Somewhere in the East Blue, the village of Briseway continued its peaceful days. A place that many travelers would dismiss as unimportant, with its sleepy streets and unassuming houses. The only feature that set it apart was the massive flag of the Whitebeard Pirates fluttering proudly at the entrance to the island, its purpose was to a shield protecting it from the dangers of the seas. Without that flag, it would seem like any other quiet village.

Fishermen were already preparing their nets as the first light of dawn shimmered across the tranquil waters. An elderly man, his face wrinkled with the weight of years spent at sea, laughed heartily as he pulled in his first catch of the day.

"Another fine morning, eh?" the man called to a nearby young fisherman, his weathered hands tightening around the net. "The sea's been good to us since the Whitebeard Pirates placed their banner here. No pirates dare set foot."

"Aye, it's been years," the younger man replied with a grin. "Lucky for us, then."

Near the village market, merchants set up their stalls, offering fresh fruit, smoked fish, and handmade trinkets. A group of children raced through the dusty streets, their shrill laughter carrying in the air as they played a game of tag.

"One day, I wanna be a pirate!" shouted one of the boys, swinging an imaginary sword.

"You idiot!" his friend scoffed, shaking his head. "You'd be caught by the Navy in no time!"

At the local tavern, a burly bartender polished a mug as he looked out the window toward the Whitebeard flag. His brow furrowed slightly, as if sensing something was amiss.

"We've had peace for years... but peace never lasts forever," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a quiet foreboding.

The village elder sat on the porch of his home, looking out over the town with a gaze full of wisdom and weariness. He let out a sigh, muttering to himself, "Briseway is safe... for now. But peace doesn't always last. The winds are shifting."

Meanwhile, in the village square, a young man with blond hair, around 17 or 18 years old, sat lazily in a wooden chair, sipping coconut water. He seemed unbothered by the hustle and bustle around him, his eyes casually scanning the market.

His name was Reo D. Vance, a man with dreams far larger than the tranquil village he called home. Long ago his village's water had been stolen by pirates leaving them drier than a desert. That changed when a Yonko visited the island and returned the water and announced the protection of the island under his name. Since then, Reo and his friends grew up admiring the man and dreamed of becoming pirates themselves. He ate the Jūsu-Jūsu no Mi, The pulp fruit. A logia that allowed the user to become a vitamin man and never dehydrate agan. He took another long sip, his thoughts drifting toward the ocean.

"Today is the day…" Reo muttered under his breath.

At the nearby stall, a woman with bright red hair, hunched over a wooden table, was sewing something. It was a white pirate hat, the kind that was worn by the most daring and infamous pirates.

Reo glanced at her, a faint smile on his face. "Still making that hat, huh?" he called out, leaning back in his chair. "Really testing my patience there, Ma'am. I've been here for over 10 minutes already, you know?"

The woman looked up, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. "Of course. I can't just make a half-assed product and give it to my big boy now, can i? ?" She grinned. "What about yo? Are you REALLY sure you want to be a pirate?" ?"

Reo chuckled softly, his fingers absently tracing the edge of his coconut cup. "Of course I do. I already told you. I got big plans for the future. "

Her smile softened. "You're not the only one who thinks that way, you know. But it takes more than just dreams."

Reo's gaze hardened, a fierce determination in his eyes. "I know. But I'll get there, no matter what it takes. I won't just be some nobody… I'll be a pirate worth remembering."

The woman nodded, her fingers deftly stitching the fabric. "Then you'll need this," she said with a wink, holding up the nearly finished white pirate hat. "You'll make it, Reo."

The pirate hat was a simple yet distinct piece. Crafted from sturdy white fabric, it had a broad brim that curved slightly upward, reminiscent of the classic pirate aesthetic. The stitching was impeccable, the threads shimmering with a golden hue that made the hat look almost regal. A black ribbon adorned the base, tied into a neat bow at the back. The finishing touch was a small silver charm attached to the ribbon.

Reo grinned, standing up from his chair. "Today's the day, then." He looked up at the horizon, the sun just beginning to rise over the sea. "Time to set sail."

