Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

WORLD ECONOMY NEWS PAPER

EXTRA EDITION — EMPEROR SHOCK! A NEW ERA BEGINS!

NEW EMPERORS REVEALED!

Monkey D. Luffy, now recognized globally as an Emperor following the defeat of Kaido and Big Mom on Wano Kuni!

Buggy the Clown, leader of newly formed crime syndicate Cross Guild!

[Full profiles on page 4.]

UNPRECEDENTED MOVE: STRAWHAT COMMANDERS REVEALED!

After formation of the Strawhat Grand Fleet: Ten commanders beneath the Strawhat Emperor! Including the newest Strawhat member:

Nico Tine – The White Hunter

Bounty: 1.072.000.000 beli

Little is known about this mysterious new Strawhat. Speculation runs rampant: is he a former bounty hunter? A long-lost relative of Nico Robin, the Devil Child?

[More on page 7. Portraits on page 9.]

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

• What's next for the Revolutionary Army? [page 14]
• Buggy the Clown: Fluke or Genius? [page 19]
• Wildlife report: Den Den Mushi – the true cannibals of the animal kingdom?! [page 20]
• Cross Guild one the move! Rumors of an assembly! [page 24]

(Not) friend shaped kidnapping

— a few weeks earlier, on the Thousand Sunny —

It hasn't even been a minute since Law and the Strawhats had left Punk Hazard, the port still clearly visible behind them, when Law's transponder snail went off.

Bele-bele-bele

Bele-bele-bele

Bele-bele- gatcha

"Oi Law, are you there? Shachi here."

"Yes, what is it?"

"Please tell me you left Punk Hazard, captain. We just received the info that Doflamingo is on his way there."

Well, shit. Law's eyebrow ticked as he, although stiffly, bid Shachi goodbye and went as directly as possible to the Strawhats' navigator. 

Nami was currently studying her log pose and a map, comparing the direction of their course. Her eyes flickered in Law's direction when she noticed his approach.

"We need to change course, navigator-ya."

Namis head snapped up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Didn't you just tell me we need to get to Green Bit as quickly as possible? Why would you want to make a detour now?"

Law returned her stern gaze with his own. "Because Doflamingo is on his way here and we are not prepared to fight him now."

Nami's eyes widened at that and she immediately called out to Franky for a change of course. This, of course, caught the attention of Strawhat Luffy, swinging down from the front of the Sunny to check. "Nami, what's wrong?"

Before Nami could start, Law cut her off. "Doflamingo is on his way here." 

"Well that's good right? We can beat his ass right now!" Luffy beamed at him, punching his fists together.

Law gave Luffy a baffled look, mouth agape in shock. "No it isn't. You have no idea of what he's capable of, we need to avoid him at all costs and continue with our plan!"

Luffy just tilted his head and crossed his arms, looking deep in thought – even though he wasn't really capable of that.

"But what about Smokey and the others?"

"Doflamingo tends to ignore low marines. White Hunter-ya is the only one who is in danger, but–"

Before Law could end his sentence, the Strawhat already left him in favour of jumping to the back of the ship.

Luffy, putting both hands around his eyes to mimic binoculars, scanned the still visible port of Punk Hazard. Although the marines were mere specs at this distance, he still managed to pick out a certain white jacket with the classic marine coat of the higher ranks. Luffy grinned broadly as he pulled his arm back.

— meanwhile, on Punk Hazard —

Since the Strawhats had left, Smoker had managed to regain some semblance of order among the remainder of his men. Due to the wounds he had sustained in his battle with Vergo – several broken ribs and partial fractures – nothing too serious but enough to warrant bed rest for at least a week – Smoker had taken to sitting at the sideline and shouting commands from there.

The majority of his men were split into groups and, equipped with the yellow anti-gas suits made by Vegapunk, started retrieving their comrades that had fallen victim to Caesar Crown's shinokuni. The rest guarded the pirates they had caught earlier.

Just as he was starting to relax, smoking two fresh cigars, a feeling of unease and immediate danger overcame him. Followed by a pull on the back of his jacket and before he could even protest, his whole body was pulled back, over the edge of the port and out to sea.

It was only a split second in which he saw a familiar red and black sail and a straw hat before everything went black as the back of his head hit a solid wall.

— meanwhile, on the tanker —

Tashigi smiled to herself, watching the children play tag on the deck of the tanker they had confiscated (no, not stolen, they were marines and they needed it for their mission, thank you very much) and chuckled as even some of her men joined the game. 

A small movement to her right caught her attention and looking over, she noticed a small snail crawling towards her. A familiar snail. Very familiar indeed.

A GPSnail with a little chip in the shell, aptly named Samantha Calypso, that belonged to her superior. Then it hit her, dread crawling up her spine. If Samantha Calypso was here, it meant she wasn't with Smoker. And the Vice Admiral never went anywhere without her because if he did, he'd never arrive where he wanted to go.

Tashigi hoped she'd see Smoker again soon to return the snail. If he hadn't gotten lost until then. 

This was bad.

Very bad.

— on the Sunny, a few hours later —

When Smoker woke up, the first thing he noticed was a sharp pain at the back of his head, giving him a headache that could rival a hangover. Then he noticed the unfamiliar walls and…

"Oh hey, you're awake," Luffy grinned at him, too close for comfort.

A second passed.

Another.

WHAM 

"OW, WHAT WAS THAT FOR??" the Strawhat screamed, picking himself off the floor and rubbing his slightly bleeding nose.

"FOR KIDNAPPING ME, THAT'S WHAT!" Smoker called back, standing up and proceeding to walk for the door only to get hit in the face by it as it swung open with force.

Howling laughter erupted behind him, but Smoker didn't pay it any mind, instead staring down the green haired sword fighter blocking his way.

They shared a look, neither happy to be in this situation in the first place. Wordlessly, Zoro moved out of the way, letting the older marine pass, though he kept a hand on the hilt of his sword, watching his every move with a keen eye.

Smoker didn't care, he just wanted to leave. Why was he on this ship in the first place? As if being trapped in a cage with the Strawhat wasn't enough.

And he had been there. TWICE.

The eyes of the other Strawhats followed him as he made his way over the grassy deck and to the back of the ship, only for him to stop dead in his tracks.

There was only ocean, as far as the eye could see. No trace of any island, and let's be honest, Punk Hazard was hard not to notice, even at a distance. Meaning they were quite a ways away. Meaning he was trapped here.

FUCK.

A voice behind him made Smoker turn around. 

"I just saved your life, you know? For the…" the Strawhat started counting on his fingers, got lost, pulled a face and shrugged. "I dunno how many times but who cares."

"And from what did you think you had to save me by TAKING ME ON YOUR GODDAMN SHIP?" Smoker gritted out, his eye twitching at the Strawhats' antics.

"Torao said the weird flamongo was coming and you would be in danger, so I saved you. You're welcome, Smokey." He ended his explanation with the trademark grin of a brainless idiot.

Also, who the hell was Torao. Didn't matter, Smoker had no intention of staying on this ship for longer than he had to.

He could fly off by using his smoke fruit ability, but for that he needed to know where to go. Good thing he had a small snail companion that could help with that. His hand reached for the small pocket on the inside of his jacket, only for it to not find anything in it.

He searched the pocket on the other side. Then the outside pockets. Pant pockets.

She was gone.

A small memory returned of a certain soon-to-be-ex warlord taking all the den-den-mushis he and his men had on them when they arrived in Punk Hazard.

Which must have included his little GPSnail. Little Samantha Calypso. And he didn't even notice.

FUCK.

AGAIN.

"Are you looking for something?" the Strawhat inquired, having watched Smoker look through his pockets with growing panic.

He received an angry glare as a response alongside a gruff "None of your business, pirate."

How the hell did he not notice that his GPSnail was gone? It should have been obvious to him when he started getting lost back in the lab. It had taken him quite a lot of time to find Vergo, who – as he found out later – had attacked Tashigi and his men and had fought Law before Smoker even found him.

As much as he hated to admit it, Smoker was here to stay, for better or for worse (it was only the latter, he was sure of that).

Ignoring the Strawhat, who proceeded to follow him like a lost duckling, Smoker made his way over to the helm, looking for the crew's navigator. If his memory served him correctly she was one of the few… less insane members of the crew and probably the only one able to tell him when he'll be able to leave the ship.

The Thousand Sunny, for a ship belonging to one of the most notorious crews that had made it to the New World, was quite small. Small enough for Smoker to easily find the helm, currently manned by the blue-haired cyborg.

Making his way over, he made brief eye contact with Trafalgar Law sitting on the bench-like structure around the main mast. They exchanged an equally disgruntled look and for a brief moment Smoker wondered how in hell Law managed with this crew.

He probably didn't and was as mad about it as Smoker himself.

With a huff the marine continued to the helm in search of an orange mop of hair. Good thing the Strawhats all had some sort of feature that made them easy to find even if you had only known them for a little while.

And Smoker had known them for far longer than that. Or most of them at least.

Taking the last steps up to the helm revealed the navigator standing next to the cyborg, checking the wind and… whatever it was that navigators do. 

She turned and looked at Smoker, her expression neutral but her posture stiff and on edge. 

Smoker took a breath, trying to seem as non-threatening as he could. If there was anyone on a ship you shouldn't piss off it was the navigator and the cook. "Just tell me when we're going to reach another island."

Nami watched him quietly, her eyes narrowing slightly. 

Smoker sighed. "Please?"

Finally Nami took her eyes off of him, checking her log pose again. "We'll be reaching Green Bit in about four days."

Smoker waited another moment, but it seemed this was all the information he'd get. No use in staying up here, he walked back down onto the main deck. Also, what kind of ship had grass growing on its deck? The bushes he could excuse, but an entire lawn? This ship was just as weird as its crew.

Four days. He had to stay here for four whole days. Smoker took out two cigars, lighting them simultaneously. He could still feel the stares of the Strawhat crew, particularly the swordsman's and Nico Robin's. Though Strawhat Luffy was an idiot and seemed to see no issue with having a marine vice-admiral on his ship, didn't mean the rest of the crew agreed with it.

They didn't trust him and they had good reason not to – he was an enemy after all. Trying to ask if he could call Tashigi or his base would be useless due to the risk it posed, and Smoker was well aware of that.

So, instead of sulking on the deck and being watched by everyone, Smoker proceeded to turn into a cloud of smoke, fly up onto the roof of the main mast’s crow’s nest (why the hell did it have a roof, what kind of ship was this?) and settle there. He was still sulking, though. Shittiest day ever – even worse than when he got promoted for "defeating Sir Crocodile" back in Alabasta.

For a second he wondered what Crocodile was up to now.

— a little while later —

Someone was shouting something and Smoker had decided to perfectly ignore it. That was until a hand came flying up the roof, grabbing him roughly by the ankle and starting to pull him down. Turning his leg into smoke forced the hand to let go, though it was followed by a certain captain screaming. "OOOOOIIIIII, SMOKEYYYYYY."

Smoker was already regretting his choice, but he looked down anyway, seeing Luffy waving at him with a big grin. Next to him stood the small… what was it again? A reindeer or something, didn't matter though, but apparently the little creature was the ship's doctor. He'd seen him taking care of some of his men and the children back on Punk Hazard.

Luffy once again called out to Smoker. "OOOOOIIII, FOOD IS ALMOST READYYYYY!" 

If this was his life for the next four days, Smoker wasn't sure his sanity would stay intact once he got back to his base.

The Strawhat kept on calling, so for everyone and mostly Smoker's own nerves and ability to hear, he began floating down to the deck of the ship. He wanted to ignore the pirates, he really did, but he knew it would be a lost cause.

The Strawhat didn't even wait for Smoker – he had already turned and just called back to him. "Sanji made dinner! COME ON!"

And with that he disappeared behind a door. There were other voices too, muted behind the wooden door, but some loud enough to make out who was talking.

Glancing down he noticed the little doctor still standing there, looking towards the door in absolute shock. Then, with trembling hooves, the reindeer turned to Smoker with a determined look. "A-a-a-as the ship's doctor I order you to the infirmary after dinner!" he exclaimed before rushing off to the door the Strawhat hat vanished behind.

Smoker heaved a sigh.

— later —

The dinner went… as chaotic as expected, and yet not at all how Smoker would have thought it would. How this one little ship could hold so much food was beyond him, and Luffy alone had eaten enough to feed an entire marine warship.

Not wanting to deal with the Strawhats more than he had to – and because he was warned by several people about their captain’s sticky fingers when it came to food – Smoker had just taken a plate and eaten outside. 

It was a calm, clear night, the ship softly swaying on the waves with a gentle wind in the sails. The noises from the kitchen slowly dissipated as the night went on, the Strawhats preparing for the night with a different routine each.

Hana Hana no Birthmark

Smoker sat on the edge of the infirmary cot, arms crossed, jaw tight. His jacket was off – not that it had done much good during the Punk Hazard cold – and he waited in practiced silence while the small doctor prepped bandages and ointments with surgical precision.

Smoker still wasn't entirely convinced this creature wasn't just a glorified mascot. But then Chopper stepped into view with a clipboard, his tone serious.

"Any numbness in the fingers? Toes? Skin that feels… waxy or rubbery?"

"… No?" Smoker said.

Chopper didn't look up. "That's not helpful. Be specific."

Just like that – no stuttering, no fluttering – Smoker watched the reindeer click fully into doctor mode. It was… jarring. And impressive. He let the kid poke and prod, checking his ribs, bruises, and the angry red scrape across his shoulder blade from his fight with Vergo. Chopper made tiny notes, hummed to himself, muttered something about "typical combat trauma," and moved on.

"You're lucky," Chopper said finally. "No life-threatening injuries. Just some broken ribs and fissures in your humerus and collarbone. But I'm more concerned about the cold exposure."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not! You were walking around half-naked on a split-season death island!" Chopper burst, voice cracking. "You could've lost a toe! Or circulation! Or worse–!"

"I said I'm fine."

Chopper turned, slowly. His pupils doubled in size. His voice dropped to a trembling whisper. "... But what if you weren't?"

Smoker blinked. Those big, black, watery eyes. The trembling lower lip. The tiny sniffle. Oh no. Was this manipulation? Could this thing weaponize cuteness?

Smoker coughed. "It's my devil fruit. I can regulate my internal temperature when I turn into smoke. It's simple thermodynamics. More pressure means higher density, and compressing gases increases heat. I don't feel cold like normal people."

Chopper gasped. "Wait, really?!"

"… Yes."

Chopper narrowed his eyes for a split second before going back to cooing concern mode. "Still! That doesn't mean your skin can't get damaged. External tissue isn't made of smoke!"

Smoker sighed, long-suffering. "Fine. You're the doctor."

Chopper beamed. He absolutely knew what he was doing.

The exam wrapped up quickly after that. Chopper applied a salve that stung more than Smoker admitted, and then reached for bandages. As he did, his gaze caught on something.

"Huh."

Smoker tensed.

Chopper pointed at his thigh. "You have a birthmark."

Smoker glanced down. Just above his knee, a soft brown mark shaped like dahlia.

"Oh! Robin has one kinda like that," Chopper said brightly. "But hers is– wait, I'm not supposed to say where."

He breezed past it with the speed of a racing boat. "Anyway! Did I ever tell you about the time I had to treat my captain and swordsman for frostbite?"

Smoker blinked. "... No?"

Chopper launched into it with the confidence of someone who'd told this story at every party. "Luffy didn't wear a jacket – because he never wears a jacket – and Zoro thought it'd be 'good mental training' to go swimming in subzero water! It was a winter island! During winter! I almost had to amputate three toes and a tongue!" He laughed.

Smoker stared.

The moment the little reindeer said, "Okay, you're free to go," Smoker was gone. Just – smoke trail, door slam, gone.

Behind him, Chopper blinked. "... Was it something I said?"

Snail away, snail away, snail away

Smoker sat near the helm, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

To anyone else, he looked calm. Maybe brooding. Maybe annoyed by the distant sound of Luffy begging Sanji to feed him – without success.

But inside? He was a wreck.

He missed her.

Samantha Calypso, his GPSnail. His most loyal companion. The calm voice of reason when the maps made no sense. The steady "recalculating route" when he took a wrong turn at literally every port. The quiet judgement in her eyes when he still couldn't read a compass.

They'd been partners since he was a cadet. She always knew where he was, even when he didn't. Her shell had that tiny chip in it from the time they got caught in a bar brawl in Loguetown. Her voice had a slight skip in it, like a hiccup, from the time he dropped her into a puddle during a mission gone wrong.

He hadn't seen her since Punk Hazard. In the chaos, they had gotten separated. And then the Strawhat had kidnapped him, and he didn't get the opportunity to go back. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Outwardly, he lit a cigar with all the emotion of a stone wall. Inwardly, he was clutching a tiny snail-shaped hole in his chest.

He stared off at the sea. He could almost hear her now.

Turn left in 30 meters.

You're going the wrong way.

You absolute moron.

He sighed. Just barely.

"Everything okay?" Chopper asked, toddling past with a juice box.

"Fine," Smoker grunted.

Chopper blinked. "You look kinda... sad."

"I'm not."

"Okay!" Chopper said cheerfully, and ran off.

Smoker looked back at the sea. Thought about Samantha Calypso and whether she was safe. Whether someone was taking care of her. Feeding her data updates. Polishing her shell.

He'd find her again. He would.

Chapter Text

Smart people talking to each other

— The next day —

Smoker had spent the night inside the crow's nest house, if it could be called that. There was no force in the world that could get him to sleep in the men's cabin, not now, not ever. And nobody had stopped him anyway.

The next morning was, well, chaotic for a variety of reasons. Smoker had woken up earlier than usual so he wouldn't be bothered in the bath, but so had the cook – Blackleg Sanji. Not even looking at Smoker, the cook went on to perform what could only be called an absolute nightmare of a hair and skincare routine. Smoker stopped counting after step 15 and left the bathroom shortly after.

The rest of the Strawhats slowly trickled out of their beds as well, with the captain being dead last. Having to watch the swordsman wrangle his captain back to brush his teeth was a surreal experience, and Smoker was almost invested in the techniques Zoro used. They could be useful if Smoker ever wanted to capture the Strawhat at some point. Maybe he should take notes.

Breakfast was impressive and equally as chaotic – with food and arms flying over the table, the women calmly drinking tea, while the sniper and the doctor built the tallest and potentially deadliest sugar sandwich that nobody should have ever created.

To escape the chaos, Smoker had elected to sit at the far end of the table and, surprisingly, Law had decided to join him. The shared exhaustion of having to almost babysit a crew that was known to take on enemies far greater than themselves hung over both of them.

"I still don't understand why you chose to ally yourself with the Strawhat, Law," Smoker grunted, taking a bite of his food.

Law sighed. "I had hopes."

The ex-warlord didn't need to elaborate, swatting Luffy's hand away with his sword handle. The hand took a detour and started to go for Smoker's plate instead. The Vice Admiral covered his fork in haki and stabbed the wayward appendage. 

"OI, WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Luffy complained from the other end of the table, rubbing his hand that didn't even take any damage.

Smoker raised an eyebrow and glared at him, effectively shutting him up. The tense atmosphere didn't hold long as Sanji brought out another round of donuts which Luffy tried to devour immediately. 

To his side, Law smirked. "A haki infused fork. You take your breakfast pretty seriously."

"I'm a marine. Stopping pirates from stealing is my job," Smoker huffed, but there was a faint hint of pride too. "Even if it's just my breakfast."

— later that morning —

Smoker was slowly adjusting to being around the Strawhats. Or rather – avoiding them. Franky and Usopp had been brave enough to approach him and offer a tour of the ship. Though it felt more like a bragging opportunity to Smoker. 

Nevertheless, the Thousand Sunny did deserve to be bragged about. From the unusual outer design with the lawn, a slide and a steering wheel located at the front, all the way to the soldier dock system. Smoker was impressed. More than that – when Franky showed him his rhino bike, he had to seriously try to not ask more questions about it. Smoker had always had a soft spot for bikes.

The ship also sported an impressive aquarium – housing a vast array of fish. Usopp had pointed out literally every single fish and even told Smoker their names. Who in their right mind named all of these? It went on for so long that Smoker just tuned the longnose out. A useful ability every marine had to learn once they had to sit through one of Commodore Brannew's presentations.

At the end of the tour he was shown the library, which caught Smoker by surprise. He hadn't thought the Strawhats – except for the two women – were interested in books or even knew how to read. Not enough to warrant an entire library at least.

Which is why Smoker had gone there after the tour had concluded. It was quiet, and perhaps allowed the marine to gather some information. Not that he expected to find grand secrets or anything, but even small things could add some pieces to the whole puzzle.

While he was reading an older looking book about pottery, the library door opened and closed softly. As Smoker looked up he made eye contact with Nico Robin. She gave a small smile before walking off, seemingly not too bothered by his presence. 

The "devil child" Nico Robin – wanted by the government since she had been just a child, simply because she had been raised by the scholars on Ohara. Placing a bounty on a child had never sat right with Smoker. 

The archeologist sat down on the bench on the other side of the mapping table, reading a small, dark red book.

After a few minutes Robin decided to break the silence that had enveloped the room. "I'm surprised how calm you are, considering that you are on a pirate ship." 

Smoker glanced over at her and huffed. "What choice do I have?" 

And it was true. Trying to fight and capture the entire crew was impossible for him alone and trying to steal a vessel was just as stupid, considering the only ones the ship had were made for short travel, not the open sea. Calling for backup was one of the options Smoker had considered more seriously, but the Strawhats were notorious for escaping them and Smoker also had no idea how long it would take for a ship to find them. It was best to just wait until they arrived at Green Bit.

"I've always wondered why you were so keen on following my captain all the way to the New World. You've certainly met pirates with higher bounties back in Loguetown, haven't you?" Robin inquired, her eyes still on the book in her hands.

"That is none of your business," he answered, short and sharp.

With a soft snap Robin closed her book and turned to Smoker. "I'm sure you have questions for me and I have for you. Why don't we play a little game? A question for a question," she smiled serenely at him, though her eyes were sharp and calculating.

An interesting idea, and Smoker did have some questions that Nico Robin might be able to answer. An exchange of information would be beneficial if he wanted to find out what the Strawhats' goal was. But he'd have to be cautious. 

"I'm listening," he said, voice low and defenses high. This wasn't just an exchange, it was a battle of wits. A gamble of how much they were willing to say in order to get the answers they wanted. 

Nico Robin chuckled and placed her hands comfortably on her knees. "As our guest I'll let you ask first."

Smoker leaned back and crossed his arms. He should start simple, see how much truth lied in her answers. "Why would you help Law in taking down Doflamingo?"

"Because Luffy hates injustice as much as you do. Especially if it is directed at people Luffy considers his friends, as well as innocent people. You should know this better than any other marine after what happened in Alabasta," she answered, her eyes narrowing just a bit. "Why do you keep hunting Luffy?"

"Because he was the first pirate that escaped me in Loguetown. And because he smiled in the face of death," he stated simply, omitting the fact that Strawhat Luffy irritated him to hell and back with his carelessness. Who did he think he was.

