Chapter 2: getting Back Up

Fusha Village

For two weeks, Luffy threw himself into unrelenting training at Fusha Village. The days were long and punishing, testing his endurance, but he knew they were essential. Each sunrise became a call to action, and every sunset served as a reminder of how limited his preparation time was for the battles looming ahead. The villagers, now quiet observers, watched him from a distance. The carefree boy they once knew had transformed into a young man bearing a heavy, invisible burden.

Luffy returned to the landmarks of his childhood for his training, places that had once shaped his dreams. The cliffs where he had shouted his ambitions into the wind now echoed with his fervent attempts to regain lost strength. Forest paths that had hosted playful adventures with Ace and Sabo were repurposed as tracks for running drills and avoiding imagined attacks. What had been carefree swings of fists and kicks now became calculated, precise strikes honed by years of combat. However, his body—once conditioned for greatness—now constantly reminded him of its weakened state.

One particularly frustrating morning, as the first light painted the cliffs and sea, Luffy attempted Gear Second for the fifth time that day. Steam began to rise from his body as his blood pumped at an accelerated pace. For a fleeting moment, power coursed through him, his movements sharp and decisive. But just as quickly, his strength gave out. He crumpled to the rocky ground, the dissipating steam reflecting his struggle. Angrily, he struck the ground, scraping his knuckles against its rough surface.

"Why won't it work the way it used to?" he muttered, frustration heavy in his voice.

The forest below remained still, except for the rustling of leaves and distant birdsong. Lying back, he stared up at the sky—the same vast sky that had witnessed his many adventures. Yet now, it seemed to remind him of how far he had to go.

—

The villagers' curiosity grew as the days passed, but they kept their distance. Makino, with her quiet kindness, often left food for Luffy by a tree, careful not to intrude on his intense focus. She understood without words that he needed this solitude. Dadan, however, was less subtle. Her concern deepened as she observed Luffy pushing himself to exhaustion each day, only to rise again with the same unyielding determination in his eyes.

Luffy was painfully aware of his setbacks but refused to dwell on them. Each day, he cataloged the limits of his abilities:

Observation Haki: It was the least impaired of his skills, still allowing him to sense presences nearby. However, the sharp clarity he once had, especially glimpses of the immediate future, had dulled. It was like hearing a familiar melody muffled by distance.

Armament Haki: Once a reliable weapon, it was now almost entirely absent. The black sheen of hardened power flickered to life only briefly, draining his energy and leaving his arms trembling.

Conqueror's Haki: His most prized ability had been reduced to a shadow of its former self. What had once overwhelmed entire armies now barely managed to knock out a handful of people.

He struggled to reclaim these powers. One afternoon, in a sunlit clearing, he focused on Armament Haki, fists clenched and brow furrowed as sweat poured down his face. A faint black sheen flickered on his knuckles but vanished just as quickly. With a frustrated groan, he collapsed onto the grass.

"This is so annoying!" he yelled, his voice carrying through the trees.

Makino, who had been quietly observing while carrying a basket of fruit, paused at his outburst. Her maternal instincts urged her to comfort him, but she resisted. She knew this battle was one Luffy had to fight on his own. Instead, she continued her walk, silently cheering for his perseverance.

Despite his struggles, small victories came. After countless attempts, he briefly unlocked Gear Second again. Steam curled off his body as raw power surged through him, reigniting his determination. But the cost was immense—his body collapsed afterward, leaving him gasping for air and aching from the strain.

—

One evening, as the sun cast a warm, orange glow over the cliffs, Luffy sat cross-legged near the edge, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. The cool sea breeze brushed against his skin, but it did little to extinguish the fire burning within him. It wasn't exhaustion—it was resolve. He had to succeed; there was no alternative. His crew depended on him.

As he weighed his options, a clear choice formed in his mind: Nami. Zoro and Sanji could manage on their own, and Usopp's troubles weren't pressing—yet. But Nami? She was already trapped under Arlong's tyranny. The mere thought of her suffering again under that monster made his stomach churn with rage.

"I'll save her," he whispered to himself, clenching his fists tightly. "No matter what it takes."

—

On his final night in Fusha Village, Luffy sat beside a campfire with Dadan. The flames danced in the cool night air, casting flickering shadows across the forest clearing. Dadan, as rough and gruff as ever, sat across from him, arms crossed and eyes sharp. She had been watching over him during his training, pretending to be indifferent, but her concern was unmistakable. She'd helped raise both him and Ace, and now she could see something heavy weighing on the boy who once wore all his emotions on his sleeve.