With the hat now finished and his dreams within reach, Reo felt ready to leave Briseway behind. The village had been his home, but the world was calling him. Today was the day he would step into the unknown, in search of adventure, strength, and the legacy of Whitebeard.

Before he could leave, however, Reo had one last thing to do. He decided to gather his friends, one by one, and the first on his list was Flare, his loyal red fox. Flare wasn't just any ordinary animal. He had eaten the Chikara Chikara no Mi, the Muscle-Muscle Fruit, and despite being a fox, he was an absolute powerhouse. His sleek, fiery-red fur had a subtle, almost shimmering, sheen that seemed to ripple with energy whenever he moved.

Reo smiled as he approached the small wooden shack on the edge of the village. The fox was lounging in the sun, lazily licking his paw.

"Flare, time to wake up," Reo called out as he knelt beside his friend. "We're leaving today."

The fox's ears perked up, and he quickly rose to his feet, his body rippling with muscles that seemed almost too big for his small frame. His strong limbs flexed with ease, and he bounded over to Reo with an excited bark.

"About time you got here," Reo said, ruffling the fox's fur. "You ready to go? We'll be out at sea, and I'll need you with me. You're strong enough to take care of yourself, right?"

Flare let out a series of energetic barks, which Reo took as confirmation. He was sure the fox would be more than capable. Despite his playful demeanor, Flare had a strength that surprised everyone who met him. His newfound power from the Muscle-Muscle Fruit made him a force to be reckoned with.

Reo grinned. "Good. Now let's get you ready for the adventure ahead."

Reo, now with Flare by his side, made his way back home—a small wooden house on the outskirts of Briseway. It wasn't much, but it had been his home for as long as he could remember. Unlike most of the villagers, he had no family. No parents to scold him, no siblings to play with. Just him and Flare, surviving together.

As he stepped inside, the scent of salt and wood filled the air. It was a simple place: a hammock hanging in the corner, a few crates stacked up against the walls, and a small shelf filled with bottles of tropical fruit drinks—his personal stash. He grinned as he grabbed a few, tucking them into his bag. He didn't need much else.

Then, he paused. His eyes drifted across the room, taking it all in with a nostalgic smile.

"We've been through a lot here, haven't we?" he muttered, glancing down at Flare.

The fox let out a small bark, as if agreeing.

Reo chuckled as memories flooded back—

One time, a storm had broken through the roof, flooding the entire house. Reo had woken up floating on his hammock like a boat while Flare, somehow, had perched himself on top of a floating crate, completely dry.

"You just had to keep your tail dry, huh?" Reo laughed, shaking his head.

Another time, Flare had eaten all of Reo's food while he was out training. Reo had returned, stomach growling, only to find Flare sitting there with the guiltiest look on his face and a pile of empty plates behind him.

"You're lucky you're cute, you little thief," Reo had grumbled at the time, before tossing him a coconut to chew on.

And then there was the day Flare first awakened his Devil Fruit powers. Reo had nearly fainted when his tiny fox suddenly bulked up into a muscle-bound beast, flexing like a bodybuilder in the mirror.

"Yeah, that one still freaks me out," Reo said aloud, rubbing his chin.

Flare huffed, puffing up his chest proudly.

Reo let out a long sigh and looked around one last time. This place had been his home. His whole world. But it was time to leave it behind.

He gave Flare a pat on the head. "Alright, let's go. Time to get the others."

With that, he stepped out of the house, the warm island breeze brushing against his face. His adventure was finally beginning.

Before leaving for good, Reo made one last stop at the village market to grab some ice. With a small bag of it slung over his shoulder, he and Flare made their way toward a house right next to his own.

"Alright," Reo said with a grin, "let's go get Saya."

Flare's ears twitched suddenly, picking up a faint sound from inside the house. His sharp animal senses detected a voice—soft, rhythmic, and full of energy.

"Huh? What is it, pal?" Reo asked, raising a brow.

Flare made a few exaggerated gestures with his paws, mimicking the act of swaying.

