Chapter Text
Roger stepped onto the deck of the Oro Jackson with the child tucked under one arm.
The captain and first mate were immediately greeted by a disorderly hum of voices. The crew watched them with curious looks, though there were fewer pirates aboard than usual. With evening setting in, some of the sailors had already disappeared ashore in search of drinks and entertainment. Even with the crew reduced, however, this was still an extraordinary sight for Roger’s pirates. Seasoned sailors who had seen just about everything in their lives paused what they were doing and stared at the gangplank.
Of course, those who had just listened to Shanks’s animated retelling of the brawl in town already knew about their unexpected guest. Still, the captain usually returned from shore with pockets stuffed with gold, a new outrageous story, or some wild idea. This time, however, his prize was furiously writhing in his arms, kicking desperately and very clearly refusing to accept her new situation.
“Put me down!” the girl shouted indignantly, pressing both palms against his powerful chest and struggling to twist herself free. “I can walk by myself!”
“You can,” Roger replied calmly, deftly shifting his grip beneath her shoulder blades when the girl nearly slipped out of his arms like a slippery fish. “But the moment I put you down, you’ll run away.”
“Of course I will!”
“Well, there you have it.”
“So you’re going to carry me around like a sack all the time now?!” she shouted irritably, lifting her chin. “Won’t your arms fall off?”
“Oh, don’t worry, little one,” Roger said with a good-natured grin, without even losing his breath. “I could carry you around forever. You’re not heavy at all.”
“NO! I don’t need your stupid concern!”
She shook her head as hard as she could, her messy hair whipping painfully against her cheeks as she tried to vent all the anger building inside her.
“I hate you! Why is all of this happening to me...?” she muttered under her breath, sniffling and trying to hide the reddening tip of her nose out of sheer indignation and frustration. How exactly that was supposed to work with her nose already being bright red was another question entirely.
Roger simply burst into booming laughter, genuinely enjoying her rebellion. Buggy narrowed her eyes angrily. She gave one more desperate tug, testing the strength of her captor’s grip, only to realize with growing irritation that escaping was currently beyond her abilities. The man was enormous, incredibly strong, and completely unaffected by her resistance. Worse, judging by the satisfied, beaming expression on his face, her desperate struggle only seemed to amuse him. That attitude struck a nerve more deeply than she cared to admit.
But what worried her far more was everything around her. Now that she was aboard, Buggy could finally appreciate the ship’s true scale. From the shore, it had merely looked big. Here, standing right on the deck, its towering masts and massive hull were enough to take her breath away. A gigantic wooden beast that smelled of saltwater, old ropes, and gunpowder. And, most importantly, it was absolutely crawling with unfamiliar, dangerous people.
Realizing the seriousness of her situation, Buggy instantly went still. There was no way she could fight her way out of this. Which meant she needed to use her head and assess the situation. She began carefully scanning the deck, memorizing every detail, every face, every tiny movement. There, slightly off to the side, stood a tall man with a thick beard and a heavy, intimidating stare. He watched the scene with cool detachment, as though things like this happened here every morning. Another pirate – a tall blond man wearing glasses – was talking to one of the sailors near the mainmast, but Buggy could feel, even with her back turned, that he was keeping track of every movement she made.
The surrounding sailors were already exchanging glances, and quiet, mocking chuckles rippled across the deck. Buggy decided to memorize every single one of their faces. Idiots. Go ahead and laugh. I’ll make all of you pay for this eventually. Then again, if they were laughing, that was actually a good thing. It meant they considered her nothing more than a harmless little girl and weren’t taking her seriously. Excellent. She could use that.
Her gaze moved farther across the deck and caught on a man whom she immediately judged to be every bit as dangerous as the two adults who had dragged her here. He barely moved, standing almost completely still like a statue. Somehow, that stillness made him even more frightening. And behind him, a massive axe gleamed ominously. Without knowing anyone’s name or rank, Buggy began mentally sorting the people into categories. Dangerous. Very dangerous. This one seems relaxed; I might be able to play on that. Need to be more careful with this one.
And, of course, among this colorful crowd, she spotted the culprit responsible for all her troubles that day. Red hair, which had been neatly combed after their scuffle in the alley. A freckled, ridiculously pleased face. And a neat bandage wrapped around his nose.
Damn that brat. They actually gave that idiot medical attention while I was dragging myself here through the dirt! And no, Buggy was absolutely not jealous. Not even a little. Why would she be jealous of some stupid idiot?
Shanks was sitting on a small wooden barrel nearby. His wound had been cleaned, the blood wiped away, and his dusty clothes straightened out, so he looked considerably less pathetic than he had a couple of hours ago. He was staring straight at Buggy. And he was grinning so smugly and shamelessly that her face twisted on its own into an expression of profound, genuine disgust.
“No,” she muttered darkly through clenched teeth.
It had been obvious enough back in town that the red-haired little scoundrel was connected to the adult pirates, but seeing proof of her conclusions with her own eyes felt like the ultimate injustice to Buggy.
Roger looked down at her, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
Buggy angrily pointed her little finger at the red-haired boy.