This made Robin smile slightly, whispering to herself. "Why does that not surprise me."

It was Smoker's turn to ask again and he took a short moment to think before asking his question. "What can you tell me about Ohara and its destruction?"

A tasteless question and, judging by Robin's reaction, a heavy one for her. But he needed to know. After Alabasta and the numerous other cover-ups he'd witnessed, he'd started questioning if the government really wanted to save face before the people or if there was more to it. And Smoker had to know.

Robin took a breath, collecting herself while studying Smoker, searching for… something. Her voice was quiet but steady when she finally answered. "My home was destroyed because the researchers had found information about the void century. Even the ships evacuating the civilians were shot down. I was the sole survivor and given a bounty because I can read the poneglyphs."

Smoker raised an eyebrow. "According to the government Ohara was destroyed because your people wanted to find, and potentially use, the ancient weapons," he stated calmly, keeping his voice free of accusation.

Robin's face hardened slightly at that, her voice quiet but determined as she looked Smoker directly in the eyes. "They lied."

And there it was. The confirmation Smoker had been looking for. It was no secret that the government took care of people dangerous to their belief – that was quite literally the job of the CP agents, especially CP0. 

But condemning an entire island filled with innocent people? Only because there was a chance they could have heard something about anything from over 900 years ago? 

This wasn't a mere case of justice anymore, and it seemed it hadn't been from the start.

Smoker took a breath. "Thank you for telling me. It's your turn now, and since I technically asked two questions, you can do the same."

Robin's shoulders lowered slightly as she visibly relaxed, welcoming the change of topic. 

"Alright, tell me about yourself, about your family," she said serenely.

Tell her about his family? A broad question and a strange one for sure. She could have asked literally anything but chose this. Smoker narrowed his eyes slightly before answering. 

"If that is what you want to know, sure, I'll tell you. I was born on the Grand Line, never met my mother, and my father took me to Loguetown when I was about four – to see the rest of his family, though I only ever met my aunt once. I think he had another younger sister but I never met her. When I was eleven my father died and at 16 I joined the marines. Got my first command in Loguetown until I met your captain and the rest you probably know," he rattled off, keeping it vague and short. His family wasn't really a topic he'd ever spoken about since it wasn't that interesting or important.

Though Robin's eyes told him she wasn't quite satisfied with the answer, making him a little uncomfortable.

"What?" he huffed.

Robin put a hand to her chin in thought. "I was just wondering…" she drifted off, her eyes wandering over the bookshelves. "Can you tell me more about your mother?"

This caught Smoker off-guard. Why did she want to know more about her? He cleared his voice, trying to remember the few things he knew. "I know barely anything about her, much less what she looked like. I do know she's from West Blue and my father met her on the Grand Line, where they worked on the same ship for a while. I think they had an argument and then separated, with me staying with my father. He never really talked about her either."

He looked over at Robin, who was deep in thought, hands clasped in her lap and staring at the floor. 

"Something wrong?" Smoker asked tentatively.

Robin started at that, her surprise quickly morphing into a dismissive chuckle. "No no, it's alright. I just…" she looked over at Smoker, giving him a small smile, "I remembered something is all, nothing important."

Nothing important indeed, if it had distracted her that much. As much as Smoker wanted to ask more, he felt he'd already overstepped enough boundaries when asking about Ohara. 

A loud cracking noise from beyond the door caught both of their attention and they shared a confused look. 

Robin sighed good-naturedly before standing up. "Please excuse me, I think I should check that. Perhaps we can continue this game some other time?"

"I wouldn't mind. You seem to be the only level-headed one on this ship full of idiots," Smoker replied, waving his hand in a circular motion.

This made Robin laugh quietly as she stepped over to the door and left the library. Before leaving she turned around one last time. "By the way, you should really join us for dinner sometime. It's quite fun."

Dinner on the Sunny

Smoker had been in a lot of uncomfortable situations in his life. Explosions. Sea water. Pirate raids. Meetings with Akainu. But this – this was something else entirely.

He sat stiff-backed at the long dining table on the Sunny, flanked by chaos. Actual chaos. Possibly a war crime disguised as dinner. There was talking. There was shouting. Someone was singing – it might've been the skeleton. 

Law sat across from him looking like someone who had bitten into a lemon and then decided to hate lemons forever.

Food appeared in mountains. Smoker wasn't sure when it started or if it would ever stop. Platters of meat, rice, noodles, grilled fish, bowls of soup, something he couldn't even identify – and every single thing smelled like heaven.

He'd tried to ignore it. Tried to sit in quiet judgment. But then he took one bite.

And it was the best goddamn bite he'd had in his life.

He glanced toward the kitchen. There was Black Leg Sanji, pink apron tied neatly around his waist, calmly stirring a pot while arguing with Strawhat over a missing ladle. Sanji slapped a hand away from a simmering pan with practiced grace and returned to plating a stew like he wasn't also capable of kicking someone through a wall.

It was jarring.

Even more jarring: they were all like this.

The Strawhats weren't pirates tonight. They were loud, messy, irritating people who talked with their mouths full and passed plates like a family that had never heard of table manners. They teased, bickered, and offered second helpings in the same breath.

It would've been almost charming.

If Strawhat Luffy wasn't stealing food off his plate.

Smoker narrowed his eyes. He watched Luffy's hand creep toward the edge of his plate again, trying and failing to appear sneaky.

Slap.

"Aha!" Luffy yelped, clutching his fingers. "That was mean!"

"That was mine."

"You weren't eating it fast enough," Luffy muttered, pouting.

Across the table, Law growled something incomprehensible as Luffy's other hand swiped a dumpling off his plate.

Smoker caught his eye. They shared a brief moment of mutual suffering. And then, without warning, something small climbed into his lap. Smoker froze.

Chopper, tiny hooves and all, settled comfortably like this was the most normal thing in the world. He picked up his bowl and tucked into his meal with contented hums.

"… What are you doing?" Smoker asked, low and sharp.

"Defense mechanism against the glutton," Chopper said around a mouthful of rice.

"That's not a real thing."

"It is now," Chopper said cheerfully.

Smoker stared at him. At the tiny reindeer, legs swinging, fuzzy and soft and blameless.

He scowled. Looked away. Pretended not to notice how impossibly cute Chopper's ears were.

Dinner continued. Luffy stole two more dumplings and so much meat. Usopp told a story about a sea king that definitely didn't happen. The cook offered wine to the ladies, and Brook and Franky started singing in harmony.

It was the worst meal Smoker had ever experienced. It was also, somehow, the best.

Just as he was coming to terms with the reindeer in his lap and the pirate captain with the sticky fingers, Sanji swept out of the kitchen, towel over his shoulder and a steaming platter in hand.

"I present to you tonight's main course," he said with dramatic flair, holding the dish high. "Grilled filets of Gin Richard and Sword the Seventh, glazed in citrus miso–"

"MEAT!" Luffy shouted, launching forward with both arms outstretched.

Thwack.

Sanji didn't even look. He just turned mid-step and kicked Luffy across the table with the elegance of a man swatting a fly. Luffy crashed into the wall with a grin and a full "OWWWW!" and then immediately bounced back like nothing happened.

Smoker stared. That was not how you treated a captain. That was not how anyone treated a captain.

But no one seemed concerned. In fact, Zoro didn't even blink. Nami was reaching for the bread. Robin took a sip of wine. Sanji continued plating the fish like he hadn't just airborne the most wanted man in the world.

Chopper, still sitting squarely in Smoker's lap, said helpfully, "We name our fish when we catch them. Sometimes with dumb names, just to make Sanji say them out loud. Like one time we had Updog and Toe nails."

Smoker dragged a hand down his face, expression slowly flattening. There were no sane people on this ship.

The honor of naming fish

Smoker wasn't saying he liked it here. But he was adjusting.

He'd learned how to defend his breakfast with a fork and a death glare. He'd figured out the pillow situation – turns out you could prevent Luffy from stealing it if you pinned one arm over it while you slept. Small victories.

Today, the Sunny drifted lazily across calm water, the kind of afternoon where nothing much happened. A rare quiet. The women were stationed at the far end of the ship, maps spread, books open, and the cook hovering with drinks and little plates of sliced fruit.

Smoker sat near the stern with Chopper, Usopp, and Franky, half-involved in a fishing attempt that had started with grand stories and now settled into silence. Usopp, after an hour of telling tales about his heroic feats as a great warrior of the sea (every one of them an obvious lie), had finally run out of material and flopped backward on the deck, fishing line still dangling off the side.

Zoro was training nearby, sword flashing through the air in clean, methodical movements. His eyes flicked to Smoker now and then – subtle, like he was making sure the marine wasn't about to attack or explode. Brook strummed quiet melodies somewhere behind them. And Law…

Law looked like he was trying to merge with the deck planks to avoid Luffy, who ricocheted across the ship in a blur of limbs, joy, and poor impulse control.

Smoker lit another cigar. Chopper gave him a look.

"… What?" Smoker asked.

"You said you'd cut down."

"I did cut down."

Chopper squinted, but said nothing more.

Eventually, the sun began to drop. The fish weren't biting. They'd only caught three between the four of them – and Smoker, to his own quiet satisfaction, had reeled in one of them. Garp's insufferable field trips were finally paying off.

They gathered the bucket and made their way to the aquarium tank. Franky, ever ceremonious, held his fish high above the water.

"I dub thee – External Screw Bit KT-25711," he intoned, and dropped it in with a splash.

Smoker blinked. "You named it."

"Of course!" Franky said. "He deserves dignity!"

"Now you name yours!" Chopper said, eyes wide and sparkling.

Smoker looked at him. Then at Usopp, who nodded solemnly like this was a sacred rite. "It's an honor, really. A tradition."

Smoker glanced at his fish. It looked back up at him, unbothered.

Franky gasped. "Maybe yours will break the record. Sword the Fourth has survived the longest so far."

"I thought we ate Sword," Smoker said.

"That was Sword the Seventh," Chopper chirped. "Zoro only names his fish Sword."

Smoker sighed. Picked up the fish.

"This is Smoked Chicken," he said flatly, and dropped it into the tank.

He walked away before anyone could say anything else. But as he reached the hallway, he caught the tail end of the next victim in the naming ritual.

"Okay, Torao, now it's your turn!" Chopper insisted.

"You better pick a good name. This could be the chosen one!" added Usopp with ceremonial flair.

A pause. Then, Law's voice, deadpan and exhausted: "... My will to live."

Smoker kept walking. Lit another cigar. Didn't even try to stop the eyeroll.

— a random evening —

Sanji emerged from the kitchen, face unreadable, towel over one shoulder, holding the final platter like he was presenting a eulogy and not, in fact, dinner. He set it down with precise grace.

"For our final dish of the evening," he said, in a voice so flat it could've been a cutting board, "My will to live, served over garlic rice with pickled daikon. Extra salty."

Silence. Total, stunned silence. And then the table detonated.

Brook howled. "YOHOHOHO, HE SAID IT–!"

Chopper screamed "NOOOOOOOO!" like something sacred had been defiled.

Robin blinked slowly. "Impeccable seasoning," she murmured.

Franky clutched his heart and yelled, "SUPER TRAGIC!"

Law closed his eyes. "I hate all of you."

Sanji lit a cigarette with one hand and passed out plates with the other. "I regret nothing."

Across the table, Smoker watched the spectacle unfold, one eyebrow twitching. He huffed once, short and sharp – and a small grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Chapter Text

Nicknames

It was another sunny day, the wind calm and the sky blue. Usopp, Chopper and Luffy sat at the bow, fishing rods in hand, listening to the tales the longnose conjured up out of thin air. Soft tunes carried over the lawn deck from where Brook was practicing with his violin. 

The door to the kitchen opened, Sanji emerging from within with a tray of drinks and sweets for Nami and Robin, who were relaxing on the lawn chairs nearby. A bit further back was Zoro, snoring contently with his hands behind his head while Franky repainted parts of the railing.

On days like these Smoker almost forgot he was on a pirate ship, watching everything from his perch up on the mast. Most of the crew were barely even adults and had already faced some of the greatest threats the world had to offer, and yet they never lost their spark, their passion for adventure.

"Hey guys, I've made some sandwiches," the cook called out, having brought out even more trays filled with a variety of snacks. There were even different sizes, some small and some so big they really shouldn't be called a snack anymore.

Luffy was the first to get to the food, as always. He'd catapulted himself from his spot even before the cook had said anything, fishing rod completely forgotten and almost dropped into the ocean – if it hadn't been for Usopp's reflexes.

Slowly, the rest of the crew started to gather and Smoker decided to leave his post as well, floating down to sit on the railing nearby, snatching a sandwich with his smoke before the cook even noticed. Sanji was too busy keeping Luffy from eating all the food anyway. 

A small smile formed on Smoker's face, watching the chaos unfold. A movement to his right caught his attention and he looked over to see Brook approach him. The skeleton leaned on the railing next to him, eating a sandwich of his own. Smoker hadn't spoken much with the musician, though he'd gotten the feeling out of all the Strawhats he was the most neutral towards him.

"Yohohoho, what a lovely day, isn't it?" the skeleton began, looking up at the blue sky.

Smoker arched an eyebrow before looking up as well. "I guess?"

Brooks' gaze shifted back down towards Smoker. "You know, I've been wondering something."

"And what would that be?" Smoker asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to gather the skeleton's intentions but failing because a skull didn't have much in terms of facial expressions.

"Why does everyone call you Smoker?" Brook finally asked, catching the marine slightly off guard. "It is a bit of an odd name, especially for you."

Smoker huffed, smiling slightly. "It's a longer story. And boring, too."

"I'd love to hear it, if you don't mind. And since I'm already dead you can't bore me to death, yohohoho," Brook laughed.

"... Fine," Smoker sighed. "I got the name when I joined the marines back in the day. I had a name before, but left it behind after my dad died. Grew up on the streets anyway, no use for a name there. I didn't really have much in terms of friends either until a year or so into training, when we finally got to go on our first ship. I had two roommates and across from our cabin were two girls we had a sort of rivalry with."

Brook nodded along, listening intently. Smoker took a breath, exhaling smoke. "Over time each of us got a nickname, usually because of something stupid we did. One of my roommates was called Diez, but written as an X. So we all started calling him Eggs and he hated it. He also hated eggs as food," Smoker chuckled at the memory of it.

"My other roommate was one of the tallest kids and kept on stumbling and hitting his head on door frames. From then on we called him Tumbleweed. Rumors had it that he was former Fleet Admiral Sengoku's kid," Smoker continued, taking another drag of his cigar.

Nami, having noticed the two talking nearby, walked over to escape the chaos. There was also a little curiosity in her eyes. "What are you two talking about?"

"Smoker was just telling me about his old marine friends, yohohoho," Brook said and Smoker nodded in confirmation.

"Anyway, Hina, one of the girls, didn't have a nickname. She beat everyone up who tried, and since she always talked of herself in the third person it was funny enough to just call her Hina but use her name as much as possible. The other girl was a troublemaker and loved only three things. Money, cigarettes and tangerines. I still don't know how she managed to get everyone to owe her beli, but that's what got her the nickname Beli."

Brook perked up at that and looked over to the rest of the crew. "Yohohoho, what a lively bunch."

Nami, leaning on the railing next to Brook, had gone quiet, looking at the ground.

Smoker adjusted his sitting position before he spoke again. "And that's about it." 

Brook leaned over, staring at him with his empty eye sockets. "You still didn't say how you got your name."

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I smoke too much?" Smoker replied, glancing at the skeleton, who stared even more intendly now.

Smoker heaved a sigh. "Fine. I set myself on fire and accidentally smoked out the entire marine ship. Thrice."

Nami looked over in shock. "How did you do that?"

"It wasn't my fault they kept giving me kitchen duty after the first time it happened. Though after I ate the smoke-smoke fruit my name just became the norm. Made it easier even for the newbies to remember." 

After that, Brook thanked him for sharing before he went off to play violin again. Nami stayed, however, still deep in thought. It didn't go unnoticed by Smoker, having seen a similar face on Tashigi whenever she was bothered by something but didn't think to talk to anyone about it.

Smoker cleared his voice. "You want to talk about it?"

Nami's head snapped up and over to him, eyes wide in surprise. Then she turned away, gazing across the deck with a far away look. "The marine you mentioned, Beli. What was her actual name?"

Smoker raised an eyebrow at that. "Her name was Bellmere. Why?"

Nami heaved a sigh, her shoulders sagging. Her voice was almost a whisper. "She raised me."

That caught Smoker by surprise. He'd known Bellmere went off after a mission in the East Blue, but he never managed to get back in contact with her. "Never thought she'd be able to raise a kid," he mused.

"She saved me and my sister, gave us a home and food. We didn't have much but I loved her tangerine grove," Nami smiled, her eyes falling on the trees softly swaying with the breeze.

Smoker's eyes followed her gaze. The use of past tense and Namis expression made him suspect what might have happened to his old friend. "She was a good marine, one of the few. And a good friend too."

"She was incredible," Nami said, looking up at the sky with a smile. Her hand wandered over to her shoulder, where her tattoo was. 

Smoker exhaled, a plume of smoke drifting up, twisting in the wind. "I'm sure she would be proud of you. You are a lot like her."

Nami chuckled and for the first time, Smoker saw Nami direct a smile at him. A genuine one. "I'd love to know more about her. Maybe you could tell me some other time?" 

Smoker gave her a small smile of his own. "Sure, why not."

And with that, the navigator skipped off towards the helm, checking the wind in the process.

Snailventure

Samantha Calypso hated Trafalgar D. Water Law with every fiber of her slimy being.

It wasn't a casual dislike. It wasn't even the professional disdain she reserved for lazy marine dispatchers who couldn't tell starboard from port. No. This was personal.

One moment, she had been exactly where she belonged: tucked into the inner pocket of Smoker's jacket, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat and the occasional gruff curse as he tried to navigate the chaos of Punk Hazard. The next – everything changed. The world lurched sideways. Heat and smoke ripped past her. She tumbled through the air, landing hard on the hard ground as Law's cursed "Room" swallowed her.

When the dust cleared, Samantha Calypso was alone. No jacket. No heartbeat. No Smoker. Just gray corridors, scattered transponder snails, and the distant, smug echo of a pirate surgeon who had no respect for proper navigational equipment. If she had fists, she would have shaken them at the sky.

Instead, she planted herself firmly on the ground, lifted her eyestalks with as much dignity as she could muster, and vowed revenge. One day – somehow – she would find a way to make Trafalgar D. Water Law pay. She would summon the full might of her 42 grams. She would crawl onto his ship, slime all over his charts, and lead him six degrees south of absolutely nowhere.

But not today. Today, she had a more important mission. She had to find Smoker.

She turned away from the dazed, confused transponder snails nearby – amateurs, the lot of them – and set off at a determined crawl into the depths of the laboratory. At first, anger kept her moving. It bubbled under her shell like a fresh hot spring, fueling every sluggish inch of progress. But anger alone didn't solve problems. And as the minutes stretched on, as she crept past cold walls and shiny metal contraptions, a heavier thought settled in her mind.

Samantha Calypso had never been lost. She could navigate by the sun, the stars, the magnetic pull of rare migratory birds. She knew how to read clouds and currents and even the cryptic movements of the bizarre directional wildlife of the sky islands. She remembered every heading, every coordinate, every map she'd ever been shown.

But none of it helped now. Because she didn't know where Smoker was. And worse – deep down, she knew – he probably didn't know where he was either. He might be wandering somewhere right now, taking wrong turns, getting himself even more lost without her. Her poor, stubborn human. So brave. So determined. So utterly directionless.

Samantha Calypso set her jaw – or the snail equivalent of it – and pressed onward. She would find him. Even if she had to crawl across the entire cursed Grand Line, she would find her human again.

No pirate surgeon, no island wasteland, no distance too great would stop her.

~*~

The laboratory halls were cold. Colder than she liked. Samantha Calypso was used to the warmth of Smoker's jacket, snug and secure, or the steady platform of his palm as she navigated storms and sea for him. Out here, the air bit into her shell like ice water. Each inch forward felt like dragging herself through a frozen swamp. But she endured. She was a professional. She had a mission.

She knew the stakes: find Smoker. Or find Tashigi and G-5. Find a map or device with coordinates. And if, by the infinite mercy of the universe, she found Trafalgar D. Water Law first, she would rain holy wrath upon him before continuing on. That was the plan. 

So, she crawled. At her maximum velocity – three inches per minute, slime trail glistening in the sterile laboratory light – she pressed forward. The cold gnawed at her resolve. Her shell felt heavy. Her eyestalks drooped. But Samantha Calypso was no ordinary GPSnail. She was a navigation specialist, veteran of the Grand Line, carrier of the sacred coordinates of justice. For over a decade, she had led Smoker to every destination, every battlefield, every critical point without fail. The success of the marines rested on her shell. She could not fail. She would not fail.

Her mind remained sharp, calculating Smoker's last known position, Tashigi's probable route, factoring in the time elapsed, the possible drift of enemy forces. She imagined him out there – stubborn, directionless, probably three wrong turns deep by now. Without her.

She clenched metaphorical fists. She had to be fast. She had to be swift. She had to be– 

Movement. Up ahead, in the gloom of the corridor, a shadow skittered across her path. Samantha Calypso froze.

The creature emerged into the light. It was a nightmare stitched from failed science: a turtle-mouse hybrid, patchy fur stretched over a heavy, misshapen shell, whiskers twitching, beady eyes gleaming with the glint of low cunning. They locked eyes. The lab fell silent around them.

In that moment, Samantha Calypso knew: This was her first true opponent. Retreat was not an option. Outrunning it? Dubious at best. The mouse half was fast. The turtle half was armored. A creature of chaos and compromise. 

Samantha analyzed swiftly. Mouse head. Mouse legs. Turtle shell. Top-heavy design. Vulnerable balance. A plan formed. A desperate, daring, genius plan.

She braced herself. Summoned the full strength of her tiny frame. And charged. Inch by grueling inch, she built momentum. The turtle-mouse tensed, confused by the audacity of its tiny foe.

Ten inches. Five inches. Three inches. At the last possible ten seconds, Samantha pivoted with all her might. She brushed against the edge of the creature's shell, a whisper of contact – and physics took over. The turtle-mouse wobbled. Tilted. Flipped. It landed on its back with a pathetic squeak, four twitching legs waving helplessly in the air.

Enemy: neutralized.

Samantha Calypso didn't stop to celebrate. Didn't even look back. Victory was her duty. Determined, proud, leaving her defeated enemy spinning gently behind her, Samantha pressed onward into the frozen halls of Punk Hazard.

~*~

The laboratory halls stretched around her in endless gray corridors. Samantha Calypso crawled on. She had faced gas leaks, freezing floors, and the thrill of out-matching an enemy equal in power – and she would endure. Until now. Until the creature.