Reo's smirk widened. "Oh. I see. If that's the case… Let's give her a warm surprise."

The two approached the house carefully, almost sneaking in. The wooden sliding door was slightly open, letting them peek inside. The interior was filled with Japanese-style decorations—hanging scrolls, shuriken displays, and even a pair of wooden swords mounted on the wall. The faint scent of ink and fabric dye lingered in the air.

In the living room, Saya—one of Reo's closest friends and future crewmates—was completely absorbed in her task. She was painting a jolly roger flag with bold, black strokes, adding a playful flair to its design. The skull had a mischievous grin, and behind it were crossed kunai instead of bones.

the girl was wearing a cropped black tank top with a red sash tied around her waist.

Loose dark blue pants that reach her ankles, secured by a simple rope belt.

Fingerless gloves and traditional wooden sandals.

Her hair usually tied into a messy ponytail.

As she worked, she hummed a tune, her voice light and energetic. Then, without realizing it, she started singing aloud and swaying her hips to the rhythm.

" Nin-nin~ Off to the sea we go! Sneaky like shadows, strong like a storm! Nin-nin~ My crew and I, we're never slow! One step ahead, we'll break the norm! "

Reo bit his lip to stifle a laugh. "Still obsessed with the ninja act, huh?" he whispered to Flare.

The fox nodded, watching as Saya dramatically spun her paintbrush like it was a kunai before dipping it back into the ink.

Reo motioned for Flare to follow his lead. It was time for a little surprise attack.

Reo and Flare, both wearing identical mischievous grins, prepared for their grand ambush. This was no small prank—it had to be bold, unexpected, and absolutely ridiculous.

They were fighters of chaos, warriors of nonsense, and masters of mayhem.

Slowly, inch by inch, they crept up behind Saya, moving like true shinobi—though in reality, their grins and barely-contained chuckles ruined any real stealth. Reo was practically holding his breath, and Flare's tail twitched with anticipation.

They got closer… and closer…

Then, right behind her—Reo leaned in and whispered, "Sup."

The effect was instantaneous.

Saya froze. Her entire body locked up, her brush slipping from her fingers. Her soul visibly left her body, rising into the air like a ghost as her face turned completely pale.

For a second, she looked like a lifeless husk.

Then—

"GYAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

She shot straight up like she had been struck by lightning, her whole body jerking so hard she nearly flipped the table.

Reo and Flare burst out laughing, doubling over at the sight of their wannabe kunoichi friend completely losing her cool.

Saya, now blushing a deep pink, whipped around with her fists clenched. "I-I wasn't scared!" she declared, puffing out her cheeks. "That was just… um… a test of my reflexes! Yeah, I totally sensed you guys coming!"

Reo wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh really?" he said, smirking. "Then why'd you jump like that?"

Saya crossed her arms, still flustered, and stammered, "I-It was a fluke! A… a washing fluke!"

Reo raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

"A washing fluke!" she repeated, standing tall as if that explanation made perfect sense. It was one of her signature excuses, a phrase she used whenever she got embarrassed.

Reo chuckled. "Right. And what about turning completely white? What was that?"

Saya froze again. Her mind scrambled for an excuse. Think, Saya, think!

After a few awkward seconds, she dramatically held a hand to her forehead and sighed. "Oh, well, you see… It's… uh… a chronic illness!"

Reo and Flare blinked.

"A chronic illness?" Reo echoed, unconvinced.

"Y-Yeah! You've just… never heard of it!" Saya stammered, waving her arms. "It's called… uh… 'Sudden Ghost Face Syndrome!'"

Reo burst into laughter again. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

Saya huffed, crossing her arms. "Well, it's real! And I totally wasn't scared! Not even a little bit!"

Flare let out a small snicker, clearly not buying it.

Reo clapped her on the back. "Well, 'Ninja Master,' it's time to go. We're leaving today."

Saya blinked, her blush fading. Then, a huge grin spread across her face. "Wait… really?! Today's the day?!"

