Life aboard the Moby Dick was anything but ordinary, especially for the young ones. For Siren, it quickly became home - a vast, floating world of adventure, camaraderie, and growing bonds. But above all, it was Marco who became her anchor, her confidant, and her closest friend.
From the moment she stepped onto the ship, Marco had been there, guiding her through the maze of life at sea. He explained what tools were for, what tasks needed doing, and what it truly meant to be part of Whitebeard's crew. He teased her at first for her naivety, but it was always lighthearted. In return, Siren admired Marco's quiet wisdom and unshakable calmness, even at such a young age.
"You're like an old man in a kid's body," she once quipped, crossing her arms with a smirk.
"And you're like a fish out of water," Marco shot back, grinning. "But I'll teach you. Someone has to."
Siren learned quickly, but not without mishaps. Whether it was tying knots that came undone or mixing up cleaning supplies, Marco was there to help her fix it. Over time, they became inseparable-a team. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind.
...
Two years aboard the Moby Dick were filled with countless adventures, some as grand as exploring lush, uncharted islands, and others as simple as sneaking extra desserts from the galley. Thatch, a fellow troublemaker, became their willing accomplice. Together, they made a trio of mischief.
One particularly memorable prank involved filling Vista's meticulously polished sword scabbard with syrup. Vista, known for his stern demeanor, was less than amused when he tried to draw his sword in the middle of a training session.
"MARCO! SIREN! THATCH!" Vista's roar echoed across the deck, followed by his thunderous footsteps.
The three of them hid behind a pile of crates, barely suppressing their giggles as Vista stormed past, muttering curses.
"You're going to get us caught!" Marco hissed, though he couldn't keep the grin off his face.
"It's worth it," Siren whispered back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Even Jozu and Trust weren't safe from their antics. They once swapped Jozu's training weights with lighter ones and watched as he grew increasingly frustrated, unable to understand why his workout felt too easy. When he finally caught on, Jozu chased the culprits around the deck, laughing despite himself.
Despite the pranks and laughter, life on the Moby Dick wasn't all play. Whitebeard's crew took their training seriously, and so did the young ones. Every day, Marco and Siren practiced their skills, honing their Devil Fruit abilities and physical strength.
Marco's flames were a thing of beauty, and Siren often watched in awe as he controlled them with precision beyond his years. In return, Marco encouraged Siren to explore the potential of her Life-Life Fruit, helping her find ways to sense the vitality around her and even begin healing minor injuries.
One afternoon, while sitting on the edge of the deck, Siren sighed. "I don't think I'll ever be as strong as you, Marco."
He gave her a sideways glance, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You're already strong in your own way. You just don't see it yet. Besides," he added, looking out at the horizon, "you've got something even I don't."
"What's that?"
"Heart," he said simply. "You care about everyone, even when they don't deserve it. That's a strength, Siren."
His words stayed with her, a quiet reminder that strength came in many forms.
...
As they sailed from island to island, the two grew closer, their bond deepening with every adventure. Marco trusted Siren implicitly, and she trusted him just the same. They had each other's backs, whether it was during a sparring session, a stormy night, or a prank gone wrong.
One night, as they lay on the deck looking up at the stars, Siren turned to Marco. "Do you think we'll ever leave this ship? You know, go our own ways?"
Marco shrugged, his gaze fixed on the sky. "Maybe someday. But not yet. There's too much to learn, too much to do. Besides," he added with a small smile, "you'd get lost without me."
Siren laughed, nudging him playfully. "As if! You'd miss me."
"Maybe," Marco admitted, his tone light but sincere. "But you're stuck with me for now."
...
For two years, Siren and Marco grew side by side, their friendship becoming a foundation for the lives they were building aboard the Moby Dick. They laughed together, trained together, and faced every challenge as a team.
Siren admired Marco's calm strength and leadership, while Marco found inspiration in Siren's compassion and determination. Together, they became more than friends-they became family, bound by the sea, their shared adventures, and the unbreakable trust they had in each other.
Though they were still young, the seeds of a lifelong bond were planted, destined to grow stronger with time.
...
The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the latest lush island. The crew of the Moby Dick had been busy unloading supplies, cataloging resources, and preparing for their next voyage. Trust, ever serious and watchful, had been assigned to keep an eye on the younger crew members, particularly Marco and Siren.
"Stay within sight," Trust barked, his sharp eyes fixed on the two.
Siren exchanged a look with Marco. Mischief sparkled in her green eyes. "He's worse than Vista," she whispered.
Marco smirked. "He won't notice if we slip away."
"Are you sure?" Siren asked, glancing over her shoulder.
Marco nodded. "Thatch is busy with supplies, Vista's guarding the ship, and Trust? He's no fun. Come on, let's go!"
The two darted into the underbrush, giggling as they evaded Trust's sharp gaze. He shouted after them, but they were too quick.
"You're going to regret this!" his voice echoed, but it only made them laugh harder.
...
The forest was alive with sounds-birds chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze. Marco led the way confidently, pushing through the thick foliage. Siren followed closely, her senses reaching out to the life around them.
"This place is amazing," Marco said, grinning. "No stuffy lectures, no chores. Just us."
Siren smiled, but a creeping unease settled in her chest. She focused her abilities, trying to get a feel for the area, but found strange voids where her senses faltered.