After a long stretch of silence, she finally spoke, her voice low but firm. "Alright, brat. What's eating you up inside?"

Above them, the sky was painted in deep streaks of orange and purple, the sun's last light fading behind the mountains. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional crackle of the fire filled the air, wrapping the moment in an unexpected stillness. They were near the hideout where Luffy had spent so many of his childhood years—a place packed with memories of reckless adventures, laughter, and dreams of the wide-open sea.

Luffy stared into the fire, his expression unusually serious. The firelight reflected in his eyes, his gaze steady but distant. Explaining himself wasn't easy, even for someone as straightforward as him. After a moment, he finally said, "I'm leaving tomorrow." His voice was calm, but there was a quiet determination behind it.

Dadan snorted, leaning back and shaking her head. "Figured as much. You've been pacing around like some damn caged animal."

Though she tried to keep her tone dismissive, the truth cut deeper than she wanted to admit. She'd always known this day would come, but knowing didn't make it any easier. Beneath her tough exterior, Dadan loved Luffy like her own. The thought of him leaving—and the danger that would inevitably follow—sat heavy in her chest.

"I have to," Luffy said softly, his gaze flicking toward her for just a moment.

Dadan's hardened expression faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, her tone still gruff. "Just don't go getting yourself killed, you idiot. You're not as strong as you think you are. You've got a lot to learn."

A faint smile tugged at Luffy's lips. "I know," he admitted, his voice gentle. "But staying here isn't an option."

Dadan sighed deeply, her tough front cracking just a little. She reached out and ruffled his hair—a rare, affectionate gesture. "You're an idiot," she muttered. "But you're our idiot."

"Yeah," Luffy replied with a soft laugh. He paused, his expression growing sincere. "You know, I hate mountain bandits... but I love you guys."

That did it. The dam Dadan had been holding back finally broke. Tears spilled freely down her face as she lunged forward and wrapped Luffy in a crushing bear hug. Luffy stiffened for a moment, surprised by the outburst, but he quickly relaxed, letting the warmth of the moment wash over him.

They stayed like that for a while, the crackling of the fire mingling with Dadan's muffled sniffs as the silence stretched on. The flames began to fade, shrinking into glowing embers, but neither of them moved right away.

When the fire finally died out, Luffy rose to his feet. His expression was calm, but his resolve was unmistakable. "Thanks, Dadan," he said, his voice full of gratitude. "For everything."

Turning her back to him, Dadan waved him off with a dismissive grunt, but her trembling hand gave her away. She didn't want him to see the tears threatening to spill again. "Just go already, you brat," she muttered. Then, with a hint of begrudging pride, she added, "And make sure you come back the Pirate King."

—

The next morning, Luffy stood at the shore, a small boat waiting to carry him toward his next challenge. He turned back to Foosha Village, his childhood home, and the people who had shaped him. The villagers had gathered to bid him farewell, their faces a mix of pride and worry.

Makino approached him with a satchel of supplies, her expression tender yet emotional. "Take care of yourself, Luffy," she said softly, her voice trembling.

He gave her his signature grin, the spark of adventure shining in his eyes. "I will. I promise."

As he pushed the boat into the water, ripples spread across the surface. Suddenly, the Lord of the Coast appeared, its massive form breaking through the waves. The sea king loomed over him, its enormous eyes gleaming with recognition.

Luffy stood firm in his small boat, his gaze unwavering as he faced the beast. He had expected this encounter. The creature's roar thundered through the air, vibrating the boat beneath his feet. Waves crashed violently against the shore, spraying saltwater into the air. The golden light of the sunrise reflected off the sea, emphasizing the monster's immense size and presence.

"Take me to the Conomi Islands," Luffy demanded, his voice calm yet commanding.

The sea king responded with another deafening roar, baring rows of sharp teeth. The challenge in its cry was clear—it was testing Luffy's resolve.

Unfazed, Luffy summoned his Conqueror's Haki. A wave of invisible energy radiated from him, a manifestation of his unyielding will. The air around him seemed to shimmer with intensity, and the sea king hesitated. Its fierce gaze softened, recognizing the power in Luffy's spirit. After a tense moment, the creature lowered its massive head in submission.

Luffy exhaled in relief, the victory a testament to his enduring determination. Though his body remained weak, his spirit was as strong as ever. With a grin, he fastened a rope between his boat and the beast's back.

