Archive of Our Own

He could tell you when it happened. When they went from being friendly rivals to sworn enemies, or at least enemies in Buggy’s eyes. It wasn’t when Shanks made him eat a devil fruit, cursing his ability to swim for all eternity, no. It was the day Roger gave Shanks that stupid hat. And sure, Buggy didn’t really want the straw hat. It wasn’t flashy enough for his tastes—but the hat was their Captain’s (their father’s) crown, and he had given it to Shanks. Shanks who was brave and kind and partied with the rest of them. Shanks who had the ability to lead but was humble enough to follow. Shanks who picked up on haki like another limb. Shanks who was trusted enough to fight with the Roger Pirates by their side. Shanks. Shanks. Shanks. Always Shanks.

And Buggy was no fool. He knew he was a coward. But he always thought that one day he would be like them. Able to fight like them. Be unafraid like them. And the realization started quietly, and achingly slow, and then it hit like a bellyflop to the ocean—sudden and painful. That he was never going to be like them. Able to fight like them. That he wouldn’t be insanely strong and able and brazen as they are. And he realized it the day Roger gave Shanks his hat.

It was a normal day. Sun shining. Waves gently rocking the boat. Shanks and Buggy were sitting side by side, shoulders touching, on the rail of the ship, fishing lines hanging over the edge disappearing into the depths of the blues. Normally on a day like today—calm, quiet, rare---Buggy could be found holed up in his and Shanks’ room reading the latest book he had gotten from the last island. But he had finished everything, and it was still awhile to go before he’d get a chance at another bookstore, so Shanks had roped him into fishing.

They could hear their captain approaching, but they had an ongoing competition as to who could snag the biggest fish for dinner, so they kept looking forward at the ocean, ignoring the footsteps behind them.

“Hear ya go, son! You need to keep that sun out of your eyes if you’re going to beat Buggy at a fishing contest.” Buggy glanced to the side to see what Roger was talking about, and saw Shanks look up in acknowledgement to his captain, a new weight of Roger’s worn straw hat on his head shading his eyes from the glare of the sun. “Show him how it’s done!” Roger smiled

Buggy protested, “Hey that’s an unfair advantage!”

“Hey now,” his Captain said, hand still resting on the crown of the hat now sitting on Shanks’ head, “Poor Red needs his protection from the sun! His face is starting to turn the color of his hair from sitting out here all day. You’ve got that sailor’s tan unlike him.” He waved Buggy off, “You’ll be fine.”

Shanks grinned up at Roger from under the brim, “Thanks, Captain! I’ll snag the biggest fish for you!”

“Tch.” Buggy scoffed and jumped down from his spot on the rail, suddenly not feeling up to this game of theirs. “Whatever. I’m going inside. Have fun catching your never-biting fish.”

“Aw Buggy come on! You’re no fun.”

Buggy ignored Shanks’ mocking and the feel of his Captain’s eyes burning a hole in between his retreating shoulder blades. Roger always had this uncanny ability to make you feel extremely unsettled with just a look. On the flip side he could also make you feel like the most special person in the world. Buggy shut the door to his shared cabin, grabbing a book he’d probably read a dozen times before at random from his small library. He wondered when the last time he felt special to Roger was. He thought back on it and felt resentment grow in his gut.

Roger was affectionate. Touchy-feely with all his crew. A friendly shoulder bump here, a pat on the back there, and reserved specifically for his boys, a ruffling of their hair. Buggy sat there and thought. It had been a while since Roger had praised him in training. Had been a while since Roger had spoken to Buggy alone. And Buggy started to realize that Shanks always got hair ruffles. Shanks always got a squeeze on the shoulder, or a beaming smile paired with a well done from their Captain after a training session where Shanks had displayed his proficiency in haki already. Buggy still struggled, ending up with bruises that took weeks to heal after being practically beaten while blindfolded to train his observation. Shanks’ few and far between bruises never took that long to heal. He could be beaten down and back at it the next day. Shanks got praises from the crew. Buggy got pitied looks.

And now, Shanks was allowed to wear the hat that Buggy had yet to even touch. Buggy was bitter.

There was a time Buggy looked up to Roger as his savior. Buggy looked up to him as someone who saw a sad little kid with no home to go to and gave him one instead. He had seen Buggy in a way no one else had before and welcomed him on his ship, asking for nothing in return. He fed him, clothed him, gave him a brother and a family. Buggy would have done anything to repay him.

But now it’s different. He’s been with the Roger pirates for four years now, and what once felt like a welcome home, now made him feel like an outsider. It had been fine at first. He loved the adventures and the sights. He loved getting to know his new crewmates and spending time messing around with Shanks. He liked the action they saw—even if Shanks and Buggy were always told to stay below deck, they couldn’t help themselves when a rival crew or marines came aboard. They’d always sneak around to watch the controlled chaos. Because that’s what it was—controlled. Roger manned a battlefield with authority and charm. They knew they wouldn’t get hurt because their Captain would protect them. It was fun.

 But things started to change with the training. Roger and Rayleigh deciding the boys old enough to learn to fight for themselves, and while Buggy struggled to keep up with the lessons in self-defense, Shanks took to it like a fish to water, quickly becoming Rogers protégé. Their training wasn’t easy. Living on the grandline, sailing with monsters made people, they had to learn to be tough and to fight. But Buggy wasn’t a fighter at heart. He rather spend his day reading or doing his chores around the deck. And so, Shanks got the praise and Buggy got pity. When they were twelve, Shanks was allowed to fight with the crew. Buggy stayed behind. Buggy always felt like he was behind. One day, he feared, they would leave him behind too.

Buggy met Captain Roger in a little no name island in the early parts of the grandline. His island was small, the locals living simple lives on the edges of the shore, staying far from the large forests that overtook most of the island. His parents died when he was young, and the few villagers that had cared for Buggy in the beginning lost time for the boy, and so Buggy had to learn to survive on his own.

He spent his time stealing from the travelers, learning to pick pocket to support himself. He learned the intricacies of survival.

