Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The war ended on a morning. Not on fire. Not in blood. But in light.

It washed over the seas like a sunrise, gilding every mast, every broken banner, every blade thrown down in exhaustion or triumph. There were no horns to signal victory, no news reports fast enough to catch what really happened—only silence and the long, slow exhale of a world that had been holding its breath for centuries.

And in the center of it all, he laughed.

Joy Boy. Monkey D. Luffy. Not a king. Not a god. Just a boy with a straw hat and too much love for the world.

They say the light carried him upward, not downward, and that he was the dawn. The moment his laughter echoed into the sky, the wind caught his hat and sent it tumbling over the sea like a promise passed on.

No one saw it land. No one ever found a body.

The world moved forward, as it always does. And the Straw Hats —no longer pirates, no longer outlaws—did what no one expected:

They lived. The last thing they heard, tears in all their eyes, was his signature laugh and his voice echoing above all else -

"I'm glad I had you."

After feeling like a dream within a dream, the Red Line falls. The seas connect. Fishman Island comes to the surface. The Celestial Dragons are no more. The Ancient Weapons were never used, but their threat forced the world to listen.

A new era begins—not a utopia, but something freer, something chosen. And so, they had to choose new dreams.

Luffy not only became the King of the Pirates, achieving the most incredible freedom in the world, but they also threw a party in honor of his childish and grand mind. One that Big Mom, in her own way, dreamt of - people from all over the world. Brought together by a smiling boy and his straw hat.

It felt surreal as everyone simultaneously laughed and cried, Imu and their darkness gone, and only Luffy's light blazing bright for the entire universe. Like a star, if it descended, it walked among them.

Zoro drowned himself in the drink. He became the world's greatest swordsman—defeating Mihawk on the way. Promise kept to Kuina. Blade to the King of the Pirates. Protecting his Captain...as far as he could go. He was bewildered, and now all he could do was cry into his bottle, smiling, trembling at the edges.

Nami sat close to Zoro. Her eyes did not leave the sky as she kept repeating, "He's happy, right, Zoro? He did it, right, Zoro?"

He grunted in response, and it felt like she could barely contain the pain in her chest, so Zoro poured them both another drink, daring her to beat him at holding it together - as if that could distract her.

Usopp was a puddle. Swaying between bravado, he shouted to the other warriors as he described their tales. Tears pouring into his cup, "And then...the great, Captain Usopp...helped...the greatest man alive become...the King of the Pirates."

Everyone cheered, sobbing at the corners of their smiles, and they begged for the stories. Usopp knew he needed to write to them... for everyone to understand that the warmth they felt now was thanks to the most amazing man in the world. They called him a hero, and he would swoon at the thought of Luffy smiling at him through the sunlight surrounding them.

As for Sanji? Well, with Luffy's defeat of Imu, the seas came together. He had not stopped cooking. He served the hordes of warriors, allies, friends, nakama, and even those they had once fought, who now finally understood the power that radiated from Luffy. He smoked like the world had lost all its air. But still, he smiled as people ate.

For a moment, Zoro would look at him and frown, tears streaming from their faces.

"Shitty cook." He said as if it held all the words he could not say.

"Idiot swordsman," Sanji replied as he remembered them, side by side, protecting and fighting alongside the man they would both have given their lives for. And yet...

"Thanks for being his shield," Zoro murmured.

"Well, can't let you take all the credit, can I...moss head."

They let the silence sit, and then, like usual, they continued as if they had held them together for now.

"Besides," Sanji said as he blew out smoke, "I could do more with one leg than you could do with three swords."

"What was that, you fucking pervert!"

And like that, they would banter, and it felt like they could hear Luffy laughing between the profanity. Nami smacked both of them, smiling still even as her nose ran.

Chopper kept himself busy; otherwise, he might as well melt into the floor. He worked on everyone, with Milky and other Mink tribe members following him to assist or wipe the crying doctor's tears.

"Dr. Chopper," Milky whispered, "it looks like you can cure any disease now. The world is here and needs your treatment."

Chopper sobbed, blush full on his face, "That doesn't make me happy...you asshole! I...I...wish I could just..."

He sobbed openly now as Milky gathered him into her arms.

"Who is going to cure my broken heart!"

And everyone felt it. Robin gathered her notes, knowing she would need to correct any discrepancies in Usopp's stories. Still, her hands shook, and her eyes were wet throughout.

Franky's hand would find hers as he stared into the sky with a fierce look, but tears poured out from what remained of his humanness.

"Thousand Sunny...she made it to the world's end, huh."

"What are you going to do now...cyborg?"

He looked down as he scooped her into his arms, and she found the warmth of his metal and heart.

"Whatever you need, Robin."

"Home," she mumbled into his chest.

"Then let's go home, Robin," he said as he felt her tears against him.

Brook's songs were meant to uplift during the bittersweet moments, and he kept playing as if to keep the sadness at bay.

He murmured between his guitar riffs, "My heart is broken today..."

Then the sun poured down again—as if the sky itself was listening—as the crowd sang alongside him. Laboon jumped up from the water and shot sprays that mingled with the light, becoming crystals above.

"Ah...but as a living skeleton...I don't have a heart."

Laboon wailed, and Brook took a moment to wipe his eye sockets. "And yet...it hurts."

Jinbe exhaled his weary bones as he took in the scene. Fishmen and humans. He never thought he could even dream of it, yet here it was. Before him, all because he put his faith in a boy.

"Luffy," he whispered between sips of sake, "thank you for being the light we needed."

Ultimately, the crowds disappeared as the Straw Hats looked at each other, the missing piece evident on their faces and souls.

Jinbe was the first to clear his throat. "Well, Fishman Island will need help navigating this new world... and I'm happy to help."

They nodded as he took his leave, his heart calm but heavy. Brook strummed a song as he laughed.

"Yohoho! Looks like I'll have to make a concert to beat Uta's."

Everyone grimaced and remembered the chaos unleashed by Uta's voice—Shanks' adoptive daughter with a song too powerful for the world.

"Perhaps a joint concert...would heal both our hearts."

Usopp shouted about getting tickets first as Brook found Laboon and drifted into the sea.

"Well, my nakama ...my family...I would love to see you all in Water 7 again."

He turned to Robin as he stretched out a large metal palm, and she took it with a soft and tender smile.

"We would both love to see you there..." she added as they mingled with the remnants of the Revolutionary Army and left.

Before they left, she turned over her shoulder and called out to Usopp, "I expect you to run your stories by me before publishing. I can't have you messing up history for the sake of your warrior spirit."

Usopp ran after them, "Oi, actually, give me a ride! We should discuss. Kaya is waiting for me...and I think..." he caught the sob in his throat as it rose, "Luffy's story will beat Noland's...and anyone else's for the rest of eternity."

Everyone who remained nodded in agreement and watched the sniper drift away with the shipwright and the archeologist.

Milky waved at Chopper, and the other Minks waited as Chopper pulled his hat down over his tired and wet eyes.

"I want to see Doctorine again..."

And then he lifted his face and shouted, "And you all better stay safe and healthy! What kind of crew doctor would I be if any of you...see...Luffy before...me."

Nami was the first to choke up a tear as she collected him in her arms, and they held each other until Chopper nodded and made his soft-footed exit.

Sanji lit another cigarette as he looked at the last two. Nami and Zoro...

He knew Zoro was the first mate and right hand, and as much as Sanji took pride in being by Luffy's side in battle - a fellow fighter alongside Zoro. But he understood, like the original two — the ones Luffy found first —there was something there that he could not even break. The man who would give his life for his Captain and the girl - no, the woman - who guided them all to their dreams by her Captain's side.

"I'll...open my own restaurant. Right here. At the end of the world."

"What about Baratie?" Nami asked softly.

"Old Man Zeff has that...and that is not my story," he said as he cried through his smile. "Besides, who's gonna feed all the hungry people chasing Luffy's dream here?"