The sea king began to glide across the water, its muscular tail propelling them forward. As they moved farther from the shore, Luffy turned back for one last look at Foosha Village. Its familiar silhouette grew smaller with each passing moment.

A wave of bittersweet emotions swept over him—gratitude for his home and the memories it held, mixed with the undeniable pull of his destiny beyond its shores. The ocean stretched endlessly ahead, promising challenges and adventures yet to come.

Luffy clenched his fist, excitement and determination coursing through him. The wind carried his whispered vow: "I'm coming, Nami."

And so, his journey to the Conomi Islands—and the next chapter of his adventure—began.

—

Somewhere in the East Blue

Zoro trudged through the dense forest, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of civilization. The air was humid, and the sounds of rustling leaves and distant chirping surrounded him. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere, drifting to his crewmates. Each of them was likely facing their own struggles, but the gnawing urgency to reunite with them spurred him forward.

The only problem? He was hopelessly lost.

It had started innocently enough—a brief detour to collect a small reward for captured pirates. One moment, he was walking the familiar streets of a town; the next, he found himself in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. He had no idea how it happened, but now, with no clear path and dwindling patience, he needed a solution.

After hours of wandering, Zoro finally stumbled upon the island's shore. Nearby, he spotted a modest pirate ship anchored in the shallows, its crew bustling about in preparation for departure. His eyes narrowed as he sized up the situation. They didn't seem like a formidable group, but they might hold the answers he needed.

Approaching with a steady gait, Zoro placed his hand on one of his sword hilts and called out. "Hey, you!" His voice cut through the chatter, drawing the attention of a burly man who appeared to be the captain.

The man turned, his expression shifting from curiosity to alarm as he noticed the three swords at Zoro's side. "Wh-what do you want?" he stammered, instinctively stepping back.

Zoro's tone was blunt. "I'm looking for a navigator. Someone who can tell me where I am—and how to get to the Conomi Islands."

The pirate leader hesitated, his eyes darting nervously. "And why should we help you?"

Zoro's grip tightened on his sword, the gesture speaking volumes. His voice dropped to a dangerous low. "Because if you don't, I'll make you regret it."

The atmosphere grew tense as the pirate gulped and nodded hastily. "We have a navigator," he said, his voice shaky. "Let me get him."

Moments later, a young man with a map clutched in trembling hands was pushed forward. His eyes darted around nervously as he addressed Zoro. "Y-you need a navigator?"

Zoro nodded. "You're going to take me to the Conomi Islands. And you're not going to try anything stupid. Got it?"

The navigator nodded frantically, his fear evident. "Y-yes, sir. Whatever you say."

With the navigator secured, Zoro turned his attention back to the rest of the crew. "I'll be taking your ship," he declared, his voice unwavering. "And you'll follow my orders if you want to stay in one piece."

The pirates exchanged uneasy glances but offered no resistance. They knew better than to test their luck against someone of Zoro's reputation.

As the ship set sail under the midday sun, Zoro stood at the helm, his determined gaze fixed on the horizon. Though the path ahead was uncertain, he was resolute. He had a mission to complete and a crew to find.

As the ship sailed into the open sea, the navigator worked nervously, adjusting the sails and charting their course. Eventually, he mustered the courage to speak.

"Sir, may I ask why you're headed to the Conomi Islands?" he ventured, his voice trembling.

Zoro's eyes flicked toward him, cold and resolute. "There's someone there who needs help," he said simply. "And I'm not going to let them down."

The navigator nodded, sensing the weight behind Zoro's words. "Understood, sir. I'll get you there."

Leaning against the ship's railing, Zoro watched the island behind them shrink into the distance. A nagging feeling tugged at the edge of his thoughts—something about the storm that had displaced him, the golden lightning, and the inexplicable dislocation seemed connected. He couldn't piece it together, but one thing was clear: he wasn't the only one affected.

His thoughts drifted to Nami. Memories of her suffering at the hands of Arlong surfaced, filling him with anger and urgency. He couldn't shake the idea that she might be reliving those horrors now. Gritting his teeth, he vowed silently, I won't let her go through that alone.

—

Baratie

Days passed in a haze of routine for Sanji. He buried himself in work, hoping the rhythm of the kitchen would distract him. He flirted with customers, exchanged banter with his fellow chefs, and outwardly seemed like his usual self. But his mind wandered, consumed by memories of the storm and the golden lightning that had thrown his life into disarray.