“He asked for it!” she muttered, trying to sound conciliatory but with obvious childish indignation, lowering her eyes and avoiding the gaze of the giant holding her. “I didn’t do anything that bad for you to drag me all the way here and take revenge on me for that idiot!”
Shanks immediately jumped to his feet, throwing his hands into the air.
“What?! Well, sorry if I hurt your feelings by laughing at you, but you ran off with my money!”
“I’m not talking to you, got it?!” Buggy snapped, momentarily forgetting her fear. “And nothing like that happened! Don’t you dare make things up, liar!”
“Is that so?” Shanks narrowed his eyes slyly and pointed toward her jacket. “Then whose money pouch is sticking out of your pocket? Mine, by any chance?”
“It’s not yours! If you let it slip away, then it’s mine! You should’ve been paying attention... oh—” Buggy abruptly cut herself off and, in surprise, slapped a hand over her mouth. Damn it! I just gave myself away!
Shanks broke into the widest, most triumphant grin imaginable. Buggy turned away in annoyance, ready to burn with shame and fury. Meanwhile, Roger carefully set her down on the wooden deck, though his heavy hand still rested firmly and instinctively on her shoulder, while his other arm remained behind her. The captain understood perfectly well that if he loosened his grip even for a second, this girl would shoot straight back toward the gangplank like a whirlwind.
“Well, boys,” Roger announced cheerfully to the suddenly quiet crew, “meet our new passenger!”
“I’m not your passenger! You dragged me here by force and against my will!” Buggy immediately snapped, trying to shrug his hand off her shoulder while simultaneously pushing herself backward against his other arm.
“All right. Our new acquaintance.”
“Not even close!”
“Well then, our new pirate crewmate!”
“Even less! Dream on!”
Several pirates finally burst out laughing at her desperate bickering with the captain. Buggy puffed up indignantly and gave them all a heavy, murderous glare.
“Now, now, little one, relax that face of yours,” Roger said with an amused chuckle, watching her nostrils flare comically. “It’s starting to hurt me just looking at that cute little face all scrunched up in displeasure. Sorry, but we’re pirates. And there’s one little peculiarity to our profession: if we like something, we take it for ourselves. So you’d better get used to it!”
“What’s your name?” Rayleigh asked calmly, narrowing his eyes slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Buggy pursed her lips and clenched her jaw.
“Come on, runt. I’m actually giving you a chance to introduce yourself,” the first mate added after a pause, tilting his head slightly.
She regarded him with deep suspicion. Then she shifted her wild, distrustful gaze to Roger. And then back to Rayleigh. In her mind, in the harsh world where she had been forced to survive every single day, a person’s name was something incredibly important, almost sacred. Give it to strangers, and it was as if you had handed them a piece of yourself. And she certainly had no intention of giving her name to a gang of pirates armed to the teeth.
“I’m not telling you anything!” the girl declared, lifting her chin proudly.
Rayleigh merely raised an eyebrow slightly. Roger, however, stared at her sullen little face for a moment before suddenly breaking into a sly grin.
“Oh, really? So you’re saying you’re not Buggy – the ‘greatest and most unbeatable swimmer in the whole wide world’?”
He drawled the words teasingly.
“What?! How did you—”
Buggy swallowed the indignant cry that was about to burst out of her. With horror, she belatedly remembered what had happened at the pier only moments ago, when her own foolish pride had led her to reveal practically everything about herself to these strangers. A wave of burning embarrassment swept over her. Her cheeks instantly erupted into a scarlet blaze. The girl froze where she stood, ready to sink through the deck from sheer mortification. She curled in on herself and buried her burning face into her shoulders.
“All right, then. In short,” Rayleigh sighed, addressing the handful of sailors present, “this girl’s name is Buggy. You’ll get to know her little by little.”
Roger let out another loud, booming laugh, thoroughly enjoying her embarrassment.
Buggy once again glanced at them furtively from beneath her brows, reluctantly, with such a sour expression that the mere act seemed like an extraordinary favor she was granting the entire crew.
Shanks, standing nearby, immediately repeated the name.
“Buggy...”
The girl whipped her head toward him as though she had been pricked with a needle.
“What’s your problem??!”
He silently rolled the name around in his mouth, savoring every sound. Then his face lit up with a truly devilish realization, and he snorted with laughter. Adjusting the bandage on his nose, the redhead gave her indignant face a mischievous squint and took a step back, looking his new acquaintance up and down.
“Wait... as in a little bugger? Ahahaha, that's literally the perfect name for you! Unless you’re just gonna go buggy on me right now?”
For a moment, a brief silence settled over the deck.
The crew, who had been barely holding back their smiles at the sight of their stunned, thoroughly exasperated new arrival, finally broke and burst into laughter at their cabin boy’s ridiculous but perfectly timed pun.
Buggy nearly started steaming from the ears. Slowly, with all the menace she could muster, she turned her entire body toward the redhead.
“What did you just say?!” she hissed through clenched teeth.
Shanks had no intention of backing down, continuing to beam at her.
“Well, what? Your name is Buggy. It’s funny!”
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU JERK?!” If Roger’s heavy hand had not been holding her shoulder in place, the girl would have lunged straight at the boy and grabbed him by his red hair with both hands.