It slumped awkwardly against a half-collapsed cabinet, a melted mess of patchy fur, leaking gas in sad little puffs. A bunny, perhaps once. Now a trembling mutant with wild eyes and a body halfway liquefied by whatever horrors this island had cooked up.

Samantha Calypso froze, weighing her options. Engage? Flee? Commit to righteous battle?

But then, instead of charging at her, the bunny headbutted the cabinet frantically, then looked back at her. Headbutted the cabinet again. Then back at her. Even a snail could understand the message.

Inside the cabinet. The vial. The cure.

The bunny thumped the floor with one soggy foot and spun in a wild circle, then bolted halfway down the hallway – before turning back and nodding at her in a way that could only be described as frenzied but sincere. Another message, clear as coordinates: Help me, and I'll lead you to something valuable.

An offer, a deal – an alliance.

Samantha twitched her eyestalks thoughtfully. The cabinet was tall. At least 50 inches. A brutal climb for any ordinary snail. But Samantha Calypso was no ordinary snail. She nodded solemnly, once. The bunny foamed in what might have been gratitude. Or rabies. Hard to tell.

Samantha set to work. The climb was harrowing. Each minute a battle. Each inch of smooth steel a brutal test of stamina. She slipped twice. Caught herself with the sheer power of will. Somewhere below, the bunny alternated between gnawing the floor and singing off-key shanties about bubbles and carrots.

When Samantha Calypso finally reached the top, she found the cabinet door slightly ajar – just wide enough for a GPSnail to squeeze through, but not for a bunny. She wedged herself into the gap, wriggling past jagged hinges and splintered metal, until she reached the vial.

It was heavier than she expected, almost as heavy as she was. Samantha Calypso gritted her metaphorical teeth. With the strength of ten snails, she pushed. The vial teetered on the edge. With one final shove – it fell. Smashed onto the bunny's head. There was a hiss of gas, a plume of white smoke – and then silence.

When it cleared, the bunny was still. It blinked up at her. Perfectly normal. Perfectly intact. Well – physically, at least. The twitching in its eyes suggested the mental damage was permanent.

Still, a deal was a deal. The bunny nodded with manic gratitude and hopped away, leaving a trail of what Samantha Calypso could only hope was harmless fur. She followed. Through winding halls, open labs, over pipes and around patches of leftover frostbite, the bunny led her. 

Finally, they arrived. A control room. Many of the devices were fried. Some frozen into grotesque ice sculptures. The comms were dead, the screens dark. But Samantha Calypso didn't need communications. She didn't need video feeds. She needed only one thing. A map.

She climbed onto the nearest control panel, surveyed the array of switches and buttons. Made her calculations. Then, with the grim determination of a seasoned veteran, she began pressing all of them. One by one. Button after button. Some triggered alarms. Some made strange hissing noises. Once, a panel burst into sparks. Samantha Calypso pressed on.

Until finally – CLICK. A massive screen flickered to life. A full map of the Punk Hazard laboratory glowed across the wall. Coordinates. Corridors. Locked doors. Escape routes. Samantha Calypso was in her element. This was it. The first major step forward. A step closer to finding Smoker.

She stared up at the glowing map, her eyestalks sharp with focus. She was in Section C. There were four other sections in the lab – twisting halls and bunkered rooms, tunnels and side passages. Most were probably filled with poisonous gas, chemical hazards, or hordes of failed science projects ready to pounce on a defenseless snail. Samantha Calypso was good. She was a veteran. A seasoned GPSnail of the Grand Line. But even she couldn't take on an entire enemy faction alone.

She needed a plan. She needed to think like Smoker. A troubling prospect – not because it was difficult – but because usually, she was required to think for him. Samantha Calypso took a deep, steadying breath.

What was Smoker? Strong. Determined. Terrible with basic navigation, yes, but when it came to brute strength and stubborn pursuit, he was unmatched. She had personally witnessed him capture dozens of notorious pirates without so much as a scratch. He was the White Hunter.

Smoker didn't hide. Smoker didn't retreat. He hunted. Which meant, here on Punk Hazard, he would be doing what he always did: chasing down criminals.

And which criminals were present? The Strawhat pirates. Famous. Slippery. Always causing paperwork. It was obvious. Smoker would see them trying to flee – toward the sea, toward an escape ship – and he would be hot on their trail, determined to capture them personally.

Which meant – the harbor. If the Strawhats were fleeing, they would go to the harbor. And where the Strawhats fled, Smoker would follow.

Samantha Calypso's entire being buzzed with renewed purpose. She traced the routes on the map carefully: Through Section C. Past the junction at Section R. Through the tunnel labeled R-66. And out to the harbor. Simple. Elegant. A path straight to her human.

Granted, there was the minor complication that Smoker might get lost on his own way there – but Samantha Calypso had faith. He would be at the harbor. She just had to get there first.

She glanced down. The bunny, now fully floofed but mentally unhinged, was hopping in frantic circles, occasionally headbutting a console and cackling to itself. She decided it was better left behind. This was a solo mission now.

With the unshakable focus of a true professional, Samantha Calypso oriented herself toward the R-section corridor and began to crawl. Three inches per minute. Fast. Steady. Fearless. Because there was only one Smoker. Lost, alone, utterly useless without her. And Samantha Calypso would not fail him.

~*~

At long last, Samantha Calypso reached the harbor. She clung to the last stretch of land, peering out over the battered dockyard. There it was: a tanker, battered but afloat, sails still catching the toxic winds. And there, standing tall on the deck, sword sheathed at her side, was Tashigi. 

Relief flooded Samantha Calypso's tiny, exhausted body. Tashigi! Faithful, sensible, properly map-using Tashigi!

Samantha Calypso didn't waste a second. She crawled along with new vigor, slime trail shining behind her, heading straight for her human's second-in-command. She would be safe now. She would find Smoker, and everything would be as it should be. But then, halfway across the railing, dread coiled in her gut.

Something was wrong. There was no cigar smoke hanging in the air. No heavy boots clanging against the deck. No familiar, comforting curses about how idiots couldn't secure proper moorings.

Smoker wasn't there.

Samantha Calypso stilled, tiny heart hammering inside her shell. Maybe– maybe she had been faster than him. Maybe he was just a few minutes behind.

She waited. She watched. The children played noisily on the deck, tossing a battered ball between them, chasing each other across the boards. Tashigi hovered nearby, mediating petty spats with patience.

No sign of Smoker. Minutes dragged by like hours. Still no sign. The pit in her chest grew heavier with each passing second.

Then, Tashigi excused herself, ducking into the ship's cabin with a purposeful stride. Samantha Calypso perked up. Communication, she realized. Maybe she had contacted Smoker. Maybe he was on his way after all. Samantha Calypso edged a little closer, as close as she dared. She waited, and waited.

Tashigi emerged a few minutes later, and her voice rang clear across the harbor: "Prepare to set sail!"

Samantha Calypso's entire body went still. Set sail. Leaving. Leaving Punk Hazard. Leaving without Smoker. The realization hit like a cannonball to the shell. All her effort. All her bravery. The harrowing battle with the turtle-mouse. The harebrained alliance with a mentally unstable gas bunny. The treacherous climb into the cabinet. Finding and extracting the map. All of it–

Failed. She had failed her mission. Failed Smoker.

Samantha Calypso considered, very seriously, flinging herself overboard into the freezing waters below. A final act of penance. It was what she deserved. Her tiny body drooped, her eyestalks low.

But then– Tashigi, shouting orders just a little too close to the railing. Samantha strained to listen.

"... Strawhats... Smoker... kidnapped... Trafalgar Law involved–"

Her world sharpened at once. Smoker. Kidnapped. By the Strawhats. And Trafalgar D. Water Law. 

Samantha Calypso's slime boiled with righteous fury. Of course that sword-wielding surgeon menace was involved. Samantha Calypso should have known.

She was not too late. No. This was a new mission. She would sail with Tashigi. She would find the Strawhats. She would exact vengeance on Trafalgar D. Water Law.

And she would rescue Smoker – no matter how far, no matter how long it took. Her course was clear. Samantha Calypso fixed herself firmly to the railing as the ship pulled away from Punk Hazard. The quest continued.

Chapter Text

Green bits and pieces

It wasn't exactly early morning, but pretty close to it when they finally saw land for the first time since leaving Punk Hazard. And Smoker could finally leave this godforsaken ship. The four days had been enough to make him seriously consider taking vacation. And he'd never taken vacation (on his own at least. He'd been forced several times, though).

He listened to Law's call with Joker and the subsequent plan the pirates had hatched before breakfast, having no intention of helping them. 

Though he'd have loved to take down a warlord, he knew it would get him in trouble with Sakazuki. Not that he really cared about that, but having to explain that he essentially helped a pirate take down another pirate while traveling with said pirate? No thanks. He could already imagine the paperwork.

What he didn't expect was for Robin to approach him and ask if he'd be willing to join the Caesar Return team. If only to check out Green Bit and make sure it was safe for his subordinates to pick him up there. A reasonable decision since Dressrosa was a warlord's territory after all.

And that's how Smoker found himself and the Caesar Return Team – consisting of Law, Usopp, Robin and Caesar – standing in front of a massive bridge blocked off by various warning signs while wearing disguises – the effectiveness of some was questionable though. A fake mustache and a coat that screamed Heart pirate, not to mention the still visible and very distinct sword? Seriously, Law?

"M-m-maybe we could find another way?" the sniper stammered, knees shaking.

Robin examined the old signs, removing some moss to better reveal the skulls and warnings. "It is quite inviting, don't you think?"

Usopp gaped at her, shaking his head vehemently. Smoker rolled his eyes as he took another drag from his cigars. 

Law stepped closer to the bridge. "We only have this way, so you better prepare for a fight."

This only made Usopp shake even more, stammering something about a can't-cross-fighting-fish-infested-bridge sickness.

So Smoker did the only sensible thing – he grabbed the sniper by the scruff and began dragging him onto the bridge, much to Robin's amusement and Law's waning sanity.

The bridge itself was a solid piece of construction, with massive steel fences on both sides. It didn't take long for the group to find out why the fences were there in the first place when a large shadow appeared underneath it.

"You guys take care of that while we cross the bridge!" Law called out and began running as a massive fish with a bulls face and horns jumped over the bridge.

"That's one ugly fish," Smoker huffed, watching Robin and Usopp take out two more that tried to attack from either side.

"Hey, you two could help with this too!" Usopp cried as he readied another shot. 

Smoker bit on his cigars before calling back: "And how the hell do you think we get back across this bridge if we're all spent from fighting now?"

Usopp grudgingly accepted that answer while running and shooting fish at the same time.

And then the bridge ended. Not on the other side, where one expects a bridge to end. Instead, a massive force had taken out a large portion of it – iron fence and all – and left no trace of it behind. Dense fog surrounded the other side, making it impossible to see where it led. 

"There comes another one!" Law shouted, pointing at an approaching fin in front of them.

Smoker fell into a fighting stance, smoke billowing around his fists, ready to strike as the fish suddenly stopped mid-jump. Its eyes bulged and then rolled back, the massive body falling into the water with a large splash.

And then silence. Keeping an eye out for other enemies, Smoker slowly approached the downed fish. A net was wrapped around its body and three large harpoons had struck its side. There were voices too, now, whispering among themselves. They must be the hunters, Smoker assumed, although he couldn't make out any other shapes beside the fish. 

Law called out to them, but he only made them run away, dragging the fish up the other side of the bridge and into the fog.

"What do we do now?" Usopp asked, eyes flicking from side to side as more fins began surrounding them again.

Smoker heaved a sigh and began to focus. Then he had an idea. Smoke began to flow from him, surrounding the rest of the group and lifting them off the ground. 

"WHA–" Usopp yelped in surprise, limbs flailing wildly midair. 

Using his smoke like a blanket, Smoker began carrying them across the bridge. He could barely make out the end of the bridge and, to avoid more fish, he carried them as far as possible.

The landing was, admittedly, not gentle as he dropped his passengers rather abruptly. Law gave him a side-eye, judging him silently. 

Caesar – who Smoker had ignored as much as possible – began to complain. "Why didn't you do that from the start? Useless marine." 

Smoker glared at him with as much disdain as he could, making the scientist squirm. "Because it's exhausting and I could only carry all of you because of the fog."

"What did the fog have to do with this?" Robin inquired.

"Clouds, steam, fog, it's all pretty similar to smoke. I can't quite control them as well, but I can still use them to my advantage."

Robin hummed in understanding before her gaze fell on their surroundings.

There were dozens of destroyed ships littering the beach and surrounding water. Victims of the fighting fish no doubt, ranging from small fishing vessels to large sailing ships, all nothing more than scrap now.

Law took the lead, walking at a brisk pace across the beach to wherever he intended to meet with Doflamingo. As they walked around the island, something caught Smoker's attention. There, further ahead of them, was a shipwreck with a distinct dark blue colour.

It was a marine ship, halfway stuck inside the dense jungle that covered the island. Unlike most of the ships they'd seen so far, it was still in good shape. Well – besides being stranded and stuck. But mostly intact and relatively new.

While Law – who wanted to take Caesar to the meeting point alone – instructed Robin and Usopp to investigate the jungle, Smoker broke off to take a better look at the vessel.

Rounding the ship, he found a hole near the front of it, granting access to a lower deck from the ground. It wasn't a big hole and, judging by the size, must have been the result of a fighting fish ramming into it.

Smoker turned into a white cloud and entered the room beyond. With the light filtering in he could make out boxes and weapons stacked on shelves upon shelves. One of the few storage rooms of a standard marine ship then. Smoker could work with this, making his way through the corridors and towards the cabins belonging to whoever was in charge of the vessel.

It was eerily quiet, only the occasional creaking floorboard and Smoker's footsteps echoing through the empty halls. It took a bit until he finally arrived at his destination. He'd gotten used to the small ship of the Strawhats that walking on a normal marine vessel felt like an eternity. 

The command room was surprisingly empty, a few maps littered here and there, but nothing significant. Which was odd. This ship certainly didn't belong to a routine patrol – there wasn't enough communication equipment here. It was also missing the protocol and long range den-den-mushi station.

Which meant this ship wasn't under order of a marine base. Instead, there had to be a marine on board holding full command. 

Clack, clack, clack

And this far into the New World there were only two ranks that would bring their ships into warlord territory.

Clack, clack, clack

An ambitious vice admiral – or one of the three admirals of the marine headquarters. 

Clack, clack, clack

Smoker balled his fists, smoke billowing out as he whirled around, ready to strike.

"You wouldn't attack a blind man now, would you?" Inside the doorframe stood a man, tall, with short dark hair and a distinct x-shaped scar over his eyes. 

Smoker took a breath, the smoke around his hands dissipating slowly. "Admiral Fujitora. Since when does someone of your station visit the home of a warlord?"

Fujitora chuckled, stepping into the room using his sheathed sword as a guide. "I've been sent here to check on a certain pirate alliance. I have a feeling you know who I mean."

Smoker closed his eyes for a moment, taking a drag of his cigars. "I do. But that's not all you want here, is it?"

"Observant as always. But tell me, what is Vice Admiral Smoker doing here? The G-5 is a bit far away, isn't it?" Fujitora said, looking roughly in Smoker's direction.

"It's a longer story that I'm sure Tashigi has already written a report about. But I was essentially kidnapped by the Strawhat," Smoker huffed, leaning against a table.

"Kidnapped, you say?"

Smoker heaved a long-suffering sigh. "He and Law decided to piss off Doflamingo, and me and my men were caught in the crossfire. The Strawhat decided to just take me with him, so Doflamingo wouldn't kill me." 

This made the admiral chuckle. "You and the Strawhat against a warlord. Where have I heard that before?"

Smoker groaned at the reminder – though it did make him smile. "We even got stuck in a cage together. Again."

Now Fujitora was full-on laughing. "Luck really has a crude sense of humor sometimes."

"I feel like it's not even luck anymore," Smoker chuckled. "No matter. I'm just here to contact Tashigi and my base so they can pick me up. "

The admiral tapped his sword in thought. "Do you think the Strawhat trusts you?"

Smoker raised his eyebrows. "I… I'm not sure," Smoker crossed his arms, thinking for a moment. "He saved my life several times, and while I was on his ship they didn't treat me like a prisoner or hostage."

"So you may know what they are planning on Dressrosa, then," Fujitora stated.

He did know. In fact, now that Smoker thought about it, there had barely been moments of the Strawhats deliberately excluding him from their planning. They even tried to get him to join their alliance like on Punk Hazard. 

Smoker put a hand to his chin, going over all the things he knew about the Strawhat and his crew now. They were pirates and had to be stopped in the name of justice, sure – and yet, wherever they went, they made friends and left the island better than it was before.

While Smoker was lost in his thoughts, the admiral had made his way over to one of the chairs and sat down. 

Smoker sighed, looking over to where Fujitora now sat. "I need to speak freely for a moment."

Fujitora nodded. Back when Smoker had first met the admiral, shortly after he had been appointed, he'd learned that they both shared a similar view on justice, following it in a more human way than an absolute one. It also allowed them to express their concerns directly without having to sugarcoat anything or the threat of Akainu finding out.

Smoker exhaled a plume of smoke before speaking. "Dressrosa is just another Alabasta, and I know the Strawhat will bring down Doflamingo. And I also know that when he does, the government will cover it up – and we can't let that happen. I'm a marine, I believe in justice, but not if it allows criminals like Doflamingo to do as they please. As much as I want to arrest the Strawhat pirates, I cannot – and I can't believe I'm saying this – I cannot tell you about their plans."

Smoker took another breath, his voice subdued. "Luffy has saved so many people from the neglect of the government. He almost does better work than we ever did and I can't stand it."

Fujitora, who had quietly listened to Smoker rant, hummed in understanding. "He is still a pirate, and yet his sense of justice is remarkable."

"If Akainu asks, I will tell him the same. Right now the Strawhats are the best bet for stopping Doflamingo and his illegal activities. You can arrest me even, but the marines – the justice we stand for – have failed here," Smoker said, his voice steady and filled with conviction. 

He believed in justice and the marines, but not at the cost of civilian lives. They were the ones that should make sure ordinary people could live peacefully – and yet they allowed a pirate and criminal to legitimately rule a kingdom. Twice, actually. They allowed those criminals to take root and build an illegal trade system right under the law and nobody had done anything.

Fujitora smiled softly. "No, no, I have no intention to do that. In fact, I have a proposition for you."

Smoker tilted his head slightly. "And what would that be?" 

"You have an opportunity here that nobody will ever get again. Does the name X Drake mean anything to you?" 

"Yes, I know him. He's undercover as a pirate, isn't he?" Smoker asked, his voice low. He hadn't spoken to Drake in years, but as far as he knew he had joined some sort of special division within the marines, granting him an impressive amount of freedom, and became a member of the supernova as well.

"Precisely. I want you to do the same. Stay with the Strawhats, gather intel and, most importantly, watch them work wonders first hand," Fujitora explained.

"You want me to become a pirate? Are you serious?" Smoker called, facing his superior fully.

Fujitora answered calmly. "I'm not ordering you, we both know you do what you want. I only want you to consider it. If you choose to stay, I will take care of the paperwork and assign you to SWORD, the division led by X Drake."

"And if I don't stay?" Smoker inquired.

"You can go back to G-5 and no one will know of this conversation. Akainu doesn't need to be bothered by hypotheticals, don't you think?" The admiral stood, making his way to the door. "Think about it, though – no matter what you choose – I would recommend staying out of Dressrosa. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

With that, the admiral left the room, leaving Smoker alone with his thoughts.

There was a decision to be made now. Should he stay with the Strawhats or go back to his base? On one hand, he could finally take action by uncovering the failures of the government and force the marines to do their actual job by actively helping innocent people.

On the other hand, he had a base to command and his own area of the New World to protect. And he wasn't sure if Tashigi would be capable of working on her own. Sure, she was a capable fighter and captain, but she was also still falling over her own feet.

Smoker bit down on his cigars in frustration, letting the taste melt in his mouth before slamming his fist on the table. 

He knew what he had to do.

Grabbing a nearby piece of paper and a pen, he hastily wrote a note. Once he was done he turned into a cloud of smoke and whizzed through the ship's corridors and out onto its deck. From there he had a vantage point of the surrounding area.

It wasn't hard to find out where Law was meeting with Doflamingo due to the rather big meteor coming down above them. Must have been the business Fujitora wanted to attend, because he was the only one who enjoyed extraterrestrial rock attacks.

Looking over to the other side of the beach, towards the bridge, he could faintly see the silhouette of a small ship. What kind of idiot would sail right into fighting fish territory? 

Wait – that was the Sunny! 

SHIT.

Smoker let off a string of curses as he made his way over to the ship. Beneath him were Law and Caesar, also headed for the Sunny, but with a very angry pink feather ball on their heels.

Law noticed him as well and within a split second Smoker was next to him. Damn shambles or whatever Law called it.

"Take Caesar and this vivre card and go to Zou! I'll distract Doflamingo," Law panted, still running, but obviously injured.

Smoker was about to argue, but Law threw a mad scientist in his face and immediately stopped running to confront the other warlord, shouting one last thing over his shoulder. "AND KEEP AWAY FROM THE CLOUDS!"

Grabbing Caesar by the scruff and letting out even more curses, Smoker flew over to the Sunny and was greeted by Sanji midair. The cook didn't try to stop him, however, which left Smoker slightly confused. He was still a marine and they knew that, right?

After landing on the deck, Smoker looked for the navigator, who stood near the helm and was trying to maneuver the ship while the rest of the protection team fought off the fighting fish.

"We need to leave, NOW! Can you get the ship somewhere without clouds?" Smoker called over to Nami.

"I'm already on it!" Nami called back, visibly annoyed and trying her best.

A large shadow suddenly loomed over them as a flying marine ship approached and began firing at them.

There was also another meteor coming for them and – in Smoker's honest opinion – the admiral should cut back with those. Did he even know how much damage those cause? And where the hell did he keep getting them so fast?

There was a loud cheer coming from the steering wheel, followed by a "EVERYONE HOLD ON TIGHT!" by Nami.

And then the Sunny went flying. Smoker held onto the railing as best he could, the air blowing past him with incredible speed. Then it slowed and for a moment Smoker could admire the view. The wide ocean below, a few scattered clouds at the horizon, a flying seagull with a heart attack right next to the ship.

However, ships were designed for swimming, not flying. And one thing every little kid had to learn was that if things go up, they will inevitably come down too, usually hitting the unsuspecting kid in the head because yes, throwing bricks in the air above you was a stupid idea.

With a massive splash the ship landed back in the ocean, collecting seawater at the front and, as the bow came up, drenching the crew with it. Smoker sat at the railing, his cigars wet and hair tousled and pointing in every direction at once.

He never wanted to do that again. EVER. 

The others, except Caesar, were already moving about, checking damage and position of the Sunny.

Smoker stood up and pushed a hand through his hair, taming it somewhat before he noticed a small note that had fallen out of his pocket.

He forgot to give Fujitora the note he'd written for Tashigi.

Damnit.