Reo nodded. "Yep. You still in?"

Saya's eyes sparkled with excitement. "OF COURSE I'M IN! Just gimme a sec—I need my ninja gear!"

As she rushed off to gather her things, Reo and Flare exchanged a smirk.

Reo turned his attention to the jolly roger Saya had been painting. His expression slowly shifted from curiosity to mild disbelief. The flag was undeniably ninja-centric—almost too ninja-centric.

The skull in the center had a ninja headband, its eye sockets shaped like shuriken. Behind it were two crossed kunai instead of bones, and to top it off, the entire background had a faint cloud-like mist effect, making it look like it was disappearing into the shadows.

Reo sighed. "Saya… this doesn't represent the crew at all."

Flare nodded in agreement, squinting at the flag as if trying to figure out where he fit into this supposed design.

"Alright, done!" Saya's voice rang out from her room.

The door slid open with a dramatic woosh, and out she stepped—not in her usual casual wear, but fully decked out in kunoichi gear.

Composed of a A tight-fitting black bodysuit, designed for maximum flexibility.

A red scarf draped around her neck, flowing behind her for extra flair.

Arm guards with hidden throwing knives strapped underneath.

A utility belt loaded with various small tools—smoke bombs, caltrops, and even a grappling hook.

A forehead protector with a fake emblem she made up to look more official.

Her hair now tied into a neat, high ponytail, emphasizing her kunoichi aesthetic.

She struck a bold stance, raising one hand dramatically. "Feast your eyes, for the great ninja, Say— OWW!!"

With perfect (un)timing, her raised hand slammed against the upper frame of the door, making a loud THUD.

For a moment, she froze. Her eye twitched.

Then, with the composure of a true ninja (or at least a wannabe), she slowly lowered her hand as if she had meant to do that all along. "Ahem… as I was saying, feast your eyes!"

Reo and Flare looked at each other.

Without missing a beat, they both pulled out white plates, as if they were show jurors at a competition.

Reo held up a "7.5" with a straight face.

Flare, wagging his tail, gave her a generous "8.0".

They then flipped the plates over, revealing handwritten critiques:

"Good execution, bad planning."

"Lost points for door collision."

"Recovery attempt was solid."

Saya's eye twitched again. "Oh, come on!" she huffed, crossing her arms. "That was at least a 9!"

Reo smirked. "If you want a 9, don't get beat up by a door."

Saya groaned. "I meant to do that!"

Reo and Flare shared a knowing look.

"Right," Reo said, smirking. "Just like how you totally weren't scared earlier?"

Saya blushed. "THAT WAS A WASHING FLUKE!"

Reo laughed. "Yeah, yeah. C'mon, we gotta go. Time to get the last crew member."

Saya's pout quickly faded, replaced by an eager grin. She slung her pack over her shoulder. "Right! Let's do this!"

As the three strolled through the village, Flare trotted alongside them, proudly carrying Saya's ninja-themed jolly roger in his mouth. The flag fluttered slightly in the breeze, its design just as ninja-centric as before.

Saya folded her arms behind her head, smirking. "I know what you're gonna say. Pretty cool, right?"

Reo shot her a deadpan look. "Oh yeah. Totally. I especially love the part where none of our elements are present at all." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Saya huffed. "Oh, shuush it. It's got the most important crew member in it—ME! The first commander!"

Reo stopped mid-step and turned to her. "First of all, no one says 'shuush it.' That's not a thing."

Saya narrowed her eyes. "Well, it should be."

"And second," Reo continued, ignoring her, "we already agreed that Flare is the first commander."

Flare, still carrying the flag, perked up his ears and let out a smug "Hmph!", clearly pleased with his title.

Saya gasped, placing a dramatic hand on her chest. "You're giving it to Flare over me?!"

"Well, yeah," Reo said. "He's been with me the longest, he's the strongest, and he doesn't paint self-centered jolly rogers."

Flare let out a low, approving growl.

Saya pouted. "Oh, come on! What can he do that I can't?!"

