Chapter Text
The very first thing she remembered was round and yellow. There was a very bright light around it, and the thing talked. It had a nice voice. She liked it. She liked the round yellow thing with the nice kind voice.
She was just starting to learn her words back then. The second word she had ever learned was "sky," and as she said it, she pointed at the windy blue sky, and everyone praised her. Some clapped — she knew that meant she did very well, so she was very proud.
Then she learned "sea," and said the word, pointing down below. The big round man was holding her, looking over the railings, and he was soft and warm, and the new word she learned was as round and wide as him. She decided she liked it.
Then she learned the word "sun," and she pointed at the yellow thing with the nice kind voice; and everyone laughed.
Why did they laugh?! She said nothing wrong! The thing was round, and it was yellow, and backlit with the brightest light. The thing was the sun, no doubt about that! And the laughing idiots were all just dumb, dumb, dumb!
She stuck out her tongue at them. The sun smiled at her, and petted her hair, the way only he could.
His hands were just as rough as any of the sailors on their ship — ship, the fifth word she learned — and he could be silly and funny, and so very awkward, especially when he got drunk. But somehow, the sun's hands were special. They held her the way no other hands ever did. When the sun picked her up, pressing her to the tanned skin on his hard, wide chest — so wide in his open shirt he never washed often enough — she just felt so safe.
She had never felt unsafe in her life. On this ship, with these people, she knew no one could ever hurt her. She was everyone's darling princess. She got all the sweets and dresses she wanted. When she fell down and hurt her knee, Hongo was always there to blow on the ouchie and put on a pretty pink plaster with flowers and sparkles, and Lucky Roo'd always make her all her favorite dishes to uplift her mood, till she was so full she could barely breathe.
But somehow, with her Sun — who insisted he was called Shanks — she felt invincible.
The first word she had ever learned wasn't that strange — or so Shanks said. Yasopp blathered how his son's first word was dadda, and some others said it was normally mama or something, but Shanks kicked all their butts and said Uta's first word was excellent, and perfectly fitting in all ways.
The first word she had ever said was —
Song.
Her own name.
Shanks said it was only right. He said she began to sing long before she could talk, and Uta believed him. She believed all the people around her because they were family — her nakama — but Shanks was Shanks. He might not be the actual real sun, as it sadly turned out — but that was just because he was so much more. He was the world's beginning and continuation.
Sometimes, Uta wondered if she should call him dad. She knew other children did, and Shanks was her dad, right? But — he was so much more than that. Shanks was like all the seas, and the sky, and the sun, and every song in the world, all enfleshed in one silly man with the widest smile, in an old straw hat.
So she never called him just dad. That would be like — like calling sea water. Or calling a rose a bush. Or calling a song just sound.
Anything could be sound: Roo's belches, Yasopp's muffled swearing, dogs barking when they came to Foosha, chicken sizzling as Makino fried some for Uta's little games with Luffy… But song — song was not just sound.
Song was sound infused with magic.
Song was a voice carrying dreams. Song was what Uta thought of when people said the word love.
She didn't quite understand it, that word, but Shanks always said she had a heart as deep as the ocean. Her heart knew more than her head, he said, and that was why Uta's voice could always make others' hearts cry and laugh.
Love… One of people's favorite words.
So big and mysterious, like the ocean. She saw some of it, and she knew how it looked, how it tasted, and how it could shine. But she didn't know how deep it reached, and what lurked beneath the bright sunny ripples.
All she knew that… when she heard love, she thought song.
(Song first.
Shanks second.
Then, Luffy.)
Shanks was love and sea and sky and sun in an old straw hat. He could never be simply dad. Other kids had dads — very regular dads who lived very regular lives, and who weren't pirates on the open sea.
Shanks was too big for dad. Shanks was too big for the whole wide world. In his arms, nothing and no one could ever hurt her, or make her sad.
Shanks was her world — her smiling, laughing world in an old straw hat who sang so atrociously that she always asked him for more.
Was that — love…?
There was the funniest thing Shanks told her once.
He said normally, when there was a dad, he first got himself a mom. They fell in love, and made a life together. Then, a little girl came into the world, born from that love itself.
Or a boy, but whatever! Uta was a girl, and everyone on the ship said she was the prettiest girl in the world, and gave her dresses and flowers, and braided her hair so cutely, and brought her the loveliest gems to play with, and to wear in her hair, on her neck and hands, in her ears, on her fingers, and even her ankles — wherever she wanted. Shanks and the others all said she could have whatever she wished for, and that she was their little princess, so when Shanks was talking about dads and kids, he was obviously talking about him and her.
Then, he explained how Uta was special. She didn't come into this world because Shanks wanted to be a dad and found himself a mom to create an Uta. Even in how she came to be Shanks' little princess, she was unique.