“Have you ever looked in a mirror?! MY NAME IS PERFECTLY NORMAL! It’s the best name ever!”
Shanks merely shrugged innocently.
“Well, my name is Shanks. Though I think I already introduced myself.” He flashed her his widest, all-thirty-two-teeth grin.
“I DON’T CARE!” she shrieked. “I don’t need your stupid name! You can take it back!”
“Oh, come on, don’t get so worked up. I was just joking!”
“Then shut your mouth and don’t say another word! Not one!” Buggy roared, pushed well past the limits of her patience.
Roger burst into thunderous laughter at their argument, and the pirates standing around them finally abandoned all attempts at seriousness and dissolved into loud, rolling laughter.
Buggy whipped around toward them, fists clenched.
“What are YOU laughing at?!”
“Nothing, nothing,” replied the tall man who had initially seemed the most frightening, the one with the axe. He merely shifted his dark glasses slightly and did his best to maintain some semblance of composure on his stern face.
“You’re laughing at me!”
“Just a little,” he admitted with a faint smirk.
“Oh, very funny. Hilarious. I might as well drown myself!”
Buggy crossed her arms over her chest in genuine offense and pointedly turned her back on the entire laughing crew. Shanks was still smiling, his eyes fixed on her.
For some reason, he absolutely loved the way she could flare up so easily and so vividly at the slightest word. He could not even properly explain why it made him so happy. Until today, there had been no one aboard the Oro Jackson who reacted with such explosive, lively emotion.
The adult pirates either talked down to him as though he were an overly young member of the crew, or treated him with their usual indulgent condescension. Some had even been trying to keep their distance ever since the recent incident when he had unexpectedly manifested Conqueror’s Haki, surprising everyone. But this girl... She got genuinely angry. And how! Shanks would have sworn he had never seen such a wild, flexible range of emotions in anyone before. She simply did not care who he was, how dangerous the adults around her might be, or where she was. And Shanks found that absolutely, unbelievably fascinating.
Meanwhile, although Buggy was still bright red with anger, she had once again begun discreetly surveying the ship from beneath her brows. She tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible, but Roger did not miss it. Her sharp little eyes kept lingering on the wooden staircases, cabin doors, thick ropes, hanging boats, and towering sides of the ship. Again and again, she glanced toward the place where the ship was secured to the pier by heavy ropes.
Roger exchanged a brief look with Rayleigh. The first mate, of course, understood immediately.
“She’s planning to escape,” Rayleigh murmured, barely moving his lips.
“Of course she is,” Roger replied just as quietly.
“We should keep an eye on her.”
“Definitely.”
Despite their whispers, Buggy caught the gist of their conversation. She immediately whipped her head around and glared at them suspiciously.
“I’m not planning anything like that!”
“Of course not,” Roger said with an easy nod.
“I really am not!”
“Certainly,” the captain repeated in the same utterly unruffled tone.
Buggy gave him the most distrustful look she could manage.
Adults always spoke in that sweet, calm voice when they had already decided that they were never going to believe you under any circumstances. She turned her gaze toward the shore again, looking almost wistfully at it.
The island was still so close. She could practically reach out and touch the land.
But running away right now would be sheer madness. Buggy understood that perfectly. If she jumped onto the pier this very moment and sprinted back into the slums, these people would find her again without any trouble. They knew where she usually hid and, worst of all, they now knew exactly what her face looked like.
Which meant there was only one thing she could do for now: Lie low and wait for the right moment. Buggy hated waiting. It was exhausting and made her nervous. But she knew how to do it. Life on the streets had taught her one simple truth all too well: a street thief’s survival depended on knowing when not to do something stupid too soon. So she exhaled, trying to calm her pounding heart.
Once Roger felt the tension leave her body, he finally released her, taking his hands away. Buggy immediately took one tiny, almost imperceptible step backward. Then another. None of the pirates even moved to stop her. She froze, watching the adults’ reactions with wide eyes.
Nobody lunged to grab her by the collar and started shouting. Good. She slowly, with some difficulty, steadied her breathing.
“Well then, little one,” Roger said with a broad smile, crouching down in front of her until they were almost at eye level. He gently ruffled her short, messy hair in an almost fatherly gesture. “Since we’ve had such a wonderful introduction, you can look around and start settling in!”
Buggy gave no response. She continued staring at the deck beneath her feet, trying to regain her breath and clutching her stale bun more tightly against herself.
“Oh! By the way, I’m the captain of this ship! My name is Gol D. Roger!” the man proudly announced, straightening up and raising his chin with a spirited grin. “Surely you’ve heard of me and my glorious crew!”
“No,” Buggy muttered under her breath, cutting him off.
“Huh...?” Roger blinked in confusion. The corners of his mustache drooped slightly, and his triumphant grin froze in utter bewilderment.
“I don’t know anything about you, and I’ve never heard of you in my entire life, understand?!” Buggy snapped angrily, frowning. “Look at you, getting all full of yourself! Why would I even need to know you?!”