At that moment, Flare flexed his front legs, his muscles bulging from the Chikara Chikara no Mi's power. His entire body buffed up in an instant, turning him into a literal muscle fox.

Saya's cocky stance wavered. something rare. "...Okay, fair point."

Flare let out a proud snort, strutting ahead like a true first commander.

Reo chuckled. "Glad we're all in agreement."

Saya groaned, rubbing her temples. "Fine, fine. I'll let Flare have his little moment. But I'm still keeping my title as the crew's official ninja!"

"Sure," Reo smirked. "You can be the ninja. Just don't get beaten by any more doors along the way."

Saya scowled. "That was a fluke!"

Reo and Flare both laughed.

...

...

...

"Wait, hold up—can I say goodbye to my aunt?" Saya asked, her usual playful tone dipping into something a little more sincere.

Reo glanced at her and nodded. "Captain's permission granted."

Saya smirked. "Oh? Captain now, huh?"

Reo shrugged. "Gotta start acting like one sometime."

Flare barked in agreement.

"Alright! I'll be quick!" Saya said before dashing off toward her aunt's house.

Meanwhile, Reo and Flare stopped by a small village shop, deciding to wait for her there. The shop had a tropical feel—woven straw decorations, wooden shelves stocked with fresh fruit, dried meats, and handcrafted goods. The scent of citrus and spices filled the air.

Reo casually leaned against the counter, glancing at some bottled mango juice on display. "Might as well stock up before we leave," he muttered.

Saya sprinted through the familiar village streets, her kunoichi gear light and flexible against her movements. The dirt paths, the scent of the sea in the air, the voices of villagers calling out to one another—she had lived here her entire life.

But after today? She wouldn't be coming back.

Her aunt's house was a simple but well-kept home, with a traditional wooden porch and a small garden out front. Paper lanterns hung under the eaves, swaying gently in the breeze. The door was slightly open, letting the smell of freshly brewed tea drift outside.

Saya took a deep breath before stepping in.

Inside, her aunt—a woman in her late 40s with dark tied-up hair and soft yet sharp eyes—was sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. She didn't even look up as she said,

"I figured you'd come."

Saya blinked. "Huh? How'd you—"

Her aunt took a slow sip of tea. "Because I know you, Saya. You've been talking about adventure since the moment you could walk. It was only a matter of time."

Saya hesitated before stepping forward. "So… you're not mad?"

Her aunt finally looked at her, a small smirk on her lips. "Mad? No. Annoyed? Absolutely. I was hoping you'd at least have the decency to tell me before running off to be a pirate."

Saya chuckled nervously. "Eheh… surprise?"

Her aunt rolled her eyes but gestured for her to sit. Saya quickly did, fidgeting with the edge of her scarf.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, her aunt sighed.

"Look… I always knew you weren't meant for a quiet life," she admitted, setting her cup down. "I raised you the best I could, but you were always looking at the horizon, never the ground beneath your feet."

Saya swallowed, suddenly feeling a lump in her throat. She had always been so excited to leave, to chase adventure—but now, sitting here, the weight of it finally hit her.

Her aunt gave her a knowing look. "Second thoughts?"

Saya shook her head quickly. "No! Of course not! I mean… this is what I want. I just…"

Her aunt sighed again but with a softer expression this time. "Saya… I won't stop you. But promise me two things."

Saya sat up straighter. "Anything!"

Her aunt held up one finger. "First—stay alive. I don't care what kind of ridiculous trouble you get into, just come back in one piece."

Saya grinned. "Pfft, easy! I'll be the strongest kunoichi on the sea!"

Her aunt raised a second finger. "Second—don't forget where you came from."

Saya's grin faltered for just a second, but then she nodded firmly.

Her aunt studied her for a moment before reaching behind her chair. She pulled out a small wooden box and slid it across the table.

Saya tilted her head. "What's this?"

"A little something for the road," her aunt said, standing up. "Open it when you're on the ship."

Saya blinked in surprise but carefully tucked the box into her bag. She stood, adjusting her scarf.

"Well… guess this is it," she muttered.