She was, Shanks told her, found in a treasure chest, when she was about two years old, and already the cutest baby there could ever be. He found her himself, cozily snuggled on a soft satin pillow over all sorts of piled gems and treasure — like she was a gift sent by fate itself.
"That's why you're my treasure, my little Song," he'd tell her. "A pirate finds his treasure, a pirate keeps his treasure!"
And he'd press his treasure close to his chest, and sing her a little song, and he couldn't ever stay in key, but she didn't even mind.
"Why am I Song?" she asked him once.
He gave her a mysterious smile.
"Do you want just the facts, or the real honest truth?" he asked.
"Both!" Uta demanded, because she always got what she wanted.
Shanks laughed, and she thought he had lied back then. His face was the sun — or at least, the real sun in the sky for sure had nothing on her Shanks' smile.
"Well, the facts are," he mused, "that I only found you in that chest because you started crying. You were being so noisy — just the way you're now, ha ha ha!" he guffawed. Uta hit him on the arm for being rude. "And you just wouldn't stop crying… we tried all sorts of things to calm you down some, and nothing worked. But when I sang for you… you started laughing. And then," he lowered his voice to a secretive whisper, "I saw you were the cutest girl in the world! Did you know there's no one cuter than you when you laugh, little Song?"
"I do," Uta bragged. Of course she knew! Everyone said she was the cutest! Except Luffy, but Luffy was dumb, so she'd often hit him on his dumb shaggy head for being so dumb.
(Somehow, she really wanted him to tell her how she was cute. But he only ever talked about meat, adventures, and rhinoceros beetles. Honestly, he was so — so — stupid!)
"Well, there are your facts. You're Song, because when I first met you, I sang you a song."
"One off-key song it must have been," Uta giggled.
"Well, can't argue there," Shanks chuckled. "But, the fact is — the very first time I saw you, I sang you a song, and that was the first time you laughed for me. And — somehow, I thought I really wanted you to laugh, always. So I named you Song, so you could always laugh."
"That's silly," Uta giggled.
"Silly or not, those are the facts," Shanks shrugged with a broad smile of his own.
"Right! You said there were the facts, and then there was the real actual truth about my name! Tell me!" Uta demanded.
"We~ll," Shanks drawled mysteriously, "do you know, my little Song, who's the most important person on a pirate crew?"
"Hmph!" What a dumb question. "You are!"
"The captain, you mean."
"Yeah, well, whatever!"
"Wrong!" Shanks stuck out his tongue.
"Am not!" She wanted to stomp her foot, but she was pressed into his chest, so she pulled his nose instead.
"Are too! C'mon, little Song, I'm the captain of an actual real pirate crew. Have some faith in my word, will you?"
Uta pouted, but what he said was reasonable.
"Hmm… the first mate?"
"Nuh-uh."
"The cook?"
"Nah."
"The doctor?"
"Close enough, but nope!"
"You're lying, aren't you?" Uta suspected. There was no way someone could be more important than a captain or a cook.
Shanks gave her a smile. Or rather, The Smile — the kind no waves of time could ever wash out of her memory.
"It's the musician, you know," he whispered mysteriously. "There's just no sailing without singing."
"Why…?" She loved singing and everything, but dinner was sort of — important.
"Because," he petted her hair, undone for once and already so long, and played with it, like a cat with a string, "because the sea is so vast. It's much vaster than anything you or I can imagine, my little Song. And in that endless blue, all the islands are but small specks of land… and the ships are just tiny dots, so easy to crush by a random storm… lost in eternal, boundless blue. The sea is mighty, my love, do you know that? No warrior, no king, no Fruit could ever win over the sea. It's immense enough to eat up all of humankind, like you eat up your chicken. It's a power far greater any man could contend with. If there are any gods, they would bow to the sea. And we sailors, we're just a small bunch of weak mortal men — "
"Shanks isn't weak!" Uta protested.
"For a man, yes. But to the sea, I'm but a small grain of sand. So easily washed away… along with the handful of sand grains I call my crew. But still we set sail on our little husk of a ship, to contend with that everlasting, invincible might… and we might have food with us, and some drinking water, and some good rum to cheer up our spirits — but deep inside, we still know: we're just a few small men, all alone in the endless ocean. We can challenge men, and we can challenge fate, but the ocean is the All-Mother. She gives life and takes life, and in front of her, we're all small and helpless."
For the first time in Shanks' embrace, Uta felt scared.
So she scowled and demanded:
"What does that have to do with my name?"