This time, the pocket he decided to pick was more dangerous than he had pegged. He did his usual run through the town, bumping his shoulder against the man’s hip, hand sliding into the inner pocket of the man’s long overcoat, intending to keep running with his prize when a hand yanked his arm back and large fingers grasped around his thin wrist. Damn. He had been caught. Buggy chanced a glance at the man who now firmly grasped his wrist in his fist, strong and sure, but not vicious in nature. He was tall. His dark hair a striking contrast against the yellowing fibers of the straw hat on his head. His white shirt was simple, flowing, yet snug in all the right places, with a low V showing off his muscled chest. His sash was slightly dirty, showing wear and tear as is the life of a pirate. The thing that was striking and marked him of any import was his red overcoat, gold flecking at the shoulders and cuffs. Buggy had chosen this man as he seemed unassuming and wealthy, wandering the town without a care, but looking up at the man now from his place near his hip, arm firmly grasped, Buggy could feel the strength this man radiated. It was near tangible.

“Oh, what do we have here?” The man spoke, his voice deep and not at all curious as the question would have suggested. It was neutral instead, which made it all the more frightening to the young boy.

Buggy grit his teeth and tried to pull his arm away, cursing silently to himself that he let himself get caught. But his arm wouldn’t budge. His pulling became frantic

“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be too happy if they knew what you were doing.” The man admonished, grabbing the stolen coin pouch out of Buggy’s hand.

“Shuddup! You don’t know me!” Buggy spat, still struggling against the hold of the man even now that his prize was gone.

“Oh? Is that how it is?” The man said, a knowing look in his eye that Buggy couldn’t place, “Well then, my son is about your age. Why don’t you come meet him. Maybe you two could be friends!”

“What are you talking about? Let go of me!” The blue-haired child kept pulling on his arm, getting nowhere with his efforts.

The man stood his ground, “Where are your parents? Your family? I’d bet they’d love to know what you were doing.”

Buggy bristled at the interrogation, “I don’t have any family, now let go of me!”

The man’s face morphed from a neutral expression to one of appalled disbelief, “No family? That just won’t do. Say, why don’t you come with me and meet my crew. They’d love to have you on board.”

Buggy stopped his struggling, curiosity getting the best of him, “Your crew? Are you a pirate?”

“Sure am!” The man smiled, “I have my own ship and everything.”

“Do you find a lot of treasure?” Buggy asked.

“Of course! That’s only a bonus to the adventures we go on.” The man had let go of Buggy’s arm, letting it drop back to his side in a sign of good faith. A child could always be trapped by the idea of adventure, it seemed this one was no different.

Buggy seemed to think about it for a minute, unsure of the strange man, but he couldn’t feel any malice, and his radar for trouble was usually pretty good. It had to be. “Okay. I’ll come with you to see the ship.” He settled on, “But only for a little bit!”

The man’s smile only grew, “Only for a little bit, gotcha!”

And Buggy went. They walked to the docks, Buggy a step behind the tall man. He had to bite back a gasp at the size of the ship, no galleon, in front of him. He was used to the merchant ships that came through the docks, but this? The mermaids on the figurehead seemed to call to him, and he found himself walking up the gangplank before he could stop himself, ever the curious child. The deck was beautiful, Adam Wood polished and expertly carved. He could see doors that lead to other parts of the ship, and saw the incredible height of the main mast, crow’s nest causing a ring of shade to appear on the wood below. It was surrounded by benches, making anyone able to sit around the base easily, a view from all sides. Buggy was in awe.

There were a few crew members hanging around, curious eyes following their Captain and Buggy in his tour around the ship. If they had any concerns about the boy, however, they didn’t speak their minds. Their Captain was more than capable and able to handle himself against an eight? year old.

After Buggy’s tour of the ship, including the navigation room, bunks, captain’s quarters at Buggy insistence, and even the storage rooms, Roger, as Buggy had come to know him, decided to sit them down in the mess hall, “So, what do you think?” Roger asked, sitting across from Buggy at one of the tables.

Buggy’s eyes had stars in them, “It’s super cool! You get to live here every day? Go on adventures? Find treasure?”

Roger laughed at his enthusiasm. Not too long ago the boy was cursing in his grasp and now he was acting just like a kid should. “Yep! It’s pretty great.”

“You’re so lucky.” Buggy pouted, “I wish I could hunt for treasure all the time.”

“Well then, why don’t you stay? How would you feel about becoming a cabin boy on my ship?”

Buggy’s eyes grew wide. Him? A cabin boy on a pirate ship? Him? A pirate? He had never really thought about the idea before, mostly focused on the day to day and where his next meal would come from. The idea that he could live a life with people who wanted him there was foreign to him. He had always been alone. Cautiously, in a voice smaller than he had anticipated, Buggy asked, “You really mean it?”

Roger looked at him with absolute certainty, with a look that said that everything was going to be okay, with a look that said if you trust me and join me, you’ll never be alone again, “Of course I do! Shanks will be happy to have a friend on board.”

“Alright then! I’ll join your crew so I can find all the treasure!” Buggy grinned up at Roger, at his new Captain, and tilted his head to the side, “Who’s Shanks?”

Shanks, it turned out, was a boy Buggy’s age who lived on the Oro Jackson. He had bright red hair which stood out in the sun. They were about the same height, but Shanks was fuller in the cheeks, evidence of a well-fed child, unlike Buggy who had to pickpocket to scrap together something to eat. Because they were the same size, Buggy was given some of Shanks’ clothes to change into until they could get to the next island who had a proper seamstress. Buggy’s clothes could have been described as rags, and Roger wasn’t having his new crewmate looking like a street rat if he had any say. In his joining the crew, a party was held, and the alcohol flowed. Buggy wasn’t allowed to drink any, which he thought frankly quite rude, it was his party after all, but Rayleigh had insisted that Buggy and Shanks not be given any alcohol, so they got apple juice instead.

Later Buggy would curl up in the hammock given to him in a little room where Shanks apparently slept—they’d be sharing, “Cause we’re brothers now!” Shanks said, and wonder how he came to be here. How he could get so lucky to be able to go on adventures and see the world. Wonder how he wasn’t alone anymore.

“How’d you end up on the ship?” Buggy asked into the dark of their shared cabin. He could tell the other boy wasn’t asleep by his tossing and turning, “Did they find you on an island like me?”

Shanks snorted, as if he was part of some inside joke that Buggy wasn’t privy to, “Nah I’ve always been here. Captain says he and Rayleigh found me in a treasure chest. Saw it as fate or something. I’ve never known anything else.”

Buggy’s eyes grew wide in disbelief, turning to stare at the dark where Shanks’ hammock hung next to his, “A treasure chest?! Really? That’s so cool!”

