Chapter Text
Zoro strolled into the galley, one hand on his stomach, and the other paused holding the open door as he surveyed the inside of the room. “Wow, what a mess.”
The floor of the room was lightly littered with trash, and some stranger was randomly passed out on the far couch, amidst the Straw Hat crew that was already present for breakfast. It looked like one of the Heart Pirates.
Zoro, obviously, didn’t care much for the state of the room, but an edge of his mouth quirked upwards when the resident chef’s head jerked scornfully towards him. “You are helping me clean everything up.” He pointed accusingly at Zoro’s chest, spurring the swordsman into raising his arms in acceptance.
The blonde’s finger drifted across the room, skipping over Nami and Robin, and landing on Franky, Brook, Luffy, and Jinbei. “You all, too,” he griped.
“No, maybe I shouldn’t. Here, I found a random scone on the floor from the other deck last night!” An unfamiliar hushed voice was heard, and Zoro walked further into the kitchen when Usopp and a taller guy appeared behind him at the doorway.
“Hey guys, meet my Dad, Yasopp.” Usopp held his hands out in introduction, earning responses ranging between grumbles from Franky and Brook to polite obscure salutations from Robin. There was an unhappy “We’ve met” in unison from Nami and Sanji, and a “Nice to meet you” from Chopper and Jinbei. Luffy reached over to grab the scone in Yasopp’s hand, ate it in one bite, then gave him a smile, “Yo!”
“Hi.” Yasopp scanned the table for vacancies, ultimately choosing Zoro’s empty spot by his son. Zoro took a barstool at the kitchen countertop, watching Yasopp mingle with the group from afar, but close enough to stay within the group of his Nakama.
Yasopp seemed to adjust to the group well, and Usopp seemed lighter than he had for the past few days. As the meal progressed, Nami, Sanji, Franky, and Brook seemed to lose their reservations about the old sniper’s character, and they joined in on stories Usopp was retelling.
A couple of hours passed before Shanks appeared at the doorway, his Straw Hat tucked snuggly beneath his arm. He gave Yasopp a look that told him it was time to go.
Yasopp let out a small, disappointed breath and turned to Usopp at the same time Shanks deposited his hat back on Luffy’s head.
“It’s more yours than mine, now.” Shanks ruffled the top of the hat, shaking Luffy’s head from side to side with the pressure.
Luffy pushed the rim of the hat back so he could get a better look at the pirate captain. “You sure?”
“Yeah, what’s the Straw Hat Pirates without their Straw Hat?” Shanks grinned when Luffy laughed.
The redhead turned towards the door and Yasopp followed him out, waving Usopp goodbye. “I’ll see you around, kid.” Yasopp turned away when Usopp gave him a cheerful wave, his smile ticking downwards when he fully stepped out of frame.
~ . ~ . ~
“I think I’ve finally got it.”
Yasopp raised his arms and squinted his eyes as he got into position, running through his game plan one last time as he aimed for the first target. The middle of his vision sharpened, the rest blurring and falling away until his visibility narrowed to the single target in front of him.
Slow it down. Shield, bounce it at the correct angle. Speed it up and hit the second target.
There were people watching him now, pausing their daily activities on the deck to look between the small bullseyes strung up on various spots around the sails of the ship.
Plant your feet. Brace your arms and breathe in…
And… BANG! -shk.
The bullet had shot out of the gun, planting itself just off center of the second target a millisecond later.
“shk?” Beckman mimicked the second sound with confusion, and Yasopp lowered his gun with a similar expression of bewilderment. “Is it supposed to sound metallic?”
“Take the target down!” He called to someone farther on the ship, and the bullseye was soon lowered down to the deck, gathering a crowd of interested pirates. Yasopp pushed some of them out of the way as he made his way to the wooden object.
He picked it up and rubbed his finger on the pair of twin holes in the middle of the bullseye, his own bullet having been pushed off-center by the one that was already there.
Beckman pointed at the central bullet. “Look at the angle of it. It would have come-”
“-From the Thousand Sunny.” Yasopp interrupted, his head turning towards the direction where the ship had disappeared from the horizon only a couple hours ago.