Zoro snorted and smirked, "He would love that...Sanji."

For a moment, Sanji could not bear it, so he pressed a swift leg at Zoro, who dodged with little movement.

"Better take our navigator with you wherever you go, Zoro."

A beat as the moment sat between the three of them, and then a signature smirk and cocky tilt of his head. "Cannot even navigate to the dock without her."

Nami blinked as she watched the exchange and took in a breath as they bantered. Her fists were raised high, but as the wind pressed against her back and whipped her hair, her palms opened as she placed them on their heads and rubbed.

Both men were caught off guard momentarily as Nami felt the tears again.

"Hai, hai...Luffy would hate it if his first mate ended up at the bottom of the sea, wouldn't he..."

For a moment, they felt the warmth of her hands through their cuts, bruises, burns, and sweat. Both men bowed their heads as if in reverence, and all they could do was nod in acknowledgment.

Chapter Text

They sailed with the wind and sun on their side. The seas were too tranquil after the time they spent traveling the world, defeating the tyrants, and building this legacy.

Now, it felt like the early days. Before the Straw Hats went their separate ways, Franky ensured they had everything they needed to go wherever the wind—or grief—took them.

Zoro now dozed off on the deck of the boat Franky had gifted them. It was smaller and could be managed by two people. Suddenly, Nami remembered being in the dinghy they had started with—the one she found the rubber boy and the Pirate Hunter in. Nami grinned at the clouds.

Sometimes, one of them would try to speak, only to choke on the wetness in their throat, and then they would joke or laugh—remembering a moment when Luffy almost died. They traveled light, quiet, and together, laughing between the tears they wiped off with their own hands before the other could catch them.

Shimotsuki Village hadn't changed much since the last time Zoro saw it—though everything inside him had. The hills still leaned like the blade's edge, the air still sharp with memory. But there was a different kind of silence now. Not the heavy stillness of grief but the quiet weight of something missing. Like a laugh too loud to be gone. Like a hat caught in the wind.

They'd passed through a dozen towns on foot, and Nami could feel it in her bones—how the world had changed. Not just in borders or tides, but in how people looked at them. Reverence. Relief. And that ache behind their smiles.

When they arrived at their first stop, the children ran like sparks across the courtyard at the dojo. Swords too big for their hands and hearts too big for their bodies. They swarmed Zoro with glee, begging for stories, training tips, and the chance to touch the hilt of Wado Ichimonji.

Koushiro welcomed them like no time had passed. Zoro spoke of Wano, and Koushiro nodded happily - knowing full well that it was more than just fate that brought Zoro under his care.

They'd worn the kids out with sparring and storytime, but the bravest of them—little Kinji, no older than ten—stood in front of Nami, puffing his chest.

"I wanna be the next Pirate Queen! Like you!"

Nami blinked. "You mean navigator —right?"

"Nope! I heard you kill a Sea King with just one swing!" another one said.

"That's not exactly what—" she started, but the kids were swarming.

"Show us your weapon!"

"Do you have a Devil Fruit?"

"Do you have a sword like Zoro-senpai?!"

She gave them a lazy grin and stood, drawing the Clima-Tact with a dramatic flick. The tip crackled softly with heat and static, casting golden sparks that lit up their eyes.

"You don't need three swords," she said, spinning the staff once over her shoulder. "You just need one—and a little creativity."

They cheered like she'd cast a spell.

But Kinji squinted at her skeptically. "Bet you can't even hold a real sword."

Zoro looked up from where he was sitting by the porch, one brow raised.

Nami turned to him. "Sword, please."

Zoro blinked. "You serious?"

She held out her hand, winking at the kids. "Let me borrow the scary one."

With a smirk and a grunt, Zoro unsheathed Sandai Kitetsu and passed it to her. The moment it landed in her grip, the weight shifted her posture—but she held it with surprising ease.

"I've picked up a few things traveling with your Sensei ," she told the dojo kids as she adjusted her stance.

Then she struck a pose—feet planted, shoulder squared, red skirt swaying behind her like a war banner.

" One Sword Style: Don't Test Me When I'm Tired. "

The kids screamed in joy and admiration.

Zoro stared, one corner of his mouth twitching upward as she twirled the blade once, casually flipped it back to him hilt-first, and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.

He caught the sword but didn't speak. Just stared.

"You gonna say something, Zoro-sensei?" she teased as she sipped her tea. "My form off?"

He grinned. "Not at all. I've taught you well, Nami."

She smirked without missing a beat. "Ha! Monster Trio or not...I got us to the end of the world, didn't I?"

"We couldn't have done it without you, Navigator."

The kids didn't understand the silence that followed — only that something had shifted. A breeze stirred the dust, and for a moment, even the crows on the rooftop went quiet. They wouldn't remember the words, but they'd remember the look in Zoro's eye as he watched her — and the way their Sensei smiled without saying a thing.

But that night, after the dojo dimmed and sake pooled into shallow cups, Koushiro looked at Zoro not as a student—but as a man.

"You've changed," he said.

Zoro laughed. "Not that much."

And when Koushiro gestured to the quiet woman dozing by the porch with a soft smile barely hidden beneath his cloak, he asked, "I see you brought your... nakama with you."

Nami had spent the day playing with the kids, and now they had drained her. Even though she was clearly tired, it was in her nature to be that warm - especially to children. Zoro also imagined the weariness of everything would take a few more moments to wane.

Zoro didn't flinch. He just nodded—eager. Proud.

Koushiro took in the blush across Zoro's usually stoic face, aged and older. A man now, but still the same somewhat shy boy he raised.

"She reminds me of Kuina, in a way," his master mused.

"She's strong like Kuina."

"Mmm, and not related to you."

Zoro choked on his drink for a moment. "W-what is that supposed to mean, Sensei?"

Koushiro just smiled. "You achieved your dream, Zoro. Now, what will you do?"

For a moment, Zoro looked back at the sleeping Nami and shrugged. "Whatever she needs me to do...I guess."

At that, Koushiro sipped again with a smirk. "I see."

The next day, Nami stood by the grave. She didn't speak as she recalled all that Zoro would whisper to her between drinks about the girl who got him in his dream in the first place.

Zoro knelt, the wind tousling his hair as he unsheathed Wado Ichimonji with reverent fingers. The steel gleamed—polished, proud, undefeated.

He laid it gently at the base of the stone.

Nami's eyes widened. "You're… giving it back?"

Zoro didn't look at her. He kept his gaze on the name carved into the weathered stone.

"I took it with a promise to become the strongest…"

He exhaled. "And I've achieved that. That dream… is now over."

A silence settled. Even the breeze stilled.

Nami stepped forward. "But it's yours—"

"No," he said, voice lower now. "It was never mine. It was hers. I just carried it until she could rest."

She watched as Zoro pressed two fingers to the stone, forehead bowed in silence. He whispered something she couldn't hear. Maybe something only ghosts could do.

And now that dream is over... she thought as she turned to leave.

"Well," she murmured, brushing wind-blown hair from her eyes, "I should be on my way to see Nojiko."

Zoro stood, wiping his hands. "Okay."

She paused mid-step. "Where are you going?"

"With you."

The wind carried the scent of steel and sun-warmed leather—so distinctly his—that it filled her senses.

"Why?"

Zoro didn't blink. "The woman who navigated the world and made Luffy King of the Pirates? You think it's safe for you to travel alone?"

"Oh?" she arched a brow. "And what makes you think I can't care for myself?"

Zoro's gaze softened, but he didn't look away.

"Luffy would not want you to be alone. Ever again."

Her breath hitched—too fast, too full. "That... that's not fair."

He shrugged. "Since when have you ever liked fair fights, Navigator? You'd sooner charge me a million belli than be fair. Or have you forgotten I still owe you for Loguetown? I'm a man who settles his debts."

Then she laughed, a ringing tone that sent a spark off in Zoro. He had missed that. It felt real for the first time since...Luffy.

