Chapter Text
Riiiiiiiiiiiing!
The bell rang.
That stressful, loud, and metallic noise that provoked utter joy when it meant recreation, and endless despair when it meant going back to class. A source of anxiety, fear of a surprise test, or instant emancipation from the high school walls. Prison walls for some, and knowledge tanks for others. All in all, high school always triggered vivid responses from every teenager in the world.
Except for Luffy.
Luffy had never been a fan of school, may it be high, low, or middle. He was not loathing it either, making it impossible for his teachers to properly punish him. He was too sweet and cordial to be considered a duffer, but too much of a simpleton to do great and have good grades. He just loved to go to school and meet new people. And for what he knew, he was now going to meet an awful lot of new people.
He chewed one last time on his barbecued snack, a euphoric smile plastered on his face, and entered the yard with firm steps. A beautiful, engraved sign displayed Grand Line High School upon his head, attached to the monumental wrought-iron gates that were wide open. His sandals made of straw scratched the sandy soil that divided in two a large area of green. Numerous students, gathered from both sides in various flows, either ignored him and his teenage-unlike cheerfulness, or stared at the rustic oddball making his way to the central panels. It was where all the students were sorted out in classes.
Luffy skipped his way to the panels, arms dangling on both sides of his revamped uniform: he wore a bright yellow t-shirt, on top of which was thrown a short-sleeved shirt, and the school checkered pants rolled up to his knees. But before he could access the panels, he bumped into a dark-fur coat that was twice his size.
“Aouch!” he let out. “What the hell? A bear?” he inquired, stunned by the material. He was met by two piercing eyes that definitely did not belong to a first-year student.
“Oi,” the mysterious guy said with an otherworldly voice. “Watch where you’re going, shorty.”
He was indeed twice as tall as Luffy, evidently smoking, wearing a dark-fur coat in September like a mafia boss, and turned around to glare at him top-to-bottom. A weird guy who looked like a ballerina and a girl standing back were with him.
“Why are you wearing a coat in summer?” Luffy asked innocently.
“You dipshit!” howled the ballerina, with big dangos on the sides of his head. “Apologize immediately to Crocodile, you half-breed!”
“Crocodile?!” the boy exclaimed, amazed. “That’s your name?! Do you have fangs?”
A brief silence filled the air, as the man’s company started to panic in anticipation of his reaction.
“Are you talking to me, you retard?” he said with an otherworldly voice. “Get lost.”
“Crocodiles don’t even have fangs!” screamed the weird guy who unexpectedly engaged in dancing circles around Luffy. Said Crocodile was tired of hearing his name in such vile mouths; silent exasperation was showing on his pale face, a big scar spreading across his long nose.
“Shut up!” Luffy defended himself. But he quickly dropped the charges and changed the subject, to focus on his main task ever since he set foot in the school. “By the way, you all look old. Do you know where Ace is? And Sabo?”
All he received was angry glares with various degrees of murderousness. Crocodile did not have large enough sockets to roll his eyes in irritation, undignified to even converse with the overexcited monkey before him. Moving towards the boy, the kingpin deliberately pushed him aside with a shoulder blow, stuffing the fur coat into his face. He then gave his orders to his subordinate. “Bon-chan, get this airhead out of my way. I have classmates to scare.” He spat his cigarette in front of him, and began to leave along with the girl. To Luffy’s great displeasure.
Clenching his jaw in frustration and anchoring his sandals into the ground, his two dark eyes followed the tall heavyset silhouette. Without thinking of the consequences, in one brief movement, he headbutted Bon-chan, who flew across the field as screams resonated in the schoolyard. He then proceeded to launch himself at Crocodile to hit him in the back.
The scary guy mirrored his acolyte’s trajectory and crashed onto the grass, the dark-fur coat flying in the air. All the students around started to gasp audibly, taking their phones out to record the incident, and letting out disbelieving laughs. It was utter humiliation for Crocodile, the big beefy fur-coat bully, who lay there face in the bushes. But by the time he got back on his feet to knock the monkey out, warning shouts tore the air. Luffy, who was facing Crocodile, turned around to see another stranger.