Shanks hummed, “Hmm I guess so. I sometimes wonder how I got there.”

“Well however you did,” Buggy began, jealously of the life Shanks had lived compared to him evident in his voice, “You’re lucky.”

Shanks smiled large and wide, “Yeah I am. But you’re here now too! So, it’ll be even more fun! We can play pranks on Gaban and sneak snacks in the crow’s nest and I’ll teach you how to scale the rigging and it’s gonna be so fun.”

Buggy nodded his head at everything Shanks was saying, a growing anticipation of the future to come taking hold of him. He locked eyes with his new friend—his new brother—in the moonlight streaking through the porthole to their heads and nodded, “Yeah okay. Let’s start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” Shanks reached his hand out in an offer of a handshake. Buggy reached out and grasped his arm around the other in agreement. The first day of the rest of his life coming to an end.

Buggy watched as Shanks trained with Roger. Always with Roger. Rayleigh was in charge of Buggy’s training, being more patient and willing to work at a slower pace. Where Buggy struggled, Shanks excelled.

“I think you’re ready!” Roger exclaimed on the other side of the deck.

Shanks took off his blindfold, looking up at his Captain in curiosity, “Ready? Ready for what?”

“To fight with us in the next battle.” Roger grinned, Ruffling Shanks’ hair in the process.

“Really you mean it?!” Shanks jumped up and gave Roger a hug, his head still only coming up to the Middle of Roger’s chest, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Buggy turned and faced Rayleigh, the question on the tip of his tongue. Rayleigh cut him off with a shake of his head. “Why don’t you stay below deck, kiddo. You’re just not there yet.” He said, giving Buggy a firm pat on his shoulder.

And those words burned. Burned deep in Buggy’s chest. He had been practicing, alright? He did the same training regime Shanks did each day. He woke up, did his chores, and made his way to the deck to work with Rayleigh. He did his blindfolded observation training. Stuck his hands in boiling water to train his armament. He took the beatings that came with learning self-defense. He did everything just as Shanks did, the only difference being Shanks’ learning to fight with a sword and Buggy having to fight with knives—a sword was simply too heavy and awkward for him— so why was Shanks so much better? So much stronger? So much further than he was?

And then the next battle came, and Shanks was practically vibrating from his place beside Buggy. Buggy knew the routine and would go hide below deck once the marine vessel got closer. For now, they waited with bated breath.

“How many do you think I’m going to take down, Buggy? I bet I’ll at least get ten of ‘em. No wait! Twenty! Yeah that’s right I’m gonna down twenty of them” Buggy ignored Shanks’ excited rambling beside him, watching the horizon line where the marine vessels in front of them were approaching at a much quicker pace than Buggy preferred. He was not looking forward to this battle. It was the first battle Shanks was able to fight in having been given the greenlight by Roger. Buggy still had to hide below deck. And Buggy wasn’t resentful towards Shanks—not really—he felt more resentment towards his Captain more than anything, but Shanks was a much easier target of his bitterness than his Captain was, and he was right there.

“I don’t care how many stupid marines you take down.” Buggy crossed his arms, “It doesn’t prove anything. Anyone can knock out some low-level marine fodder.”

“Oh yeah?” Shanks grinned something fierce, a mocking glint to it, “Then why don’t you try to beat me, huh Buggy? Think you can do better than me?”

“Of course I can!” Buggy sneered, “But Rayleigh says I have to stay below deck.”

Shanks rolled his eyes, not seeing the problem with his suggestion, “Then sneak out!”

Sneak out? The idea had crossed Buggy’s mind many times. When the Roger pirates were in battle, they shined. Their expert prowess in reading and destroying their enemies was unparallel. Most marine ships steered clear of the crew unless they had a death wish. These marines seemed to have one, and none of the Roger pirates were going to pass up the chance at a fight when it had been so long since the last one. It was only a few weeks by Buggy’s count, but living on the grandline that was near unheard of. It was a power battle every other day. Buggy had thought about sneaking out from his hiding place dozens of times. He’d just never been brave enough, bold enough, brazen enough to do so. But now, Shanks had challenged him, and Buggy would be damned if he lost to Shanks of all people.

He had hidden below deck for the first few minutes of battle, just long enough to see his Captain and First Mate become occupied in their own battles before creeping his way to the deck, knives firmly grasped in his hands. He could do this. He would fight and show Roger and Rayleigh and Shanks that he was more than capable of fending for himself. He had the same amount of training Shanks had after all, how far behind could he be? With Buggy on the deck, his trepidation at his being there began to grow. This was a battlefield, and while he had seen many, he had yet to partake. It was intimately different than he thought it would be. Bloodshed and carnage. Face-paced chaos. Weapons striking from every direction, punches being thrown, bones breaking, and Buggy wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid. If he kept telling himself that he wasn’t then he wouldn’t be. But Buggy wasn’t a fighter, and that fear was creeping higher and higher in his chest. Something pinged behind him, observation waking just enough for him to notice the marine coming at him from behind, sword drawn. He didn’t have enough time to move. The last thing Buggy thought was how mad Roger would be. Rayleigh would have that disappointed look that was almost worse, but nothing could beat the disapproval from his Captain.

Buggy could practically feel the sword inches from his neck when he felt it. A rolling wave of power demanding to be obeyed. A command without words. The man above Buggy fell to the ground, frothing at the mouth. Buggy looked up expecting to see his Captain or Rayleigh, Buggy had known conqueror’s haki when he saw it, and the only people on their crew to possess it were the Captain and First Mate. Instead, he met eyes with Shanks who was still, almost frozen in shock of what he had just done, hand reaching out towards Buggy.

“Shanks—” Buggy breathed, “How did you—”

“Don’t mention it.” Shanks cut in, falling from his outstretched stance, glancing down at the marine at Buggy’s feet. “What was that you said anyways? ‘Anyone can take out low-level marine fodder?’”

Buggy bristled, “He just caught me off guard. I could’ve taken him!”

“Sure.” Shanks drawled, “Or you would have your head sliced off. I think a thank you is needed”

“Thank you?” Buggy asked incredulously

“You’re welcome!” Shanks interjected.

Buggy brushed off Shanks’ response, continuing, “Why would I thank you? You took my kill.”

Shanks’ jaw dropped, “And so what? You’d be dead if I didn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” Buggy’s response was cut off by a sharp, “Boys!”