"Okay, Pirate Hunter. I'll collect your debt in full now..."

"Oi, I haven't been a pirate hunter in a long time," he said as he stepped beside her.

She smiled, "Okay, okay, Swordsman-san . Just get me home."

She was teasing, but he paused and gripped her hand.

"You haven't called me that since we first met."

She looked into his lone pale gray eye, taking in the firm line of his jaw. The intensity of his stare was as if he was waiting for her to say something she was not sure her heart could manage at the moment.

"Zoro...I..."

He held a hand up as the other still held her shaking fingers.

"It's fine. I'm just helping you until you're home. Right? To clear my debt..."

"You're the only one I trust to protect me."

She bowed her head, the tips of her ears flushed pink, and Zoro tried to still the thrum in his chest as he grinned. Nami looked up, and for a moment, she saw that wide grin she had seen on the boy she met years ago.

Now, it crinkled the corners of his eyes. The clear scar closed his left, but the right eye was just as closed as if his cheeks could not contain his joy—a joy that Luffy had gifted them.

"Yosh! Let's go then...Nami."

They said their goodbyes to Koushiro and the kids. As they stepped past the edge of the village, a gust of wind rippled through the trees.

And for a moment—just a moment—they both swore they heard it.

That laugh. Faint. Familiar. Free.

They didn't speak of it. They just walked closer as if they'd heard it only when they were together.

Chapter Text

The walk to Cocoyashi was quieter than Nami expected. Not heavy, just... soft. The kind of calm that lets you hear things—your own heartbeat, the breeze tugging at your coat, the distant rush of tide.

When the village came into view, Nami caught her breath. It hadn't changed much. Still sun-warmed and citrus-sweet, bearing the scent of salt and seaweed. Children ran barefoot through the grass. Nets hung to dry near Gen-san's shack. At the foot of the hill stood Nojiko, arms crossed and smiling patiently. She didn't wave—just waited.

When Nami reached her, the hug was a long one. Familiar. Nojiko didn't ask anything, not at first. She didn't have to. Her thumb brushed a tear off Nami's cheek, and she only said, "Welcome home."

Zoro trailed behind them like a shadow at first, respectful and silent. But by mid-afternoon, he was practically embedded in village life. Helping move crates. Chopping lumber. Fixing a window without being asked. It was like someone had given the world's greatest swordsman a to-do list and no off switch.

And every time someone turned around, he was already at Nami's side, head tilted as she showed them old maps or talked through storm systems like she hadn't just survived a war. Nojiko watched for a while. After a few days, she made her move.

"So, Nami," she said innocently, wiping her hands on her apron, "when are you gonna let that poor man off his leash?"

Nami glanced up from her book as she sat in Nojiko's cafe.

Nami sputtered, "I have not chained Zoro. No one can!"

"Oh, but you have."

"What are you even saying, Nojiko?"

"Oh ho! So you think Luffy's right hand is just lingering here because he loves orange wine?"

"Y-yes! It's delicious."

"Under the full moon with you," Nojiko cooed.

Nami turned bright red. "Oh, please! He drinks with everyone !"

"Mmm... and where does he live?"

"I mean, it would be silly for him to stay in the town inn."

"And your house was the perfect place?"

"You moved out, didn't you? I had a spare room—what was I supposed to do, let him crash with Gen-san?"

"Why not? He's practically the village leader/protector at this point. Gen-san would have loved the company. The son he never had."

"Oh, as if! Zoro trains at sunrise and snores like a Sea King. Gen-san would've exiled him in a week."

"Know his sleep schedule that well, huh? Then how often does he even use that room?"

"Actually, he helped set it up. I—I wanted a map room."

"Oh. So, you converted the room that you were going to use for him... for your maps then."

"He puts his weights in there, too! And I have a lot of maps!"

"Right."

"A-and they need to be protected."

"I see. So he's protecting the maps. The maps you draw. Your maps."

"Yes! Gods, when did you become this annoying ?"

"Oh, Nami. Sweet Nami." Nojiko leaned in. "You love this man."

"I—I have no idea what you're talking about—"

"Swear. Swear on Belle-mère's grave that you don't have feelings for Roronoa Zoro."

"I—why you—he—he is my nakama ."

"Yes, and he shares the bed with you—"

"I have nightmares! " she said, eyes wide, voice defensive.

Her sister had her now. Nojiko grinned. "Oh, ho! I was just joking, but you guys actually— "

"No! We...just...sometimes, it's cold."

"Cold?" her sister asked incredulously. "I guess blankets need to be invented then."

Nami was sweating now. "N-nojiko. I don't understand what the big deal is. I mean, we're just...here...together. Like we used to be."

"Things are different," Nojiko said softly as she walked over and gripped her sister's hand, their gold bangles clinking together—evidence of a promise they made to each other.

"You are not fighting wars. There is peace. The world is entering a new age... don't you think...you deserve a new dream. A new promise?"

Nami chewed her cheek. "I...feel guilty...moving on. Luffy-"

Her sister squeezed her hand and glared at her. "Oh, no. Don't do that. Luffy's whole life was about living free, wasn't it? I mean he said as much when he rescued you - all of us - from Arlong! Memories...memories don't need to be a prison. We remember Belle-mère and live our lives to the fullest today, don't we?"

Nami nodded and then glanced outside, and just like that, the familiar patch of light green hair bobbed around. Now, he had two swords at his side, as the villagers had him doing their odd tasks.

Nami thought it was at first to test him, to see if he was normal, considering his bounty and the very different picture his stories painted of Roronoa Zoro. But then, she would catch the way he smiled at them as he did his work. The way they teased him when he seemed to walk whichever way if Nami did not hold him by the hand.

"Luffy would want you all to live...what else would his sacrifice be for?" her sister whispered, then wiped the tears from Nami's eyes.

"I'm scared, Nojiko."

"Of what?"

"Of...losing him, too."

She hugged her little sister, patting her copper head. "Oh, Nami. If you think the strongest swordsman in the world would be so easily taken down... you've forgotten who you fell in love with."

"But...but Luffy did."

"That's different, Nami."

"How?"

Nojiko pulled back and smiled down at Nami.

"Because I think you've become his purpose now. And I think we both know that Zoro—once he sets his sights on something- doesn't waver."

"I...he hasn't said anything."

"The way he looks at you? Like you're his compass."

"That's because I am!" she pauses, blushing again. "Bu-but it's because he'd be lost without me. I mean...literally!"

Nojiko shrugged as she sighed, "Honestly. I give that man a lot of credit. He has the patience of a monk to deal with you."

"What do you mean?"

"He is literally here...beside you...day in and day out. Sleeping next to you and hasn't made a single move...because...and I say this with love, Nami, but you're such a fucking tease."

"Nojiko!"

"I'm serious! You're just using his time, energy, body, and...you get to fall asleep in his arms, and this man is taking it all."

"He can handle it."

"Mmm, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Nami is pink aagain, "N-nojiko. No need to be so..."

"Are we shy...now? Nami! Who is this girl before me? Where is that cheeky woman who would sooner change naked and charge every single leering stare? Hmm?"

"One time."

"Yes, and as I recall, you went into intense detail about the color of the yellow zippered shirt he wore when he cut through steel that day."

"It was mustard."

"Right. I wonder when Usopp's next story is going to come out. It's really getting popular."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And our village may have a lot of married people, old folks, and young couples...but the second they know that your little swordsman is playing house here... don't you think they will come flocking?"

"What...to fight him?"

Nojiko dragged a hand down her face. "No. Foolish sister. To be with the strongest swordsman. To flirt with him. To...I don't know...woo him?"

"Ha! As if!"

Nojiko's eyes twitched in frustration. "You know...I think you've forgotten since you've all been traveling together for so long."

She took Nami's cheeks and tilted her face to the window where Zoro was sweating in the sun. Suddenly, she saw it—the way his muscles rippled, the sun catching the glint of his earrings. And then she saw the eyes—how the women, married or not, seemed to take in his body.