Before any of them could recover, the girl spun on her heels and darted away from the gathered group. She slipped past the ship’s wheel and ducked into the shadows behind rows of squat wooden barrels securely tied along the side of the deck. Curling herself into a tight little ball, Buggy pulled her knees to her chest and breathed heavily and unevenly, glaring fiercely at the group through the narrow gap between the barrels. Safely tucked into her temporary hiding place, she once again gave the ship a quick survey.
Everything around her was unfamiliar. The people were strangers, and beyond the railing stretched an enormous, unknown sea. If Buggy stayed on this ship, they would soon be heading straight into the merciless Grand Line – the place she had heard seasoned sailors in the port talk about more times than she could count. Stories of ships vanishing without a trace. Of insane weather changing within mere minutes. Of sea monsters as huge as islands. And Buggy had absolutely no desire to find out which parts were true and which were just sailors’ tales. She might have been born on one of the islands of this insane sea and grown accustomed to its unpredictable nature, but here, on someone else’s deck, everything seemed deadly dangerous.
She wanted to go back. Back to her city, where she could run through familiar streets. Where she could hide when she was scared, or disappear into narrow alleyways whenever she needed to escape, with every stone as familiar as home. Back to the place where she knew exactly what to do, where to snatch a meal, and whom she needed to run from as fast as her legs could carry her. Here, she had nothing. And that uncertainty frightened her far more than she was willing to admit, even to herself.
Meanwhile, an awkward silence had settled over the deck. The men exchanged glances, and the first to break the silence was Gaban. Unable to hold it in any longer, he burst out laughing and slapped the captain on the shoulder, adjusting his dark glasses.
“Oh, don’t let it get to you, Roger! Not everyone has to recognize the great captain on sight! Street girls are usually more concerned with figuring out where to scrounge up scraps of food than studying pirate wanted posters!”
“All right, everyone, back to work,” Rayleigh said, cooling the crew’s excitement. “We need to get everything finished by tomorrow evening. The ship will leave as soon as we’ve settled everything in town. Until then, nobody scares the kid, pesters her with questions, or tries to drag her anywhere without a good reason. Let her get settled and get used to things.”
Roger remained silent for a while, looking toward the barrels where the girl was hiding. His broad, good-natured smile returned to his face, but there was the familiar confidence of a captain in his voice.
“Yeah, Rayleigh’s right. Let’s get to work. You’ve already frightened her enough, especially you, kid.”
“Where did I frighten her?!” Shanks asked sincerely, pointing at himself.
Rayleigh looked at the cabin boy over the top of his glasses.
“Do I need to remind you of your own words and behavior, cabin boy?”
“But it was funny! Everyone was laughing!”
“Perhaps,” the first mate replied calmly. “Now get to work. Those frayed ropes aren’t going to untangle themselves.”
“Yes, sir, Rayleigh-san,” Shanks sighed heavily, putting on the most agonized expression he could manage. He reluctantly trudged off toward the rigging.
Tucked away in the shadow of the resin-scented wooden barrels, Buggy finally unclenched her teeth and caught her breath. The gloomy expression on her face briefly gave way to intense calculation.
“By tomorrow evening.”
The phrase echoed through her mind.
An entire day!
A whole twenty-four hours to study every inch of this enormous ship, find a weak point, and disappear without a trace.
Meanwhile, Roger continued giving orders to the remaining sailors, trying to make himself heard over the hum of the evening port.
“Make sure she gets proper meals. If she needs clothes or anything else, find it in the storeroom and give her whatever we have. And keep an eye on that little firecracker so she doesn’t accidentally fall overboard!”
“I’m not going to fall overboard!” Buggy couldn’t help protesting, deeply offended by such an underestimation of her abilities. Her muffled voice came from inside her hiding place.
“Excellent!” the captain said with a dazzling smile, as though that was exactly the answer he had been waiting for. “One less thing to worry about.”
“And I’m not going anywhere with you tomorrow! So there!”
“Oh, you and I will discuss that in detail tomorrow,” the captain replied calmly.
Buggy pursed her lips in displeasure. She categorically refused to discuss anything with them. Her only plan was to escape. They just didn’t need to know that yet.
“What if she goes somewhere she shouldn’t?” came a deep voice from the other end of the deck.
“Then just stop her,” Rayleigh said with a shrug, adjusting his glasses.
“Hey!”
“Just make sure there’s no rough handling and no bruises,” the first mate added sternly. “Use your judgment depending on the situation.”
“I can take care of myself, you know! And believe me, whoever tries me is going to regret it!” the girl called out again.
“Exactly why you need to keep both eyes on her,” Rayleigh snorted.
Buggy merely huffed angrily and buried her face against her sharp little knees, deciding that it was better to stay quiet when nobody here seemed interested in taking her opinion into account. She hated, with a visceral intensity, the way these adults were making decisions about her fate as though she were not an independent person, but some troublesome little sack of problems their strange captain had happened to bring aboard.
Still, beneath the burning indignation, she noticed several important details.
No one was planning to chain her, tie her hands, or lock her in a dark hold under guard. She was simply allowed to remain on the ship until tomorrow evening – and that temporary freedom turned the entire situation entirely in her favor.
Once Roger was satisfied that the crew had understood his orders, he slapped the nearest pirate on the shoulder and barked:
“Now get back to work, you bunch of loafers!”