Shanks and Buggy turned to look up at their Captain who had come over in the middle of their bickering and at the resolution of the fight. “Buggy. What did we say about you not being on deck during a fight?”

Buggy suddenly felt very small under the stare of Roger. His disappointment was evident on his face. A silent fury taking over his features, “But Captain,” Buggy pleaded, “Shanks got to fight!”

“Shanks was given my permission, Buggy, you were not.” Roger’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. Buggy, however, had always fought with his words and was not willing to back down.

“But it’s not fair! I’ve trained just as hard as he has.”

“But you’re not him, Buggy.” Roger spoke, and it cut into Buggy’s core. The words had been spoken a dozen times in not so many of ways. He had heard it from the rest of the crew. “The other one” they called him. Shanks and the other one. The prodigy and the other one. Roger’s protégé and the other one. Buggy was getting real sick and tired of being the other one. “Shanks is simply much further along than you are. It’s dangerous for you to be in battle.”

“I can defend myself—” He protested

Roger kicked the boot of the fallen marine, the one who had been so close to cleaving Buggy’s head clean off his shoulders. “Clearly you can’t since Shanks had to save you.”

“I knew he was there, Shanks just got to him first.” He growled, grumbling towards the ground, fists clenched by his side.

“Even so, it would have been too close a call. If Shanks hadn’t’ve been there—”

“Shanks? Shanks.  It’s always about Shanks. How far he’s gotten in his training! How capable his is with a sword! How well he does his chores, and he always always catches the biggest fish and he always says the right things and he always—”

“—That’s enough, Buggy.” Rayleigh cut in, hand on his shoulder from behind. The gesture just as much of a warning as his words, “I think it’s best if you go to your room for now, let the Captain and I discuss what happened here.”

“Tch” Buggy clicked his tongue, now staring at the ground. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted anyways.” He shook Rayleigh’s hand off his shoulder in a huff and stalked his way past his Captain, bumping shoulders with Shanks along the way.

“Buggy—” Shanks began, reaching his arm out to Buggy in an attempt to follow his now retreating brother. He looked as small as he felt, shoulders hunched, head down, and as he walked to his shared cabin, Buggy could feel the tears prickling at his eyes in embarrassment from his outburst. It wasn’t Shanks’ fault, and he knew that. Knew that Shanks hadn’t thought that anything bad would happen. Knew that Shanks was a stupid kid too who made mistakes. Knew in his heart of hearts that Shanks wasn’t to blame—it was himself. Always himself. If only he had been strong enough. If only he had trained harder. If only Roger had worked with him too, then maybe—maybe he’d be where Shanks was too.

“Shanks.” Roger called as a gentle reprimand, stopping Shanks from following.

Shanks turned to look his Captain in the eye. “Why’d you punish Buggy? It was me you should have been upset with. I’m the one who told him to sneak out."

Roger smiled, "Now, now Shanks. This wasn’t your fault. Buggy should have known better and should have listened when we told him to stay below deck. If anything, we should be thanking you.”

The confusion was evident across Shanks’ face, “Thanking me?”

“Of course!” Roger bellowed, “We felt what you did. Conqueror’s haki? You’ve been holding out on us.”

“Yeah, kid, who knew you had the will of a king?” One of the crewmembers who had gathered to the scene said.

“Well, I always knew.” Grinned Roger, ruffling Shanks’ hair.  “He had to inherit something from me after all.”

Shanks wiggled his way out of Roger’s grasp, “I’m adopted.”

“Technicalities.” Roger waved him off, “We should celebrate! Donquino grab the booze!”

Buggy just out of sight, pressed flush against the wall of the cabin, ear to the door. He stared straight ahead, letting the tears that had threatened to fall earlier now make their way down his face.

The next day Buggy saw Shanks wearing the hat again. Like a badge of honor around deck. A trophy of sorts in its own right. A mark of belonging and ownership. Buggy grew cold. The last time he saw Shanks in that hat, they had been fishing and the sun was unnaturally bright. He believed it to be a one-off thing—that Roger would loan Shanks his hat. But it’s not even sunny outside and Shanks is wearing the hat like a crown.

Buggy had left the cabin later than usual. Normally he’d be one of the first to wake as it was his job to rouse other members of the crew for breakfast. Today he stayed in his cabin, laying in the hammock, waiting for Shanks to leave. They hadn’t really spoken since the fight with the marines. At some point Shanks had come back to their cabin at night with a “You missed out on the party, Bugs.” To which Buggy replied that he wasn’t invited. He had instead laid looking out the porthole, watching the waves slowly crash against the ship to the sounds of cheering and music floating in from the main deck. It was patronizing. Buggy had never felt so low.

He snuck into the dining hall towards to end of breakfast, silently taking his seat at the table, not meeting eyes with anyone, not even Cook who placed a plate in front of him before pouring him a glass of orange juice. He ate slowly. The food, he was sure, was delicious as always, but it tasted like sand in his mouth. Shanks and he were supposed to be training today. Shanks with Roger as always and Buggy with Rayleigh. He wasn’t looking forward to it, especially since Shanks was apparently a conqueror, and that meant he’d be getting even more time with Roger learning to control his new power. And of course, Shanks was a conqueror. Why wouldn’t he be? He had to up step Buggy in everything.

He chewed and swallowed his food as if on autopilot, dreading the moment Rayleigh would send for him to come to practice. After yesterday, he didn’t want to face anyone, much less his Captain and the First Mate. They had become like his parents, and their disappointment in him, because what else would they be if not disappointed, was one of the worst things he could imagine. But this time he didn’t have to imagine, he just knew that they were.

“Buggy you’re finally up!” Rayleigh said by way of greeting, “Once you finish your food, come out onto the deck and we’ll begin for the day.”

Buggy felt the anxiety well up in his gut. After yesterday, after sneaking out into a full, real battle, he’d been doing some thinking. He just didn’t feel like he was cut out for battle like they were. He knew it intrinsically. He wasn’t made to fight with his body. He was a well-read kid, fought better with his words than he ever did his fists, and he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to fight anymore. At first, he wanted to be great like them. He wanted to be someone the world looked at and feared. He had spent ages dreaming about his first bounty, drawing fake posters with Shanks when they were younger and learning what it meant to be a pirate. He wanted to be flashy and bold and able to tussle with the best of them. Now, he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

“Rayleigh” Buggy began, unsure of really where to go from there, “Do you think maybe we could take a break from training for a while?”