He turned and said something with that goofy smile of his, and they flushed. Nami swore she saw a couple of men swoon when Zoro picked up several logs with one arm like they were feathers.

"You know... he's a very eligible bachelor."

Nami's pulse at her temple throbbed as she remembered seeing Hiyori and Zoro close together in Wano. Robin had told her that Hiyori even kept Zoro warm. Now, Nami was mad.

How dare you. She didn't even know what she was going to say. She just knew she needed to say it first.

Suddenly, Nami ran out of the cafe as Nojiko shouted, "Atta girl!"

Zoro heard the heels and quickly, like a flash, turned and smirked, "Oi, Nami-"

He paused as he took in the signature glare she had. A glare he had seen many times before, but he was racking his brain on why she was charging at him with such murderous intent.

Did he leave his clothes on the floor in the bathroom again? He had put the trash out like she told him to the night before. He even watered the orchard before coming into town with her. So then-

But it was too late as Nami collapsed into his body, pushing all the air out of his lungs. Logs rolled out of his arm as he gripped her instead.

"Uh! Nami, what the hell-"

"How dare you, Zoro!"

"What are you on about, witch?"

She gripped his shirt. "You...are wearing this shirt."

"Huh?"

It was an old, deep navy no-sleeve he found lying around. He went through a few shirts between his training and the odd jobs he did for the villagers. He also knew Nami hated it when he smelled, and he made an effort, especially since they shared closer quarters than they did on the ship.

"This..." she ground her teeth, "Is mine."

"Oh? But I swore I wore this bef-"

"Yes! Because I let you borrow it, you idiot."

"Oh-okay, I'm sorry. I'll take it off."

He motioned to peel the shirt off, and Nami saw red as she planted a punch.

"You-you animal! You gonna strip right here! Put on a show for your fans!"

"Huh?" he bellowed.

She hadn't meant to push him that hard. Or maybe she had. The townsfolk had gathered, laughing, pretending not to watch. And now she was straddling Roronoa Zoro on the dirt road of her hometown like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And gods help her; he looked like a damn fever dream.

The tank top—the same deep navy one she gave him on a whim in Skypiea—was nearly black with sweat and sun. Back then, it was looser, giving him his full range of mobility, which he always preferred.

Now, it clung to every sharp cut of his body, stretched over that massive chest of his that could easily go nipple to nipple with Pirate Empress Boa's.

His shoulders were too big to be legal. Veins ran down his arms like maps she hadn't dared chart. His skin was sun-warmed bronze, scratched from work, dotted with fresh cuts that would've looked like nothing on anyone else—but on him, they were proof that he didn't just survive things. He carved through them.

Two swords pressed against his hip. She could feel their weight even now, one thigh on either side of his. His abdomen rose and fell beneath her, taut and steady—like he hadn't just been tackled by the woman who made his pulse skip in battle more than death ever had.

His jaw clenched as he looked up at her, a flush creeping up from his neck. The scar over his eye pulled slightly as he squinted against the sun behind her.

She hated how good he looked like this—rumpled, pinned, waiting.

"Comfortable?" he asked, voice rough, low.

She wanted to say yes.

Instead, she scoffed. "You're the one lying down."

"You pushed me."

"You let me."

Zoro raised an eyebrow, and she knew that he wasn't moving unless she told him to. Or unless she kissed him first. The thought nearly short-circuited her.

And that shirt? That shirt had no right to hug his torso like it did. Had no right riding up the way it had, exposing the sliver of muscle above his waistband like some cruel, teasing invitation. The fabric was practically begging to be pulled off—and Nami knew, with startling clarity, that she was the one who'd given it to him.

She shifted slightly, and Zoro inhaled through his nose like it hurt to stay still.

"I should kill you," she muttered.

"For giving you what you want?" he murmured back.

Gods, she was so screwed.

"K-keep the shirt," she said, trying not to struggle with her words as she straddled him.

Now, Zoro felt it. The passing glances, the flushed cheeks and ears, she tried to hide from him. And so his cockiness got the better of him as she sprawled out on top of him on this dirt road.

"And what do I owe you, witch...for this loan?"

Her lips quivered for a moment, and Zoro didn't move. Not because he couldn't—he could've flipped her in a heartbeat. She knew that. He knew that. But because he didn't want to.

Because right now, Nami was on top of him, hands pressed to his chest, breath fast, hair sticking to her cheeks from the sun—and everything in him went still.

Not from the weight. Not from the shock. But from the years. From Alabasta, where she first tricked him into staying put with one touch. From Enies Lobby, where she called out to him through smoke and ruin and made him run faster than he thought he could. From Thriller Bark, when she slept leaning too close, and his sword hand twitched and didn't know why. From Sabaody, when she was crying and couldn't stop, and he didn't know how to make it better. From Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, where he noticed she never let him out of her sight. From Wano, where she shook when he came back half-dead, and he let her bandage him in silence because he didn't trust himself to speak.

From all the nights on the Sunny when she laughed too loud, got too close, or said things like, "We're a good team, huh, Zoro?" like it didn't shake him to his bones. In every place, they cried, laughed, and journeyed together. With Luffy...with all of them.

And now? Now she was on him, hair tangled, eyes wild, her heartbeat pressing into his, and he realized something:

He'd never stopped waiting for her to say it. Because Zoro didn't beg. Not for anything. But right now?

Right now, he would've dropped his swords and sworn on every scar he carried if she just said the words. Said what she meant. Said him .

Instead, she stared at him like she couldn't decide whether to yell at him or kiss him. And that—that—was worse than any fight he'd ever been in.

He swallowed once, slowly. Felt the sunburn through his shirt, her weight still grounded over his hips.

"Nami…" His voice barely came out.

She blinked. "Zoro..."

He didn't say it. Couldn't. So he gave her the only thing he could. The only thing he had. He stayed. Right there. Under her. Waiting. Like he always had.

For a moment, Nami knew she could take it back. She could get up and laugh it off. He would follow her lead, just as he always did. He would not push or press, even if he wanted to. She could feel he wanted to.

She inhaled and listened closely for the laugh she still could hear in the wind. The laugh that still brought tears to her eyes, but now there was a body that would hold her close as those tears disappeared. The laugh that was not letting go of her. Not anymore.

Her breath trembled as she hovered above him, fingers still curled in his shirt. The dirt, the crowd, her flushed cheeks—none of it mattered—just this.

"Zoro," she said, softer than he'd ever heard her voice.

His eye met hers. He didn't move.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," she whispered, like a secret just for him. "Stay with me… Please."

A pause. His throat bobbed. Her hand cupped his jaw.

"This time," she whispered, "I'm asking for you."

He placed a hand over hers against his face and pressed forward, letting his hands drop to grip her from falling backward. From pulling away from him. Ever again.

Zoro pressed his forehead to hers and smiled.

"I promise, witch," he whispered, and that was all he managed before she closed her eyes, and he did the same. Their lips met—not like something new, but like something that had always been waiting.

And on that day, a new promise was made. Never to be broken.

Chapter Text

Two years had passed since the world had changed. The sea was quieter now. Not because there were fewer pirates or less ambition, but because the storm that was Monkey D. Luffy had finally passed—and what remained was the peace he'd always dreamed of.

The crew promised to return in two years and celebrate the man who brought them together. From all the corners of the world, seafaring wasn't as divided as it once was, though there were still adventures to be had. But they had done this before...traveling back to each other. To Luffy.

They spotted the sign just before sunset—sunlight catching on the carved wood and casting its name in gold: Luffy's Table .

Simple. Honest. Bold enough to make Usopp stop mid-step.

"Everyone speaks highly of your place, Sanji. News spreads...but why?"

The others gathered, heads tilted, eyes wide. Zoro blinked up at it, then looked over at Sanji, already leaning in the doorway with a cigarette and a barely contained smirk.