But Buggy was no longer listening to the captain’s instructions, completely absorbed in her own calculations.
As the adults gradually returned to their duties, the recent commotion on deck died down. Someone started working on the frayed ropes. Someone else began hauling crates of provisions with dull thuds. Several pirates disappeared below deck into the hold, while the others stopped openly glancing toward her hiding place.
The only serious problem Buggy had left was the red-haired boy. To her immense annoyance, Shanks had disappeared for only a couple of minutes. Now he was back, buzzing around nearby like an irritating fly, clearly eager to continue their acquaintance. Buggy tried with all her might to pretend she was completely indifferent, but with her explosive temper, maintaining the role of an emotionless statue for long was simply beyond human capability.
“What do you want?” she muttered through clenched teeth, poking her flaming red nose out from behind the barrel.
“Hmm... well, if I think about it, nothing,” Shanks replied casually.
“Then why are you hanging around here?”
“Because I want to.”
“Go somewhere else!”
“Where?”
“I don’t care! Overboard, for all I care!”
Shanks shrugged carelessly.
“All right, I’ll move. But I’m not going overboard, hahaha.” With that, he shamelessly sat down right on the dusty deck boards – barely half a meter from her hiding place.
Buggy frowned indignantly. She had genuinely expected him to argue, provoke her, or insist on proving himself right, which would have given her an excuse to grab him by the hair again. Instead, the boy made himself comfortable, pulled his legs up, and stared directly at her through the narrow gap between the barrels, studying her with completely undisguised, innocent curiosity.
Buggy honestly tried to withstand his open stare. But after only a few seconds, her face flushed with irritation and she deliberately turned away.
Roger, who had been watching their silent battle from a distance, chuckled quietly, almost like a father watching his children.
“And you say everything’s going badly. Looks to me like things are actually working out pretty well.”
Rayleigh gave him a deeply skeptical look over his glasses.
“Seriously? They’ve known each other for less than an hour, Roger.”
“And yet look at them! They’re already getting along! What a beautiful sight!”
“They look more like two wild cats clawing at each other than friends. Though I’ll admit Shanks has the stray puppy look down.”
“All the better! As long as they’re talking, that’s all that matters!”
Gaban, standing by the railing nearby, shook his head and leaned on the handle of his heavy axe.
“Shanks usually doesn’t get attached to people this quickly. They’ve barely known each other. And all this attention he’s giving her…”
“Gaban, you’d better shut up. They’re just kids, you idiot. Keep your romance theories far away from here.”
Rayleigh did, however, shift his gaze toward the red-haired boy, who was now tirelessly trying to get the blue-haired runaway’s attention. First, he carefully nudged a smooth sea pebble he had found on deck toward the gap between the barrels. Then he started tossing it into the air and spinning it around his finger, very obviously showing off.
“Looks like our cabin boy finally has someone his own age to fool around with,” Roger chuckled cheerfully, taking a sip from his mug.
Rayleigh glanced at the girl. At that very moment, she was trying to determine exactly where the stairs to the lower deck were and how clearly the gangplank could be seen, all while wearing the most innocent expression imaginable and casting barely noticeable glances around.
“And Buggy, on the other hand, looks like she’s about to figure out which of our holds contains the most valuable things so she can rob us blind.”
Roger flashed a brilliant smile as he drained the last of the ale from his clay mug.
“Great girl! Clever, sneaky. Kids like that grow up to become real pirates.”
Rayleigh sighed heavily, adjusting his glasses.
“I was not saying that as a compliment, Roger. The last thing we need is a mutiny organized by a child.”
Meanwhile, Buggy had absolutely no idea that her clever little scheme had already been figured out through a few simple observations. She was far too busy with her own strategy.
The ship was leaving tomorrow evening. That was the important part. Before then, she had to learn everything she needed to know: how many people stayed aboard at night, where the galley was, whether there were any “blind spots” on deck where nobody could see her movements, and where she could scrape together at least a small supply of food for the first few days. And if she managed to figure out where this pirate mob kept their bags of coins, even better. At the very least, she could stuff her pockets with anything the sailors had carelessly left lying around.
All that remained was to find a secluded place where she could wait out the night. Without even realizing it, Buggy squeezed her eyes shut in sleepy contentment and quietly yawned into her fist. The long day, packed with running, threats, fights, and stress, had completely drained her both mentally and physically. Her legs ached, and her eyelids had grown heavy, as if filled with lead.
The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, mentally sketching out the details of her plan. If she calculated everything correctly, she could wait for the most chaotic moment. When the ship began preparing to leave tomorrow evening, the entire crew would be running around like mad. Someone would be hauling up the heavy sails, someone else would be untangling and tightening ropes, others would be carrying the last crates aboard, and some would simply be distracted by watching the shore.
And that was when she would simply disappear into the dusk.
She would return to the city. Find her familiar alley, where she knew the position of every single brick. And everything would be normal again. Familiar. Predictable. She could even take some dry bread and a couple of pieces of dried meat from their supplies. And if these adult pirates were stupid enough to leave her aboard without chains or guards, then it would be their own fault when a few shiny trinkets mysteriously went missing. A slow, cunning, predatory grin spread across Buggy’s face. She already had the perfect plan.