“What the hell is going on here?” a grave voice chastised. “Can’t you brats be quiet on the first fucking day of school?!”
A muscular man in his thirties magically appeared on the yard like a fog falls onto the river. Despite his loose leather jacket opened on his chest, his imposing cigar and his combat boots, he belonged to the school administration, considering that students began screaming “’Visor!” as if a bomb was being dropped on them during wartime. ‘Visor was short for High School Supervisor, a.k.a. the principal’s little soldiers. No one liked to see them barge in, because they rarely carried good news, and often dragged troublemakers into deep waters. Such were the means to enforce order in the wilderness of Grand Line High School.
“Smoker, he attacked me first,” stated Crocodile, as if he was the only one being bullied here. He crouched on the grass to get his coat back and threw it on his shoulders, trying to remain cool in front of the other kids despite wallowing like a wingless pigeon on the field. His square jaw was distorted by shame, as he gritted his teeth to hold himself back. He wanted this moron who dared to defy him to go to detention. He would break his legs at the end of the class.
“It’s sir for you. I don’t give a damn about your excuses,” the supervisor said. He ran one hand through his silver hair, then massaged his unshaven three-days beard. The look in his eyes indicated he was exhausted from dealing with teenagers and testified of a long career as a ‘Visor. He then gazed at Luffy, who was standing there with a scruffy look, a strawhat hanging on his back; his juvenile air was underlined by his big dark eyes and his skinny body shape.
“Who the hell are you? New here?” he demanded more than asked. The strawhat boy puffed out his chest in content, put his hands on his hips and declaimed his identity.
“I’m Monkey D. Luffy!” he blustered. “One day, I’m gonna be the pirate king!”
The familiar clicking of phones and social networks echoed in the schoolyard, as a deadly silence settled down. Smoker pulled his cigar to blow a thick cloud, completely unamazed at the statement. “That’s neither the place nor the person to tell. What is your grade? Class?”
“He’s a junior, and a stupid one,” Crocodile interrupted. “Can I go to class now?”
“Don’t try to come off as a nerd, I know what you are,” Smoker retorted.
“I don’t know which class I’m in, ‘cuz he messed with me first,” argued Luffy. “Do you know where Ace and Sabo are?”
The question seemed to have the effect of an electroshock to the jaded supervisor, who suddenly widened his tired eyes and tensed his whole body: he was close to having an aneurism. “You’re looking for those guys?! That can only mean you’re trouble. You both are coming with me to detention.”
“What?” the boy choked on his saliva, astonished. Crocodile joined him in his incredulous state.
“You heard me. You can’t just beat people around, only I can do that. Plus, you’re wearing your uniform completely wrong, we’re not at the beach.” Smoker added. “And as for you, croco-boy, I know damn well you started it first. Detention, both of you!”
All the curious onlookers gathered in front of the imposing façade began to chat and gasp, rejoiced to have some action on their first day of school; the replaying of videos out loud added to the general hubbub. Under a bright summer sky, whose clouds only emanated from supervisor Smoker’s cigar, Luffy was grabbed by the collar and dragged into deep waters, next to the fur-coated bastard who malevolently scowled at him, and definitely failing his mission to find Ace and Sabo and making friends. Or at least that’s what he thought.
***
The detention room was not even empty on this first day of school. It was a bright, minimalist space with aggressive neon lights that probably flickered on evenings, when the worst of students tried to finish an improvised essay. Its blackboard was of course useless, since most of the time the supervisor in charge only wrote “SHUT UP” in big white letters. One desk ruled them all, disposed in a way to oversee the class. The room smelled like chalk, half-opened snacks and failure. With a strange feeling in his chest, Luffy felt that he would spend a lot of time here. He was being pushed inside by Smoker when he caught sight of two existing silhouette already slumped on their respective chairs.