Heaving a sigh he looked out to the sea, noting a large ship coming their direction, though still a good while away. 

A high voice startled him out of his thoughts. "Wait, why are you still here?" 

Turning around, Smoker couldn't see who talked to him until he looked down where the small doctor stood, looking rather befuddled.

"... Good question," Smoker answered. "However, I'm not as concerned about me being here as I am about… whatever ship that is." 

He pointed towards the horizon, where said ship was steadily growing bigger.

Before Chopper could tell the others, they were interrupted by Sanji, who was on a call with the other two groups on Dressrosa. Since when there were two groups in the plan was beyond Smoker and, honestly, the plan had been doomed from the start anyway.

Smoker stayed a bit further away from the rest, halfway listening to the others crying and talking whilst also keeping an eye on the slowly approaching vessel. Apparently the plan had gone even more to shit, and Fujitora was fighting alongside the pink feathered pirate. How the hell did that warlord even have that much power?

It didn't matter though, because in the moment that Smoker had spent thinking, the approaching vessel had somehow snuck up to them, looming over the Sunny. It was massive, with a clown's face on the front and several food looking details.

The worst part, however, was the large writing on the sail.

Big Mom.

The others hadn't noticed it yet, so Smoker called out to them in alarm. "HEY! Maybe instead of listening to your friends having shit days you could focus on the problem right behind us!?"

The reaction was instant, both Brook and Chopper dissolving into screams of fear while Nami clung to the creepy kid they had picked up back in Punk Hazard. Even Sanji looked like he'd seen a ghost, however, they were all drowned out by Caesar's pathetic cries.

Smoker could only shake his head in disbelief as the scientist admitted to embezzling funds from the yonko. Which was a really great fucking idea, dipshit. 

"THEY'RE OPENING FIRE!" someone screamed, though Smoker couldn't make out who among the sudden onslaught of cannonballs and explosions. 

Nami took the lead, ordering Brook to take the wheel while Sanji and Smoker defended the ship. Then she spoke to Luffy, who agreed to them leaving Dressrosa in order to save the creepy kid and Caesar, and lead the yonko's ship away.

Smoker had just caught two cannonballs and redirected them when Sanji asked his captain the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.

"Permission to attack Big Mom's ship, captain?"

Why the fuck would you–

"Hell yeah," came Luffy's answer.

Smoker groaned. He should have expected it. He really should.

Marching On

— somewhere between Dressrosa and Zou —

The Sunny rocked gently under the night sky, sails tied and lanterns dimmed. Most of the group had turned in early, lulled by the calm after too many days of chaos. Only a handful of the Strawhat crew had remained on board – Sanji, Nami, Chopper and Brook – along with Caesar, Momonosuke and Smoker. The rest had stayed behind in Dressrosa.

Smoker sat alone on the railing near the stern, one arm braced on his knee, a lit cigar glowing faintly in the dark. The smoke curled into the wind and vanished, like every thought he didn't want to hold onto for too long. Somewhere behind him, Brook played his violin – low, meandering melodies that drifted through the breeze. Sometimes he sang softly to himself, the words half-lost to the sound of the sea. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, Smoker had nearly dozed off listening to it.

The music stopped, and after a pause, the soft sound of light footsteps approached.

"Smoker-kun," Brook said, his voice airy and warm. "I hope I didn't disturb you. Would you, as our guest, like to hear something specific? A request, perhaps?"

Smoker opened one eye and glanced sideways. "I'm not exactly the music type."

"Ah, but everyone has a song," Brook said, sitting nearby without asking for permission. "One ingrained to the bones, if you'll forgive the expression. Something from when you are with your people."

"My people," Smoker repeated, a little dryly.

"Fellow marines, I suppose," Brook said. "Comrades. Friends. Was there ever a song you all used to sing?"

Smoker didn't answer right away. He looked down at the water instead, and the memory crept up quietly – like a scar that sometimes ached when the weather shifted. A voice from years ago, half-shouted over the crash of waves and cannon fire. He could still smell the blood and gunpowder in the air.

"There was one," he said finally. "From when we were cadets. We used to sing it during training. Marches. Long night watches. That kind of thing."

Brook perked up. "What was it called?"

"Can't remember. Been too long. Got banned, anyway."

"Banned?" Brook asked, intrigued.

"Command said it was bad for morale," Smoker muttered, taking another drag from his cigar. "Too grim."

Brook chuckled softly. "Ah, then it must be an honest one. Do you remember any of the words?"

Smoker hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Bits. It was about fighting at sea. And dying there, too."

Brook's bony fingers danced briefly along the strings of his violin, playing a handful of notes – half-melodies, fragments. Smoker sat up slightly, listening. The notes tugged at some far-off part of his mind.

Then Brook played a phrase – four bars, no more – and Smoker blinked.

"That one," he said. "That's it."

Brook's face lit up with delight. "Ah! Wonderful! It's an old one, but I know it well."

He set the violin properly beneath his chin, positioned his bow, and with a graceful draw over the strings, began to play.

Then he sang – voice quiet but clear, carrying the tune out into the night.

Into your bright blue eyes, I placed my trust

My girl, my home, my guiding light

When we went marching, we set sail

Our flag of loyalty high on the mast

Smoker leaned forward, elbows on knees, letting the melody settle in. The words came back clearer now. The weight behind them, too.

March, soldier march

Our ships sail on, cannons at the ready

The sea our judge with waves so steady

We march, we march, march on

He remembered muddy boots on gravel roads, the cold sting of rain down the back of his uniform, Bellmere shouting the lyrics like they were orders, her hair plastered to her face. Rosinante had never quite sung in tune – off-key, too loud, too cheerful. But no one cared. They sang to drown out the wind. Drake used to keep perfect time, no matter how tired he was. And Hina had refused to march without harmonizing.

The music carried over the deck like mist. Sanji had come up without saying anything, lighting a cigarette and sitting back against the mast, just listening.

Your eyes so bright, I dreamt of them

And only them keep me alive

With hope and fate and nothing else

Our flag means death, again, again

Nami joined partway through that verse, shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her usual sharpness softened into something quieter. Her gaze drifted to Smoker, then to Brook, then back out to sea. Smoker didn't look at her. His thoughts were elsewhere.

They'd been young. Dumb. Thought latrine duty was hell. Thought that aching legs and wet socks were the worst the world could throw at them.

March, soldier, march

Our ships fight on, the cannon fire steady

The sea our judge with waves so mighty

We fight and fall, and we march on

Two of them were dead now. Rosinante – gone before his time. Bellmere – lost in a pointless battle in a no-name kingdom.

Another two in alliances with the very criminals they swore to bring justice to.

Into the deep dark sea my comrades fell

When devil swung his mighty scythe

With storms that rage and winds that cut

No escape there is from hell

And only one that still wore the cloak. Still standing where they used to.

March, soldier march

Our ships sail on, cannons at the ready

The sea our judge with waves so steady

We march, we march, march on

It was quiet when the song ended. Just the wind brushing past the sails, the faint creak of the Sunny, and the soft hiss of lit tobacco. Sanji and Smoker sat in silence, both smoking, both not looking at each other.

Nami exhaled slowly. "That's… a dark one," she murmured, before nodding once and heading back inside.

Brook plucked a few soft, idle notes, then looked at Smoker with an odd, knowing gentleness. "You chose an interesting one, Smoker-kun. Thank you for sharing it."

Smoker gave a quiet grunt. He should probably be the one thanking Brook.

Brook returned to the bow, violin in hand, his silhouette gently swaying as he slipped into a softer, less haunting tune.

Sanji tapped his cigarette once. "Didn't think I'd hear something like that from a marine," he muttered. "Guess even your justice leaves scars." He stubbed out his cigarette and headed back inside without another word.

Smoker didn't reply. Just kept smoking, eyes on the stars, remembering how many fewer voices there were now to sing that song.

The legacy of naming fish

It wasn't a major storm – not by Grand Line standards. But with only half the crew aboard, it still felt like a war effort. The wind had howled, the sails had screamed, and for three solid hours Smoker had done everything Nami shouted at him to do with zero argument. Everyone had. Because Nami knew the sea like a sniper knew her shot – and the rest of them knew better than to question her.

Now the storm had passed, the sky cracked open to dull, late-afternoon sun. The deck of the Sunny was littered with tired crewmembers. Smoker lay flat on the still-damp planks, jacket long since abandoned. Chopper was a fluffy ball of damp fur nearby. Brook was still wringing water from his coat. No one spoke for a while.

Then Sanji appeared from the galley like a kitchen saint, balancing sandwiches and steaming thermoses of tea on a tray. He sat them down in the middle of the group without flair.

"You're welcome," he muttered, sitting heavily and trying to light a cigarette. It sizzled in the moisture and fizzled out instantly. "Dammit," he hissed, chucking it overboard.

They passed around the tea. Someone sighed. Chopper curled up against the warm side of the thermos like it was a pillow.

"Okay, everyone, damage report," Nami sighed.

No one answered – which was a good sign. No damage meant nothing to repair without their shipwright.

"Apparently the fish tank wasn't closed right," Sanji said then. "Didn't do too much damage," he added. "Some rainwater got in, but the filters should handle it."

He tried another cigarette. It died again. He didn't even swear this time – just exhaled and gave up.

Chopper, from his spot near the thermos, blinked up. "Did any of the fish get out?"

Sanji shrugged, twirling his lighter. "Dunno. Don't think so."

Brook perked up. "How sure are we?"

Sanji looked like he had aged ten years. "I don't know if any fish escaped," he said, very slowly, "and it doesn't matter because there's still enough to eat in the tank."

Smoker took a bite of his sandwich. It was delicious. 

Chopper sat bolt upright with a sharp little gasp. "But– what if a fish did escape?!"

Brook nodded gravely, adjusting his afro. "We could be down a crew member!"

Smoker finished chewing. "It's a fish."

But Chopper was already up and tugging his arm. "Smoker! We have to check! Please!" The reindeer looked up at him with those giant, glassy eyes, so full of hope and trauma it could probably end wars.

Smoker sighed. "Fine."

And like that, the group migrated – half-damp, tea-clutching, sandwich-chewing – to the aquarium bar. Chopper and Brook immediately pressed their faces to the glass.

"Alright," Brook said, narrowing his nonexistent eyes. "We begin the count. One… two… there's Chief Justice Baskerville, good. There's Kalgara. Oh! And Sonata in E-Minor, my beloved!"

Chopper nodded. "My Dignity is there too!"

Smoker scanned the tank. Somewhere near the back, he spotted a vaguely lumpy fish he thought might be Smoked Chicken. It looked… tired and annoyed. He was almost proud.

Brook gasped. "Wait. I don't see… where is Sword the Fourth?!"

"Oh no," Chopper whispered. "Sword…?"

"Sword!" Brook cried, hands to his skull. "The legacy fish!"

Nami stepped up next to them, drying her hair with a towel. "Maybe it got lost."

Smoker rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What the hell does Sword the Fourth even look like?"

"Oh! We have reference art," Brook said, producing a binder from one of the cabinets. "Luffy and Usopp made them."

Inside were drawings. Dozens of them. Some looked like a preschooler's finger painting. Others were masterpieces – ink, watercolor, even charcoal in one case. 

The better ones showed a consistent creature. And it was the ugliest fish Smoker had ever seen. Its eyes were enormous, different sizes, and popping out of the sockets. One fin was crooked. The other was missing entirely. Its mouth hung open like it had forgotten how to close it. Maybe it had. Its spine curved like a question mark.

It looked like it had died once but refused to stop living .

Brook clutched the binder like a holy text. "He's been the longest survivor! His will to live is legendary!"

Smoker squinted at the drawings again. Honestly, there was a simpler explanation. He looked toward Sanji. He probably just refused to cook a fish that looked like it was about to die any second now. And was probably barely edible anyway. Not with all the perfectly meaty fish that also lived inside the tank.

Still. Smoker helped Chopper and Brook check every inch of the tank anyway.

They counted all the fish. Twice. Once with Brook narrating and taking notes. Once with Chopper sobbing gently every time they confirmed another wasn't Sword the Fourth.

By the end, there was only one conclusion to draw. He was gone. The ugliest, most cursed fish to ever survive the Strawhat tank was no longer among them. Brook and Chopper slumped against the glass, mourning.

But then– Chopper sniffled. "Wait."

Brook turned, dramatic as ever. "You don't think–"

Chopper gasped. "Sword didn't die."

"He escaped."

A beat.

"He's alive!"

The two of them burst into a sudden celebration that could only be described as emotionally deranged. Chopper flung his little arms in the air. Brook spun on one leg, yelling something about destiny.

"He survived the tank!" Brook declared. "He survived Sanji!"

Sanji dragged a hand down his face. "Oi."

"No fish has ever done that before!" Chopper cried.

"I'll compose songs about him," Brook added.

The idiots turned to Nami.

"Nami!" Chopper beamed. "We need to log this! Luffy and Usopp and the others need to know."

Nami stared at them. Then at the tank. Then at Smoker.

He shrugged. "Better write it down. Or they'll ask every five minutes."

She sighed in defeat. "Fine."

She made a brief, official-sounding note in the "logbook" – which was just a bunch of loose pages in the back of the binder: Sword the Fourth, presumed escaped. Current status: AWOL. Possibly haunting Sanji's nightmares.

Brook and Chopper were thrilled. And then they ran off, shouting about fishing rods and destiny and "the rise of Sword the Emperor."

Sanji lit another cigarette. Nami closed the binder. Smoker stared at the tank one more time. The three of them stood there, and no one spoke.

Eventually, they all turned and walked away in three different directions.

Chapter Text

— somewhere in the New World —

They jokingly called it "Bingo Night" whenever they managed to stumble into the same seedy bar somewhere in the New World. No one ever played bingo. Certainly not the group taking up the table near the back, surrounded by empty bottles, half-eaten appetizers, and the distinct vibe of dangerous men who had forgotten how to act like adults the moment the second round hit.

Shanks was already half draped over Mihawk, red-faced and grinning like an idiot.

"You're so pointy," he declared, poking at Mihawk's shoulder.

"And you're so loud," Mihawk replied without looking at him, sipping wine like it was the blood of his enemies. He didn't look drunk. But considering he had just described his black blade Yoru as "emotionally manipulative," the illusion of sobriety was rapidly fading.

Marco was leaning back in his chair, sharing a slow-burning joint with Rayleigh and Mihawk, the picture of relaxed competence. He hadn't even removed his sunglasses. Probably couldn't find them if he tried.

Rayleigh, for his part, was slurring just slightly, but still managed to look like the only adult in the room. Which was a lie, but a well-crafted one.

Crocodile exhaled smoke and annoyance in equal parts, one hand lazily twirling a drink, the hook in place of his other hand occasionally tapping his cigar holder like it owed him money. He was chill, technically. But only in the way a storm cloud was "just a bit overcast."

They were, somehow, having a good time.

Until Shanks sat up suddenly and slapped the table. "Let's play Strip Truth or Dare!"

"No," Mihawk said flatly.

"Absolutely not," Crocodile grunted.

"... I vote yes," Marco said, because of course he did.

Rayleigh raised both hands. "After last time? No chance. My dignity still hasn't recovered."

"You took your pants off before anyone even asked you anything," Mihawk said.

"Exactly," Rayleigh said gravely.

Shanks looked around at his uncooperative companions, pouting dramatically. "You guys suck."

"Let's play Never Have I Ever instead," Marco offered quickly. "No stripping. Just drinks."

This, apparently, was acceptable. A round of refills went around the table. Game on.

Shanks went first, throwing his arm lazily into the air like a kid in class. "Never have I ever accidentally destroyed a government building."

Everyone except Shanks drank.

Marco muttered, "That building teleported there, I swear."

Crocodile just rolled his eyes. 

Mihawk sipped with the kind of poise only possible from a man who once reduced a marine outpost to splinters because someone insulted his coat. He went next, eyes gleaming with quiet spite. 

"Never have I ever had to get rescued from drowning."

Crocodile and Marco both drank, visibly annoyed. Devil fruit users. Predictable. Then, to everyone's surprise, Shanks drank too. All eyes turned to him.

He shrugged. "What? I grew up on a ship, yeah, but no one taught me how to swim." He glared at Rayleigh.

Rayleigh raised his glass with zero remorse. "Not my job."

"It was your job!" Shanks whined immediately. "You were basically my dad!"

Rayleigh shrugged again. "Never have I ever slept with a marine."

Marco and Mihawk both drank. Mihawk gave no explanation, face unreadable.

Shanks gasped and clutched at his heart. "You slept with the enemy, Mihawk? I'm betrayed." He was mostly draped across Mihawk's arm by now. Mihawk didn't move.

Marco tried to share his story about how it had happened, expression dreamy. "There were seagulls... and, uh... a beach? The South Blue…? Maybe?" He trailed off, then gave up entirely.

Everyone else just nodded in acceptance.

Mihawk, bored or just done with the current energy, reached out and took the joint from Marco without asking. Marco didn't notice. He was deep in thought, brow furrowed like he was trying to do math with colors.

"Never have I ever... had a kid," he finally said.

Everyone except Marco and Mihawk drank.

Shanks perked up instantly. "My daughter Uta! She's a singer, did I tell you? Smartest girl in the world. So talented. Gorgeous voice. Practically perfect."

"Finding you in a chest as an infant turned the entire crew from boys into men," Rayleigh added, drinking calmly.

Marco was half-asleep against the table, mumbling something that might've been, "I'm gonna be sick."

Shanks, now in interrogation mode, turned to Mihawk. "Didn't you adopt that ghost girl? What was her name– Paluga?"

"Perona. And no," Mihawk corrected, dry.

"You're so cold," Shanks sighed, dramatically slumping against him.

"You're heavy."

"What about the green, stabby kid–" He stopped mid-sentence. Frowned. Looked straight at Crocodile. "Wait a second... why did you drink?"

All eyes turned to Crocodile. He didn't answer. Not right away. Then, after a long drag from his cigar, he muttered, "I have a kid."

Shanks blinked. "Who is it? Do we know them? Are they a pirate? Do they also scowl all the time?" He leaned in with increasing excitement.

Crocodile shrugged. "Grew up with Dragon."

"So... a revolutionary, then?" Marco slurred.

"No," Crocodile said calmly.

There was a pause.

Shanks laughed. "Well, I know one of Dragon's kids. Didn't know he had more, though. That rascal."

Mihawk leaned forward, glass in hand, and elbowed Shanks – hard enough to make him wheeze. "Dragon only has one child."

Rayleigh's eye twitched like a lightbulb had just flickered on.

Shanks stared at Crocodile. Then at his drink. Then at Mihawk. Then back at Crocodile. 

"Wait. WAIT." He stood up, nearly knocking over the table, pointing at Crocodile like he'd just outed the impostor in a game of Ship Sabotage. "YOU'RE LUFFY'S DAD?!"

Mihawk didn't even look up. "Oh, here we go."

"EXCUSE ME," Shanks roared, jabbing a finger across the table, "I knew that kid when he was, like, ten and nobody mentioned he was Cobra Cairo D. Crocodile's actual spawn!"

"It's Sir Crocodile," Crocodile growled and rolled his eyes.

"You tried to kill your own kid!"

"I didn't know he was my son!"

"HOW?!"

"He was small and loud and covered in sand!"

"You live in the desert!"

Mihawk, sipping wine like a war widow, muttered, "I don't even know why I come here." He grabbed Shanks by the shirt and yanked him back down to sit on the bench.

Marco, face-down on the table, let out a muffled, "Wait, does that mean Shanks is a granddad? "

"Don't call me that! And NO!" Shanks whined. "You're not making any sense, my guy, please heal your liver up a little bit. Your brain, too, while you're at it."

"Can't believe you abandoned your kid and didn't recognize him," Rayleigh said, sipping his beer.

Crocodile slammed his hook into the table. "I didn't know his last name!"

"He even had a bounty."

"He was a scrawny pirate from the East Blue with a bounty of a whole 500 beli – he wasn't even on my radar!"

Marco groaned. "Okay but like. Why didn't you ask Dragon for updates?"

Crocodile lit a new cigar from the ashes of his old one and growled, "We're not speaking."

Rayleigh leaned back. "Obviously."

Mihawk rolled his eyes. "And when, if I may ask, did you figure it out?"

"... Impel Down."

"IMPEL DOWN?" Shanks and Marco yelled at the same time.

"Yeah." Crocodile inhaled a lungful of smoke.

Shanks slammed his cup down in drunken realization. "You're all missing the real crime here. Dragon didn't raise Luffy either! He dumped him on Garp, who left him with mountain bandits! Bandits, Crocodile!"

Crocodile stared. "You're telling me my son was raised… by a forest hobo gang?"

"I'm telling you," Shanks said dramatically, "that nobody raised him!"

Rayleigh hiccuped. "Garp threw him in a river once. Said it was for building character."

There was a long silence.

"You all suck," Crocodile muttered. "Every single one of you. And Garp. And Dragon."

"You left him first," Mihawk added unhelpfully.

Crocodile pointed at him with his cigar. "You're not even a parent."

Mihawk sipped his wine. "Exactly. And look how calm I am."

"Emotionally constipated," Shanks muttered.

"At least I didn't let a kid eat a devil fruit from my treasure."

Shanks gasped, clutching his chest like Mihawk had physically wounded him. "You take that back about the gum-gum fruit. That fruit was fate."

"It was unsecured," Mihawk replied flatly. "It gave a seven-year-old brain damage."

"It was a teachable moment!"

"For who? The child who immediately swallowed it or the yonko who left it unattended?"

Shanks leaned into Mihawk's space, all flushed cheeks and drunken fondness, slinging his arm around Mihawk's shoulders. "You're just jealous I bonded with him first. You're mad because I have connections, Mihawk. I have heart. I have – emotional range," he slurred. "You love me."

"I tolerate you at sea level," Mihawk muttered, brushing Shanks' arm off his shoulders like it was a particularly clingy barnacle.

Shanks grinned, eyes gleaming with rum-soaked triumph. "Tolerate me in bed too, though."

Mihawk set his glass down. "I'm going to kill you."

"No you're not."

"I've considered it."

"I'll cry."

"I know."

Shanks leaned back with a smug little wiggle, absolutely delighted with himself. "You're so mean when you're flustered."

"I'm never flustered."

"You're flustered right now."

The others sat in stunned silence. Rayleigh was halfway between sipping his drink and trying not to laugh. Marco had propped his chin on the table and was watching like it was a live play. Crocodile looked like he was seriously reconsidering ever speaking to another human again.

"They're doing it again," Marco whispered.

"Can we kill them?" Crocodile asked no one in particular.

"No," Mihawk answered instantly, without looking.

Shanks turned and grinned at them all, draping himself over Mihawk again. His eyes gleamed with the kind of chaotic energy that only came from five rounds of rum and zero internal brakes.

"Y'know," he said, straightening slightly and pointing a little too directly at Crocodile, "about all that Luffy stuff. Dragon. Garp. You being a terrible father."

"I will stab you," Crocodile muttered.