"You named your restaurant after him?" Zoro asked, not unkindly. Just... surprised.

Sanji shrugged. "Course I did."

Nami squinted. "I thought you'd call it something like All Blue Flame or The Love Cook's Kitchen or—"

"Too long. Too flashy." Sanji blew a thin stream of smoke and stepped forward, pushing the door open with a chef's grace. "Besides, that name already had everything I needed."

Inside, the restaurant was warm and clean. Sunlight poured through expansive windows. A giant round table sat in the center—no head, no hierarchy, just enough space for everyone. Wanted posters of them, their nakama, and their friends, along with news clippings of their adventures. The public captured their history and news, but only the ones here tonight would truly know the real stories behind all that.

Sanji tapped the sign above the bar menu, where the motto was burned into wood: At Luffy's table... everyone is a nakama, and everyone eats their fill.

He looked back at the crew.

"He told me that once, you know. After Big Mom. He said that he would want a big table. A big party where everyone ate. Laughed. Together."

No one said a word. Not at first.

Then Jinbe stepped forward and bowed his head. "A fitting tribute."

Franky sniffled and flexed through it. "Super fitting."

Usopp grinned, eyes misty. "Bet he'd love this place."

Chopper burst into tears, of course. Robin gently patted his shoulder. Even Zoro said nothing. He just sat down first.

Sanji tilted his head toward the kitchen. "Well? What're you all waiting for? Sit down. I've cooked a feast. For the people Luffy loved most."

One by one, the Straw Hats sat down. Then a hush settled as Usopp stood and cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly yet completely confidently. "Ahem. Before we dive into the meal or cry about Luffy, there's someone I want you all to meet."

He shyly looked at Nami and Zoro, "And I suppose, re-meet."

He motioned back to the entrance, arm outstretched toward a woman with soft gold hair and eyes that shimmered with quiet strength. "Everyone, this is Kaya. My wife."

"Wife?!" the table exploded in unison. Even Zoro choked on his sake.

Sanji blinked. "Wait—you got married before me?"

Kaya giggled as she walked in as delicately as a flower and stood beside Usopp. "Technically, yes."

Nami leaped up with a delighted squeal. "Kaya!" She rushed around the table to hug her, beaming. "I'm so glad you came! Love to see you, but…wife? Wait, how did he propose!"

"Galantly," Usopp said with his chest puffed and nose in the air.

Kaya giggled as she blushed. "Actually, I met Usopp at the dock when he finally made shore...and he ran over to me. Fell to his knees and sobbed. Begging me to marry him."

" Begged ?" Zoro snorted.

Usopp turned crimson. "It was a very dignified kneel."

Robin smirked. "Romantic, even."

Franky wept openly. "That's so super !"

But Kaya's voice softened, cutting through the teasing. "It flattered me... because after everything, after all the adventures and distance, Usopp still wanted the next one to be with me." She looked at her husband, who was blushing wildly. "That... that mattered."

Nami's smile faltered—just for a second—as she walked back to her seat beside Zoro. He caught the shift, a flicker behind her eyes. But he didn't pry—not here. He just rested a hand over hers beneath the table, and she squeezed it once before returning to the moment.

The others crowded around Kaya like she was a long-lost crewmate—because, in truth, she kind of was. Pulling a chair for her and making room, as they often did when their family grew. A quiet member of the crew's soul. Robin asked about her clinic. Chopper offered to compare medical notes. Brook bowed dramatically and promised her a song. Then Sanji, his hand to his heart, his voice dripping with honey, started his normal behavior.

"Kaya, I have heard of you. And Usopp has not done you justice. You are truly the flower of Syrup Village, the light of our long-nosed sniper's life—if ever a love story deserved wine and violin—"

Zoro didn't even look. Just swung out an arm and whacked Sanji upside the head.

"Shut up, pervert. She is literally married."

Sanji ground his teeth as he headbutted the swordsman, "You, rock-for-brain! A man can compliment the beauty of a woman without wanting more, you know!"

He pulled back and grabbed a wine bottle from the table as he inhaled and exhaled. Pacing around the table and pouring smoothly.

"Well, we must toast to the new couple, shouldn't we?" After he had poured everyone a glass, even Zoro, he seemed flustered and smiled.

"Actually, speaking of marriage...and wives. I-" he rushed backward toward the kitchen.

"Have - an - update - as well!" he shouted behind the swinging doors as others heard the clatter of pans and banging.

"What the hell is he doing back there? Fighting?" Usopp asked.

"With himself? That sounds like something that idiot would be doing," Zoro teased.

Finally, Sanji poked out his head with a bright, beaming smile that made everyone, even Zoro, hold their breaths.

"I would like you to meet my wife—well, I suppose she's still my fiancée for now!"

"Well, I hope it is not—" Brook started, but screamed as Sanji swung open the kitchen doors to reveal Pudding, arms crossed and all three of her eyes twitching.

"This time," Sanji declared, voice proud, "I'm getting married. And no explosions. No blood. No arranged drama. I picked her. And she—somehow—picked me."

Pudding rolled her eyes and growled. "I told you not to make it weird, Sanji—" even though she blushed ridiculously as Sanji pulled her close and whimpered a quiet, "-san."

"Too late," Zoro muttered around his drink. "Still weird. At least he's less of a pervert now since she's not 16."

"Why, you moss head—" Sanji quipped, "I'll let you know that Pudding is very mature."

Zoro jutted his jaw out as he flared his nostrils at the blonde. "That would be your type, wouldn't it, ero cook?"

"Oh?" Pudding snapped, already halfway to unsheathing a chocolate pistol she may or may not have smuggled in. "Insult my husband again, Sword Boy ."

Zoro took in her heated gaze, but she quickly turned red upon realizing her actions and words. She mouthed a quick "husband" before nearly collapsing into Sanji's waiting’s arms.

Sanji melted on the spot. "So perfect… even when she threatens murder."

"Ah, two weirdos. Made for each other," Zoro mused as the others laughed.

Suddenly, Sanji turned to make eyes at Nami, grasping her hands inevitably.

"I'm so sorry, Nami-swan. I wish-" But he could not finish his thoughts as Pudding's fingers twitched, and the murderous intent was back and aimed at him.

He quickly redirected his attention instantly—talking about appetizers like nothing happened. Before anyone could make a snide comment, but also feeling the murderous intent Zoro was emitting next to her, Nami leaned in and kissed Zoro on the cheek.

The restaurant stilled as everyone peered at the first mate and the navigator as if they suddenly grew two new heads each. Zoro seemed frozen in time, lost as all eyes were on him.

Nami cooed as she played with his earrings. "Zoro, please don't fight with Sanji-kun tonight. Well, at least...not yet."

And just like that, Zoro—demon of the seas, monster of the East Blue, and wielder of legendary blades—turned into a silent, slightly pink, very obedient tiger as he nodded.

He mumbled a gentle, "Fine, Nami."

Nami patted his head affectionately as he continued to blush. The entire table lost it.

Usopp's laugh was loudest, followed by Chopper's stunned "Did Nami just tame Zoro?!"

Franky wiped a tear. "Bro's domesticated."

Robin pinched his cheek in response as she cooed, "As if you can talk, Franky."

Sanji bit a dish towel as he sobbed. Pudding promptly dragged him to the kitchen to help with dessert.

As the night went on, they settled in, the table alive with plates and stories. But one empty chair sat near the center of the great round table, just to Zoro's left. A straw hat was etched into its wooden back as the drinks flowed and food was devoured.

No one sat there, and no one touched the plate. But occasionally, someone's eyes would drift toward it—Zoro's hand brushed near it, Nami's voice softened when she looked that way, and Sanji placed food beside it last, like he always had.

When Sanji finally joined the table, the empty chair was at his right. The two men let the quiet weight of its presence settle between them: the wings that let Luffy soar.