“I can’t believe that we’re reaching half-capacity on the FIRST day of school,” Smoker swore. “I hope you all are proud of yourselves. You’ll copy 200 times I am an idiot sandwich while I check your classes. I’ll be back in two sec’, and if there’s gutter, I’ll annihilate you.”
The strawhat boy audibly sighed, as he crumbled on the first chair he found, and threw an angry glance at Crocodile who settled at the back of the room. The guy on his left was sleeping, arms crossed under his exceptionally green head and drooling on his paper; as for the last convicted, he sat by the window and looked outside, playing with his chair as his boots laid on the desk, praying providence to get him out of here.
“Screw it!” roared Luffy in frustration. He threw his head backwards and sunk into the chair. “All this because of Crocs’!”
“I’ll gut you out later, half-breed,” mumbled Crocodile from his corner.
“Oi, can you wankers read or what?” the guy by the window growled, catching Luffy’s attention. Were fur coats fashion here? He also wore a crimson one, in keeping with his unusual red lips, painted nails and gelled spikes on top of his skull. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Do you want red wine with your total look, you diva?” Crocodile jested with a sardonic smile.
“Why are you in detention anyway?” the strawhat boy asked, genuinely preoccupied by the room’s occupants.
“Why do you care? Got in a fight. That’s all.”
A sudden grunting cut short to their little exchange – originating from the green-haired guy snoring. Well, who was visibly not snoring anymore. He had a quite scary expression reinforced by his blinded left eye, which made him look like an outlaw. “I’m tryna get some sleep here, quiet.”
“Then don’t go to school and get off my dick, Roronoa!” the crimson dude ranted. “Dang, y’all are dense this year. I can’t wait to leave.”
The door suddenly opened to let Smoker back in, still chewing on his cigar even indoors; he took a brief look at the pathetic picture depicted under his eyes and participated in the discussion. “No one’s stopping you, Kid.”
“Yeah, go back to your weird-ass country!” Crocodile scoffed from behind.
“It’s called Scotland and you’re ignorant on top of being dusty!”
“That’s enough! Write your sandwich phrases, you morons!”
“I wanna get out of here!” Luffy whined at 500 decibels, outraged by the injustice of the situation. Roronoa plugged his ear and gnashed his teeth, being the first victim of the strawhat’s desperate cry.
“Then write your essay and leave me alone too!” replied Smoker.
“I just wanted to find Ace and Sabo!” he continued, unaware that no one cared – in appearance. Kid abruptly raised his head and grasped the desk in shock, his aquiline nose scrunching in anger wrinkles; his coral eyes widened like saucers, as he hit the surface with his palm.
“This bitch of an Ace! I’m here because of him! And you’re what, his little bro?!”
Luffy immediately saw red – no pun intended – and mimicked him, putting this time his foot on the table.
“You bastard! What class are you in?”
“2-3, and I’ll kick your butt too!”
But before they could engage in any jousting, Smoker sent two chalks in their faces, which had the effect of immediately calming them down, as they collapsed on the PVC floor. The Roronoa guy was still caught up between the two, closing his eyes in an attempt to mentally reduce the noise.
“Sir, can I go? I’m the nicest one here,” he flatly let out, his coppery arms crossed on his chest. Smoker did not buy any of that.
“Bringing bladed weapons to school is forbidden, and I can’t believe I’m reminding you of that,” the supervisor mumbled. As Luffy heard the same thing, he pulled himself up to jump to Roronoa, suddenly fascinated by the sight of him.
“What do you want, weirdo?”
“You have swords?!” the strawhat boy squawked, eyes sparkling. “That’s so coooooool!” he said while emphasizing the end of the word and modulating his voice. “Can you cut rocks?”
“Of course I can,” the man answered, filled with pride and arrogantly putting his chin up.
“No, you cannot,” halted Kid from his desk.
“No one asked you, diva.”
“Yeah, you messed with Ace, I don’t like you!” Luffy added childishly. “Tennis ball is better than you all!”