Rayleigh stopped from where he had been heading to the door to the main deck. He turned and walked back towards Buggy, dropping into the seat across from him to give Buggy his undivided attention. “What brought this on, kiddo?”

“Well, I just….” Buggy stared at the wood grain in the table, tracing the swirling patterns with his eyes. “I don’t think I want to fight anymore. Maybe…maybe I could just do my chores? Or help out on more lookouts so I’m not so much of a burden. And I could—”

“You are not a burden, Buggy.” Rayleigh cut in, “I never want to hear you say that again, is that clear?”

Buggy looked up at him uncertain, but nodded in response knowing that Rayleigh wouldn’t let it go until he did.  “Now what brought this on?” Rayleigh asked, his eyes soft and kind, and somewhat knowing.

“I just, I know I’m never going to be like you guys. I just don’t have it in me. I think it’d be better if I got off the ship.”

“Buggy, we know you’re not like us.” Rayleigh began, and Buggy felt his heart in his throat. “We don’t want you to be like us. We want you to be your own person, and if you think that fighting isn’t for you, then we’ll try something else. How does learning navigation sound?”

Navigation? That…that sounded okay actually. Any pirate worth their salt had to know how to navigate, and Buggy liked to read. Maybe he could learn cartography too. He always liked maps. Treasure maps were his favorite as they held that sense of adventure with the lure of wealth and riches. Besides, Shanks knew nothing about navigation other than his uncanny ability to tell when a storm was brewing, but Buggy had gotten a lot better at that too now since he had been living on the sea for years.

Buggy bit his lip in consideration, giving it a bit more thought. Being a pirate was more than fighting and conquering and pillaging and battles with the marines. There were a lot of things to consider. Food reserves, budgeting, navigation. Skills that made a pirate more than anything. Maybe he could become the best at something. Maybe he could finally be better than Shanks. Maybe then Captain would acknowledge him again.

“Yeah okay.” Buggy said, and that was confirmation enough for Rayleigh.

He raised from his seat at the table and ruffled Buggy’s hair, “I’ll talk to Sunbell then. I’m sure he’ll be glad to have an apprentice!”

Buggy threw himself into his studies, soaking up the charts like a sponge. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about charting, about how to use the stars as a guide, about how and why the log poses worked. He wanted to make Roger proud. But Roger didn’t seem to pay him much mind. He was instead constantly found with Shanks, praising him on his progress, letting other members of the crew play victim to their haki training. Buggy watched from the window of the navigation room and went back to charting an island they visited a few months back. Sunbell had trusted him enough to try and form his own maps, and while they were rough and had some ink splotches from where he let the pen sit for too long trying to get the angle just right, they were his and he was getting better every day. Shanks also avoided the navigation room, which was a plus because recently anytime Buggy had to see his face hidden beneath that stupid, yellowing brim, he wanted to smash his face in.

It wasn’t the coolest island they’ve been to, in fact it was rather unassuming, and it was collectively decided they’d move on to a bigger one as soon as the log pose set to stock up on some more items that this island didn’t have. Three days they’d be stuck, and Shanks and Buggy had been pretty much kicked off the ship to spend some time exploring the town. “It will do you some good to be on some land for a while” Roger had said, which really meant that the rest of the crew were either discussing some things the boys weren’t allowed to know about, or there was going to be a big day of drinking ahead for the crew and they didn’t want to subject the kids to such a display. Why they tried to protect them like that was anyone’s guess. They were growing up on the pirate ship of quite frankly a monster in his own right and they’d been exposed to some things that would make even a grown man cry, so heavy day drinking didn’t seem that bad by comparison. But they had been kicked off the ship for one reason or another and Buggy was going to make the most of it. He saw a bookstore from the docks and decided that was his first point of destination.

“What do you wanna do, Bugs? I think they’re having some kind of market right now with all those stalls. Wanna check it out?” Shanks asked from where he had been keeping pace with Buggy.

Buggy scoffed, “I don’t care what you do, but I’m going to the bookstore.”

“The bookstore?” Shanks scrunched his nose in a mimicry of repulsion, “Don’t you have enough books already?”

“Someone like you wouldn’t understand the value of the written word.”

Shanks gaped, “I take offense to that!”

“Good.” Buggy clipped.

“Okay fine,” Shanks slammed his fist down in his other hand like he had had an epiphany, “We can go to the bookstore, then after we go to the market!”

Buggy stopped on his place on the docks, turning to look at Shanks (and that stupid, stupid hat). “No. I’m going to the bookstore. You’re not invited.” He turned and continued walking into town, ignoring Shanks’ calling for him.

“Come on, Bugs, don’t be like that.” Shanks reached out to grab Buggy on the shoulder. “Brother, if you’re upset about something—”

Buggy shook the hand off his shoulder gritting out, “Don’t call me that. You’re not my brother” before walking away, not turning back to see the hurt expression he knew would be there on Shanks’ face. He tried to ignore the gentle nagging in his brain to turn around and apologize, it wouldn’t do him any good anyways.

The bookstore was quaint, but had some pieces that were unusually rare for the area of the grandline they were in. He was hovering his hand over one of what looked like a first edition of Chouler’s Guide to the Ends of the World when a voice called out to him from over his shoulder, causing him to jump a bit in surprise—not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. “You’ve got a good eye. That one there’s a special edition.”

The man’s voice as gritty, like he rarely spoke and when he did his voice wasn’t used to the effort. His hair was greying from what once looked like a stunning shade of copper, and his grey eyes were hidden behind simple silver frames. All in all he looked pretty unassuming, just like the island he resided in.

“What’s so special about it?” Buggy found himself asking.

“That one there has got a treasure map in it that’s supposed to show you where an ancient civilization sank beneath the seas, taking all it’s riches and knowledge with it.”

“Under the sea?” Buggy asked, intrigued by the tale.

The man looked confused, as if he were doubting what he said at Buggy’s question, “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Buggy ignored the man, finding himself drawn to the book even more now. He was going to buy it anyways, as a first edition like this was hard to find and would make a good piece in his collection, besides he was learning cartography and any maps he could get his hands on were good practice. “How much?”

“Take it. That book’s been sitting here for ages, I’m sure it’d be in much better hands with you.”

“Really?” The man nodded, “Gee thanks.”