Above the bar, framed in wood and glass, was a sketch by Usopp. The rubber man was grinning, surrounded by his friends and family. Underneath, engraved in metal, was "Captain. Brother. Friend. Here's to our next adventure!"

Usopp regaled them with tales of Luffy's adventures—stories so exaggerated they eclipsed the serialized comic strips of Sora, Warrior of the Sea , and Noland's picture books combined. Kaya smiled beside him, holding his hand, her eyes proud and a little misty.

"The books are in high demand...I hope you all... don't mind," Kaya smiled sweetly. "I couldn't go on these adventures with you...but through Usopp, I...and everyone else who would gladly sail with Luffy...gets to."

Nami nodded with a grin, "Of course! He left his story all in...one piece. With us. Who better to tell it than the great Usopp?"

Usopp bawled. Seeing that Nami was near tears herself, Zoro threw an arm around her. She didn't protest. Robin chuckled at seeing Zoro so openly affectionate, and Nami received it without restraint.

"Oi, Long-nose. I read some of those stories-"

"Eh?" Sanji came in with another plate of food. "You can read, Marimo?"

And just like that, it felt like the Straw Hats were all back on the Thousand Sunny , sailing freely with their Captain.

Robin and Franky, still arm in arm, shared updates about their research and work worldwide. They were sailing to old battlegrounds, offering help, rebuilding where needed, collecting history, and ensuring something like the Void Century never repeated itself or someone like Imu never rose to power in secret. Chopper joined them occasionally when his schedule opened up, as he was the best doctor in high demand. Now, Kaya may assist in their work as she shared how she and Usopp wanted to start an orphanage for any children displaced by all the changes since the Final War.

"The ship may be lighter now," Franky said, "but the journey's still super ."

Brook had a record-breaking concert series, especially with Uta's surprise appearance. "My soul is quite literally in the music," he said, bowing deeply and somehow losing his afro in the process.

Jinbe had retired and was living peacefully on Fishman Island. "We've opened our borders," he said warmly," and started a school for surface studies. The world is changing."

Everyone was glowing in their own way, softened by time but still sharp with purpose. Nami gripped Zoro's hand and, with a side eye from Sanji, Zoro nodded in understanding to both of them. Zoro stood, and a silence fell—not heavy, but warm. He raised his glass.

"For Luffy," he said simply.

The room lifted their drinks in unison.

"To Luffy," they echoed. Some cried. Some smiled. Most did both.

And for the first time in two years, the silence that followed didn't ache. It glowed. Because Luffy had lived—and so would they. But for now? Tonight? They were at his table together, celebrating their growing family.

Chapter Text

Zoro stood by the grill as Sanji cooked. The kids were playing in the orchard as Pudding and Nami caught up with each other.

"10 years, huh?" Sanji said matter-of-factly.

Zoro lifted his head slightly to take in the changes in his old friend. He and his family were the first to arrive for the 5th Straw Hat crew reunion, and he was already cooking away.

At 33, Sanji was still sleek and refined. He had a little more crow's feet from smiling too much at his kids and swooning over his wife, Pudding. His long, blonde, wavy locks were tied back, especially when cooking. His style has remained about the same, with some upgrades from his successful businesses—tailored vests, open-collar shirts, and fitted slacks. He was playing around with the idea of growing a goatee, which Pudding did not mind. Even after eight years of marriage and three kids, she still swooned at him.

Zoro snorted at remembering their second reunion at Franky and Robin's in Water 7. He was bawling over his eldest son, who was only two then. He introduced his little prince as if the baby was his whole world, along with his young wife—who was only 20 then. If anything, it sparked a fire in Zoro to make his plans to marry Nami come true finally. And, of course, he refused to let the cook beat him in legacy building.

They both looked up briefly, hearing their kids' screams and laughter, as they played together again after a long time.

"You guys should come around more often, you know. Why wait for these reunions for the kids to see each other?"

"Mmm," Zoro nodded, but then ground his teeth. "I think distance may be best..."

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder, you know." Sanji chuckled, but Zoro's murderous intent was still evident. The only thing keeping him seated was the stern talking his own wife, Nami, had given him before the others arrived.

Sanji exhaled, shrugging, "You still won't let it go. He's just eight, Zoro."

But Zoro knew better. "Yeah...8 going on 18..."

At their third reunion on Drum Island, Nami and Zoro brought their triplets. Zoro had held babies before, but watching them sleep would make his heart burst if he looked at them too long. He and Nami proudly showed off their progeny when Lucien peered at the three bubbling girls with wide red-tinted brown eyes—all three of them—as he inherited his mother's eyes set in Sanji's fair skin and blonde locks.

Zoro never minded the boy before. Of course, he was his friend's son, polite and quiet while obsessed with elegance. If anything, Zoro appreciated the teasing Sanji's own son gave him. Sanji dotted on the boy like a treasure, while Lucien would call him "old man" to his face with a head tilt of arrogance. However, Zoro and everyone else could tell that Lucien thought the world of his father, often mimicking his chivalry and appreciating the joy his father's cooking brought to his family and friends.

However, Zoro was not ready when that third eye of his glowed. He whispered to no one, but Zoro heard it all the same.

"I'm going to marry you."

Zoro saw red then. How dare that little brat dare even imagine a world where his daughters, any of them, would be his...wife?

As Zoro shook the child, Lucien could not even explain which baby he was talking to. At that point, Sanji and Zoro battled it out as if they were going against Yonko again.

Sanji defended his son's "proactiveness," while Zoro drew a line in the sand: "He'll have to defeat me before he can get to my daughters."

Meanwhile, Pudding and Nami simply sighed as the others laughed. It struck them then that life had moved on, and somehow, their greatest battles now involved playground crushes and stolen sweets.

Suddenly, Zoro felt a warm hand on his elbow. Mirabelle, the youngest of the three, was soft, musical, and a spitting image of her mother, Pudding. She had big, round eyes and smooth, peach-colored curls, and always wore tiny dresses with ruffles. Perhaps it was because her mother was a chocolatier. Still, Mirabelle could always be counted on to have a dessert in hand.

She was shy, sweet, and a little psychic. She always knew when adults were sad, so even though this was only her second reunion, she seemed to have sweets ready to give to every Straw Hat. She would not let go of Brook and loved dancing and singing along to his playing. Now, she looked up at her favorite uncle with shining eyes and small hands stretched out.

"Mari-kun, I made you this!"

Zoro would have hated the nickname, as the baby picked up on how many times Sanji yelled "Marimo" at him, and suddenly, he became "Mari-kun." He didn't mind it, especially since Sanji hated it.

He smiled at the precocious little one. "Ah, thank you, Mirabelle - you remember how much I love rice balls."

"Ah, of course, Mari-kun!" She fidgeted with her fingers and blushed. "I remember everything you like."

Sanji glared and growled at the grill. "Ah, my beautiful princess, what about Papa - doesn't Papa get some?"

She twirled with a smile, "But Papa, I made these special for Mari-kun. He's my favorite!"

Sanji would have thrown himself into the ocean if he couldn't bear being away from his children, even when they stabbed him in the heart when they said things like this.

Zoro laughed at the cook's anguish and patted her on the head as he put the rice ball in his mouth.

"I put a special ingredient in there—" Zoro took a bite and froze as she continued, "Chocolate!"

Zoro would never spit it out, especially not when she looked at him with eyes so wide and joyful. "A-ah, Mari-kun, so-so good," he managed as he gritted and chewed.

Her face fell, "You...you don't like it, Mari-kun?"

Suddenly, Zoro grabbed the rest of her tiny plate and shoved it in his mouth with a bursting smile.

"How can I not love something made by Maribelle? Hmm? It is so good!"

Maribelle giggled and blushed. Meanwhile, Sanji seethed but appreciated his friend for enduring it for the sake of his daughter.