"Your name," Shanks smiled again, and seeing that smile felt like falling down in a field of flowers. "Your name, my Song, is the only thing that can chase the fear away. When we sailors sing, all together, we aren't alone in the endless sea, with nothing but blue around us for months and years. Our song is our bond. Our song is our shield against sadness and sorrow. When we sing, our routine work feels half as boring, and half as hard. And when we remember the lands we've seen… the women we've loved… the places we grew up… and we can't breathe for the longing, and our blue hearts escape there, hundreds and thousands of kilometers away from our little ship… we sing a song, and we all sing along."
And for a moment, Shanks was silent, like he was thinking of something or someone… hundreds and thousands of kilometers away.
But then, he smiled again, and his smile chased away all the clouds of Uta's worry and sadness.
"And with our song, the sorrow passes," he murmured, "and we smile again… and once again, we believe that the path we chose is the right one."
Uta pressed closer to Shanks, where she could feel his heart beat so steadily under the tanned skin and hard muscle of his chest.
She didn't think she understood all of what Shanks just said — but somehow, she felt it, deep in her heart.
"So there's your answer, my little Song," he softly, so softly petted her hair, loose and falling down to her waist. "You make me smile. You make me laugh and have so much fun, and you make me so happy… that's what music is for, you know: to make people happy when they are sad. So… the fact is I named you Song just because when I met you, I sang for you — but the truth is you chase my sadness away, just by being there. That's why you're my Song. This name is just right for you… even if you never turned out to be such a beautiful singer, you'd still be my Song. Remember that, always."
"Always," Uta whispered, entranced.
"My little girl," Shanks briefly pressed his lips to her forehead, and she squealed and squirmed: his bristle was prickly. "My little treasure. You came to me in a chest full of gold and gems, but among them all, you were the only treasure that mattered."
"If I'm your treasure," Uta demanded, "then promise you'll always keep me in your chest!"
"Nope," Shanks stuck out his tongue, "no can do."
"Why…?" Uta's eyes went blurry. Did — did Shanks not want her or what…? But, but it couldn't be…
Meanwhile, Shanks slapped his hand to his face.
"Damn, I'm dumb," he said, muffled. "Sorry, sorry, don't cry!"
Uta wasn't crying! Her face was just getting wet, and her nose was getting so snotty she couldn't breathe right, but she was a big girl! She didn't cry!
"What I meant was," Shanks hurried, "is that you're already here," he took her little white hand with his huge tan palm, and pressed it tight to his chest, right where his heart was beating so steadily. The most comforting beat in the world. "You've been here since the first day I opened that chest, and first laid my eyes on you. You've been there since your first smile, your first laugh. You've always been there, my treasure, in this very chest. You'll grow up to become a beautiful woman, and a singer the whole world will love, and you'll find love of your own, and you'll have children, and you'll grow old and gray, and you'll still be my treasure, for as long as I live."
Uta sobbed. Crying was for small girls, but she didn't even care right now.
"Hear this?" Shanks smiled, pressing her hand to his heartbeat. "It's all yours, my treasure. For any song you will want to write, you can have this beat."
Uta bawled, but Shanks didn't say it wasn't okay for a big girl like her, so she blubbed some more.
…
There was a thing she told her two favorite people, who were somehow so alike: both so funny and flighty, with their smiles so bright.
A pirate, she knew, should have a dream to strive for. Something Important, as big as the sea. People might say that this or that dream was impossible, but it didn't matter: for a real, true pirate, impossible was nothing.
So to Uta's two favorite people, she told her dream. One of them, anyway — because there were two dreams Uta had in her life.
The first dream, she'd tell anyone who would hear her, loud and clear. She wanted to travel the world, and make so many songs, both happy and sad, and sing them all for the people: to tell them they weren't alone in their sorrow, and to raise them up on the wings of her voice when they were down in the dumps.
She was cute, she knew that, and she'd grow up to be such a beautiful woman in time — everyone on the crew always said that — and her nakama would give her all the jewels and silks, so she'd look her best; and the rest, she already had.
No one needed to give her what had always been in her heart.
She was born for the stage, to dance and to sing and to make people happy. She didn't know who birthed her — and what did it matter? Her father was Shanks anyway — but she well knew why she was born, and what she lived for… and what she would die for, if she ever had to.
Being a pirate meant being always ready to die, from a Marine attack or a random skirmish with another crew. And being a pirate on the Red Hair Crew meant having a dream.
So Uta had a dream of her own — a dream she would die for. Wasn't that the happiest a person could live?
And Uta was Red-Haired Shanks' daughter — so that meant her dream would be coming true, come hell or high water…
(With her Shanks by her side, to hear her sing.
This wasn't a dream: this was a given. She was staying by Shanks' side forever, because there was no way they'd ever part.)
…
The second dream… the silly, embarrassing dream that she never told anyone… was — ugh. Even thinking about it was so mortifying, it made Uta pinch her own cheeks.