Shanks' grin widened. "I have an idea."

~*~

Somewhere in the shadows of a revolutionary hideout, five old men were sneaking. Sort of.

By most definitions, "sneaking" didn't include Shanks loudly humming his own theme music, Crocodile accidentally lighting a curtain on fire with his cigar, or Marco walking into a door frame because he had not, in fact, healed his liver up.

And yet, by some divine miracle, no one had spotted them yet.

They were giddy. They were giggly. They were moving like schoolgirls who'd just snuck away during a field trip.

"Left," Mihawk hissed as they approached a fork in the hallway.

"No, my left," Crocodile said, turning right.

Rayleigh was already halfway through lockpicking the nearest door. "Boys," he whispered dramatically, "we have reached the treasure trove."

It was a massive meeting room. Walls covered in maps. Tables stacked with blueprints and coded documents. Strategic plans scrawled in red ink. A globe in the corner.

And now, extremely defiled.

Within five minutes, they had:

• Crossed out East Blue in bold marker on the map and scribbled a line towards Alabasta with the note: Where you deliver your child when you abandon it.
• Rewritten half the labels on the routes with phrases like "see you in court HERE" and "parental guilt highway."
• Filled all the drawers with a thin layer of sand.
• Highlighted the word "Freedom" on various forms and added underneath: "… from your responsibilities, Dragon?"
• Drawn two crude yet detailed dicks on a map of the Red Line.
• Left a sticky note on the war strategy board that simply read: Pay child support, coward.

Crocodile was halfway through carving an insult into the meeting table. Shanks climbed onto a chair and shouted, "This is for LUFFY."

And then the door opened. Sabo stood there. Blinking. He took in the five figures.

Mihawk with a marker still in hand. Marco halfway inside a drawer. Rayleigh holding a logbook like it had insulted his mother. Crocodile, deadpan, with his hook still carving into the table and no remorse. And Shanks, mid-pose, one foot on the back of a chair and dramatically backlit by the projector screen.

"… What the hell is going on here," Sabo said.

There was a pause. Then they all talked at once.

"Dragon's a terrible dad–"

"This is for Luffy–"

"We're just leaving a message."

"You abandon a kid once–"

"Is that a revolutionary coffee maker can I have that–"

Sabo held up a hand. They stopped. He looked at them again.

Slowly, very slowly, he turned to look at the wall behind them – at the dicks, the threats, the very specific insult labeled "Dragon, you emotionally unavailable storm-lurking failure."

He considered this. Then he exhaled.

"… Yeah, okay. That tracks." And he walked away.

The five old men stood in victorious silence. Then Shanks jumped off the chair. "Right! Who wants to break into the records room?!"

"No," Mihawk said flatly.

"Yes," said Rayleigh.

~*~

By the time they stumbled out of the hideout, their drunken momentum of pettiness had turned sluggish. The adrenaline wore off. The giggles turned to groans. The world started spinning sideways.

Rayleigh, ever the last-functioning adult in the room, sighed and pulled out his den den mushi. "Shakky," he said when she picked up, "we need a pickup."

"Ray," came Shakky's smooth voice, "please don't tell me you're calling for bail again."

"No, but Marco hasn't stopped vomiting for twenty minutes, and Shanks is crying about baby sea turtles."

"I'll be there. Where are you guys even?"

Rayleigh cleared his throat. "... A revolutionary base?"

Silence.

"You're what?"

"It's fine. No one died."

"Yet?"

"I'd call it a successful mission."

"You broke into the base," Shakky said flatly.

"I wouldn't say broke. More like… gently trespassed."

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "drunken war relics" before sighing again. "I'll be there in a bit."

~*~

They crashed at Shakky and Rayleigh's little houseboat on the edge of a quiet cove – the kind of place you'd never find unless it let you.

Rayleigh disappeared into the bedroom without another word. Shanks and Mihawk got quartered into the guest room, Shanks somehow managing to knock over every single decorative item in the hallway despite Mihawk hissing "stop" every two seconds. Crocodile dropped onto the sofa like he was made of sandbags and fell asleep within seconds.

Marco was supposed to sleep on a spare mattress in the same room. He made it as far as the railing, threw up with the power of a dying volcano, and passed out face-first on the deck. Shakky didn't comment. Just stepped over Marco's arm on her way to the kitchen.

~*~

The next morning, they all emerged like sluggish cryptids.

Shakky had coffee already brewing. Toast and eggs on the table. And a large, bubbling pot of her infamous anti-hangover brew, which smelled like fermented algae and regret. They drank it anyway.

Crocodile and Mihawk downed theirs without flinching. Of course they did. Rayleigh sipped his and winced. Marco took one look and opted to continue suffering. Shanks teared up from the spicy fumes. Just a little. 

"I'm fine," he said, voice breaking, trying to smile as his eyes welled up. "Thank you for the meal, Shakky."

"Mmhm," she hummed like this happened every week.

They spent the next few hours lying around on deck – Mihawk with his hat pulled down over his face, Shanks using his coat as a blanket, Rayleigh sunning himself like a lizard, Crocodile brooding silently into his second pot of coffee. Marco was mostly breathing again.

It was peaceful.

Eventually, Marco lifted his head from the deck. "Hey," he croaked. "Where are we sailing, anyway?"

Shakky, already halfway through her crossword puzzle, didn't look up. "To visit some friends."

Marco stared. "… Which friends?"

She smiled faintly. "You'll see."

Everyone looked to Rayleigh for an answer. He shrugged from his chair. "I have no idea either."

The houseboat drifted in calm silence as the sun climbed higher. The breeze had shifted, saltier and familiar, and something in the air tugged at the edges of memory.

Rayleigh was the first to straighten in his chair, eyes narrowing at the horizon. "I'll be damned."

Shanks leaned forward, blinking blearily. "Wait. That's..."

"Yeah," Marco said quietly, standing up with a soft rustle of clothes.

The island rose ahead of them – green cliffs and sun-drenched shores, and above it all, a tall hill with two unmistakable silhouettes marked against the sky.

Graves.

The laughter and haze of the night before faded. This wasn't the kind of visit anyone had expected.

They docked the boat quietly, no fanfare, no jokes. Just the creak of wood, the crunch of gravel under boots, and the quiet wind threading through the tall grass as they climbed the hill.

At the top stood two graves, side by side. Whitebeard's, tall and broad as he'd been in life, weathered but well-kept. And beside it, Ace's – smaller, humbler, but just as honored. Someone had left flowers. Blades stuck in the ground, left in honor. A few candles had been tucked into the stone. Even after more than two years, it was clear these graves were not forgotten.

Shakky opened a small satchel and pulled out a bottle of fine whiskey – older than some of the men now standing beside her. She poured two bowls: one for Whitebeard, and one for Ace, laying them carefully at the foot of the stones.

No one spoke at first.

For Marco, it was the weight of losing not just his captain and friend, but his brothers. His family. He stood the longest, head bowed, hands clenched loosely at his sides. His eyes were red when he finally stepped back.

Rayleigh laid a hand on his shoulder in quiet solidarity. He'd known Whitebeard since his youth – back when they were reckless and rising, crashing into history. They'd been allies and rivals, warriors of the same wild sea. Losing him had felt like the end of an era.

Shanks knelt, brushing some loose leaves from Ace's grave. "He was brave," he said softly, barely above the breeze.

Crocodile didn't speak. Just stared at the markers, cigar burning low. There had been a time when he had hated Whitebeard. Despised him for beating him so cleanly, for standing taller, stronger. But that hate had faded the moment he fought beside Luffy, the moment he watched that boy scream the world into silence. Somewhere along the way, the bitterness had turned into something quieter. Respect, maybe. Regret, definitely.

And Mihawk – he, too, bowed his head the slightest bit. He had known Whitebeard's strength, Ace's fire. He had seen what they'd left behind.

"He died too young," Shanks said, voice quiet. "And his brother nearly died with him."

No one replied. For a few minutes, they just stood there. Remembering. Luffy's name hung unspoken in the air – but it was there, in every breath. The brother who survived. The one who'd clawed his way back up from hell and kept going. Who'd trained. Who'd fought. Who'd just torn through Fishman Island and Dressrosa like a storm, smiling all the way.

He was back. And he was living.

Eventually, they gathered again at the bottom of the hill, the wind at their backs and the silence stretching long enough to turn heavy.

Rayleigh clapped his hands together, loud and sudden, grinning like a bastard. "Well!" he declared, turning to face the others. "Who's ready for a barbecue?"

The shift was immediate. Marco blinked like he'd just woken up. Shanks turned to Mihawk with a too-wide smile. Crocodile raised an eyebrow but didn't object. Even Mihawk, though expressionless, didn't protest.

"We got rum," Rayleigh added cheerfully. "And Shakky's got that sauce everyone likes. Even you, Crocodile, don't lie."

Crocodile rolled his eyes and muttered something about "if there's ribs."

"Please, no more alcohol," Marco groaned.

The hill stood behind them, still and warm under the midday sun. They walked back toward the boat, and not one of them looked back.

Chapter Text

Getting lost on an Elephant and other things

After escaping Big Mom's ship with combined effort and a lot of luck – they really wouldn't have gotten away if the Yonko had been present in person – the small group made their way to Zou.

If someone had told Smoker back in Loguetown that there was an island on the back of an ancient elephant – he probably would have given them extra training for talking shit. Now, after having spent a good amount of time in the New World, he was barely fazed anymore.

Thanks to Smoker's logia fruit they had no issue getting up on the elephant. What greeted them, however, was a destroyed gate and the ruins of what used to be some kind of entrance. Moss hadn't grown over the rubble yet and the surrounding trees that had been uprooted still had green leaves on them. Whatever happened here couldn't have been older than a week at best.

They decided to split up with Nami, Momonosuke and Brook staying at the gate while Smoker and the rest went off to explore the island.

Or at least Smoker would have been with the others, if they hadn't gotten lost in the woods, leaving Smoker alone. Really, they could use some GPSnails of their own. None of them could ever compare to his Samantha Calypso though.

Wandering around the woods aimlessly for a few minutes didn't yield any results, so Smoker decided to go back – when the ground below him began to shake. Evading the rumbling ground by turning into smoke, he didn't notice the sudden rainfall from above. 

Normally Smoker wouldn't bother with rain, this one, however, drained his power and forced him to turn back. He barely managed to hold onto a nearby branch to avoid falling into the sudden flood raging through the forest. It stopped almost as abruptly as it had started, leaving Smoker drenched and in a very bad mood while hanging off a tree. Saltwater rain? Really? 

After the flood had somewhat receded, Smoker dropped to the ground, hitting the rubbery surface of elephant skin made slick by sea water and promptly lost his balance. He hated it here. Trees everywhere, saltwater rain and unstable grounds. Not to mention the corpses the flood had carried over.

Wait– corpses? Smoker quickly made his way over and, sure enough, there were three people hanging in the bushes, not moving. They weren't human though, Smoker noted. One looked more like a zebra, striped fur and all, the other two resembled wolves or foxes. It was a bit hard to tell with all the leaves stuck on them. They must be minks then, members of the tribe that lived here.

A low groan caught Smoker's attention. Were they still alive? He approached one, pressing his fingers against their neck and, to his surprise, found a weak heartbeat. Quickly he pulled the three minks out of the twigs and vines, checking them for wounds of any kind. 

Besides a few scrapes however there weren't any serious outer injuries, meaning whatever put them in this state must be internal. They needed immediate medical attention.

He grabbed them and, maybe not as careful as he should be but as quickly as he dared, threw them over his shoulders. Now he only had to find Chopper again.

Deciding on a rough direction that kind of looked like the path he had come from, Smoker began to carry his three passengers through the woods. The further he went, the more rubble he saw. A good sign, hopefully. Rubble meant ruins, and ruins were usually in a central place or somewhat inhabited. If he couldn't find Chopper there he could at least get a lead.

Climbing over more rubble, the trees soon gave way to collapsed buildings and partly obstructed roads. What caught Smoker's attention, however, were the numerous bodies lying on the ground everywhere. It looked like a massacre. Even worse – most of them looked like regular civilians and not armed fighters.

Smoker grit his teeth, brows furrowing and blood boiling. If he ever found out who was responsible for this he would make sure they'd never see the light of day again.

From a bit further inside the city came a voice, calling out in a hurry. A familiar, high pitched voice of a small doctor. Smoker exhaled, his wrath dissipating somewhat, before continuing to walk into the direction he'd heard the voice from.

Weaving between broken buildings and bodies, Smoker soon found himself on some sort of plaza. And there, in the middle of a somewhat cleared out area, was the rest of the Strawhats with Chopper already diligently working on medicine. He mixed fluids and other ingredients with a determined look, fully immersed in his job.

Smoker had to raise an eyebrow however, as he noticed Caesar helping as well. Said scientist let out a high pitched squeal as he made eye contact with the marine, catching Chopper's attention in the process.

Chopper broke out in a smile when he saw Smoker before his gaze fell on the people he was carrying. "Oh good, you're here. You can put them down over there, the antidote is almost ready."

The doctor pointed a hoof over to where they had set up a makeshift infirmary before going back to his work. Smoker set the minks down with the help of another inhabitant of the island who seemed to have evaded whatever had happened here.

"Oh, there you are. I thought we'd lost you for good," a voice rang out behind Smoker, who turned around only to be met by the disgruntled face of Sanji, who was carrying another injured mink over.

"You were the one who got lost," Smoker grumbled, taking a small bit of pride in the pissed look Sanji gave him. It was far too easy to get the curly eyebrow riled up. "It doesn't matter though. But maybe you could tell me what the hell happened here?"

"I don't know much yet either, but according to Wanda they got attacked by Jack, one of Kaido's men. He used some kind of toxic gas on them and then left them here to die," Sanji explained, taking a drag of his cigarette and exhaling a small puff of smoke. "We barely managed in time, and because Caesar over there apparently made the gas he was able to neutralize it, too."

Smoker balled his hand into a fist and if looks could kill the gaseous scientist would have been dead in the blink of an eye. However, the mad gasball was helping in the relief efforts, so Smoker settled for a punch right in Caesar's face. He might have broken his nose – hard to tell with all the complaining – but it was deserved and even Chopper barely batted an eye, only handing over a small cloth to keep the blood off the table.

Smoker huffed, slightly satisfied with his pettiness. "Anything else I can help with?" he asked nobody in particular. 

Nami, who was currently tending to a small child, looked over briefly. "You can turn into smoke, right? Can you go help Brook find people who have been trapped beneath the rubble?"

Acknowledging the request with a grunt, Smoker trotted off to where Brook and a group of minks were standing around a heap of rubble.

It took all of the Strawhats the better part of the evening to take care of all the injured. Brook and Smoker took turns checking out rubble mountains, freeing a good number of citizens that had been buried in the initial attack. Nami and Chopper applied medicine and bandages to everyone while Sanji had started a massive fire with an even bigger pot on top, filled with food.

After dinner a good amount of the injured minks were doing well enough to relocate everyone to one of the two castles of their leaders. Wanda – the mink that had helped Nami and Chopper and had somewhat taken a leading role despite her injuries – had invited the group over to her home. Smoker was quite impressed with her resilience and sense of duty. She could make a formidable leader.

The rest of the minks, especially the ones that had recovered enough, Smoker could definitely do without. They were annoying and had no sense of personal space. Which was why Smoker had taken to one of the numerous balconies to smoke his cigars in peace. He'd need new ones soon, too.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who needs a smoke break, huh," Sanji stated nonchalantly, having just walked through the balcony door.

Smoker looked over to the cook. "Just had to get out for a bit. Minks are a bit too clingy for my taste."

"I can imagine. You aren't the type of person that would appreciate the true blessing of the garchu," Sanji answered, his voice not quite insulting but condescending nonetheless.

Smoker rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Sanji didn't bother to react, instead leaning on the railing, lighting a cigarette. "I keep wondering why you keep sticking with us, though. What are you planning, marine?"

"You don't have to worry about your friends. I have no intention of harming your crew right now." Smoker gave Sanji a look from the corner of his eyes. 

"For your own good I hope you do. I have my eye on you," Sanji replied. 

The silence that settled between them wasn't quite pleasant, but it was at least tolerable. It seemed Smoker had underestimated the bond the Strawhats shared. They were careless and far too kind to strangers, and yet always wary of threats. He had noticed the small looks he'd gotten while staying on the Sunny. Not quite hostile, but laced with unease.

"What are you thinking about?" the cook inquired.

"What makes you think I'd tell you?" Smoker huffed, a plume of smoke drifting out with every word.

"Nothing, just thought I'd ask," Sanji said, waving a hand nonchalantly.

And there was another of those moments that had left Smoker confused. Moments of humanity where the lines between pirate and marine blurred and only left people behind.

Smoker heaved a sigh. "I've been trying to get a read on all of you Strawhats. And all I get is confusion. Your captain is just… I can't tell if he's ever had any plan at all."

Sanji barked a laugh. "Yeah, sounds about right. Luffy does what he wants and he'll tell you his opinion to your face. I don't think he could ever lie to save his life."

Smoker chuckled. "I have no idea how he managed to survive all that he has and can still be this carefree."

"Neither can I," Sanji added, watching as the smoke from his cigarette curled up into the treetops. "He just has this ability to make people believe again."

They let the silence linger between them. It was more comfortable now than before, both men watching the little tendrils of smoke shift in the evening air. 

After a bit Sanji headed back inside, joining the rest in their little celebration. Smoker kept outside for a bit longer, thinking about what the cook had said. 

The one thing worse than Fire and Magma

— a random day on Zou —

It had been raining for the better part of the day, essentially trapping Smoker with the Strawhats in one of the houses they'd been kindly provided by the minks.

And because he refused to stop smoking, Nami had banished him to one of the windows where he'd been reading a random book he'd found. Something about lizards – he wasn't really reading it and more looking at the pictures. 

Sanji and Chopper had somehow managed to get Caesar and Wanda to join them in a game of cards, Nami was diligently studying new maps she'd gotten from who knows where and Brook was strumming a gentle melody on his guitar.

They were bored, all of them. Besides waiting for Luffy and the rest to join them and taking care of the few injured minks there wasn't really much to do.

Smoker glanced over to the card game, noting once again Caesar's cheating as the scientist let another card disappear beneath his gaseous coat. Pathetic.

Smoker rolled his eyes when an idea popped into his head. Grinning to himself he let a small smoke cloud drift off his hand, across the floor and towards where Caesar had hidden the cards. With a swift movement he pushed the gas coat aside and flung the cards up. 

The reaction was immediate, much to Smoker's amusement.

"YOU CHEATED!" Chopper sprang up, pointing a hoof at the scientist, who was desperately trying to cover his tracks, flailing around like some kind of boneless algae. 

Futile, Smoker thought with a proud grin on his face.

Sanji sighed deeply. "Not even the good old cards are safe anymore."

"As if you didn't cheat yourself," Nami called out, not even bothering to look up from her maps.

The cook just grinned in response.

Caesar was still flailing around. "Well if it hadn't been for that stupid marine I would have won the round!" he complained. Nobody took him seriously.

Smoker huffed. "Cheating is for pathetic cowards."

"Oh you wanna fight? I beat you back in Punk Hazard without even having to lift a finger!" Caesar bragged, puffing himself up even further.

A very pointed look from Smoker made him shrink back down immediately. "W–well, maybe I'll let you go this once," the scientist stammered.

Wanda had given up playing cards and had joined Nami at the table, nursing another drink. "That smoke is your special ability right? From a devil fruit?" she asked.

Smoker looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. "It is. I've noticed your people don't know much about devil fruits, do they?"

Wanda nodded. "Yes, that's right. Since we live pretty isolated from the rest of the world we don't know much about things like devil fruits. I'd like to know more though."

Chopper perked up at that. "Devil fruits are really special and really cool. There are three types. Zoan, like mine, Paramecia like Brook's and Logia like Smoker and Caesar's."

"Zoan and Paramecia are weak fruits. Logia, however, is the most powerful and perfect of all. Not even science can replicate them!" Caesar pitched in.

Wanda tilted her head in confusion. "What makes them so special?"

Caesar, happy to be able to brag about something remotely scientific, broke out in a grin. "For starters, they turn their user into a true force of nature. Even our body becomes our element." 

To demonstrate he turned into a dark pink gas, flowing about without any form or order. Wanda's eyes widened. "So that's why you weren't bothered by things flying through you."

Caesar beamed. "Unless you use haki or seastone you can't even touch an intangible logia like me, shirorororo!"

"And you also have a logia like this, Smoker?" Wanda asked, looking over to where Smoker still sat near the window.

Smoker turned a bit to address her. "Yes. I ate the smoke-smoke fruit and can turn myself into smoke."

"It's the weakest of all logias," Caesar grumbled flippantly. "Far inferior to my gas-gas fruit and all the other logias. I mean, seriously, smoke? What can smoke even do?"

With a loud bonk a black fist attached to a smoke trail hit Caesar over the head. "Shut up!"

"Hey Smoker, I have a question," Nami said, resting her head in her hand. "Does your fruit specify what kind of smoke it is?"

Smoker gave her a knowing look, grinning confidently. "It doesn't. As long as it's somewhat gaseous with solid and fluid particles in it I can use it."

Nami grinned back.

Chopper looked between them, absolutely confused. "Huh? What has that to do with it?"

Nami cleared her voice. "What do you think causes more problems during a house fire? The flames themselves or the smoke?"

Smoker snapped his book with a loud snap. "And what's the most dangerous part of a volcanic eruption?"

Chopper stared at them. Caesar seemed to be genuinely thinking about it. 

Sanji spoke low, eyes widening slowly. "The smoke."

Everyone turned to Smoker with varying degrees of awe and horror.

The marine crossed his arms and looked quite happy with himself. "I'm still training the temperature control, but I've mastered the density and once I have both it's over for any pirate I come across."

Nami looked equally smug for no reason. "Did you guys know that the smoke clouds from volcanic eruptions can even create lightning storms?"

All heads snap over to her.

"And pyroclastic flows can be hot enough to melt metal," Smoker added.

"Scary…" Chopper mumbled.

Caesar had gone quiet, taking glances at Smoker with mounting fear.

Wanda looked even more fascinated.

Sanji took a drag of his cigar, regarding the little trail of smoke with newfound respect.

"Yohohoho, magma and fire may be feared more for their immediate danger. But both are harmless compared to the one thing that accompanies both at their most extreme," Brook added, calmly plucking a string on his guitar.

Memories of Tangerines

— another random evening on Zou —

Smoker stood outside on the balcony, enjoying the crisp night air while smoking two cigars. He'd spend the day walking around, exploring the island and had helped remove rubble and debris from the city streets so the minks could begin rebuilding.

The door behind him swung open, revealing a redhead navigator. "I was about to say I'm surprised to see you here, but I'm not."

Smoker huffed, releasing a cloud of smoke in the process. "You're the one who doesn't let me smoke inside."

Nami leaned against the banister. "For good reason."

"Then why is the cook allowed to?"

"Because he only has a small cigarette, not an entire smoke factory going on." 