They had left the island as soon as they could, a few extra supplies heavier, on their way to the next adventure, which for the Roger pirates happened to be another pirate crew wanting to try their hand at bringing down theirs. Buggy didn’t have to be told to stay below deck this time, he learned his lesson last time and he knew his place. Shanks was out there fighting with the crew again, and Buggy watched as he took down three men twice his size with a flick of his sword. It hurt, of course, seeing what he could have been if only Roger decided to give Buggy some of his time, but Buggy had a new plan, and Shanks wasn’t a part of it.

The map had been something that hadn’t left Buggy’s mind. He knew it was probably some stupid fairytale, but being on the crew made him start to believe in the impossible.

This map could be his chance. His chance to show Roger how far he had come. He’d marvel at Buggy’s skills in navigating them to a lost civilization, to another adventure for the crew. They’d get all the treasure for themselves, and they’d throw him a party in his honor. He’d be Buggy the Great for once instead of Buggy the Other One.

The sounds of fighting from the deck had dulled and then eventually stopped. Buggy looked out the window again from where he had been examining his golden ticket and noticed the crew disposing of the bodies over the side of the ship. The remaining few that were still alive had taken off with what was left of their ship. Roger must have decided that it wasn’t worth it to chase after, besides the living are what spread news, and the bigger the name the Roger pirates made for themselves the happier Roger seemed to become.

Buggy made his way out to the deck to see what treasures his crewmates obtained during the raid. There was a treasure chest that was calling Buggy’s name.

“There you are Buggy” Shanks grinned, “You missed out on all the fun.”

“Once again, Shanks. I wasn’t invited.” He turned towards the treasure chest that had caught his eye earlier. It was pretty basic, nothing special that would signify any importance, but Buggy was intrigued by it still. It almost seemed to call to him. “What’s in this one?” Buggy asked to no one in particular, pointing at the chest.

“Oh that? Not sure, but it doesn’t seem like much of anything.” Gaban answered. He was occupied with the rest of the crew divvying up the riches and jewels they had found in the enemy ship’s cargo hold.

“Can I open it?” Buggy asked

“Go ahead, you can have it if you want.” Rayleigh had come over to see what had gotten Buggy’s attention, seeing that it was in fact a very unassuming chest, and decided Buggy needed a little cheering up since he wasn’t allowed to partake in battle with the rest of the crew.

“Really?”

Rayleigh nodded at him, “Sure! Think of it as a reward for working so hard with Sunbell.”

“Thanks!” Buggy grabbed the chest, finding it to be light for something that was supposed to be filled with treasure, and went back to his room.

It took him a few tries to pry it open, using one of his knives to pick the lock. Inside, the contents left more to be desired. Sitting in the simple wood of the chest was a maroonish oval-shaped fruit, composed of small, spherical parts with swirls, and green leafage sprouting from the top. Buggy sat back on his heels from where he had been kneeling to open his prize and felt disappointed. A fruit. A weird looking fruit, but a fruit nonetheless. It could have been from any number of islands, so who knew where it came from, and why they would put a fruit in a chest was anyone’s guess. Sighing, he went to shut the lid of the chest when he heard Shanks speak up from behind him.

“Whatcha got there?” Buggy jumped. He hated it when Shanks snuck up on him, and Shanks knew it too, which is why it was one of his favorite activities, trying to see how high he could make Buggy jump in surprise.

“None of your business.” He shut the lid down quickly, not wanting Shanks to see his treasure.

“Looked like a devil fruit to me.” Shanks said

Buggy took the bait, “A devil fruit?”

“Hmm you don’t know?” I’m surprised, we’ve met quite a few people with devil fruit abilities before, but I can’t say I’ve seen one up close. Crocus has a book on them if you want to know more.”

“Crocus does?” Buggy had read almost every book on the ship. Crocus was a newer member and Buggy hadn’t spent a lot of time with him, besides most of the books Buggy saw him bring aboard were stuffy medical texts. How Shanks knew of this book was a mystery to him.

“Mmmhmm I’m sure he’d let you borrow it. But Buggy you’re lucky! Devil fruits can be sold for a lot of money. You’d be rich if you sold it.”

Buggy, ever the treasure chaser, perked up at that. “How much do you think I could get for it? It’s just some stupid fruit, right?”

Shanks whistled a sharp tune, “Wow you really don’t know! Devil fruits give the person who eats it powers. They’re pretty rare, well more common in the grandline, but they can fetch hundreds of millions to the right buyer.”

“How do you know so much?”

“I’ve grown up on the seas, seen a lot of things.” Shanks deflected, “I also read the book.”

Buggy gaped “You? Reading?”

“Hey I do it sometimes!” Shanks defended. “I just don’t devote my entire life to words on a page like you.”

“You never were one to appreciate a higher education.” Buggy mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Shanks shrugged, unbothered by Buggy’s avoidance, “Well anyways, I don’t care what you do with the fruit. I won’t tell anyone about it either, or else they might make you give it up to the crew. If you sell it though, I want a cut as payment for keeping this a secret.”

Buggy scoffed, “Like I’d pay you anything.”

“Sure you will!” Shanks grinned

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

Shanks grinned even wider than before, “Because we’re brothers!”

“We’re not brothers.” Buggy grumbled

Shanks brushed it off, “Yeah yeah whatever you say.” He said with a wave.

“What did you come here for anyways?” Buggy questioned, “Just to annoy me?”

Shanks shrugged, “No, that was just a bonus. I just came to tell you dinner is ready.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Buggy rolled his eyes, “Try not to eat everything before I get there.”

“No promises!” He shouted as he ran out the door.

That night Buggy brought the fruit with him on watch. He didn’t really want to leave it in the cabin where anyone could get to it. It was his treasure after all. He sat in one of the lifeboats where he usually sat during night watches. It wasn’t the view that the crow’s nest had, but there was a chill in the air tonight and the walls of the dinghy kept the breeze away. He brought his map with him too. It hadn’t left his side since he had gotten it. He was studying his map, with the devil fruit in his hand when Shanks appeared out of nowhere.

“Whatcha got there Buggy?” And Buggy, in a panic, because of course Shanks of all people would sneak up on him—he always liked making Buggy jump—shoved the devil fruit in his mouth in reflex to hide it, releasing his grip on the map in his hand, causing it to fly out into the open ocean. Buggy saw his chance of glory being ripped away from his grasp by the sea itself. Without much time to think, Buggy swallowed and jumped after the map.