“Who you calling a fricking tennis ball, dumbass?!” Roronoa protested. But deep down, he was beginning to like this strange little dude who came from nowhere. “You’re really Ace’s brother?”
The black-haired boy nodded in approval, still stuck to the swordsman’s desk. “Hm. He left without me last year. But now I’m at Grand Line too, so I can’t wait to meet him! Do you know him?”
“Briefly. I’m Zoro, by the way,” the other guy said, not extending his hand and looking at his interlocutor with a moderate interest.
“I’m Luffy!” the other sung with joy. “I’m gonna be the pirate king one day. And since you look like a pirate, we could be friends!”
“What kind of stupid-ass introduction is that?” Zoro snorted as Luffy referred to his blind eye. “And I don’t do friends. Only kendo.”
The strawhat’s mouth formed a “o” of surprise and completely ignored the guy’s remark. “Kendo? Coooool! I wanna see that!”
“Well, sign up for a class, so I can beat the crap out of you.”
Zoro then flaunted one of his famous smiles, closer to bloodthirsty grins that made his adversaries flee than actual displays of fondness. Along with his tanned skin and trained arms entrapped in his uniform jacket, he really looked like a boorish thug. A golden earring was dangling from his left ear, as the single piece of jewelry in the look of a man who privileged ascetism, in his speech like in his relations. Luffy let out one of his typical giggles, clinging onto the chair back and reflecting upon how great his day was since he found a new friend.
“Are we bothering you or what?” Smoker hailed as Luffy and Zoro dodged two other chalks.
***
The ten o’clock bell rang through the corridors, attesting that the break was soon going to end.
The streams of overexcited students flowed through the alleys, went up the stairs, and progressively split up in little groups that filled their respective classrooms. It was time to actually study, after taking care of all the paperwork and the annoying details. Heads of various colors and sizes passed under the door frames, and skirts of all types brushed against one another, revealing a myriad of different shoes slowly stepping inside, reluctant to get to work. The students who already knew each other couldn’t stop from gossiping and cackling; the other distraught newbies gauged each other from afar, wild eyes scanning the room. In one swift movement, they all regained their seats and waited for the teacher, as noise lingered in those half-break and half-class moments.
“I swear, it’s gonna be the funniest trick ever,” a long-nosed boy sneered while fomenting his best prank on the first day of school. He was holding back his laughter in anticipation, his thick lips pursued in a contagious rictus. The girl next to him, permeated with self-assurance, was not so convinced of the trick, and rolled her hazelnut eyes in disbelief.
“Usopp, no one would ever fall into a trap that basic,” she countered, flaunting her flamboyant ginger hair in a disdainful manner. She only did it to annoy her long-lasting friend and his infamous nose. But his immaturity had reached record levels this time, reflected in the childish bandana plastered on his brown forehead.
“Nonsense. Chopper would have fallen into it.”
“What?! No! That’s low, Usopp!” a super high-pitched voice cried out in the room, almost belonging to a child. And the concerned individual had indeed all the features of a tiny tot: perched on his chair, his little feet not even touching the ground, he had a big fluffy hat jammed on his head and soft chocolate eyes that contrasted with the flow of insults that came out from his mouth, evidently targeted towards Usopp.
“Admit it, it’s well done,” the trickster triumphantly assured. He then gazed with mischievous eyes on the doorframe, which presented imperceptible irregularities, as if a pellicle had been stretched out on both sides, at the head’s level. “The film is so transparent that even Mihawk’s eyes wouldn’t see it.”
“And what will you do if a scary teacher walks in?!” Chopper agonized while squirming in his seat. “Or worse, a school bully?!”
“AGAIN, only a fool would fall for it,” the redhead opposed, crossing her arms on her cute blue gilet. “I bet it’s gonna be a boy. Boys are dumb.”
“Yet you’re hanging with two of them, Nami.”
“Shut up! I hear someone coming!” Chopper yelped.