Smoker chuckled. "Alright, fair enough."

They let the silence settle after that, Nami looking up at the stars shining through the canopy while Smoker watched some birds sitting on the other side of the clearing.

After a while, Nami sighed. "Hey, Smoker?"

"Hm?" Smoker glanced over at her.

"Can you tell me something about Bellmere? Please," Nami asked, her gaze falling to the ground.

Smoker looked at her for a moment, before clearing his voice. "She was a good woman. Might have been the best marine out of all of us."

"Yeah, she was great," Nami smiled sadly.

Smoker grinned at a memory. "She's the reason I got my devil fruit in the first place, actually."

This made Nami's head snap up and over at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. On one of our first camping trips, as Garp called them," Smoker began, crossing his arms and leaning back against the banister.

— a random island in the East Blue, over 20 years ago —

"COME ON, SLOWPOKES!" Bellmere called from up ahead the trail, her ponytail jumping up and down as she skipped up the path.

Smoker heaved a sigh, readjusting his backpack. Behind him Hina, Rosinante and Drake seemed to suffer similarly.

If Smoker had known that this was what Vice Admiral Garp understood under training, he would have asked to be transferred to a different ship.

Instead, he was stuck with three idiots and the incarnation of the devil himself, posing as a purple haired girl forcing them to hike through the undergrowth for the past three hours. And on top of that Garp had literally thrown them overboard at some random island, saying he'll be back in a few days.

He didn't even acknowledge that out of the five of them only two could swim at all, because the other three were devil fruit users. 

A crash behind him made Smoker turn around. He only caught the last leg of Rosi falling down the fourth ravine before he turned back and continued on. Behind him Drake grabbed a vine and pulled hard once. With another crash the gangly blonde was pulled out of the ravine and promptly fell into a thorn bush on the other side.

At some point they finally reached a clearing near a small river and decided to make camp there. Bellmere dropped her pack and started rummaging through it. 

Smoker settled down at a nearby tree, letting his legs get some well deserved rest.

"You can't be serious, Beli," Drake said from where he'd perched himself on a nearby rock.

Bellmere turned around, grinning proudly, with a small box in one hand and a fishing rod in the other. "We're camping, guys! And the first thing you do when camping is fishing." 

Smoker pinched the bridge of his nose. For the love of whatever, why did he have to end up here.

"Hina will join you!" Hina stated matter of factly. 

Rosi, who was rummaging through his own pack, looked over at her. "You can't swim though."

"And you're on fire, Tumbleweed," she replied.

With that, the two girls left, leaving Smoker and Drake desperately trying to stop Rosinante from burning down the whole forest.

While the girls were still out, the boys set up the tents with only minor issues. 

"No, no, the stick has to be the other way around!" Drake said, checking the instructions.

"THE FUCK YOU MEAN? IT LOOKS THE SAME!" Smoker shouted, halfway buried underneath the tent fabric.

Rosi picked up a rope and pulled on it, making Smoker tumble and fully crash into the pile of supposed tent. "Ooops."

Smoker furiously flailed around trying to free himself from the fabric and stick prison, screaming muffled insults at nothing and everything.

Eventually, though, they managed to finish setting up everything. Drake had even managed to start a decent fire.

"What happened to you guys?" Bellmere asked, emerging from the woods with a few fish hanging from a stick on her back.

"Tents," Smoker grumbled, staring at the fire with hatred burning in his eyes.

Bellmere shrugged, trudging over and preparing the fish. Hina arrived a little later as well, dragging a massive cage behind her. Within sat something that could only be called the ugliest bird in existence. Feathers a garish purple and green, and its beak at least twice the size of its head. For some reason it kept staring in the same direction.

Smoker had already decided he didn't like the bird, giving it a nasty glare. The bird returned the gesture and soon both were deeply focused on their staring contest.

"... I have one question. Why?" Drake asked, letting out a long suffering sigh.

Hina put her hands on her hips. "This bird looked at Hina weirdly, so Hina decided to catch it. We could use it as food."

At the mention of being used as food, the bird began to flap its wings, desperately trying to escape.

"Hinaaaaa. Let the poor thing go," Rosinante pleaded, giving the smaller girl his best puppy eyes.

Hina tried for several minutes to stay stubborn while the bird cried pathetically in the background. Her eyebrow ticked. "ALRIGHT, FINE!"

With a flick of her wrist the cage began to disassemble. "But if Hina ever sees your beak again, Hina will take you as Hina's personal prisoner!"

The bird flapped its wings, stretching with the newfound freedom. It let out a low call and leapt for the first person in front of it. Which was Smoker.

The stupid bird pecked Smoker upside the head several times as he tried to throw it off of him. Of course the others were not helping – when would they ever. After having gotten its revenge, the bird flew off, leaving a furious Smoker behind.

"FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD BIRD!" he called after it. The others laughed even harder at his misery.

"STOP LAUGHING!" he screamed, which didn't help at all.

After that, the evening went by accident free (they had stopped counting Rosi's accidents, there were just too many) and Smoker spent the rest of the evening sulking underneath a tree.

The next morning was also quite uneventful. Smoker woke up, took a smoke break, watched as Tumbleweed emerged in a ball of limbs and utter chaos before said idiot fell face first into the nearest puddle. 

How he managed to find the only puddle in an otherwise dry forest would forever be a mystery to Smoker. 

With notfound enthusiasm Smoker set off to find something to do before Hina woke up. Her temper was well known throughout their entire marine class. Yet, only few had ever witnessed the absolute nightmare that was Hina fresh out of her beauty sleep.

Grabbing some leftover food from yesterday and grumbling something along the lines of "Be back soon. Or never," to Rosi he went off, looking for anything to do.

Which was how he ended up hanging upside down from a tree, surrounded by pirates.

Smoker hated this. He hated this island, he absolutely would punch Garp the next time he saw the so-called Hero of the Marines, and he would also set fire to his ship – this time on purpose.

"Look 'ere, didn't think the trap was any good but we caught a little rat," one of the pirates sneered, poking Smoker in the side with his rifle.

"Now what are we gonna do with ye, little marine?" another taunted. 

Smoker watched them, unimpressed. Why did pirates always have to be stupid idiots thinking themselves better and stronger than anyone else?

His attitude didn't even change as a loud roar rang out through the island. 

"The hell was that?" one of the pirates asked.

The other looked around, a hand on his sword hilt. "Dunno, but i don' wanna find out. Let's just grab the kid 'n' run."

With a swing of his blade the pirate cut Smoker down and immediately bound his hands together with rope.

Another deep roar rang out, this time closer. The pirates looked around frantically, pulling Smoker along a small trail and down to a hidden beach within a cave. More pirates were running around, packing chests aboard a decent sized ship with a jolly roger on the mast.

A man with an obnoxiously large hat shouted orders while waving his sword around. Must be the captain then, Smoker mused.

The next roar tore through the pirates and their fear was now rapidly morphing into panic. Smoker watched the chaos with a grin as he was hauled onto the ship.

Not even a few seconds later, a massive green dinosaur broke through the bushes with two girls on its back screaming gleefully. A third kid was desperately trying to hang onto the tail.

"IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE WE'RE HERE TO ARREST YOU! AHAHAHAHAHHA!" Bellmere hollered while essentially doing dinosaur rodeo.

"HINA WILL CATCH YOU ALL! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!" Hina shouted, cage bars stretching out from her hands and wrapping around the nearest pirates.

Drake continued to roar and rampage around the beach.

Yeah, Smoker may hate his friends, but damn was it satisfying to watch the pirates panic. In the face of a literal dinosaur, his kidnappers had all but forgotten him on the ship's deck. Smoker grinned smugly when suddenly a large shadow loomed over him. He looked up and was face to face with Rosinante, who had snuck on the ship without making a single sound.

"Took you guys long enough. You almost missed all the fun I was having," Smoker said while Rosi cut him loose.

However, their luck had to run out eventually as one of the pirates spotted Rosinante. "THE PRISONER'S ESCAPING! GET HIM!"

Smoker heaved a sigh and picked up the nearest potential weapon – which was a mop. "Ready for a fight, Tumbleweed?"

Rosi gave him a smile and nodded. With a battle cry, Smoker and Rosi leapt into the fray knocking out pirate after pirate.

A few minutes later they had tied up all the pirates and sat them in a row on the deck of their small ship.

"Good job, guys!" Bellmere called, giving a thumbs up from her position atop Dino-Drake.

Rosinante looked at the pirates. "So, what now?"

"I'd say we confiscate all their belongings, including the ship, and get back to Garp," Smoker offered, lighting another cigarette.

At that moment one of the doors on the ship was kicked open and Hina emerged with several chests dragging behind her. "Hina is waaaaay ahead of you idiots."

"Hey, that's OUR treasure!" one of the pirates objected. However, his bravery faltered when he was faced by a row of very sharp, very big dino teeth.

"You boys check these chests, Beli and Hina will take this one," Hina said, dragging a more ornate box away from Smoker and Rosinante.

"Whatever," Smoker huffed and began tinkering with the other chest's lock. Rosi helpfully offered a keyring he'd found who knows where.

Bellmere and Hina had opened their chest, keeping the contents hidden with their backs, and had begun whispering between each other.

"Shouldn't we report this?" Hina asked quietly.

Bellmere shook her head. "Nah, that's boring and you know it."

"You're right. Do you want it?"

"No way, I'm not giving up my second favourite hobby."

"It looks a bit like–" Hina mused.

Smoker sighed. "I can hear you over there. What did you find?"

Bellmere looked over. "Nothing, keep doing… whatever you're doing."

With that the girls went back to whispering, this time even quieter. Smoker fumbled with another key after having no luck with the previous three.

From the corner of his eyes he could see Bellmere and Hina briefly looking at him. Then they went back to talking with each other. Another brief look, a very suspicious smile from Bellmere, then back to being secretive.

Smoker had a bad feeling. They had found something and whatever it was, they had a plan for it.

He just hoped it didn't include him. With a click the chest in front of him opened. Inside was a variety of gems and crystals. Rosinante leaned over, eyes big and mouth hanging open.

The marine base was going to love this, Smoker was sure. They may be rookie marines, still in training, but they also just managed to defeat an entire pirate crew on their own AND had gotten stolen treasure back.

Smoker grinned proudly. When he heard the footsteps, it was already too late.

"Hey Smokey!" Bellmere shouted.

"WHA–" That was all Smoker managed to get out before Bellmere shoved something in his mouth, slamming her hand over his face so he couldn't spit it out.

Smoker flailed and tried with all his might to get Bellmere off of him, grabbing her arms and pulling at her hands. A disgusting taste spread through his mouth and made the hair on his neck rise. It was getting hard to breathe and in one last effort Smoker swallowed whatever disgusting thing that was so he could lick Bellmere's hand. 

She promptly let go with a shout, shaking her wet hand off. "EWWWW!"

Smoker coughed a few times, his eyes watering slightly. "WHAT THE–" another cough, "WHAT WAS THAT?! DID YOU JUST TRY TO KILL ME??" Smoker screamed, the bitter taste still lingering in the back of his throat.

Bellmere looked at him in confusion, as if she was expecting something. Hina walked up to her, a similar expression on her face.

"Hey, what's going on? I was just bringing the last pirates below deck, what did you guys do?" Drake jogged over, looking concerned between Smoker and the girls.

Smoker coughed again. "I don't know, Beli just made me eat something disgusting."

Drake sighed and went over to pat him on the back.

His hand went through Smoker's chest and left a smoke trail behind.

The silence was deafening.

Smoker's eyes widened as he looked at the hole in his chest. Then at Drake and Rosinante. Then at Bellmere and Hina. Then back at the hole.

Hina was the first to speak. " Holy shit," she whispered.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Smoker hollered, watching as the smoke slowly reformed into his body.

Bellmere just started laughing. "AHAHAHAHAHHA, THIS IS BETTER THAN I THOUGHT!"

Rosinante walked over and poked holes into Smoker's shoulder. "It's kinda funny," he chuckled.

Smoker swatted his hand away. "Would you STOP THAT?"

Drake cleared his voice, a serious look on his face. "You're right, this isn't funny."

Smoker huffed. "Thank y–"

"It's fucking hilarious," Drake added, stifling a laugh behind his hand. He immediately had to duck to avoid getting punched by Smoker.

"You guys are the worst!" he shouted, face flushed red in anger and embarrassment.

Hina giggled behind him. "Smoker ate the smoke-smoke fruit. This will forever be Hina's favourite day."

Smoker groaned in defeat. Then he began chasing Bellmere around the deck of the ship, who kept on laughing and laughing.

Eventually he had to give up and sat down at the railing. This would forever be the worst day he'd ever had. Although, having gained the power of the smoke logia was pretty cool. 

Maybe he could forgive Bellmere this one time. But only this once.

— present day on Zou —

"Bellmere made you eat it?" Nami said surprised. 

Smoker chuckled. "I asked her later if she'd known what fruit it was and she denied. She said it just looked kinda like a cloud."

Nami smiled, looking up at the night sky. "Yeah, that sounds like her."

"And after that she helped me set Garp's ship on fire," Smoker said proudly, making Nami laugh.

Chapter Text

Tashigi gets a new sword

— G-5 Marine Base —

As much as Tashigi had wanted to stay with the children at the G-14 Base, she still had her own work to do. Since Smoker was still missing the command of the G-5 Unit 01 fell to her, even if she was just a captain.

After the reveal and subsequent defeat of former Vice Admiral Vergo the base command was given to Commodore Yarisugi until the Marine headquarters assigned a new Vice Admiral for the position.

Tashigi sat in her office, papers strewn all over the table and some on the floor, her third cup of coffee left forgotten somewhere underneath it. She might be able to keep the facade up before her men and the children but internally she was an absolute wreck. It wasn't the amount of paperwork – she'd often written reports just as long into the night as Smoker – but it was the fact she had to suddenly manage so many things at once.

She buried her head in her hands, shoving her glasses up and sighed deeply.

Bele-bele-bele

Her head sluggishly rose up at the sound of her transponder snail ringing.

Bele-bele-bele

Slowly Tashigi reached over to pick up the call.

Bele-bele- gatcha

"Captain Tashigi speaking, if you want to talk to Vice Admiral Smoker, he's not here and won't be for a while," she rattled off with a tired, monotone voice like she had for almost all calls in the past days. 

A gentle chuckle came as a response. "Haha, I know. I actually wanted to talk to you, Tashigi."

Tashigi's eyes widened slightly, recognizing the voice as Admiral Fujitora. "Oh, uh– yes, Sir, what can I do for you, Admiral?"

"I didn't mean to bother you at this time, I just had a lot to handle until now," the Admiral said, his voice carrying a similar fatigue to Tashigis. Not surprising after what Tashigi had read about the Dressrosa incident.

The Admiral continued. "I've met Smoker while I was on Dressrosa and–"

Tashigi sat up, slamming a hand on the table and making more papers fall off. "You did? Is he alright, will he be back soon? Did the Strawhats hurt him? What–"

"Calm down, captain, there is nothing to worry about," Fujitora chuckled, stopping Tashigi in her rambling.

She cleared her voice. "I'm sorry, Admiral."

Fujitora didn't seem to be bothered, his voice gentle and understanding. "Smoker was doing well, last I saw him. I may have offered him a new position as a spy on the Strawhat ship."

Tashigi's eyes went wide.

"I'm still working on the paperwork to transfer him to SWORD so he has the freedom to do his new job."

Tashigi stayed quiet for a moment. Smoker had joined the Strawhats. As an undercover spy. It wasn't unusual for him to go off on solo missions, leaving Tashigi in charge of their men, but this ? 

"He won't be coming back, will he?" Tashigi asked, her voice a mix of anger and irritation.

Fujitora sighed. "No, he won't. Oh, and before I forget, the headquarters wants to promote you to Commodore. I'm guessing there aren't many people keen on a command on G-5."

Tashigi exhaled a long breath, her anger not quite dissipating but cooling down. "Thank you for informing me, Admiral Fujitora."

"It is my duty. And I thought you would prefer to hear it from me and not a report. I'm sure we'll see each other. Take care, Tashigi."

With a short goodbye Tashigi ended the call and leaned back in her chair. 

She was frustrated. Angry, maybe a bit disappointed but incredibly irritated. How dare Smoker go off and just join a pirate crew, even if he was undercover. Sure, the Strawhats were nice for a pirate crew and seemed to have some semblance of morals but they were still pirates. 

Tashigi had to get into contact with Smoker. Mostly to berate him because how dare he, but also to ask why. Why now, what happened to his marine pride. To siding with justice…

Maybe that's it. Tashigi thought back on Punk Hazard, the children and Vergo, who had infiltrated the marines and used them for his own pirate agenda. And even further back, Marineford, Alabasta, even the reports on Cocoyashi and Shellstown. 

Smoker and Tashigi had seen their fair share of corruption within the marine ranks, had seen the World Government turn a blind eye. 

And the Strawhats were always there. Righting the wrong, exposing the truth and bringing justice back. 

Tashigi let out a long sigh. Smoker had clashed with his superiors more often than not, had questioned and openly rejected the coverups and now had gotten a chance to truly dig into the World Government and unearth all they had hidden behind false news.

Maybe it was time to stop dividing the world into pirates and marines, black and white. Tashigi's face hardened as did her resolve. If that's what Smoker wanted to do, Tashigi would support him from here. 

Beginning with keeping the G-5 in check and making sure the children from Punk Hazard could return to their parents.

With newfound vigour she began writing her reports but fell asleep within the next half hour, spilling her hidden and forgotten coffee cup across her work.

— a few days later, somewhere on the sea near G-5 —

"Commodore Tashigi, we just got a call from a nearby island. They said they saw an unidentified pirate ship."

Tashigi looked up from the map she'd been studying. "Send the nearest ship to intercept and apprehend."

Gal saluted, though not immediately departing to relay the order. "Well, about that. Our ship is currently closest."

"Alright, then we will apprehend them." Tashigi stood and began walking out of her ship's quarters, Gal hot on her heels.

Her unit was, as always, a rowdy group. Someone was playing music, another group had begun a game of cards and there was a faint smell of burnt food. 

"Everyone on deck! We have a pirate ship to find and pirates to arrest!" Tashigi ordered, her voice carrying across the deck and soon her men were buzzing around excitedly. 

Not even an hour later she could make out the faint shape of a ship on the horizon and – as they came closer – the jolly roger on the main mast. 

Luckily it wasn't a well known flag from a Yonko or one of the supernovae, only one of the local pirates they'd been trying to catch since the Strawhats had left Fishman Island, freeing a large amount of pirates from down there.

As they approached, Tashigi ordered to open fire as soon as they were in range. Their enemy returned the favor and soon both ships were caught in a cannon fight. 

From the corner of her eyes Tashigi saw a cannon ball headed right for their mast. She jumped, pulling Shigure out in the motion and deflected the explosive with a swift strike. It landed harmlessly in the water, away from their ship.

The ships slowly closed the gap between each other, circling and firing and receiving damage. The closer they got the more pirates and marines gave up the cannons to stand at the railing, hollering and howling, eager for battle.

Then, as the ships finally came side to side, the battle erupted. Pirates and marines crossed the ships borders, invading enemy territory and swinging blades left and right. 

Tashigi jumped over, slicing down pirates in her way, eyes focused on taking out as many enemies as possible. 

As she cut down another pirate she could feel an attack coming from behind. Swinging Shigure in an arc she barely blocked a pirate taking a swing at her back.

"So you're the one in charge here?" the pirate taunted. "No boss around to protect you, huh? Little miss captain."

Tashigis glared at him, swinging her sword at him. "Commodore now, and I am more than enough for the likes of you, pirate!" 

They clashed, splinters flying when their swords hit wood as they evaded and parried attacks from each other. Tashigi had to admit, the pirate was a decent swordsman, but also a terrible person. 

He taunted and spat insults at her, but Tashigi had long gotten used to being treated like that from men like him. She swung Shigure in an obvious horizontal arc, making the pirate evade backwards. Right into the railing. His eyes widened as he barely managed to block her next slash with his sword. 

"Stupid marine!" he grunted, rolling to the side and retaliating with an upwards swing. Tashigi shifted to the side, letting her enemy's blade harmlessly glide off of Shigure. 

Their fight continued on between the gunshots and clashes around them. They exchanged slashes and parries until they stood face to face, swords crossed between them.

Tashigi turned her body sideways, letting Shigure slide down to the other sword's hilt and, with a quick move, snapped it right out of the pirate's hands. 

Tashigi grabbed the sword and ended the fight with a double slash.

For a moment everything went quiet. Tashigi had to take a few deep breaths, rubbing the sweat off her face. She still held onto the pirate's katana.

It felt surprisingly good in her hand, matching Shigure's weight and size. Its guard was clover shaped with feathers engraved into it. Wait– feathers?

No, it couldn't be! Tashigi fumbled around, quickly sheathing Shigure and pulling out her sword encyclopedia. She flipped through the pages, everything around her forgotten because this was a named sword – how cool was that!

"Attack from three o'clock," came a monotonous voice and Tashigi whirled around, barely avoiding a face full of pirate. She quickly cut the pirate down with her new sword. 

The battle seemed to come to an end as Tashigi's men took care of the last pirates left, many already tied in chains and ropes.

However, she couldn't find out who it was that warned her of the attack. Until she looked down at her shirt pocket.

A very disappointed snail was looking up at her.

"Sorry Samantha, thanks for warning me," Tashigi said, bowing her head slightly.

Samantha rolled her eyes and went back into the pocket.

— a little while later —

Now that the pirates had been arrested and brought into holding cells on the G-5 base, Tashigi finally had time to do the important work.

Looking at her new sword.

Beside the ornate guard, the sword was relatively simply decorated. A dark blue hilt with small silver details and fitting scabbard of the same color, although with small silver flowers at the end of it.

Tashigi flew over the pages of her small book until she found the exact same sword pictured on one of the pages.

"Bukyotori…" she said quietly, comparing the picture to the katana in front of her. Yep, that's the one. A skillful grade blade too. How it had gotten into the hands of such a lowly pirate she would never find out, but now it was here and safe from further misuse.

Tashigi stood up and took Bukyotori and Shigure with her. She still couldn't shake the feeling she had gotten back on the ship, when wielding both swords at the same time.

The training grounds were thankfully empty this late in the day, so Tashigi didn't have to worry about attracting a crowd. As capable as her men were, they were also pretty simple, unfortunately.

She pulled both swords and took a few slow swings, not quite used to wielding two katanas. Yet it felt somehow natural, both blades harmonizing well together, cutting through the air in fluid moves woven together.

It reminded her of Zoro, wielding his three swords as if they were part of him. It filled her with envy and determination. One day, she swore to herself, she would beat Zoro. If he wanted to become the greatest swordsman, then she had to become the greatest swordswoman. 

Her blades gleamed in the late evening light, reflecting her resolve. She still had a long way to go, but that wouldn't stop her. 