“Buggy wait!” He heard Shanks calling to him, but it was too late. Buggy went headfirst into the water, the cold biting at his skin. He wasn’t worried, he was a good swimmer, you had to be if you were a pirate, and it was one of the first things he learned to do when he came aboard the Oro Jackson. He went to kick and realized he couldn’t. He went to tread with his arms and found they were useless. His eyes were open and he realized quickly that the light of the moon in the sky was growing further and further away. His breath was desperately getting harder to hold, and he was sinking down lower and lower. He felt weak. This is it, he thought, I’m going to die.

He was gasping for air, coughing and turning onto his side to hack up the water in his lungs. As he came to, he could hear the commotion on the deck around him, voices calling out to him asking if he was alright. He opened his eyes, ignoring the burning of the salt in them, and saw the familiar black boots that belonged to his captain.

“Have a nice swim, Buggy?” Roger quirked an eyebrow at him from above.

Buggy deigned an answer, well really, he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re lucky Shanks was there to call for help before he dove in after you. You almost drowned.”

And of course it was Shanks who saved him. Buggy would have rather he let him drown, if only so he didn’t have to face the crew like this. Still Buggy didn’t speak.

“He let us know what happened. Why didn’t you tell us you had a devil fruit?”

“I…” Buggy didn’t know what Roger wanted him to say. He had kept a secret from the crew, one that could have brought them undeniable wealth. One that he should have brought forward when he opened that chest. He shouldn’t’ve kept it a secret.

“I think we’ve had enough fun for one night. Why don’t you boys get dried up and get some rest. We’ll discuss this some more in the morning.” Rayleigh had come forward. He always knew how to diffuse a situation, and Buggy would be eternally grateful for him, “Come on,” he said, reaching his hand out towards Buggy to help him up, “It’s been a long night, wouldn’t you agree?”

Buggy nodded and let out a weak, “Yeah,” before grasping the hand reaching out to him. It was firm and steady and it pulled him to a standing position, or well—it would have, if it weren’t for the fact that Buggy’s hand seemingly separated from his body. His eyes went wide as he stared at his hand that he could still feel in Rayleigh’s grasp. For Rayleigh’s sake, he didn’t seem that shaken up. Instead he seemed interested in the phenomenon happening in front of him.

“Well then,” He said, “Guess we now know what your fruit does.”

 Buggy gaped, still shaken at the fact that his hand was no longer attached to his body.

“Ah that looks like the powers of the Bara Bara no mi.” Crocus spoke up. “It’s a paramecia that gives the user the ability to split their body into pieces and control them at will. It also makes the user immune to cutting attacks.”

“So you’re saying he can’t be cut by a sword? Cool!” Shanks was wide-eyed with excitement. Clearly, he didn’t see any issue with the circumstances that led to this moment. Buggy thought it irritating. He wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for Shanks. Shanks was the one who told Buggy to hide the fruit in the first place. Shanks was the one to sneak up on him and scare him into hiding it in his mouth. Shanks was the one who made him swallow. Shanks was the one who caused his map to take off into the sea. Shanks Shanks Shanks. Always Shanks.

“Cool?!” Buggy began. “Cool? You think this is cool? I’m a freak because of you. I wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for your butting into my business where I don’t want you!”

“Buggy come on, it was an accident.” Shanks started, but Buggy didn’t have any patience for his nonchalance this time.

“Yeah sure. An accident. Why can you never take the blame for anything? It’s always someone else’s  fault and it always ends up being mine!”

“Brother—” Shanks began.

Buggy growled, “Don’t ‘brother’ me! We’re NOT brothers. In fact we’re not even friends. I don’t want anything to do with you!”

“Buggy!” Roger’s voice called out. “That’s enough.”

Buggy glared up at his captain from beneath his still dripping hair. He grabbed his hand back from Rayleigh and shoved it back onto his wrist hoping it would connect just as easily as it came off. Satisfied that it would stay in its respective place, he turned away from the crew that had gathered at the commotion and stalked off towards his chambers. He didn’t want to look at any of them. He knew they probably saw him as some stupid kid. He knew he’d never be one of them, and tonight would just ostracize him even more. Shanks would be getting a pat on the back for fishing poor, helpless, trouble causing Buggy out of the water, and Buggy would become even more of a burden. What good was a pirate that couldn’t even swim?

He locked the door behind him, finding refuge in the darkness of the cabin. He knew that Shanks would have to come in at some point, but he didn’t care. He kept the door locked anyways. Shanks could figure something else out for the night. Maybe he’d even get to sleep with the rest of the crew since he was so much like them. Buggy slid to the ground from where his back was pressed against the door ignoring his wet clothes and shut his eyes. He didn’t know when he began to cry until he was sobbing big heaving gasps. He raised his hand to his mouth to muffle the cries and thoughts began to swirl in his head. Tomorrow he’d have to face the crew again, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted nothing more to do with him. They’d probably leave him at the next island. That’d be okay. He can fend for himself. He’s done it before, and he’d do it again.

After what seemed like an eternity, although was probably closer to around twenety minutes, Buggy pulled himself up from the floor and threw off his still dripping clothes. They were cold and starting to itch from the salt. He lazily put on some dry ones to sleep in and crawled into his hammock. Tomorrow he’d have to face the repercussions from the crew. Until then, he’d wish for a dreamless sleep.

They didn’t let him off at the next island like he thought they would. Or the next. Or the one after that. Sunbell and Rayleigh told him it’s because he’s part of the crew, and being part of the crew meant being family, but Buggy didn’t feel much like family anymore. Instead, he felt like that useless kid that everyone forgot about back in his hometown. They got further and further into the grandline. Buggy thought it was a bit odd that they seemed to be speed running it now, but he wasn’t the Captain and he didn’t make the calls. It just meant that he and Sunbell had their work cut out for them in the navigation room as they jumped from island to island.

Crocus had been seen around Roger more often than not, and maybe Buggy should have been more worried about that fact, but Roger still fought his battles strong and steady like always, so Buggy paid him no mind. Shanks still trained with Roger, and he still wore that stupid hat.  Days dragged on, and Buggy improved in his charting and cartography with every island. Roger still didn’t pay him much mind, but Rayleigh praised each map that he drew, and Buggy told himself that it was enough.