Her aunt crossed her arms. "Looks like it."

Saya hesitated, then suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around her aunt in a tight hug.

Her aunt froze for a split second before sighing and patting Saya's head. "Go on, before I change my mind and lock you in the house."

Saya pulled away with a big grin. "Heh. Like you could catch me."

Her aunt smirked. "Try me, ninja girl."

Saya laughed before dashing out the door, her heart both light and heavy at the same time.

Reo absentmindedly scanned the fruit stand, his eyes widening at the prices.

"Wait… hold on," he muttered. "Why is everything so cheap?"

He leaned closer and saw a small wooden sign next to the stacked pineapples.

"Tropical Harvest Promotion! Stock Up While It Lasts!"

Reo smirked. "Well, can't complain about that."

He turned to Flare. "Alright, you know the drill."

Flare nodded, setting the jolly roger down and sniffing the fruits one by one. This was a routine they had developed over the years—Reo would pick up fruits, and Flare would use his sharp senses to determine which ones were the freshest.

Reo held up a mango. "What about this one?"

Flare sniffed it, then scrunched his nose and shook his head.

"Yeah, I thought so," Reo muttered, putting it back.

He reached for a coconut, but before he could get Flare's approval, a new voice cut through the market air.

"Oi, oi! Touch that coconut, and I'll personally see to it that your diet is ruined for a week."

Reo blinked in confusion before turning to see a round, chubby guy with glasses, standing with his arms crossed. He was Short, stocky, and round with rosy cheeks. Wears a chef's apron over a loose, comfy shirt, and always carries a small wooden spoon tucked into his belt. His hair is messy and curly, and he wears round glasses that slide down his nose when he gets too excited. His belly stuck out proudly, and he had a confident yet soft expression on his face.

This was Momo, the final member of their little crew.

Despite his obsession with balanced diets and nutrition, Momo remained stubbornly round.

Why?

No one knew.

Not even Reo, Saya, or Flare—and they had lived with him for years.

Some suspected he had superhuman digestion. Others believed he had a secret midnight snack habit.

But in truth?

Momo himself had no clue.

Reo sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Momo, I'm just buying fruit."

Momo adjusted his glasses. "Uh-huh. And do you even know how much sugar is in that coconut?"

Reo frowned. "It's… healthy sugar?"

Momo gasped dramatically. "Healthy sugar?! Oh, Reo. Sweet, clueless Reo. You're lucky I exist."

Reo rolled his eyes and muttered, "Here we go…"

Momo strode forward, taking the coconut from Reo's hand and spinning it in his palm like a professional food judge.

"Now," Momo said, clearing his throat, "this coconut right here is decent. Not the best, not the worst. Hydrating, sure. But where's your fiber? Where's your protein? Your good fats? Reo, you're an athlete! You need balance!"

Reo groaned. "I just want juice, Momo."

Momo looked like he had been personally betrayed. "Juice?! Juice alone isn't a meal! You need—"

Flare let out a small whimper, nudging Momo's belly with his nose.

Momo sighed. "Yes, yes, I know, Flare. I'm getting carried away."

Flare barked approvingly.

Momo turned back to Reo, arms crossed. "Fine. But at least let me cook for the crew once we get on the ship. I won't let you two live on sugar water and vibes."

Reo smirked. "Fine. But no weird green smoothies this time."

Momo adjusted his glasses with a proud grin. "You'll thank me when we're the healthiest pirate crew in the world."

Reo chuckled. With Momo around, he knew one thing for sure.

They'd never go hungry.

"Actually," Reo said, crossing his arms, "what are you even doing here? Stocking up on food before we leave? We were just about to head to your place after Saya ran off to say goodbye to her aunt."

Momo waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, I already packed up."

Reo raised a brow. "Packed up what?"

Momo grinned, patting his belly proudly. "Snacks."

Reo sighed. "Of course."

Momo adjusted his glasses. "Hey, hey—nutritionally balanced snacks."