…
There was this thing — such a silly thing, really. But sometimes, it made her wonder.
Sometimes she thought if… if when Luffy grew up, he'd be taller than her.
As of now, he was still a shrimp. She was bigger and stronger, ha! Because she was two whole years older!
She'd always be older than him. But maybe… maybe one day he'd get taller than her.
Thinking about it felt so strange. Luffy was such a silly, whiny, sore loser.
Would he ever grow taller than her?
There was another shade to the word love, like there were innumerable shades to the sea and the sky. She didn't understand how she knew that, but — well, she did.
There was the love that was Shanks, holding her in his arms, and it felt like the world's beginning — like the gleaming dawn on the open sea. There was the love that was Shanks' smile: unshakeable and invincible, like the wall between Uta and all the world's thunderstorms.
And there was this other, odd kind of love. It was uncomfortable and so strange… it made Uta's cheeks warm up when she didn't feel hot, and it made her stutter a bit when she was normally so self-assured.
…Honestly, why was she even daydreaming about — about — this thing? Who even said this was love? Maybe Uta just caught a cold or something, and now she just — wasn't feeling so well. She was nine! Still a kid. Kids got sick all the time, or so Makino would always worry. Even though Uta rarely ever got sick. But maybe she was sick this time.
Or maybe… maybe it was just nothing. Some silly thoughts that would pass with time.
Well, in fact, just this one thought only.
The thing was… in the village… in Makino's bar, or the star-crowned groves and secluded corners, when she saw people — local boys and girls, or that silly Beck with a new random woman… when the two of them stealthily sneaked around in search of adventure, Luffy and her, they saw sometimes…
The man's big hands, falling on the woman's lithe waist.
The woman's small hands, softly landing on the man's wide shoulders.
Their smiles, their eyes — like their two souls were a single song.
Then… more often than not… the man would kiss the woman, as she rose on her tiptoes.
Just about always, the man was taller than her — so much taller he had to bend down, and she had to — well.
…
Uta's second dream was so dumb that she never, ever told anyone. She'd scarcely acknowledge it to herself.
It was, ugh — to find out if — when — if — no, when their time came, Luffy'd be tall enough that she'd have to stand on her tiptoes.
She wouldn't find out for a long time, she knew. For years and years. A whole eternity.
But she wasn't in any hurry, was she? She was happy like that, with her Shanks to hold her like his biggest treasure near his chest; with her Luffy to lose to her and then laugh with her in the summer evenings, filling the thickening night with his laughter's sunlight.
She was happy. So happy…
She had been happy on her father's ship, but now her happiness felt so much — deeper. Richer. With all those new colors and overtones… She hadn't even known she could be this happy, but — she was.
The Foosha people said it wasn't good, to be happy and brag about it. They said fate could be jealous and greedy. They said that if you were so openly, freely happy, the Furies of fate would come after you, and take away everything that you treasured.
Makino told them that, once. As awesome as she normally was, she could be so silly.
"Furies of fate? Hah! If they try to hurt Uta, I'll kick their asses!" Luffy declared. "My fist is as fast as a bullet! No stupid fate can escape it!"
Uta looked down on the counter, at her herbal tea — the best drink for singers — and her cheeks went warm somehow, and, try as she might, she couldn't look up. She just felt so — warm, and that warmth had nothing to do with the tea.
But she was Red-Haired Shanks' daughter, and his crew's musician. She was a pirate.
Red-Haired Pirates conquered every foe, and Uta was one of them. She could kick anyone's butt, and she'd let nothing and no one get the best of her…
Including her own stupid shyness.
She raised her head and looked up, in Makino's eyes.
"No fate can hurt me," she said — the very first truth she had ever learned in her life. "I have Shanks."
And Luffy smiled at her, wider than the sun itself. He thought so, too.
And suddenly, over a cup of hot, fragrant tea, she thought:
Shanks' song was her world's beginning.
Luffy's smile…
(That dumb, dumb, dumb boy. He didn't even see.
But then again, he was only seven — a snotty brat who still dreamed of just meat, adventure, and rhinoceros beetles.
Maybe it was too early. Uta was nine, and her breasts were already growing — the tiniest little bit, but she could already see how they were getting a little bit bigger. She would be a woman soon. She would be a woman so pretty the world would all hold their breath when they looked at her, and she'd sing so sweetly she'd chase all the sorrow away, to make the entire world happy and bright — just like Luffy's smile.
Soon enough, she'd be a woman, and the dumb bug chaser called Monkey D. Luffy would be a man.
And then… maybe… just maybe… she'd tell him, or better yet, sing to him that — )
…his smile,
that wide, blinding smile no sun could outshine…
was her world's continuation.