Soon enough they were nearing the end, and Buggy started to come down with something, and it was determined he wasn’t well enough to make the trip to the last island. Buggy fought them all on it. He wanted to see this place that no one else had seen before. He wanted to chart it with Sunbell and be the first to measure its boarders. He wanted to make a name for himself with his maps, and what better way to do it than to chart the uncharted?

But Roger insisted he stay behind. They didn’t know what lurked for them at the last island, and Buggy knew in his heart of hearts that he would only get in the way if he stayed on board, so it was decided he’d stay on Lodestar. Crocus had volunteered to stay with him, and that comforted Buggy in knowing that he wouldn’t be alone, and that ultimately, they’d come back for him instead of leaving him like he always thought they would. The surprising thing was that Shanks also decided to stay behind with him too, claiming that if Buggy couldn’t go then he didn’t want to go. It was stupid and childish, but Buggy couldn’t find it in him to deny Shanks this because he didn’t want Shanks to have another reason to upstage him by going to the last island with the rest of them.

The days that followed were slow, Buggy drifting in and out of consciousness as Crocus and Shanks took turns tending to his bedside. And when the Roger pirates returned for them, it was to the announcement of Roger’s disbanding of the crew.

“You can’t be serious?”  Buggy asked incredulously

“I’ve made my decision, I’m turning myself in. My time has come.”

At first, Buggy couldn’t believe it. Roger disbanding the crew was unfathomable. The crew, while they did seem to favor Shanks over him, was his home. He didn’t know what he would do without them. Didn’t know what his days would look like if he wasn’t waking up on the Oro Jackson. Buggy wanted to scream. Wanted to run up to Roger and punch his face in. At the same time he wanted Roger to ruffle his hair and keep leading them on adventures together until he was old enough to set out on his own with his own crew. As much as it sometimes didn’t feel like it, he was a Roger pirate goddammnit, and how could he be a Roger pirate without the crew?

The reality hit him at Logue Town. The reality that this was really happening. His captain was going to be executed, and Roger was just going to let them. Buggy knew he wasn’t supposed to be here. When Roger announced the disbandment of the crew he had expressly forbidden them all from attending his execution—as he was sure there would be one. Captain’s orders Roger had said, and well—Buggy had never been really good at following orders. So, there he was, standing much further away than he had wanted, as he risked being seen by Roger if he were closer, and he didn’t think being on the receiving end of those disappointed eyes one last time sounded very thrilling. But he was there nonetheless, and he was about to witness the death of the man who had given him a new life. The death of a man who had seen a helpless child and taken him in. The death of a man who had provided Buggy a family. But also the death of a man who had grown distant. The death of a man who Buggy sought constant approval from. His being there felt bittersweet.

“Couldn’t follow orders could you?”

“Huh?” Buggy jumped at the voice from over his right shoulder.  He turned his head and caught an aggravatingly familiar yellow brim, striking red hair in contrast beneath it. Of course it was Shanks. Always Shanks.

Buggy turned back to the execution platform, not wanting to miss any more than he had at the interruption. “I only take orders from my Captain,” Buggy started in an effort to save face, “He stopped being my Captain the day he disbanded the crew.”

“So that’s how it is.” Shanks’ eyes gleamed at Buggy from under the hat in mirth, but he kept quiet so Buggy just ignored him.

Just as the spears were about to be plunged into Roger’s chest by the executioners, a voice called out from the crowd loud above the rest. Buggy missed what it said, but Roger clearly hadn’t as he responded in stride.

“You want my treasure?” Roger asked, seemingly amused by the question, “I left everything I gathered together in one place. Now you just have to find it!” And with that the spears found their target, sending the crowd into an uproar. Buggy stared on in silence letting the cheers turn into static.

“Come with me.” Shanks said, breaking the roar of the civilians around them. “Come with me, Buggy. We’ll start our own crew, and we’ll do what we want, and we’ll get huge bounties, and we’ll live as captain wanted us to.”

“Shanks.” Buggy started, now knowing what he wanted to do. He had been at an impasse for weeks now, since Roger’s announcement of disbandment and subsequent “capture” by the marines. While Buggy awaited the execution like the sword of Damocles hanging over his head, he sat and stirred in his thoughts. He wondered what he would do. Would he settle down on some island and make a life as a fisherman? Would he join another crew and try his hand at navigation? Would he hunt down Rayleigh and beg to stay with him?  What would he do now that he was out from the protection of the Roger Pirates?

Shanks broke through his thoughts, “Come on Buggy, what do ya say?” Buggy turned to look at Shanks, really look at him. He looked…small. Buggy thought. And tired. He had bags under his eyes and a slouch to his shoulders. The hat which Buggy had slowly started to associate with Shanks instead of Roger hung low in his face. And Buggy was suddenly struck with the thought that Shanks had just watched the man who had raised him from infancy die, and the crew that had been his home for the entirety of the thirteen years of his life were suddenly gone. Buggy swallowed and spoke.

“Shanks. I’m not going with you.” Buggy’s voice was low but sure, steady in its decision.

Shanks’ face fell from its hopeful gleam into one nearing on defeat, “Where will you go?”

Buggy hummed, “I think I’ll stay here in the East. I hear it’s quiet. I need a break after all---.” He gestured vaguely to the surrounding area.

Shanks stood up taller, seeing an opportunity, “Can I come with you?”

Buggy shook his head, “We both know you don’t belong here.”

“Buggy I can’t do this without you.” It was pitiful, even to Shanks’ own ears, but he said it anyways—if asking didn’t work maybe guilt would. And pity him Buggy did, but it wasn’t enough to change his mind. Shanks belonged on the sea. He belonged in the crazy unpredictability of the grandline. He thrived in the spontaneity and the strength. He’d be wasted in the blues.

“You can and you will.” Buggy said, pointing a finger in the middle of Shanks’ chest, “Captain trained you himself, didn’t he? He gave you the hat, not me. You’ll be fine.”

“Buggy.” Shanks tried to protest, but Buggy was already walking away, dispersing into the crowd. He turned back around and called out, “I’d say keep in touch, but quite frankly I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He felt free. Walking away from Shanks, not turning to look back, he realized he could do whatever he wanted. What was that Shanks had said about making their own crew? That sounded actually kind of nice. He’d find some men, make his own crew, become a better Captain than his—one who would treat everyone equally and with dignity. He’d gather up the misfits and give them a home. He’d study his maps, learn more about navigating and running a crew. He would show everyone that he was more than Buggy the other one. And it started, as all good stories do, in the East Blue.