“Buggy.”
She jumped at the sudden voice and whipped her head around, nearly banging it against the barrel. Shanks was still sitting right beside her, legs crossed, watching the changing expressions on her face with obvious interest.
“Tch… What do you want from me now?!” she hissed.
Shanks laughed cheerfully, adjusting the fresh bandage around his nose.
“Oh, nothing at all.”
Buggy frowned even harder. Honestly, this redhead had to be deliberately getting on her nerves. Very deliberately.
“Then turn around, stop staring at me, and go away!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re annoying me!”
Shanks scratched the back of his head thoughtfully, as though he were genuinely weighing the seriousness of her argument, then shrugged.
“Okay.”
And with that simple answer, he actually turned away from her in an exaggeratedly obedient manner.
Buggy blinked in surprise.
Meanwhile, Roger and Rayleigh continued watching the children from the height of the stern deck, leisurely sipping strong ale from their clay mugs. Roger remained silent for a while, but then his expression grew considerably more serious and perceptive.
“What about the Haki?” the captain asked quietly, looking at Buggy. “We should probably check the girl. What if she’s the same as our boy?”
Rayleigh took a sip of his drink and sighed heavily.
“Yes, I remember. But right now, the girl poses absolutely no danger. She’s frightened, exhausted, and wild as a stray cat. This is hardly the time to start questioning her or testing anything. We’ll figure out her potential gradually, once she starts getting used to the ship herself.”
Roger nodded deeply in agreement, twirling his magnificent mustache.
“Right. First, we need to feed her up and warm her up.”
“By the way…” Rayleigh narrowed his eyes as he looked at the captain. “Since you dragged her here, on what grounds is she actually going to sail with us when we leave tomorrow?”
“Same as Shanks!” Roger answered without hesitation, spreading his arms. “They’ll both be cabin boys aboard the Oro Jackson! We’ll teach her the ropes, give her some work, make her scrub the deck – get all that nonsense and street anger out of her head in no time.”
Rayleigh choked on his ale and stared at him skeptically.
“What? Roger, do you have any idea what this ship is going to look like once those two start sharing duties? They’ll wreck the galley on the first day! Shanks is already impossible to keep still, and with this girl aboard, we’ll have a twenty-four-hour hurricane of trouble.”
“Even better!” Roger roared with laughter, slapping his first mate on the back. “The ship has been needing a proper shake-up for ages! At least we’ll never be bored!”
Rayleigh shook his head, realizing that trying to change the captain’s mind was pointless. He was about to head toward his cabin when he suddenly stopped mid-step.
“And one more thing, Roger.”
“Hmm? What else?”
“Where exactly is she going to sleep tonight? It’s getting colder on deck. We can’t exactly leave her out in the open beside the barrels.”
Roger looked around with slight confusion. Deep darkness had already settled over the ship, with only the silvery light of the young moon softly illuminating the endless horizon of the sea. In just a couple of hours, most of the crew would turn in for the night, except for those who had decided to stay ashore and make a night of it.
The two men simultaneously surveyed the lantern-lit deck, then looked at each other.
There was plenty of room aboard the Oro Jackson. The ship was enormous, and the crew was hardly that large. There were dry storage compartments packed with barrels and chests. There was the noisy crew quarters that permanently smelled of tobacco. There were sleeping areas with rows of hammocks for the main crew. There was even a perfectly spacious and respectable captain’s cabin.
However, nobody had ever thought to provide a separate space for a child.
Or rather, they hadn’t exactly thought to provide one. When Shanks had been a very small child, he had simply shared Roger’s cabin. Only recently, after the boy had grown a little, had he dug in his heels and declared that he wanted to sleep like a real pirate—with everyone else in the common quarters. The crew had gotten used to the arrangement over the past year and a half.
And certainly, no one in their right mind aboard the Oro Jackson had expected that one day a small, prickly little girl would appear on their thoroughly male ship.
Roger scratched the back of his head thoughtfully.
“Well… what if we put her with the crew, like we did with Shanks back then?” the captain suggested, growing more enthusiastic as he spoke. “We could simply section off one corner of the quarters with a thick canvas curtain and hang a separate hammock there…”
Rayleigh merely let out a heavy sigh.
“The little storage room beside the galley.”
“Huh? The one where we keep the old sails and empty barrels?” Roger frowned. “Oh, come on, Rayleigh! Why make things so complicated for no reason?”
“We can clear the room in half an hour.” Rayleigh raised an eyebrow at the captain. “Roger, are you seriously thinking that a street girl – especially one as wild and suspicious as Buggy – is going to calmly spend the night surrounded by three dozen rough men? She won’t even set foot through that doorway. She’ll probably jump overboard first.”
“Oh! You’re absolutely right!” Roger brightened, planting his hands on his hips. “So I suppose we’ll show our little guest some true gentlemanly manners?”
“You could put it that way,” the first mate replied with a slight smirk. “Like I said, we’ll give her the small storage room beside the galley and the medical compartment and turn it into a little bedroom. Or, alternatively, we could arrange a connecting compartment right next to your captain’s cabin so she’ll always be within our sight. And most importantly, tomorrow I’ll make one very clear rule to every member of the crew: men and sailors are strictly forbidden from entering that part of the ship.”