She also had to return Samantha Calypso, Smoker's GPSnail, who had been living with her since Punk Hazard. They were getting along, but it was clear that Samantha Calypso was barely tolerating Tashigi even on her best days.

And speaking of Punk Hazard, she still hadn't forgiven Smoker for his conduct when inhabiting her body. It could have been worse, she knew that, but she still had trouble breathing sometimes due to the cigar Smoker had insisted on. 

He'd even worn her shirt open all the way, which had led to Tashigi getting a nasty cold a few days later. The fact Smoker had somehow managed to open and remove her bra on his own without anyone noticing was still impressive to her though. But that was beside the point.

Smoker had a stern lecture coming his way and Tashigi could and would make him listen to it. 

Revelations that somehow make sense

— random day after Luffy's group arrived on Zou —

"Ok, a bit higher, yeah that's good, now hold it there!" a mink called out over the noise of rebuilding in the city while Franky and Smoker were helping a group of minks with a new framework for a previously destroyed house.

Smoker lifted the wooden beams up and held them in place while Franky and other minks secured them. It wasn't really difficult in terms of power, as Smoker was able to lift several people in his smoke clouds, however this job required him to work on his precision in holding several targets at a specific point for a period of time. 

They worked until late afternoon, only taking a short lunch break in between. As the sun went down they decided to call it a day and Franky and Smoker returned to where the rest of the Strawhats were staying at the moment.

The smell of freshly cooked dinner wafted through the door as they entered. Robin greeted them from where she was sitting, a book in one hand and a teacup in the other.

Smoker had to take a step to the side as Luffy's back came flying towards him, probably from being literally kicked out of the kitchen. Not even a second later the Strawhat came bouncing back in, screaming about meat with a large smile on his face.

Lively as ever, then. Smoker shook his head with a soft smile before sitting down at a nearby table, happy to finally sit down after a long day of work. 

Dinner was chaotic as usual, with Luffy stealing from everyone's plate – Smoker thwarted the attempt on his food with a haki covered fork once again – and Usopp retelling the grand adventures he had today. Chopper was animatedly talking to one of the mink doctors and Brook had decided to accompany dinner with a little music. Zoro had already fallen asleep again, probably exhausted from getting lost three times today while getting wood.

"And besides, Brook and Smokey are waaaay older than the rest of us," Luffy said, mouth full of meat, smiling brightly. "They're, like, the grandpas of my crew."

Smoker's eyebrow ticked. He hadn't listened to what the Strawhat was talking about earlier, but being called a grandpa ? "The hell you mean by grandpa?" he growled.

Luffy's head snapped over to him, a confused look on his face. "Your hair is white so you gotta be old, right?"

Smoker leaned forward, biting down on his one cigar – he wasn't allowed two while indoors – staring down the Strawhat and asked with a low voice: "How old do you think I am?"

Luffy hummed, scrunching his eyebrows in thought. "I dunno," he swallowed his food, "like, at least 50."

50? Was this kid serious? Smoker slammed a hand on the table, catching everyone's attention. "I'm 36, you dipshit!"

"Really?" Luffy's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

"Wait, we're the same age?" Franky asked, eyes wide. "I thought for sure you were older than me."

Robin chuckled. "I think it's the white hair."

"It's definitely the hair," Nami agreed.

Smoker pinched the bridge of his nose. "White hair doesn't automatically mean old."

Zoro, having been woken up by the commotion, opened his eye slightly to look at Smoker. "It kind of does."

Smoker glared at him. "Well, it used to be a light grey-green and the only reason it's white now is because you idiots stress me out for no reason!"

Luffy perked up. "Does that mean Zoro will also get white hair?"

Both Smoker and Zoro stared over at him, making Luffy squirm in his seat. "You know, because his hair is green."

"That's not how it works?" Zoro said, questioning both his captain's nonexistent logic and his own sanity.

"Then why is your hair green?" Luffy asked.

Zoro gave him a flat look. "Because my mom Tera had green hair."

Smoker raised an eyebrow at that. "Tera?"

"You had a mom?" Usopp asked, leaning over.

Nami sighed exasperated. "Everyone does, you idiot."

"I don't!" Luffy grinned before stuffing himself with more food.

"Just because you don't know her doesn't mean you don't have one," Nami explained.

Smoker had gone a little quiet, looking over at Zoro with an unreadable expression. "Your mother's name is Tera?"

Zoro glanced at him. "Yes."

"Green hair, from East Blue?"

"Yes?"

"Was her father a bandit?"

"Yes, how do you know that?"

Zoro was getting visibly uncomfortable, but Smoker had to make sure of something. It didn't look good so far, making him nervous.

Smoker continued asking, not noticing how everyone around them had gotten quiet, watching the two of them with bated breath.

"Did she have an older and a younger sister?"

Zoro's eye widened as he whispered in response. "She did."

You could have heard a pin drop in the room as everyone stared at Zoro and Smoker.

A hundred thoughts raced through Smoker's head at once as the realization sunk in. "I just described my aunt, called Tera," he whispered.

Nobody dared to breathe or make any noise. Usopp's face already began to turn purple from lack of oxygen.

Then the room erupted.

"WHAT??"

"HOW IS THAT–"

"THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"

Smoker just stared at Zoro, who stared back at him, while chaos erupted around them.

Robin hid a laugh behind her hand. "I guess that makes you cousins then."

Smoker groaned, covering his face with his hands. Zoro stood up and grabbed every bottle he could find, muttering something along the lines of "I'm too sober for this."

Nobody really noticed as Smoker's head landed on the table in absolute defeat. Zoro was his cousin. Whyyyyyyyyyyy.

Heaving a sigh, Smoker turned his head to the side and looked over at Zoro chugging an entire barrel of alcohol. Letting a tendril of smoke float over he grabbed one of the bottles surrounding the swordsman – because getting drunk seemed like the only reasonable thing to do right now.

He was a marine for crying out loud. And now he had a cousin who was not only one of the supernovae, he was also the right hand of a potential emperor and one of the most wanted swordsmen ever. And a pirate.

This wasn't how he imagined this to go, not now, not ever.

Usopp put a hand to his chin. "Now that I think about it, you two do look a lot alike." 

"And you have the same horrible sense of direction," Nami added.

No, he was definitely too sober for this.

Family Ties and Black Eyes

The door slammed shut. A loud click followed.

Smoker stared at the bamboo hut's door. "They just locked us in."

Robin's voice floated from outside. "Correct."

"You do know I can turn into smoke and leave, right?"

"And I could cut down this door in one swing," Zoro added, already flexing his fingers.

"Try it," Nami warned sweetly from the other side. "And I raise both your debts."

Zoro froze. Smoker blinked.

"… I don't have any debt," Smoker argued, slightly panicked.

"You will if you test me."

Zoro sighed and sat down. "She's not bluffing. Just wait it out."

Smoker glared at him, then at the window. He could make it through there. Probably. But Nami's wrath was the kind of thing he didn't want to face. He'd seen how she treated her captain. So he sat.

"You two talk like adults now, then we'll let you out. Have fun!" Nami ordered.

They did not talk.

Smoker picked up a stick from the floor and poked at the ashes in the cold fire pit. Zoro leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes like he was trying to will the entire situation out of existence.

After a few minutes Zoro muttered, "So. My mom's your aunt."

Smoker grunted. "Guess so."

"... Weird."

"Yep."

Another silence.

"Wanna fight about it?" Zoro asked eventually.

Smoker lit a cigar. "Always."

Zoro cracked his knuckles. "Good."

They stood up in sync, stretched, and walked outside, completely ignoring the still-locked door by just kicking it off its hinges.

Nami didn't even flinch. "How'd it go?"

"Great," Zoro said.

"Deeply emotional," Smoker added, nodding.

Robin looked genuinely pleased. "Progress."

Zoro took off his swords and tucked them into a corner. Then they hit the dirt.

Without his jitte, Smoker resorted to brute force and technique – mostly brute force. Zoro fought like a boulder with elbows – relentless and heavy – and entirely too enthusiastic for someone not using weapons.

They rolled across the grass outside the hut, fists and elbows flying.

Smoker got a grip around Zoro's middle and twisted. Zoro grunted and tried to knee him in the ribs. Someone might've been bleeding already. Hard to tell.

From the side, Nami crossed her arms and sighed. "They're wrestling now?"

"They're processing," Robin said calmly.

That was when Chopper trotted up, carrying a fruit basket. "Oh no! Are they fighting?! Should I get Luffy?"

"They're talking about their feelings," Nami said.

Right on cue, Smoker landed a left hook that cracked across Zoro's jaw. Chopper screamed.

Zoro wiped the blood off his lip and grinned like a feral wolf. "Thought you can hit harder than that, cousin."

Then Luffy arrived, of course.

"WHOA! Are we wrestling?!" he yelled enthusiastically, already halfway into a flying leap. He crashed into both of them like a human cannonball and dragged the brawl into full three-way chaos.

From their vantage point, Nami and Robin watched Zoro elbow Luffy in the ribs while Smoker got him in a headlock and tried to bring both of them down.

Robin crossed her arms. "I think that's enough closure for today."

Nami nodded. "They'll be fine."

The sounds of grunting, thudding, and increasingly creative swearing continued in the background as the two women walked off, completely unbothered. This was, after all, as close to emotional intimacy as those two idiots would ever get.

The flag you sail under

It was the night before the crew would split again. Zou bustled with lantern light and music, minks moving between huts with food and stories, the Strawhats scattered among them. The celebration was quieter than some – a farewell, not a party – but still filled with warmth.

Smoker wanted none of it.

He'd spent most of the evening dodging Chopper's judgmental stares, which had a way of hitting even harder when delivered by a reindeer not even a quarter of his size. No matter how often Smoker explained that the smoke couldn't damage his lungs – the reindeer insisted on him cutting down, at least a bit. 

Sanji, his reluctant smoking partner, was gone. Nekomamushi was surrounded by admirers as usual. Which left Smoker to fend for himself.

He'd picked up the local tobacco, and Zou didn't disappoint. A deep, earthy burn with a strange sweetness to it. Shame he wouldn't find it anywhere else in the world. Smoker would miss it. In true Nekomamushi custom, he'd started smoking it from a simple wooden pipe, which now rested between his teeth as he picked his way through the edge of the village – just far enough to find peace, but not so far that he couldn't still hear the laughter and bustle behind him.

He spotted Luffy and Zoro sitting close together, both unusually serious. Probably discussing the split. Luffy would be leaving with Nami, Chopper and Brook to get Sanji back. Zoro and the rest would sail for Wano. Smoker let them be.

He found a spot just beyond the last of the huts – a low stone wall, shaded by a tall, bowing tree. He settled with a quiet grunt and struck a match. The first drag soothed his nerves, the smoke curling warmly in his lungs. He exhaled slowly, letting his muscles finally begin to relax.

He wasn't hiding. Not really. He just didn't feel like being a marine right now. Or a pirate. Or a spy.

Footsteps approached, light and familiar.

Smoker didn't turn around. "You're not subtle, Strawhat."

Luffy dropped onto the mossy stone beside him anyway, legs crossed, grinning like he always did when he was about to say something weird or painfully direct.

"You gonna leave?" Luffy asked.

Smoker took another slow drag. "Thought about it."

"The marines sent you, right?" Luffy squinted into the dark. "To keep an eye on us."

Smoker grunted. "Something like that."

There was a long pause.

Luffy leaned back on his palms, tilting his head to the sky. "You're not very good at spying."

Smoker barked a dry laugh. "Thanks."

Another pause. Then, quieter, Luffy asked, "So? What are you gonna do now?"

Smoker stared out past the trees. Past the slope. Into the dark, where the ocean roared somewhere far below.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I used to think justice was simple. Catch the bad guys. Lock them up. Save innocent people." He tapped the pipe against the edge of a rock. "But I've watched you save kingdoms the government abandoned. I've watched you do more good by accident than most admirals do on purpose." He exhaled, smoke curling out of the corner of his mouth. "I believed in the system. I enforced it. But I'm starting to think the whole damn thing's rotten."

Luffy nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Smoker looked over at him, surprised. Luffy wasn't looking back. He just picked up a stick and started poking patterns in the moss.

"But people don't have to be," Luffy added.

They sat in silence, letting that one land.

Eventually, Smoker muttered, "I don't know if I can fix it from the inside."

"Then don't." Luffy shrugged. "If you're gonna fight for people, that's what matters. Doesn't matter what flag you sail under."

Smoker shook his head, letting the smile tug at the edge of his mouth despite himself. "That's it? It's that simple?"

Luffy stood, brushing off his pants. "Dunno. You'll figure it out." He turned to walk back toward the village, then paused. "You're not a bad guy, Smoker," Luffy said over his shoulder. 

Smoker didn't answer. Just stared at the sky, where the stars shimmered cold and bright over the dark silhouette of the elephant's back. He stayed there a long time after Luffy was gone. Pipe still smoking in his hand.

Plot part idk we are going to Wano: How to infiltrate a foreign country by Fallout Boy

Luffy had left a few days ago, grabbing Nami, Brook, Chopper and a few others before literally jumping off of the elephant. Nobody was really surprised. At least nobody that had known the captain long enough to have gotten their own fair share of Luffy-related flying incidents.

Smoker stood at the edge of Zou, looking down into the abyss. The ocean wasn't even visible from above, no wonder Nami and Chopper had screamed their lungs out. 

"And you're sure you can carry all that in one go?" Usopp called from behind him, placing another bag on the growing pile of stuff they were given for their journey to Wano.

Smoker turned around and walked towards the pile. "Yes, I'm sure. I got this."

Alright, maybe Smoker had underestimated the amount of stuff and struggled just a little, but in the end they loaded everything on a small ship they had been given since Luffy had taken the Sunny.

Smoker lit another cigar and exhaled a plume of smoke. He had been at Nekomamushi's home when Sanji was taken, enjoying the pipe tobacco that the oversized cat was so enamored with. And Smoker had to admit, it was good stuff.

Then he had heard the gunshots. When he and Nekomamushi arrived it was already too late. Brook, Chopper and Nami had been thrown out of Bege's castle body, had screamed and begged for Sanji to join them – to no avail.

Brook had later told him what happened. Sanji – a Vinsmoke apparently – had been taken to Big Mom's territory to get married to one of her daughters. What a shit show. And to make matters worse, Luffy had immediately decided to go after his cook.

As if they hadn't pissed off enough emperors in the last weeks. 

Again, they had split into groups, planning to reunite on the next island. Kinemon had created the majority of the plan up until the moment Luffy would arrive. 

Smoker had to stifle a grin. No plan would ever work if it involved the Strawhat, yet everyone still tried their hardest to change that fact.

Slowly, the rest of the group began joining Smoker on the deck of the ship – one last meeting until they departed.

Kinemon cleared his voice. "Alright, everyone listen up. Once we reach Wano, you all have to play your roles, gather information and keep a low profile," he explained, looking over each of the Strawhats.

Smoker looked over at Zoro. He still couldn't quite believe that they were cousins. 

Kinemon kept talking. "Just to repeat it, Usopp will be a merchant, Robin will work as a geisha, Franky has an internship with a famous woodworker, Smoker will infiltrate the local law enforcement and Zoro will patrol the area as a ronin. Everybody clear?"

Nods and words of affirmation came in response before they all scattered, getting the ship ready.

Smoker took another drag from his cigars. He will miss them the most.

Chapter Text

Mimawarigumi Station 8 was a handful of small, rundown barracks with a suspicious lack of guards. Smoker adjusted his borrowed yukata, squared his shoulders, and walked straight into the main building like he owned the place.

There was a man behind the reception desk. He looked tired. Not battle-weary – paperwork-weary. The kind of tired that said, I've been trying to requisition a new ink brush since the Moon Festival and no one's answered my letter.

Smoker approached.

"Name?" the man asked automatically.

"Smokatsu," Smoker said smoothly. "Exchange samurai. Orochi Oniwabanshu rotation program."

The man blinked. "There's an exchange program?"

"There is," Smoker said, completely serious.

The receptionist hesitated, clearly flipping through imaginary files in his head. "You're from…?"

"Orochi's personal division," Smoker replied. "Special assignment. Top-secret. I'm only telling you because I respect Station 8's role in the regional defense grid."

The man sat up straighter.

Smoker leaned in slightly. "You didn't lose the paperwork?"

The man blanched. "I– maybe I misplaced it. Or– there was a tea stain incident last week, maybe–"

"No worries," Smoker said. "With the shogun's seal, the ink tends to smear easily."

The man nodded like that explained everything. "Right. I'll just… note it in the employee forms."

Smoker nodded gravely. "Wouldn't want to disappoint the shogun."

The man paled.

"Room key?" Smoker asked politely and held out his hand.

"Oh– yes! Of course!"

Thirty seconds later, Smoker was walking down the hall with a borrowed key, a free towel, and the absolute certainty that Mimawarigumi Station 8 would be even easier to infiltrate than he'd initially thought.

He passed another officer in the corridor. The man squinted at him.

Smoker nodded. "Smokatsu. Transfer order."

The man nodded back, didn't ask any questions.

Smoker entered the empty bunkroom and shut the door behind him. So far, so good. Phase one had gone disturbingly well.

Phase two? Even better.

Smoker stepped into the admin wing of Station 8, nodded once to a guy drowning in scrolls, and said: "I need my patrol assignment paperwork. Exchange program rotation."

The man, mid-scroll-sorting, blinked. "The Oniwabanshu guy?"

"Yes."

A moment of hesitation, more sorting – then panic.

"Oh gods, you were supposed to be here next week, weren't you?!"

Smoker raised a brow. "Was I? That's not what my orders said."

The man's soul visibly left his body. "No-no-no, it's fine, I'm sure it was an internal delay, no one told me– I'll get you on Unit B, they're a man short since Steve went into paternity leave. One second–"

Smoker nodded once, received a scrawled schedule, and left.

Next stop: the weapon master, who resided in a little building across the courtyard. An older, grizzled man with the kind of energy that suggested he could kill with a chopstick. He narrowed his eyes as Smoker entered.

"And you are?"

"Smokatsu."

"Samurai?"

"Ninja. Exchange program."

The master grunted. "Where's your sword?"

"Don't need one," Smoker said. "We train with other weapons in the Oniwabanshu. I'm requesting a jitte."

The man squinted harder. "No blade?"

"I bring criminals in alive."

The weapon master grunted again – this time with approval.

He turned and rifled through racks of gleaming swords and knives. Eventually, he held up a finely crafted jitte with a leather-bound handle and faint engravings along the shaft.

"This'll do. Not my best, but it's got weight. You're a big guy, you should be able to wield it without problem."

Smoker took it, flipped it in his hand once, and nodded. It wasn't his old one, but the balance was solid.

"Form," the master said, handing him a clipboard with a list.

Smoker signed it with a flourish: Smokatsu. No last name.

"You're clear," the man said.

And that was that. No questions. No papers verified. No chain of command consulted. Just blind, exhausted confidence in The System.

Smoker exited back into the courtyard, jitte on his belt.

The guy from admin who had finalized his assignment spotted him and waved him over. 

"Oh hey, there you are! I got your new identification badge!" he said cheerfully, holding out a slim wooden tag with official script:

Station 8 – Unit B, Patrol – Smokatsu

Smoker took it. Clipped it on.

He was in.

~*~

Smoker (no – Smokatsu, he reminded himself) adjusted his new jitte on his belt and stepped into the outer courtyard. Morning drills were just ending, and a few samurai were wiping down their blades or yelling half-heartedly at training dummies.

Three officers were waiting for him, clearly his new unit. All sword fighters – no surprise there. None particularly threatening.

One of them – tall, broad-shouldered, and sporting a massive scar straight across his face – grinned when he saw Smokatsu. "Hey! You must be the new guy! Smokatsu, right?"

Smokatsu nodded. "That's me."

"I'm Dokon," the scarred man said, slapping his own chest like he needed to confirm it. "This is Beikyuu–" he pointed at a woman with short-cropped hair and an eyepatch over her left eye "– and that's Hijitaka." The third was lankier, quiet, with a sleepy expression.

"We're Squad B," Dokon declared proudly. "Because we're just the B plot."

Smokatsu blinked. "... What?"

Beikyuu waved a hand. "Don't think too hard about it. He says that every time."

Dokon clapped a hand on Smokatsu's shoulder. "You're with us now. Come on, let's do the most thrilling thing known to Wano: morning patrol."

~*~

The Flower Capital was waking up as they set off – paper lanterns flickering out, shutters cracking open, vendors yelling their specials with loud enthusiasm. Smokatsu walked with his new unit through quiet alleys and busier streets, watching life unfold in a blur of ordinary.

Dokon did not stop talking.

"– so then I tell Steve, no way your kid's gonna grow up without knowing how to properly polish a katana, and he says, 'what if she wants to be a calligrapher,' and I say – listen, do you know how sharp calligraphy brushes are? Because I don't, but that's not the point–"

They passed a tea house. A shrine. A merchant selling pickled eggs. Absolutely nothing suspicious.

Beikyuu finally turned to Smokatsu. "So what brings a high-flying Oniwabanshu guy to boring-ass Station 8?"

Smokatsu lied smoothly. "Station 8 has an impressive reputation. It's an honor to serve here."

Dokon snorted so hard he nearly tripped over his own sandals. "Someone lied to you."

Beikyuu laughed. "Station 8's where you go when you're too competent to get fired but too lazy for promotion."

Hijitaka nodded. "Our biggest crisis last month was a cat stuck in a sake barrel."

Smokatsu frowned. "Did it survive?"

"No," Hijitaka said, perfectly deadpan. "It thrived. Lives in the record room now. We call it Sakespear."

Smokatsu decided not to ask further.

Dokon looped back to his favorite topic. "Anyway, Steve's gonna love it when we stop by. He's on paternity leave now – first baby!"

Beikyuu grinned. "What do we bring a newborn? A training sword?"

"A giant duck plushie," Hijitaka offered immediately.

Smokatsu stared at them. "Why would a baby want a sword?"

Beikyuu patted his shoulder. "You're gonna fit in just fine, Smokatsu."

Smokatsu sighed and wished for one of his cigars. These people were just… guys. Regular, underpaid, over-caffeinated guys with swords.

By the time they returned to Station 8, nothing had happened. No crime. No suspects. No conspiracies. Just three idiots bickering about baby gifts and one deeply undercover pirate-marine wondering how this was somehow both the worst and best espionage mission of his entire career.

~*~

The courtyard at Station 8 was mostly used for smoke breaks and dramatic arguments over who used the last of the ink. Today, it was being used for "training." Which, apparently, meant smacking your coworkers with sticks and hoping your superior didn't walk by.

Hijitaka and Beikyuu were already stretching out. Smokatsu stood opposite them, jitte at his side. Dokon sat on a bench nearby, loudly crunching dried squid. "Alright, let's keep it friendly – by which I mean no hospital visits unless you're sure it'll be funny."

Beikyuu rolled her shoulder. "Says the guy who shattered a crate last week pretending to be the Spirit of the Sword."

"Hey," Dokon pointed a squid tentacle at her. "You felt the spirituality."