Zeff, Sanji's gruff mentor, was the first to notice something was amiss. The old pirate-turned-chef had a keen eye for details, honed by years at sea and running the Baratie. It didn't take long for him to confront Sanji in the noisy, bustling kitchen.

"Oi, eggplant," Zeff growled, his voice low but firm. "What's with you lately? You've been walking around like a damned zombie."

Sanji froze mid-chop, his knife hovering over a pile of vegetables. "I'm fine, old man. Just tired, that's all."

"Don't give me that crap," Zeff retorted. "I know you better than that. Now spill it."

Sanji sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Setting the knife aside, he leaned against the counter, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Alright, old man. You win."

As the noise of the kitchen faded into the background, Sanji recounted everything—the adventures he and his crew had shared, the bonds they had forged, and the countless battles they had fought together. His words painted vivid pictures of treacherous seas, fantastical islands, and legendary clashes.

He spoke of their victories, their infamy, and their skyrocketing bounties, his voice tinged with pride. But when he described the storm that had cast him back in time, his tone shifted. There was an uncertainty in his voice, a weight borne from the fear of being alone in this twist of fate.

Zeff listened silently, his weathered face betraying no emotion as Sanji poured out his heart. Only when the younger man fell silent did Zeff speak, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"So, you've come back from the future, huh?" Zeff said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "And you don't know if the rest of your crew made it here, too."

Sanji nodded, the uncertainty gnawing at him.

Zeff placed a heavy hand on Sanji's shoulder, his grip firm yet comforting. "Then you know what you need to do."

Sanji looked up, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean?"

"You need to find your crew," Zeff said bluntly. "Sitting around here flipping steaks isn't going to help them. If they're out there, they need you. Even if you don't know where they are, you can't abandon them."

Sanji's heart swelled with gratitude for the old man's words. "But where do I start?"

Zeff smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Start with the one who's in the worst trouble. You said your navigator's dealing with that Arlong bastard, right?"

Sanji's expression hardened with resolve. "Yeah. She's probably in the thick of it."

"Then go," Zeff said firmly. "Gather supplies, plan your journey, and get your ass out there. Start with her. From the sounds of it, she's tough, but even the toughest need help sometimes."

Sanji nodded, determination radiating from him. His path was clear now. The uncertainty remained, but it was outweighed by the need to reunite with his nakama.

—

Four days later, Sanji stood at the edge of the Baratie, ready to set sail. The sun was rising, casting a warm golden glow over the floating restaurant and the endless ocean beyond. Behind him, the entire kitchen crew had gathered to see him off.

Carne struggled to maintain his usual stern demeanor, though tears betrayed his effort. Patty, on the other hand, openly sobbed, unbothered by appearances. Their heartfelt goodbyes tugged at Sanji's emotions, but he maintained his composure.

Zeff stood at the forefront, arms crossed and watching Sanji with an expression that was equal parts pride and concern. Though his posture remained gruff, there was no mistaking the glimmer of affection in his eyes.

Sanji stepped forward, facing the man who had shaped so much of who he was. "Thank you, old man," he said, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. "For everything."

The first time he'd left the Baratie, he had thanked Zeff sincerely, but now those words carried even greater weight. After the ordeal with the Vinsmokes, Sanji's gratitude had deepened—it wasn't just thanks for guidance, but for making him the man he had become.

Zeff gave a gruff nod, his expression softening for a fleeting moment. "Just make sure you come back in one piece. And bring that navigator of yours here for a proper meal."

Sanji managed a small grin, his trademark charm flickering through the seriousness of the moment. "You got it, old man. I'll bring her here, and we'll have a feast so grand it'll make the heavens weep."

Suddenly, overcome with emotion, Sanji stepped forward and hugged Zeff tightly. The old man stiffened in surprise but returned the embrace after a brief pause. Silent tears rolled down both their faces, a rare and unspoken acknowledgment of the bond they shared.

As they broke apart, Zeff ruffled Sanji's hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't go catching a cold out there, eggplant."

Sanji chuckled softly, brushing away his tears. "Take care of yourself, old man."

Turning to face the horizon, Sanji felt the weight of his decision. He was leaving behind the safety and familiarity of the Baratie for the uncertainty of the open sea. But as he looked ahead, the thought of reuniting with his nakama filled him with hope and determination.

With one last wave to his mentor and the crew, Sanji stepped onto his small boat, setting his sights on the Conomi Islands. The wind filled the sails, carrying him toward his next adventure—and the promise of finding his family once more.