Rayleigh was already mentally rearranging the room: remove the unnecessary crates, check for dampness and leaks, bring in a sturdy bed, a soft blanket, a small table, and an oil lamp. Nothing luxurious or regal. The important thing was that the girl would have a private space of her own, somewhere she could close the door at any moment and feel completely safe.
“We’ll need a lock, too. Or at least a latch,” Roger added firmly, adjusting his mustache.
Rayleigh looked at him carefully.
“From the outside?”
“From the inside.”
The first mate held his gaze for a moment, understanding immediately, then nodded.
“Reasonable.”
Buggy could be as grumpy and suspicious as she wanted. But while she was aboard their ship, she needed at least one place she could honestly consider hers alone. And perhaps a solid, reliable door that she could lock from the inside with her own hands would mean far more to her than a full stomach or a soft bed.
“Gaban!” Rayleigh called loudly, turning toward the quarterdeck. “Can you help clear out the storage room quickly?”
“Of course! What’s the problem?” Gaban readily called back, swinging his axe onto his back and rolling up his sleeves.
***
By midnight, the ship had indeed found a place for Buggy.
The storage room Rayleigh had chosen as her temporary quarters was located in the far aft section of the poop deck. Most of the time, it was used to store old, salt-stiffened sails, rolls of spare canvas, several heavy crates of carpentry tools, and various bits of ship equipment the crew had long since stopped using but still hadn’t gotten around to throwing away.
To a grown man, the room would have seemed terribly cramped, stuffy, and gloomy. But to Buggy, who had been unceremoniously retrieved from her hiding place behind the barrels and carefully carried here in someone’s arms, it looked suspiciously, almost frighteningly luxurious. Seriously. To a child, this was an entire room of her own. She had a real wooden door, and on it was a sturdy latch that could be fastened from the inside. High on the far wall was a small, round porthole.
Buggy noticed it first.
In fact, she stared straight at it before she even managed to take in anything else. The round window was positioned fairly high. An adult would have to stand on a crate or stretch up high just to look through it, and it was narrow enough that even the captain’s muscular arm would have trouble fitting through.
But to Buggy, the porthole meant something entirely different. The girl was small, skinny, and could climb no worse than a harbor cat. If she tried, she could reach it without much trouble despite the height. And most importantly, the window opened directly toward the outside of the hull. Through it came the steady, soothing sound of the nighttime waves striking the hull of the ship resting at the dock.
Buggy slowly tilted her head back and looked up at the dark glass, where the moonlight reflected faintly. In her mind, the first pieces of her future escape plan began clicking neatly into place.
“This is your little place on the ship,” Rayleigh said calmly, stopping in the doorway.
Buggy flinched at the unexpected voice. At the same moment, Gaban – the same terrifying dark-haired man in dark glasses – carefully lowered her onto the wooden floor. Without wasting a second, the girl immediately backed away from him into the farthest corner, looking around wildly.
“You’ll have some proper furniture tomorrow,” Rayleigh continued, looking around the room. “For now, you can spread the blankets over the crates and try to get some rest.”
Buggy frowned, feeling extremely uncomfortable beneath the watchful gazes of two tall pirates in such a confined space.
Meanwhile, Gaban silently placed a small wooden stool beside her makeshift bed. On top of it, he set a clay pitcher filled with clean water and, beside it, a plate of a hearty hot meal whose wonderful aroma filled the little room. “Here you go, runt. Food and water,” Gaban said with a good-natured grin, putting his hands behind his back. “You never came out for dinner. Relax. Nobody’s going to eat you.”
Buggy froze, momentarily completely thrown off balance. She was used to sleeping wherever she could find even the smallest dry corner. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had deliberately made a bed for her, let alone brought her good food simply because they wanted to, without asking for anything in return.
But the suspicion she had learned on the streets quickly took over, and the strange, unfamiliar feeling inside her was immediately pushed down.
“I never asked you for any of this!” she grumbled hostilely, clenching one fist while pointing at them with the other.
“Ha! We know. You’re starting to repeat yourself, you little devil,” Gaban said with a smirk.
“Then why are you doing all this?! I’m warning you right now: I’m still not changing my mind, and I’m not giving back anything I took from you!”
Rayleigh merely shrugged, completely unfazed by her outburst.
“Because you’re still a child, Buggy.”
The girl twisted her face as though she had just bitten into a lemon. She absolutely hated it when adults said that word in a tone that made “child” sound like a synonym for “helpless and stupid.”
“I can take care of myself!” she snapped.
“I noticed,” Rayleigh replied, a barely perceptible hint of amusement in his voice.
Before she could work herself up any further, the first mate turned toward the corridor and closed the door behind him, giving Gaban a brief nod to follow and leave the girl alone.
Buggy stood motionless for several seconds, listening to their footsteps fade away.
Then she tiptoed over to the door and looked up at the heavy metal latch. Holding her breath, she pushed it with one finger and closed it. Then she opened it. And closed it again, testing how sturdy it was. It worked perfectly.