As a matter of fact, footsteps were gradually growing louder in the corridor outside. More precisely, it was… sandals. Who the hell wore sandals at school in September? Someone in a hurry, apparently. The steps were hectically hammering the floor, and almost burned like tires when they stopped in front of the class. There, to Nami’s utter disbelief, Chopper’s apprehension, Usopp’s delight and the class’ interest, a big, stupid head crashed into the transparent plastic film, almost detaching itself from the frail body carrying it.
Everyone burst out laughing as the victim lost all sense of direction and fell on the cold PVC floor. It was indeed a boy, and a very loud one, who began screaming in protest as soon as he came back to his senses. Usopp was hitting his thigh in hilarity. Even Nami had trouble containing her giggle.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Naturally, Luffy wondered what kind of welcome this stupid joke was, and stared at the class, a piece of the film still stuck on his forehead. Like that, he looked like a middle-aged mom dying her hair and lost the little credibility he had left. “OI! Who the hell put that here?!” he roared.
“You have endured the tactical genius of God Usopp!” the frizzy-haired rascal bragged out loud. “Thank you for making this joke so funny!”
Luffy was not a guy of bad faith and knew a good prank when he saw one. So he started to laugh along, while plotting his revenge behind his blissful enormous smile. It was anyway a better mood than in the detention room. As he tore off the last plastic wraps in his hair, a girl perfectly wearing the uniform with a cerulean ponytail ran to him with a preoccupied expression, mirrored in her kind and warm eyes.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” she wondered, taken aback but still fighting a smile. She then turned to Usopp. “He could have snapped his neck, U-Usopp!” she recalled.
“Don’t worry, no one is ever hurt during my pranks.”
“That’s not what Chopper said last year,” Nami deplored.
“I can’t snap my neck anyway,” interrupted Luffy, “’cuz I’m flexible.”
“If you say so,” the apparently top-class girl chuckled, and proceeded to extend her tanned hand. “I’m Vivi. Nice to meet you, even in those circumstances!”
“And I’m-”
A sudden noise interrupted the merry presentations. Before anyone could see him, the teacher was in the classroom, mute, and glared at the two in the middle.
He was not a regular teacher, like everyone in this crazy school. Almost making the floor quiver like a scared animal, the man was at least two-meters tall; squeezed in a classical gray suit, he wore a long white moustache that curled up on his sunken cheeks and held a heavy book in his right hand. By the time he put the volume on his desk, all the students had gone quiet, impressed by his stature and his authority. Vivi rushed back to her seat in dread, straightening her back and audibly gulping, whereas the strawhat boy just stood there. And looked at the teacher, who gave him back his dumbstruck gaze.
“Monkey D. Luffy, first-year student,” his cavernous voice stated. “Sent to detention at 7:54 AM. The school record, dare I say.”
“Yeah, and I’m gonna be the pirate king!” the madman assured, raising whispers and guffaws in the classroom. “And it was not my fault!”
“That’s what they all say,” the teacher continued. “About detention. Not about becoming pirate kings. Go to your seat.”
The cheerful boy did not let the remark change his mind, as usual; nonetheless, he knew he would be in trouble again if he did not cooperate. Blinking twice, he turned around to make his way to the remaining empty seat next to Nami, his sandals filling the air with a flip-flop noise. Luffy drew the chair, happy to make the acquaintance of new faces, even if Usopp had tried to kill him earlier.
“Are flip-flops fashion again?” whispered Nami to his intention, almost disgusted. She deliberately voided the seat next to her for her bag, which was thrown on the floor by Luffy. “Hey!”
“Fashion is what you like to wear,” the boy naturally answered.
“I mean… I guess?”
“Touché, Nami,” scoffed Usopp in a low voice. “I like you. You can be part of my crew, if you want.”
“The hell?!” Luffy objected a bit louder than expected. “You’re all joining my crew!”
“Both of you, shut up!” Chopper pleaded from afar, tears almost forming in his big eyes due to stress. “The teacher’s gonna-”
By the time he could finish his sentence, the white-mustache professor was already at their level, as if a block of marble had suddenly been dropped in front of them. The coldness that irradiated from him rather corroborated the thesis of an iceberg.