"Marco, don't you think it's too quiet here? I can't sense anything in certain spots - like nothing at all."
Marco shrugged. "It's probably just a weird island. You're always sensing something. Take a break for once."
Siren hesitated but eventually nodded. Maybe he was right. Maybe she just needed to relax.
The world around them changed in an instant. A net shot out of the ground, ensnaring them both. Siren screamed as the coarse ropes bit into her soft skin, and Marco thrashed, flames erupting from his hands.
"Let go!" Marco shouted, his flames burning through part of the net. But before he could free them, a figure emerged from the shadows, swinging a Sea-Prism Stone club.
The sickening crack of the club hitting Marco's ribs echoed through the forest. His flames died instantly, and he collapsed, gasping for air.
"Marco!" Siren shrieked, struggling harder against the net.
Another figure grabbed her, forcing her to the ground. "Quiet, girl. You'll fetch a good price on Sabaody."
Marco groaned and tried to rise, but the slaver struck him again, this time across the head. The sound was horrifying-a dull, wet thud. His body slumped, barely moving.
"Don't hurt him!" Siren cried, tears streaming down her face. "Please, stop!"
The slaver sneered. "Shut up. He'll live long enough to be sold."
...
The slavers' ship was a bleak, oppressive vessel. Siren and Marco were thrown into a Sea-Prism Stone cage below deck, the air thick with the stench of salt and sweat. Siren crawled to Marco's side, her hands trembling as she touched his bloodied face.
"Marco," she whispered. "Wake up. Please."
He groaned faintly, his breath shallow and uneven. His skin was pale, and his lips had a bluish tinge. "Siren..." he murmured weakly.
"It's okay," she said, her voice breaking. "The crew will come for us. They'll find us. They have to."
But as hours turned into what felt like days, hope began to wane. Siren felt the oppressive weight of time and the Sea-Prism Stone cuffs that muted her powers. She couldn't sense anything beyond the cold metal walls-not the life outside, not the malice of the slavers, not even the faintest flicker of hope.
...
Back on the Moby Dick, Trust was pacing the deck. "They've been gone too long," he said, his tone grim.
"They wouldn't have gone far," Vista said, though doubt crept into his voice.
Whitebeard's massive presence loomed as he sat in his chair. "We've heard of slavers in these waters. If they've been taken..." His voice trailed off, but the weight of his words hung heavy.
"Start searching," Whitebeard ordered. "We don't leave our own behind."
When a slavers' ship was eventually spotted, the Moby Dick roared to life.
...
The slavers were caught completely off guard. The Moby Dick's cannons tore through their defenses, and the crew stormed aboard with fury. Below deck, Siren and Marco huddled together as the ship shook violently.
"They're here," Siren whispered, hope surging in her chest.
Marco stirred weakly, his eyes fluttering open. "About time," he mumbled, his voice griwinf ever fainter.
When the cell door burst open, Vista was the first to step inside. His sword dripped with blood, and his expression softened when he saw them.
"We've got you," he said, relief evident in his voice.
Vista picked up Marco and carried him cradled in his arms as they made their way back to the Moby Dick. Siren trailed behind them, her legs shaking with exhaustion and fear.
Marco's body was frighteningly limp, his head lolling against Vista's chest. Blood soaked through his shirt, staining Vista's coat.
"Stay with me, kid," Vista murmured, his voice low but urgent.
The walk back to the ship felt agonizingly long. Each step seemed heavier than the last as Marco's breathing grew shallower.
When they finally reached the Moby Dick, the nurses rushed forward, their faces pale with worry. Even Whitebeard leaned forward in his chair, his expression tense.
"Get him stabilized," Whitebeard commanded, his voice gruff but laced with concern.
Marco lay motionless on the deck, his breaths faint and uneven. Siren knelt beside him, her hands trembling as tears streamed down her face.
"He's not waking up," she said, her voice breaking. "Why isn't he waking up?"
"He's hurt bad," Vista said, his tone grim.
"No," Siren said, shaking her head. "He can't die. He just can't."
Desperation surged through her as she placed her hands on Marco's chest. Her powers flared to life in a golden glow, flooding his body with healing energy, enery of her Life-Life fruit. But as the light grew brighter, Siren felt her own strength fading.
Her limbs grew heavy, her vision suddenly blurred. She felt herself... shrinking inside, her body changing. Her body slumped to the deck, lying beside Marco, curling to his side.
When the light finally faded, Marco gasped, his eyes flying open. "Siren?" he croaked. His hand instinctively reached for hers.
"I'm here," she said softly, her voice weak but changed.
Marco sat up, his hand going to his head. But when he looked at her, his eyes widened. "What happened to you?"
Siren looked down at herself. Her body had aged, now that of a twelve-year-old. Her strength was gone, given to him.
Whitebeard approached, his massive hand resting on her shoulder. "Your power has a price," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You give of yourself when you heal. Your strength, your years - they're the cost."
Tears welled in Marco's eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry you had to do this."
Siren reached out, embracing him. "It was worth it," she said softly. "You're worth it."
Around them, the crew stood in silence, the weight of the moment heavy on their shoulders. Siren had paid a terrible price, but she had saved her friend. And as Marco held her, he vowed silently to never let her make such a sacrifice again.