Reo narrowed his eyes. "Momo. I swear, if I find a single hidden candy stash on the ship…"

Momo gasped, feigning offense. "Me?! Hiding candy?! Reo, please! I'm a professional!"

Flare sniffed Momo's apron pocket. Then, with a deadpan look, he barked.

Reo stared.

Momo sweated.

"…A professional who enjoys the occasional guilty pleasure," Momo muttered, quickly shoving something deeper into his pocket.

Reo groaned. "Unbelievable."

Momo grinned and threw an arm around Reo's shoulders. "Oh, come on! You know you love me!"

Reo shook his head with a chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just go get Saya before she somehow convinces her aunt to come with us."

Flare barked in agreement, and with that, the crew was officially together.

As the three moved toward the door, a familiar voice called out to them.

"Oi, Reo!"

They turned to see Mr. Seiji, the shop owner, standing behind the wooden counter.

Mr. Seiji was a man in his late 50s, with graying hair tied into a small ponytail. He had the rough hands of a fisherman, a scar over his left eyebrow, and the wise but tired eyes of someone who had lived through many storms.

Reo and the others had known him for years. He had seen them grow up.

"So, today's the day, huh?" Mr. Seiji asked, leaning forward with a knowing look.

Reo nodded confidently. "Yeah. We're setting sail."

Mr. Seiji sighed, rubbing his chin. "Heh. I figured." Then, to their surprise, he stepped out from behind the counter and waved a hand.

"Then everything's on the house."

Reo's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Momo nearly choked on air. "E-EVERYTHING?!"

Mr. Seiji chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Just take what you need and get going."

Reo hesitated. "But—"

"I won't take no for an answer," Mr. Seiji interrupted. "I know where you're headed, Reo. The Grand Line."

At those words, the shop suddenly felt quieter.

A place known as the Pirate Graveyard.

Mr. Seiji crossed his arms. "Whitebeard's there, isn't he?"

Reo grinned. "Yeah. And I'll be the first to find the One Piece."

Mr. Seiji stared at him for a moment, then let out a small chuckle. "Tch. Cocky brat."

Reo smirked. "Not cocky. Just confident."

Momo and Flar rolled their eyes, but they were grinning too.

Without another word, they gathered their supplies and walked out of the store—without paying a single beli.

Mr. Seiji watched them go, shaking his head with a small, amused smile.

"Those kids…" he muttered.

He looked down at the counter, his fingers brushing against the symbol carved into the wood—the mark of Whitebeard's flag.

If someone had told him years ago that these were the same kids who nearly died from dehydration, he wouldn't have believed it.

But Whitebeard…

Whitebeard was truly blessed.

Even now, he could still hear that thunderous voice, the day their island's fate had changed forever.

"THIS ISLAND WILL NOW BE PROTECTED UNDER MY NAME, WHITEBEARD!!!!"

Mr. Seiji closed his eyes, feeling the weight of that oath.

"…Guess I owe you one, old man."

With one last look at the departing trio, he smiled.

"Take care, kids."

As the door swung open, Reo, Momo, and Flare stepped out, their arms full of supplies.

Waiting just outside, leaning casually against the wall with her arms crossed, was Saya.

She immediately perked up when she saw them, her sharp eyes locking onto Momo.

"Oh, you found the snack hoarder!" she said with a smirk.

Momo huffed. "Excuse you, I am a chef."

Saya grinned. "A chef who somehow still manages to be rounder than a barrel of rice."

Momo adjusted his glasses with fake dignity. "It's called retaining optimal warmth for survival."

Saya rolled her eyes. "Right. Sure. That's what we'll call it."

Reo chuckled. "Alright, now that we've got everyone, let's move. Next stop—the docks." "Oh, wait—right," Reo said, suddenly remembering. "Momo, don't you have to say goodbye to your parents?"

Momo adjusted his glasses and shrugged. "Already did. Bright and early this morning."

Reo nodded. "Huh. That was fast."

Momo smirked. "Unlike some people, I don't take three hours to say goodbye."

Saya huffed. "Excuse me?! I was being sentimental!"