“What did I just say, lads?”
If the tone was intended to be cordial, it just conveyed a really unsettling and frightening vibe, emphasized by his penetrating gaze sunken into his orbits. Usopp audibly gulped, Chopper fought the need to have a breakdown, whereas Luffy simply looked at him, ready to declare he couldn’t care less.
“T-That knowledge is power, Mr. Whitebeard,” Nami articulated while adorning her most poised expression.
Silence.
“Exactly, young lady,” Whitebeard nodded in approval. Usopp looked at her flabbergasted, mouthing How do you do that, you crook?!, and the ginger answered I just made up that name and never thought it’d work.
“And you’re all WEAK, because of your ignorance!” the scary teacher declaimed, carrying the metaphor. “I will make you STRONG thanks to knowledge, just as Mr. Bacon amazingly theorized it!”
One row ahead, Vivi stared at the imposing silhouette with circumspect eyes. “That’s not the proper way of teaching,” she muttered to herself.
“Bacon?!” Luffy said as drool started to form on the corner of his big mouth. “I’m so hungry…”
The statement provoked uncontrollable laughter from the entire class, who definitely got attached to their new proclaimed clown. Whitebeard settled for a pained groan, and hit the strawhat’s desk which almost broke under the blow. Usopp, Nami, Chopper and Luffy all jumped in dread.
“You can eat anything you want after we elect the class presidents. In the meantime, I want you to shut your mouth, lad. Understood?”
The raven-haired troublemaker searched for a trace of compassion in that man’s look, and eventually sealed his lips, nodding like a 4-year-old being scolded.
“Right!” Whitebeard resumed as he returned to his desk. “As the ginger said, my name is Mr. Whitebeard. Easy to remember. Unless I shave.” He seized a piece of chalk to write his identity in beautiful gothic letters on the blackboard, making sure to produce screeches at every movement. The students all plugged their ears in agony, wondering where they had ended up. “I am your history teacher. We shall now proceed to the election of the class presidents. I want names in one minute.”
“What is this, dictatorship?!” Usopp bawled in indignation. “We’re not in the Hunger Games!”
“Why is everyone in this school so weird?” the redhead girl complained, frowning in disenchantment and cupping her chin.
The atmosphere was filled with murmurs and interrogations, everyone accusing everyone and forcing people to present themselves. Evidently, class president positions were not coveted as much as the administration liked to believe: the candidates were either nerds uneasy with public speech, or class clowns who wanted their hour of glory. For teachers, it usually was the moment they regretted their career path. But such was the fate of every school: one girl and one boy per grade had to accept those responsibilities (never rewarded, contrary to the principal’s advertisement). It was brilliant democracy. Or the great Reaping, as Usopp noted.
“You made quite an entrance, Luffy. Why don’t you nominate yourself?” Nami cynically asked.
“No thanks. I don’t even know what nominate means.”
“Yes, that’s definitely gonna be a problem,” Usopp deplored, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.
The ginger-haired girl suddenly raised her chin, hit with an epiphany after scanning the room. Her brown eyes were abruptly lit by a Machiavellian glimmer that Usopp and Chopper knew very well. “Maybe not you, but definitely the one who helped you. Hey! Hello!”
With a voice as sweet as honey, she called several times for the silhouette one row ahead of them, rigidified in composure. The blue ponytail girl checked to see if she was the one concerned, then turned around to face the group. She threw a sympathetic glance at Luffy, and grasped the back of her sear with her two delicate tanned hands. “Oh, hello! Yes?”
“Vivi, is that right?”
“Erm, yes. I’m sorry for holding you up earlier, Luffy,” she apologized on a smile, and lowered her tone. “I didn’t know the teacher would be so strict…”
“Aye, why’re you apologizing, dummy?” he laughed out loud. “It was Usopp’s fault anyway!”
“Don’t drag me in there, asshole!”
