It Is Too Early To Believe
He stared dumbfoundedly at the transparent black writing in front of him, between the wreckage of the truck and his body.
'…Holy mother of fuck, i-is this real? Am I seriously getting ROB'ed?! Oh God, I want to throw up. Shit, I pissed myself.'
And so, drenched in his own puddle of blood and piss, George Kasey breathed his last.
He felt movements around him, all over his body, almost threatening to swallow him in its own way. Yet as it continues to surround him, he can sense that the 'thing' wasn't harmful. Hmm, it felt more like being submerged instead of being drowned. Not a bad sensation, to be honest.
Wet, warm, and cramped. Yet familiar.
So this is what it felt like being in a womb. The 'thing' that surrounded him must be the amniotic fluid. Whelp. Glad he remembered his biology class.
'Huh… I guess rebirth and reincarnation shit is real. Fuck, those obnoxious hippies who preached Buddhist way of life as the best thing to grace the Earth will be having a field day when they die.' he thought.
Oh, who was he kidding? He got ROB'ed… he thinks. Maybe. That floating texts cannot be induced because of his blood loss. He's not sure, but this is way better than being dead. And now comes the waiting game.
'Well, this reincarnation schtick sure is confusing. Hopefully, it's still in the same universe… I don't want to go to 40K or something. God, please no. Don't let it be Warhammer 40K...'
Blinding pain. He opened his eyes, slowly, trying to process the sudden pain encompassing his whole being. Then he saw it…
"Gem of the Border, you are hereby invited to the Baroque Works. Join us, or die a pointless death."
"…I am nothing, if not a professional."
…memories.
An apple, dark-purplish in coloring, resembling a bomb with many swirls shaped like a 'S' that rippled hypnotically. Enticing him.
That's a Devil Fruit.
Everyone who ate those fruits is granted abilities beyond comprehension, a powerful force multiplier for a man living in this unholy world. But those people are cursed by the sea forever; they cannot swim and lose all of their powers when they come into contact with the ocean.
He ate it in a heartbeat.
For a mere agent like him, this is an opportunity that he refuses to let slip from his fingers.
Finally, he'll amount to something.
Those memories kept repeating themselves.
"Mr. Five, your mission is this: eliminate Princess Nefertari Vivi of Alabasta and the captain of Royal Guard, Igaram. Don't fail."
Vivi? Alabasta? Does that mean he's in One Piece?
Grand Line
"Are you alright?" A woman's voice said, faintly. Her voice sounded so close, yet so far. The worry in her voice is easy to pick on.
"Ugh, what happened?" He asked, still feeling the numbing pain from those flashbacks. 'Wait, wasn't I in a womb? It's so weird, ugh, my head…'
"You suddenly fell and hit your head on the deck! What's going on with you!? Honestly, get a hold of yourself, Mr. Five." The woman, his partner, said crossly. She was wearing a short yellow dress in a lemon-like pattern, lemon-shaped earrings, and white high-heeled shoes. Her breathtaking face was partially covered by her blond hair, forming a bang.
Oh, she also wears a yellow and orange hat shaped like, uh, an orange…
Wait, partner? So she must be-
"Miss Valentine."
"Hm? What's wrong, Mr. Five? Why are you looking at me like that…" Miss Valentine muttered, worry etched on her beautiful face.
"Fuck, I'm really inside One Piece."
A.N: Land Ho! Got 10 chapters already written out; gonna post it here and QQ. Life happened to me.