Zoro had aged just like the rest of them. He still had his thick jawline, but there were deeper laugh lines from the years Nami and his triplets gave him. Nami admonished him for it, but she did not mind his slightly longer stubble. It would tickle her when he leaned in for kisses, which he gave freely now. His scarred eye remained shut, but the other one was sharp as ever. He now was dutifully and proactively training his daughters in sword mastery and, if he could help it, beating the living shit out of any male who dared look them in the eye.

The muscle definition was still impressive, and his shirts still didn't fit him, especially when he trained with the girls. His green hair was slightly darker and tousled. He often opted for kimonos now, especially when he wanted to tease his wife, as he stretched or threw their daughters into the air, making them giggle widely. Even though the man was still gruff, he was no longer completely emotionally stunted. The series of babies, between his nieces and nephews and his own, softened him.

As Maribelle ran to get more "treats" for her "Mari-kun," Sanji chuckled.

"She is getting so big now...I miss when she only loved me."

Zoro smirked, "Oh, please. She's a cute kid...she loves everyone."

Sanji growled, "No, no. I was the number one man in her life before she met you!"

"Then have another..." Zoro said as he leaned back, then opened his eye with a smirk, "And maybe the new one won't love me more."

Sanji rolled his eyes, but it was true. All his children seemed to curse Sanji by loving Zoro or his progeny. Sanji believed Lucien's obsession was because the girls were just as much Nami as they were Zoro.

Although the girls were identical when they were born, they had developed their own personalities by age 6. They all had their father's seafoam-green hair, but their mother's warm brown eyes. Now, Sorami, the eldest by three seconds, had wavy shoulder-length hair and wore a matching headscarf Nojiko had made by hand for just the two of them.

"Eldest sisters club," she said when she gave it to the calm and observant one.

Reika preferred braiding her hair and loved sketching. She loved hanging out with her favorite uncle, Usopp, and her favorite aunt, Robin, begging them to tell her all about Luffy and history, as her eyes shone bright with the wild stories and deep mysteries. Her favorite pastime was telling scary stories. With the help of her magical aunt Robin, she loved scaring Usopp, Chopper, Brook, Nami, and all the other kids.

Tatsuha, the youngest of the triplets, was a miniature version of Zoro. She always preferred her hair short, even though Nami would beg her not to take swords to her locks.

She wore her father's bandana, and Nami made her a mini-haramaki. Zoro would never admit it, but she was his favorite - simply because he saw the fight in her that he remembered he had himself. When she glared, Nami would joke that she could see her knowing Haki before she was 10. Zoro took great pride in that.

She constantly begged Zoro to give her his swords, but Zoro would not relent, so she carried the shinai that Zoro crafted for her himself. She continually challenged her sisters to spar but secretly wanted to protect the whole world.

And so, after two years of not seeing each other, the kids were back at it.

"Come on, Lu - fight me!" Tatsuha shouted.

Celeste at her side, "Yeah, big bro - are you afraid of my captain!"

Lucien fumed, even as he blushed, "When did Tatsuha-chan become your captain?"

Celeste beamed as she professed her love, "Tatsuha will be the greatest in the world!"

Tatsuha suddenly turned red as she fidgeted, "Do-don't think your praise will work on me...idiot!"

"But I'm your right hand, Tatsuha! Like your dad was for Luffy-chan!"

Tatsuha said, "I'll beat my father and make a bigger wave than Luffy ever did!"

"We'll raid the candy islands and name them after Tatsuha!" Celeste added.

Lucien chuckled as he tried to channel all his swagger. "But then Tatsuha-chan would be even sweeter."

She looked at him with an empty stare as the wind swept between them.

"Idiot," was all she managed as Lucien crumbled.

Lucien watched as his sister's curly, dark hair with streaks of candy-pink bobbed exactly next to Tatsuha's short hair. They were both brash and bubbly together as Celeste hero-worshipped Tatsuha. He loved his mother's long hair and always preferred girls with long hair, but suddenly, he couldn't form his words when looking at Tatsuha and her boyish cut.

He mumbled as he collected himself, his brilliant blush reflecting on his princely features, "Well then, I'll be your left hand if Celeste is your right hand..."

"What was that, you weakling?" Tatsuha teased.

Lucien crumbled his fists and inhaled, then shouted, "Tatsuha. I will become the strongest man in the world and make you my wife!"

The kids could already hear their fathers fighting as Sanji inevitably tried to prevent Zoro from swinging his swords this way.

Tatsuha froze, her eyes wide, and as a blush crept up her face, she shouted back, "Not unless you beat me, you idiot!"

Then she ran full speed and whacked Lucien unconscious with the flat side of her twin shinais.

"Ah, it looks like Lucien has broken," Sorami said, crossing her arms and shaking her head as the boy fainted among the girls.

Mirabelle finally found them and giggled. "Ah, Lu-niki loves Tat-onee."

Reika bristled beside her, "I think it's too early to tell, Mira. He...he could just be an idiot, you know. And it's not like he will ever beat Tatsuha."

Before Mirabelle could respond, a call shouted from behind them, "YO! Who are these suuuupppppa kids I see?"

Everyone had stars in their eyes as they ran and shouted, "Robo-ojichan!"

Franky cracked a bit at the cruel name, and his wife, Robin, patted his back as he remained frozen in his pose. "It's okay, Franky. You are an old man, but nowhere near death."

Comparatively, Franky had always been older than the younger crew, as Brook's being a living skeleton made people forget that, technically, he was the oldest on the crew, followed by Jinbe.

However, at 46, Franky had barely changed by human standards—but his upgrades certainly had. His hair could change colors based on his mood; Celeste insisted it be pink when she visited. He'd reinforced his torso with lightweight alloys that let him lift three toddlers in one arm and spin them like a carousel.

Still, when the kids squealed "Robo-ojichan!" and leapt onto him like monkeys, he'd clutch his chest dramatically—only to crack a grin seconds later, shouting, "YOU LITTLE BRATS ARE SUUUUPER!"

He might not have aged like the rest, but time had softened something in Franky, especially when he looked at Robin. When he saw her watching the kids from beneath her sunhat, calm and elegant as always, he would wink or whisper some silly idea to make her smile. She would also be cruel and remind all the kids that Reika was her favorite.

Meanwhile, at 40, Robin looked effortlessly composed—her long black hair now tied back with a glinting clip, her signature violet eyes sharp yet fond. She wore a tailored button-up, open just enough to show the strength beneath the silk, and smart pants with heeled boots that somehow didn't make a sound unless she wanted them to.

She perched herself beside a garden bench as Reika and her exchanged stories. For a moment, she observed the chaos of the other children swarming over Franky like a jungle gym and, with a half-smile, said under her breath, "Must be nice. Being young."

Franky, mid-climb with Celeste hanging from one bicep, twisted down just long enough to kiss her on the cheek. "You keep me young every day," he whispered, grinning as her smile lingered just a beat longer.

"Ah, Robin-san, that is still cruel. Age comes for us all..." the skeleton said as he came behind them. "Though, as the oldest here, you cannot tell from looking at my skin."

At a staggering 100 years old, Brook remained a mental and metaphysical marvel. His skeleton frame was polished to a gleam, his suit tailored sharper than ever, and his afro, somehow, still intact (albeit a bit lopsided from one too many nap sessions with the kids). Though his bones ached in ghostly ways and his jokes were as old as time, Brook's soul was whole—grateful to witness the next generation bloom from the children of the nakama he once called family…and still did.

Usopp chuckled, "That is because you don't have skin. You're all bones."

At 29, Usopp had traded his baggy overalls for tailored vests and ink-stained cuffs, but the fire in his eyes was the same—maybe even brighter. His curly hair was longer now, often tied back in a low puff as he juggled scripts, sketches, and slingshots. Already a bestselling author and creative legend behind the "Tales of Luffy the Pirate King" series, Usopp was now setting his sights on the director's chair—preparing to bring their captain's legacy to life on screen, where every tall tale might finally walk, roar, and fly.

Promptly, Brook responded, "Please don't take my skeleton jokes, Usopp. There is only so much I have in my old age."