They were interrupted by Nami, who shamelessly pushed their cheeks to mute them, and bent in Vivi’s direction. She completely changed personalities with girls. “Tell me, you look like the perfect straight-As student, no flattery intended. Wouldn’t you be interested in the class president position? I mean, you helped Luffy with great magnanimity and selflessness earlier. Those are the qualities required.”
“A-Are you trying to lure me in?” Vivi mumbled, embarrassed.
“Yeah she is. Be careful,” Usopp and Chopper warned together. But only the long-nosed guy received a slap behind his head, which hit the table at full speed.
“Don’t listen to him. I only do female solidarity. I may force your hand a little, but don’t you think you’re suited for the job? Luffy, what do you think?”
The class clown settled for a bright, white-teeth and completely uninterested smile. “Mm, whatever! As long as you’re part of my crew!”
“Oh… you’re really carrying the pirate king metaphor, that’s actually funny!” Vivi replied, not knowing how to interact with the group. After all, they were abnormally nice, despite being a bit strange. She had acted without thinking when she saw the strawhat boy pathetically fall down, feeling sorry for the oppressed. Well, if there was one thing Luffy was oppressed with, it definitely was his simplemindedness. But coming from a far-far away country, finding herself all alone in this big odd school, Vivi felt like it was her duty to be welcoming and hearty. So she had helped Luffy without questions. Maybe this Nami girl was right, despite her obvious interest in pushing her into the limelight?
Pale fingers grabbed her sun-kissed hands. Vivi looked up in shock, only to see the ginger wearing a radiant smile.
“And once you’re the class president, don’t forget who put you there!”
“NAMI!”
The votes had been closed for a few minutes. Whitebeard was patiently waiting for everyone to come back to their seat, twisting his moustache. The makeshift ballot box, which consisted of an old Telethon carton, was abruptly turned upside down by the teacher. He started to spell out the names scribbled more or less legibly on papers, as another student put scores next to each candidate. Vivi was biting the inside of her cheek in anxious anticipation, as Luffy’s group was relentlessly cheering her up at each point obtained. However, it was to be noted that the competition was not that tough. Only a glasses-wearing nerd with a black bun and a severe expression had applied too, and did not collect the expected amount of votes. On the other hand, the five high schoolers began to frown as they watched the male candidate clearly stand out.
“Wait…” Chopper noted. “Who is the guy currently winning with Vivi?”
“The results are out!”
Whitebeard’s tenor voice tore the air, generating another handful of jolts from the students. Without further ado, not wanting to keep his lads mired in ignorance – thus weakness, he grandiloquently announced the chosen ones.
“Election results: Vivi and Cavendish!”
The whole class broke into exclamations, and some even clapped. Vivi turned to Nami and the others, euphoric without even knowing why; the four congratulated her zestfully, Luffy hitting her on the back. But they soon regained their composure, especially thanks to Chopper’s intervention.
“Wait, Chopper is right, who the hell elected that guy? Who is he anyway?” Usopp wondered. The glasses-wearing nerd with raven hair, finding herself not far away, joined the conversation and established the infringement.
“Cavendish is the blonde guy with roses on his backpack,” she declared while pointing at the newly knighted student. He was indeed blonde, flaunting his luscious locks cascading on his shoulders, covered by a non-regulatory lace ruffle sewed to his shirt. He was sending kisses to the crowd, and taking girls’ numbers.
“You’re telling me he’s gonna represent us?” Nami lamented, caught between despair and indifference.
“Yeah, think about me, I’ll be stuck with him every time!” Vivi complained. She was joined by Luffy, who did not understand the democratic process and called out the nerd.
“I don’t get it, how did he win, Glasses?”
“My name is Tashigi, thank you, and for all I know, he may have stuffed ballots in his favor,” she simply stated, rigid like justice.
“THAT’S ANYTHING BUT DEMOCRACY!” Chopper cried out, appalled by high school life.
Luffy did not grasp what ‘ballots’ meant, so he just went along with it, and flashed his emblematic smile. This class was all in all funny as hell!
He was going to have a good time, and he was definitely going to tell Ace and Sabo about it.