Reo chuckled. "Alright, alright. Now, the only thing left to do is—"

"TO THE DOCKS!" Saya yelled, pumping her fist into the air.

And with that, the four of them bolted towards the shore.

After a few minutes of running, they finally reached the docks—where a familiar figure was waiting for them.

Tsubaki.

She stood near their ship—a fairly big boat with a mast, not quite a grand pirate vessel, but sturdy and reliable enough for a crew of three and a fox.

Despite not having parents, Tsubaki had been Reo's only parental figure.

She had raised him, trained him, and taught him how to defend himself.

Tsubaki crossed her arms, her eyes scanning the group.

"Took you long enough," she said, her voice as firm as ever.

Reo adjusted his white pirate hat, the same one Tsubaki had given him earlier.

"Had to gather the whole crew," Reo said with a grin. "Can't leave without my first commander, ninja-in-training, and our snack stash."

Momo sighed. "I'm the chef."

Saya smirked. "He said what he said."

Tsubaki shook her head with a small chuckle. "You're all idiots."

Reo grinned. "You raised me. What did you expect?"

Meanwhile, Saya and Momo were busy admiring the boat.

It wasn't flashy like a grand pirate ship, but it was solid, well-built, and large enough for their first journey.

"A bit plain," Saya noted, tilting her head.

Momo nodded. "Yeah, but it'll do. For now."

Reo smirked. "Obviously, we'll be getting something bigger eventually. Something worthy of the world's greatest pirate crew."

As the crew chatted, they failed to notice a group of villagers standing at a distance.

They held party decorations, banners, and streamers—waiting for the right moment to give the young pirates a proper send-off.

Tsubaki glanced at them, then back at Reo.

"…You ready for this?" she asked.

Reo looked at her, then at his friends, then at the vast ocean ahead.

He adjusted his hat, smirked, and said "I was born ready."

Just as Reo, Saya, Momo, and Flare hopped onto the boat, ready to push off from the dock, they were startled by a sudden eruption of voices.

"GOOD LUCK, REO!"

"STAY SAFE OUT THERE, SAYA!"

"DON'T FORGET TO EAT WELL, MOMO!"

The crew whipped around to see a huge crowd of villagers gathered near the dock.

They were waving banners, tossing confetti, and holding up hand-painted signs.

Some had prepared food baskets, others had small gifts, and a few kids were even cheering Flare's name as the fox proudly puffed out his chest.

Reo blinked in surprise. "Wait, what—"

Saya beamed. "A farewell party?! No way!"

Momo sniffled dramatically. "This is so wholesome."

Tsubaki, still standing on the dock, smirked. "What, did you think you'd sneak off without a send-off?"

Reo scratched his head, smiling. "Well… yeah, kinda."

An old man stepped forward—Mr. Seiji, the shop owner.

He crossed his arms and gave Reo a knowing look. "Brats like you never go unnoticed."

The crowd laughed.

Saya waved excitedly. "Alright! Let's give 'em a show!"

Reo grinned. He stepped onto the ship's railing, struck a confident pose, and pointed dramatically toward the sea.

"This is it! We set sail today, but mark my words—we'll return as legends!"

The crowd cheered even louder.

Flare barked proudly, waving the pirate flag in his mouth.

Momo grabbed a handful of the snacks the villagers had thrown on board and stuffed his mouth. "Best. Send-off. Ever."

Saya laughed, throwing a shuriken-shaped confetti piece into the air. "Next stop—the Grand Line!"

With one final push off from the dock, the boat slowly drifted away from the island.

The villagers kept waving, their voices carrying over the ocean breeze.

Reo adjusted his hat, feeling the weight of adventure settle in his chest.

This was it.

Their journey had officially begun.

TO BE CONTINUED...

And there we go! Hi my dear viewers, its good to be back! I am now introducing the new crew of Supernova. The one you're seeing right now. This is a Side story playing somewhat at the same time as Luffy's departure.

I created this group in order to fill in more Suggested characters (xover and not) that sadly couldn't make the cut on the main story. Hope you like it!