Buggy quickly turned toward the porthole, dragged the sturdiest wooden crate over to the wall, and climbed onto it. She stretched upward, trying to reach the frame. Almost. She began jumping until her nimble fingers finally caught hold of the edge. With a pull of her skinny arms, the girl hauled herself up onto the sill.
“Aha…” she breathed triumphantly.
The window was small. Very small.
But Buggy was even smaller!
Her heart began pounding with delighted excitement. Her escape plan was becoming more and more realistic. She opened the porthole and tried to push her head through. Nope. Her ears got stuck. She tried getting one shoulder out. Still no.
Frowning in frustration, Buggy turned sideways, exhaled every last bit of air from her lungs, and tried again. This time, her shoulder scraped through!
“Ha! It works!”
She pulled herself farther out with all her strength and…
Got completely stuck at the hips.
For several seconds, the girl simply dangled helplessly and silently in the opening. Beyond the porthole stretched the dark surface of the nighttime sea and the shadowy pilings of the pier. Below, the restless splash of waves echoed against the ship. Her familiar anger began bubbling up again.
“Damn it all to hell…”
Buggy twisted her entire body, gave one harder tug, and with a sharp creak managed to squeeze herself back inside. She jumped down onto the crate and nearly lost her balance, but immediately straightened up with wounded dignity, nervously brushing off her trousers.
The important thing was that she had gotten through and confirmed there was a way out! Which meant the plan would work perfectly. She just needed to grease herself up a little better, or try harder next time, when the moment actually came.
The girl furtively looked around. The corridor was quiet. Nobody had noticed anything. Buggy looked triumphantly at the porthole, then at her thin arms, and gave a satisfied little snort.
“Excellent.” Now she knew exactly what she was going to do tomorrow evening.
Over the next few hours, Buggy became surprisingly calm. Listening carefully to the sounds outside, she waited until the footsteps of the pirates had finally died away somewhere deep in the corridor. The tension that had held her body tight throughout the entire insane day slowly began to fade.
With the door closed and herself hidden inside the little storage room, she felt relatively safe for the first time in a long while. This was her own little sovereign corner, where nobody stood over her shoulder, tried to grab her by the collar, or laughed at her appearance.
At first, she stared suspiciously for a long time at the wooden stool Gaban had left behind. The clay pitcher of clean water and the plain ceramic plate covered with a lid looked suspiciously like bait in a mousetrap. But the thick, spicy aroma of freshly cooked meat and vegetables seeped through the lid, and the quiet, treacherous growl of her empty stomach finally forced her to abandon her unnecessary pride.
Buggy tiptoed over to the stool, yanked the lid off the dish, and froze. It was soup.
A real, thick stew filled with large strands of tender meat, bright-red pieces of cooked tomato, and golden droplets of fat glistening on the surface. In all her years on the streets, Buggy had never tasted anything like it. Sometimes, burning with fierce envy, she had watched through the dusty windows of harbor taverns as wealthy sailors and merchants eagerly devoured steaming meals just like this one. The gnawing hunger and the memory of how irresistibly delicious that food had smelled suddenly blended together.
Taking the wooden spoon, Buggy scooped up a little of the thick broth. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for both fear and anticipation, and cautiously put it into her mouth.
And…
OH. MY. GOD.
This was beyond anything she could have imagined!
The explosion of flavor was so powerful that Buggy forgot how to breathe for a second. She couldn’t even find the words to describe the overwhelming delight rushing through her. The rich, hearty, scorching-hot broth instantly warmed her from the inside.
Forgetting every last one of her suspicions, the girl greedily attacked the contents of the bowl, wielding the spoon at astonishing speed. She was eating so quickly that she nearly choked, breaking into a muffled coughing fit. She had to stop for a moment just to catch her breath. That was when her eyes fell upon the loaf of fresh bread hidden beneath her jacket.
Originally, Buggy had been absolutely determined to save that bread for tomorrow. She firmly believed that under no circumstances whatsoever would she sit down to eat at the same table as those pirate idiots. However, after tasting that heavenly soup, her ironclad resolve had been seriously shaken. After a moment of consideration, the girl proudly lifted her chin.
Great Buggy deserves only the best!
Since they were keeping her here against her will, she would get her revenge by eating them out of house and home! How dare they come up with something like this? Buggy was certainly not going to starve herself. She would need all her strength for tomorrow’s escape!
With a perfectly clear conscience, she pulled the warm loaf from beneath her jacket, broke off a huge, crispy piece, and began dipping it directly into the thick sauce, sending bite after bite into her mouth. After such an extraordinarily filling, almost royal dinner – the kind Buggy had probably never experienced in her entire short life – the last bit of tension finally left her muscles.
A pleasant, heavy warmth spread throughout her body. The exhaustion accumulated over weeks of running around and sleeping through cold nights hit her with twice the force. The girl became irresistibly sleepy. She climbed onto the bedding made from blankets spread over the wooden crates, stretched luxuriously, and settled herself into a comfortable position. Buggy still tried to fight the approaching drowsiness, intending to think through the details of tomorrow’s plan. But her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
Curling up into a little ball and pressing her nose against the edge of the warm fabric, she instantly sank into a deep, peaceful sleep, lulled by the gentle rocking of the ship and the soothing sound of the waves outside the hull.