Kaya giggled as Jinbe walked in beside her. Kaya still radiated a quiet elegance shaped by resilience. Her once-delicate frame had strengthened from years of hands-on care at the orphanage, but she still moved with the grace of someone born to a tea garden and a storybook. Her honey-blonde hair was always swept back with a silk ribbon. Her soft eyes gleamed with warmth as she laughed alongside the dozens of children she and Usopp had adopted—too many to count and loved all the same.

"Come on, skeleton swordsman. As the oldest crew members, we cannot let these young ones see us as frail.” Jinbe professed.

At 56, Jinbe had the air of a well-worn monument—broad and immovable, with skin like weathered stone kissed by salt and time. His sideburns had grown fuller, now entirely silver like waves breaking over the reef, and his kimono bore the colors of Fishman Island's flag, embroidered with symbols of peace and unity. Despite his age, his eyes remained clear and sharp—gentle in gaze but deep, like the ocean trenches, always carrying the weight of wisdom and war.

As everyone gathered at Nami and Zoro's home for the 10th year after Luffy's passing, it felt like time had passed and stayed still at the same time. Nami and Pudding made their way down as they set up the table.

Nami gripped Zoro's arm as the kids and adults mingled, laughing, shouting, eating, and drinking.

"You haven't killed the boy yet?" Nami teased.

Zoro mumbled, "The day is early..."

Finally, the last of the crew came - with his own crew. Everyone stared wide-eyed as Chopper ran over with his eyes wet and bright. "GUYS!" He cried.

Chopper came bounding across the grass with a gallop that nearly startled the birds from the trees. His long legs stretched with newfound height, and his antlers were more formidable now—thicker at the base and branching like polished oak. At 27, he'd grown into his hybrid form more naturally, standing taller, broader through the shoulders, with a deeper voice that still cracked whenever he got too excited, like now.

Milky, his wife, was very pregnant the last time they saw her. They did not stay long at the previous reunion on Fishman Island. Still, they had spent plenty of time at the reunion two years prior on Drum Island, where everyone celebrated Milky and Chopper's engagement.

Milky arrived beside him a moment later, elegant even in chaos. Her long fur shimmered under the sun, braided down her back in silvery coils that looped around her waist like a sash. Her robes—half Wano, half Zou—fluttered with embroidered pawprints at the hem. "Hello, my precious nakama," she purred, her voice as warm as cocoa and twice as smooth. Without hesitation, she strode up to them and promptly bit them all in an affectionate greeting.

Now, she had a bundle in her arms and a satchel on her back. Then a wail came from her arms and another two from her back. Suddenly, three heads bobbed out from under Chopper's hat, giggling.

"What!?" everyone shouted as Chopper introduced his family. Apparently, since the last time they saw a very pregnant Milky and a bashful but proud Chopper, they had triplets: Mikan, Maru, and Mochi—now two years old. But they didn't stop there and had Tomo and Tochi, the twins, just a year later. And now, the bundle in Milky's arms cried again—Tama, the newborn.

The triplets—Mikan, Maru, and Mochi—tumbled out from under Chopper's hat like sugar-fueled tumbleweeds, identical in their bright eyes and soft antler nubs but each with a distinct flair. Mikan had a ribbon tied lopsided between her ears and charged straight for Brook, shouting, "Boney!" as if he were a carnival ride. Maru, who sported a tiny red coat stitched with a doctor's cross, waddled solemnly to Robin and handed her a leaf with great seriousness. Mochi, the fluffiest and quietest of the three, immediately crawled into Franky's lap, pointed at his nose, and asked, "Does that beep?"

"Oh my god," Franky whispered, nearly in tears. "They're SUPER."

The one-year-old twins, Tomo and Tochi, were strapped to a large woven cradle on Milky's back. They looked like two matching dumplings—one was already trying to nibble at Usopp's slingshot. At the same time, the other reached for Chopper's cotton-tail, giggling. And nestled safely in Milky's arms was Tama, the newborn, who quieted only when Brook hummed a lullaby and Milky swayed gently to the rhythm.

"I blinked, and you two started a reindeer army," Sanji muttered, his jaw slack, as he offered Milky a plate of fruit. She accepted it with a grateful bite to his arm.

"We only had six," Chopper replied innocently, ears twitching with pride. "That's not that many."

"Not that—!?" Usopp practically keeled over, clutching his chest. "That's more kids than Franky has fingers!"

"I counted eleven," Maru said solemnly, holding two fingers.

Sanji turned to his wife, "Pudding-chan-"

But he could barely get a word out as she slapped him clear into the sky. "S-sanji-san - to ask me so boldly in public!"

Robin chuckled as she adjusted Mikan's ribbon. "They're absolutely precious, Chopper. Are any of them studying medicine already?"

"All of them!" Chopper beamed, puffing up proudly. "Even Tama gets tummy rubs on a strict schedule!"

The crew erupted into laughter again, and the open meadow around them felt smaller, warmer—like the circle had grown in the best way. Just a few more chairs. A few more smiles. A few more dreams made real.

The kids all cooed at their new playmates while the adults congratulated the couple on their bursting family. Nami squealed as she took in the little reindeer faces.

"Oh! They remind me of Chopper when we first met him. So cute!"

She felt the energy beside her shift, and she turned to ask, "Zoro? What's wrong?"

Zoro glared at the scene before him, and with a firm voice, he said, "Nami. Did Chopper beat me?"

Nami was about to ask when he turned that heated look to her and said matter-of-factly, "We should have more."

Nami turned instantly red as she punched his head. "Zoro, you lunatic—are you trying to kill me?! We barely survived the triplets!"

He wrapped her in his arms and cradled her in his lap as he nuzzled her neck. Nami at 32 was everything and more than Zoro could have imagined when he first met her: sharper than ever, softer in the places only he got to see. The years had carved grace into her posture and wisdom into her eyes, but none of it dulled the fire in her. Her hair was a little longer now, swept into a loose knot when chasing after the girls, though stray strands always curled around her face like they refused to be tamed. Her curves were fuller from motherhood, her gait more grounded, but she still moved like the sea—capable of calm, chaos, and wonder all at once.

When she leaned into him, arms around his neck and a teasing glint in her eye, Zoro swore the world stilled. She smelled like tangerines and ocean salt, the scent of home. Laugh lines kissed the corners of her eyes—formed from too many smirks, stolen jokes at Sanji's expense, and nights laughing with him on the deck under the stars.

In his arms, she wasn't just the mapmaker, the thief, the captain of his heart. She was the woman who made a crew into a family and a house into a home. And Zoro, who never asked for much from the world, knew he had everything he needed in the weight of her body curled into his lap and the warmth of her hand resting on his chest.

She tried her best not to giggle or let them think she could manage another demon pregnancy. Having the girls was also the worst nine months of her life; she was always hot and hungry, but never slept, and was always sleepy. And yet, as her husband kissed her, she knew she was ready for whatever adventure he wanted to take with her.

"But I already goaded Sanji to —" he said, one eye trained on her. She knew that much like Pudding was to anything Sanji did, she was pretty weak to anything Zoro did.

"Y-you idiot! It's not a competition."

"What if we made it a drinking contest?" he said with a grin that pulled at Nami's heartstrings. This idiot... doesn't know what he does to me.

She managed to get out of his grasp and extended her hand as she pulled him up. "Let's go...Zoro...our family is waiting."

He got up and let the sun fully embrace him as the wind swept between the kids and adults of the Straw Hat crew. And once again, somewhere in the breeze, they heard the laugh that brought them back to one ship and one flag. They almost heard his voice shouting to them through the years: "You are my nakama!"

And as the sun dipped low over Cocoyashi, with laughter echoing and little feet running wild through orange groves, it was clear: the era of Luffy had ended, but the spirit of the Straw Hats —of family, of freedom, of dreaming together—was just getting started in the next generation.