Hijitaka sighed and cracked his neck. "Let's just fight."

Smokatsu raised his jitte.

They didn't hold back. Beikyuu was fast, with sharp angles and footwork that made her feel taller than she was. Hijitaka was slower, but his strikes had force.

Smokatsu held his ground with trained rhythm. The jitte was lighter than his old one. Less balanced. But it did the job. He blocked. Parried. Slid past a strike and countered with a clean tap to Hijitaka's shoulder.

They called a water break after ten minutes.

Dokon threw them canteens. "Not bad! Not bad! Honestly, if I weren't supervising so hard, I'd be down there showing you the Ancient Crane Wind Slice myself."

Beikyuu didn't even look up. "Your Crane Slice cracked a floorboard. And your toe."

"I was aiming for the spirit realm," Dokon defended.

Hijitaka turned to Smokatsu. "You fight well against sword users. You guys train for that in the Oniwabanshu?"

Smokatsu sipped his water. "Some. Mostly I used to hunt and capture pira– ronin. Learned a lot that way."

Beikyuu raised an eyebrow. "Ronin, huh? You get weird types?"

Smokatsu smirked before he could stop himself. "I knew one who fought with three swords."

Silence. Dokon dropped his squid. Beikyuu stared.

Hijitaka blinked. "Three?"

"Yeah." Smokatsu gestured vaguely.

Another pause.

"That's not real," said Beikyuu.

"It is."

Dokon stood. "That's the most batshit thing I've ever heard. And I once arrested a guy who trained racoons to steal hairpins."

"Where's the third sword go?" asked Hijitaka.

"Between the teeth."

"Wouldn't that break your jaw?"

"Maybe. Didn't stop him."

Dokon clapped his hands together. "Okay. Okay. We are officially cancelling today's lesson plan. Smokatsu – you're teaching us the forbidden technique."

Smokatsu stared at them, deadpan. "Absolutely not."

Hijitaka folded his arms. "If three's better than two, I want to know."

"It's not," Smokatsu said immediately. "He just thought it is."

Beikyuu had already picked up a stick with her teeth. She tried to go at Hijitaka with all three "swords" and immediately tripped over herself.

Dokon yelled "Unleash the Dragon Fang Spiral!" while Beikyuu rolled sideways into a bush.

Smokatsu sighed and picked up his jitte. Training resumed.

~*~

It started with a farmer. A little old woman with calloused hands and a furrowed brow who walked into Station 8 just before noon and said, plainly: "Someone's stealing my vegetables."

And suddenly B-Squad had a purpose.

"This is it," Dokon declared, slamming both palms on the table. "Our moment."

"Our moment to write a patrol log that doesn't smell like squid," Beikyuu muttered in a dreamy voice.

"We're not just patrol anymore. We're investigators. This is a case."

Hijitaka raised one eyebrow. "Of stolen... vegetables."

"Patterned agricultural theft!" Dokon said triumphantly.

The farmer wasn't the only one. Two neighbors had noticed the same thing. Vegetables. Gone. A sack at a time. Always at night. Every few days. They interviewed the locals, inspected footprints in the dirt, catalogued suspicious cabbage orientation. One farmer said he'd seen someone in the dark.

Dokon whipped out a brush and parchment with all the intensity of a courtroom artist. "Tell me everything."

Ten minutes later, he held up a sketch. Proud. Triumphant.

The farmer blinked. "Yeah… yeah, that's almost right. You got the eyes. And the hair. But the... the nose looks wrong."

Dokon nodded sagely. "Noses are hard."

Smokatsu looked at the sketch and squinted. Something about it felt familiar. The longer he looked, the more it started to resemble– No. Couldn't be.

Could it?

They returned to the station with a full investigation board: a map, two pins, and Dokon's slightly wrinkled suspect sketch labeled "Vegetable Bandit (Maybe a Ghost)."

They came up with the kind of plan you didn't need much brain to come up with: a night stakeout, two shifts. Smokatsu and Dokon would go first. Hijitaka and Beikyuu would relieve them halfway through.

Basic. Boring. But you'd think they were preparing to infiltrate Onigashima with how seriously B-Squad took it.

~*~

Night fell on the Flower Capital. Smokatsu found himself under a low tree on a grassy hill overlooking cabbage rows. His back was damp. His dignity was asleep in a locker back at the station.

Dokon flopped down next to him with a sigh, fumbled with his thermos, and immediately started talking.

"... and then Steve tells me they're maybe naming the baby Nagi. Cute, right? Simple. Good calligraphy balance. I told him to consider something stronger like Katanacho, but you know how his wife is..."

Smokatsu peered through his binoculars. No, he didn't know how Steve's wife was. 

He didn't respond. Not because he wasn't listening. But because if he said anything, Dokon might ask about him. And that would lead to lies. And Smokatsu had already told five different versions of his fake transfer paperwork story this week.

"So I said, Nagi's good, but what about Swordemon, right? You make it ironic. She'll grow into it."

Smokatsu didn't even blink. "You got any kids?"

Dokon paused. "Nope. But I want some. At least two. Maybe five. A full patrol unit. You?"

Smokatsu stayed silent for just long enough that Dokon resumed his talking. Another blessing.

He scanned the fields again. No movement. No suspicious activities. No sign of life. Well. Except for Dokon, who was now arguing with a moth.

When Beikyuu and Hijitaka showed up for the second shift, they found Smokatsu leaning against the tree, arms folded, dead-eyed. He handed off the binoculars. Nodded once. Walked into the darkness like he'd seen war, death, and more importantly – his limit.

Tomorrow, they'd check the sketch again. Smokatsu had a sinking feeling he knew exactly whose nose they'd gotten wrong.

~*~

Morning patrol brought bad news: More vegetables were missing. This time from market vendors. Half a dozen stalls reported cabbages, carrots, and onions vanishing during restock hours. No witnesses. No leads.

Coincidence? B-Squad did not think so.

"This is organized crime," Dokon muttered, tapping a brush against his sketchpad. "A multi-location agricultural heist."

Beikyuu raised an eyebrow. "It's a guy stealing turnips."

"From six different stalls! He's expanding! This is a supply chain invasion!"

Hijitaka sighed. "Should we check again for footprints?"

"I already started the new sketches," Dokon declared proudly, flipping his pad around.

Smokatsu nearly dropped his tea. There it was again. The same hat. The same face. The same tight black curls and stupidly thick eyelashes. And once again – blessedly – the nose was all wrong. Dokon had drawn it tiny and upturned this time, like it belonged to a very smug garden elf.

Smokatsu took a slow sip.

"Looks familiar?" Beikyuu asked.

Smokatsu's voice was perfectly flat. "No."

He waited for his break. Slipped away from the station. Blended into the afternoon crowds of Flower Capital – the music, the market calls, the smell of steamy dumplings – and scanned the stalls until he found him.

Usopp. Undercover as a merchant. Standing proudly behind a cart labeled "100% LEGITIMATE LOCAL PRODUCE – HEALTHY FOR BONES."

Smokatsu dragged him into an alley by the back of his shirt.

"Hey–! OW–!"

"Shut up."

Usopp blinked up at him, then paled. "Smoker?! I mean– Smokatsu?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Smoker hissed. "You're stealing vegetables?!"

Usopp held up both hands. "I'm running a business! This is entrepreneurship!"

"You're literally being investigated by the local authorities."

Usopp blinked. "Wait, you're the local authorities."

Smoker ignored that. "You're blowing your cover."

Usopp shrugged helplessly. "I needed inventory! You can't sell air!"

"You also can't sell other people's cabbage!"

"Well I'm not charging much!" Usopp paused. "Okay, I was overpricing the leeks. But still–!"

Smoker gritted his teeth. "You're lucky the investigation is being led by two idiots and a woman who once suggested gifting a wooden sword to a newborn."

Usopp perked up. "That's a great idea!"

"Focus." Smoker leaned in. "Be more careful. You don't want them connecting the dots. Or the curls."

Usopp touched his curls protectively. "They noticed?"

"Noticed enough."

Usopp sighed. "Fine. I'll... buy some vegetables. Or trade. Or something. Capitalism."

They parted ways at the edge of the alley. Usopp returned to his very legal business. Smokatsu returned to Station 8.

Dokon was updating the suspect board with a new note: Possible vegetable ninja?? Can't rule out teleportation.

Smokatsu sat at his desk, drank his lukewarm tea, and reminded himself that once upon a time he had been a Vice Admiral.

~*~

The vegetable thefts had stopped. No new reports. No new victims. Not even a suspicious footprint. The suspect board at Station 8 remained unchanged for five straight days. Dokon added a motivational note that read: Silence means the enemy fears us.

B-Squad spent most of their time reclining under the shade in the courtyard, sipping tea and pretending to review incident reports. Occasionally, someone flipped a coin to decide who was going to look like they were working.

Patrols were quiet. Unbearably quiet. Today was no exception. They walked the Flower Capital in lazy formation, waving to vendors, ignoring pigeons, and inventing hypothetical criminal scenarios out loud.

Smokatsu had just begun fantasizing about an actual crime – any crime – when Hijitaka clapped his hands together.

"Let's visit Steve."

Beikyuu nodded. "Yeah. We owe him a duck."

Smokatsu blinked. "What?"

"The plushie," Dokon said. "We picked it out last week. You were there."

"You made me carry it," Smokatsu remembered.

"Exactly!" Dokon grinned. "You're emotionally invested now. Come on."

"I don't even know Steve."

"We're on company time. You legally can't split off."

Smokatsu opened his mouth, paused, and realized: they were right.

~*~

Steve lived in a modest house just off the canal. He opened the door in loose robes, dark circles under his eyes, and the proudest smile Smokatsu had ever seen on a human being.

"B-Squad!" Steve beamed. "You came!"

Dokon tackled him in a hug. "How's fatherhood?! Is she talking? Walking? Wielding a blade yet?!"

Steve blinked. "She's three weeks old."

Beikyuu handed over the duck plushie. "For the heir."

Steve took it reverently. "She shall cherish it."

They introduced Smokatsu. Steve offered him tea like they were childhood friends. Then came the baby. Her name was Himawari. She had no teeth and a tuft of hair that refused to be smoothed down. Dokon took one look and got glassy-eyed.

"She's so small."

"You've seen her before," Hijitaka reminded him.

"But she's SMALL."

Steve offered her to Dokon, who held her like she was a sacred relic. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You are the future of Station 8."

Beikyuu wiped her eye and claimed it was dust. Smokatsu stood in the corner and tried not to look awkward. It didn't work. Himawari stared at him with terrifying baby intensity. He stared back.

Eventually, Himawari started squirming and Steve announced it was feeding time. They left with promises to visit again.

Back at Station 8, they wrote their patrol report.

Dokon scribbled: Area clear. No incidents. Morale boosted via duck-based engagement.

Smokatsu signed his name without reading the rest. Again.

~*~

Smokatsu had information. Not much – but enough. Patrol patterns. Station gossip. Confirmed sightings of certain government officials and market shifts. Things the Strawhats might need, especially now that tensions in the Flower Capital were rising. And Robin needed to hear it.

That was easier said than done.

Attempt One: During Patrol

The squad's route passed close to the tea house where Robin was staying. Second floor, quiet. She played her role as a geisha convincingly – a bit too convincingly. When the others stopped for grilled fish, Smokatsu slipped away. Climbed halfway up a wooden mast attached to the adjacent storehouse – close enough to jump to Robin's window.

He was this close.

"Oi."

He froze. Beikyuu stood below, arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"You trying to peep on a geisha?" she asked, deadpan.

Smokatsu opened his mouth. Closed it.

"… No?"

"Then why are you climbing to her second-story window?"

He stared. She stared back. He climbed down in silence.

Attempt Two: During Break Time

He waited for lunch. Went alone. Casual. Just a walk. Only to find Dokon sitting by the koi pond across from Robin's street, feeding the fish and eating dried sweet potatoes at the same time.

"Whatcha up to, Smokatsu?"

"... Nothing."

"Romantic visit, huh?" Dokon grinned. "Can't blame you. She's gorgeous. Beautiful eyes. Mysterious aura. Those geisha types always got a past."

Smokatsu walked away. Dokon waved after him.

Attempt Three: During Nightfall

It was late. Cool breeze. Clear sky. No way anyone would–

"Evening."

Hijitaka emerged from the shadows like an apparition. Sword sheathed, patrol lantern swinging from his hand.

Smokatsu stopped dead.

"… You're on night patrol?"

"Switched with Yuu."

They stared at each other. Neither moved. Smokatsu turned around.

~*~

By morning, it was over. The rumors had spread.

Beikyuu now referred to Robin as "Smokatsu's forbidden flower."

Hijitaka handed him a pamphlet titled "Proper Conduct for Courting Professionals."

Dokon offered heartfelt support and also a book of love haikus he had borrowed from Steve.

"You don't have to hide it, man," Dokon said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "She's a geisha, you're a samurai, society says no – but your heart says yes."

Smokatsu nearly strangled him. He still hadn't spoken to Robin. And now everyone thought he was in love.

He stared at his patrol log. He'd once led an entire base of marines. Now he was being emotionally blackmailed by a squad of overenthusiastic romantics. He needed a transfer. Or a drink. Maybe both.

~*~

The patrol was supposed to be quiet. They were halfway through the upper market when the shouting started – people yelling, a clatter of pottery, the sharp edge of fear in someone's voice.

"A robbery!" someone called. "Inside the apothecary!"

By the time they reached the building, a small crowd had formed, everyone pointing and whispering. The shop's front door hung half-open. Smokatsu stepped forward, instinctively ready to take the lead.

But Dokon was already moving. He didn't draw his sword. Just walked to the doorway, hand resting loosely on the hilt, and said calmly: "Hey. You're cornered. It's not too late to take the easy way out."

Smokatsu stiffened. "Dokon–"

But Beikyuu just raised a hand. "Let him."

Inside, the thief was barely more than a kid. Maybe late teens. Face gaunt. Breathing hard. A small pouch clutched in one hand – herbs, maybe medicine. And a knife in the other. He looked at Dokon, looked behind him, saw all four patrol members.

"Don't do this," Dokon said, voice level. "You'll only make it worse. Give it back. We'll sort it out."

It was a way out. An escape without shame. The kid could've taken it. But instead – he ran straight for the door. Straight for Dokon.

There was a flash of steel. Smokatsu's jitte was halfway raised when Dokon moved.

No hesitation. Just a clean, hard tackle that sent both of them crashing to the floor. They struggled – the kid thrashing, panicked – and then Dokon grunted, pinned him, and twisted the knife from his hand.

Smokatsu kicked it aside. Hijitaka moved in to cuff the kid. Beikyuu dropped to Dokon's side – and Smokatsu saw it.

The blood. Red against blue cloth.

"Shit– hold still," Beikyuu snapped, already tearing a strip from her sleeve.

The wound was deep. Left side, under the ribs. No sign of bubbling – it hadn't punctured a lung – but it was bleeding fast.

"You idiot," Smokatsu hissed and pressed a hand to the wound to stem the bleeding. "Why didn't you draw your sword?"

Dokon's jaw clenched. His face was pale, but his voice was steady.

"Because if you draw your sword... you have to be ready to use it. You have to be ready to take a life."

He winced and let out a dry chuckle. "And I never really could do that."

The silence stretched. Smokatsu stared at him. All this time, he'd thought of Dokon as a joke – loud, lazy, ridiculous. But this?

He hadn't been afraid to fight. He'd just chosen not to kill – even when it meant to get himself injured. That took more control than most soldiers Smokatsu had ever served with.

Beikyuu cinched the makeshift bandage tight. "We need a doctor. Now."

"I'll take him," Smokatsu said, already moving to help Dokon up.

"I'll bring the thief back to the station," Hijitaka added, nodding once.

Smokatsu had gotten Dokon wrong. Gotten all of them wrong, maybe. Because it took something rare to stand where Dokon had stood, unarmed by choice, because he didn't want to kill. Not because he was weak – because he actually meant it.

Smokatsu wasn't a swordsman. But he recognized the code of bushido when he saw it. And in Wano, with its crumbling loyalties and corrupted blades, there weren't many left who still lived by it. People like Dokon didn't get remembered. They got killed. But maybe – maybe Station 8 wasn't so average after all.

~*~

The doctor said he'd be fine. No organs punctured. The bleeding had looked worse than it was. A few more inches and it would've been different – but it wasn't. So Dokon was going to be fine.

Still, Smokatsu had come to check in. Hijitaka and Beikyuu were already there, sitting on the edge of the futon. Someone had brought sweet buns. The room smelled like antiseptic and bad tea.

Dokon grinned like he was hosting a party. "Guess I'm on desk duty for a while," he said, gesturing dramatically to his bandaged side. "Think they'll let me draw suspects from memory again?"

Beikyuu groaned. "Only if we want to arrest half the city."

"Hey! They said I got the curls right every single time!"

Hijitaka silently passed him a peeled orange. Dokon accepted it like it was a medal.

Then the door slid open – and in came Steve.

"Special delivery," he said, holding a bento in one hand and a very small baby in the other. Himawari made a soft noise that could've meant anything.

Dokon's eyes went wide. "You brought the heir."

"She demanded it."

He passed over the bento, then sat cross-legged on the side of the futon. Himawari immediately grabbed a corner of Dokon's sleeve and tried to chew it.

"She likes you," Steve said, proud.

Smokatsu sat in the back, arms crossed, watching this mess of people and snacks and a very determined infant. No one had asked him to come. He could've walked away. Should've, probably. But he didn't. He stayed. And when Dokon caught his eye and grinned – Smokatsu nodded back.

They weren't grand warriors, most of them. Not legends. Just people. But they looked after each other.

~*~

It was unusual for Dokon to summon only him. Normally, when there were orders or new assignments, he called the entire squad in with great fanfare and far too much backstory. But this time, a runner came to Smokatsu alone.

He found Dokon at his desk – robe neat, bandages poking out from underneath. A fresh cup of tea steamed beside him. He looked up with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey, Smokatsu. Got something for you."

No "squad meeting." No jokes.

Just a thin folder, and a slip of official orders. Smokatsu frowned. Dokon slid a wanted poster across the table. The face staring back at him was familiar. Green hair. One eye.

Zoro.

"New bounty came in this morning," Dokon said, tone carefully neutral. "This ronin's been spotted in the nearby provinces. They say he's dangerous. Has a body count."

Smokatsu stared at the paper. His stomach sank. Well. There went that cover.

He glanced up. "You sure this is from command?"

"Stamped and signed." Dokon leaned back. "They asked for Station 8 because of how well we handled that apothecary incident. You're up."

Smokatsu nodded once. He couldn't say no. Couldn't risk someone else getting to Zoro first.

Dokon handed him a pouch of travel funds and leaned his elbows on the desk.

"Be safe, yeah?"

Smokatsu paused. "… I will."

~*~

The next morning, the others saw him off in the courtyard. Beikyuu handed him a badly folded map with "Ronin?" scrawled in three places.

Hijitaka gave him spare leather strips. "In case the jitte handle gets too worn down."

And Dokon… Dokon handed him a paper-wrapped parcel. "For the road."

Smokatsu opened it to find strips of dried squid and a handwritten note that just said "Remember the apothecary. We win quietly." He tucked it away without a word.

They clapped him on the back, called him a weirdo, and told him not to flirt with any geisha this time. 

And then he walked away. They didn't know it was goodbye. But Smokatsu did. He didn't look back.

Chapter Text

Why did we plan anything at all

Of course as soon as the Strawhat showed up everything went to shit. Who would have thought.

Smoker shook his head in disbelief. Next time he would get a bet going for sure.

After having more or less unsuccessfully tried to track down Zorojuro, the wanted ronin, Smoker had ended up in some kind of snowy graveyard before he found his way back to the Flower Capital. Robin had found him wandering one of the streets and brought him to where she had been meeting with Franky and Usopp, reading the special edition newspaper.

Luffy really had fought with Kaido – not even a day after arriving in Wano – and was now imprisoned in the mines of Udon.

Now, a day later, they were sitting around Sanji's soba stand, planning their next moves while eating soba.

"Wasn't the plan to recruit more allies with this?" Smoker huffed, glancing over at Sanji happily serving bowls full of steaming food to the women surrounding the stand.

Franky hummed while slurping up some noodles. "Yeah it was. Yo Sangoro, how about you cook something that fits to sake so we can get some samurai to come here?"

Sanji's mood changed instantly and he shot them all a withering glare.

"Or not I guess," Franky said, lifting a hand to calm the cook down.

Smoker sighed, taking a drag from his pipe. "And Luffy is still in Udon," he mused while exhaling a plume of smoke.

"He'll be out before our plan begins," Usopp said, smiling proudly.

Robin nodded. "That's right. We should focus more on our own mission."

Just as Smoker opened his mouth, all of their attention was caught by the murmurs of the crowd. Following their worried looks down the road, Smoker could make out three large men making their way towards them.

Although their plan was to get more support, those three samurai didn't look like possible allies. No, Smoker had seen enough criminals and pirates to know the look on their faces. Low level thugs who thought the name of their superior would let them do as they pleased.

He put a hand on his jitte, watching them approach. 

"Yo, look what we have here. Do you even have permission to have this stand here?" the middle one taunted, looking down at Sanji. 

Another one pitched in. "Yeah, this is Kyoshiro territory so you have to pay if you want to sell your food here."

Sanji answered calmly, eyes on the bowl he'd just finished preparing. "If you three want some as well I'd ask you to get in line. These ladies have been waiting patiently after all."

The three samurai scoffed as Sanji walked around his stand to hand the bowl to a young girl with pink hair and a large smile on her face. The girl happily took the bowl, unaware of the threat looming above her.

"How dare you, you lowly soba cook!" one of the samurai cried as he smashed the soba stand to pieces, scattering the noodles Sanji had been cooking all over the ground. The women who'd been surrounding them until now began to run.

At the same time one of the other two took a swing at the girl, hitting her bowl out of her hands. She kept laughing however, even as tears began pooling in her eyes.

Smoker stood, but Robin grabbed his sleeve, shaking her head. 

"If you spill the food–" Sanji said, voice low and eyes focused on his three opponents, "– then you have to eat it!"

"As if, who'd want to eat that! That's what you get for messing with us!" the samurai taunted, cackling between themselves.

And within a split second Sanji kicked him in the guts, catapulting him across the street. 

Robin sighed as she let go of Smoker's arm. "I think we should go," she said, Usopp nodding with a mouthful of noodles.

As soon as she and Usopp left to take cover in a side street, Smoker went and confronted another of the samurai who was still staring at Sanji in shock.

Franky grinned as he smashed his fists together. "So we're fighting now?"

"In the name of Mimawarigumi Station 8 you are hereby under arrest for endangering civilians," Smoker said before bringing his jitte down on the samurai without hesitation. He barely blocked it with his sword, but wasn't nearly fast enough for the next hit. With one swift move, Smoker stepped around the samurai, trapping his katana with the hook of his jitte before punching him square in the face, sending him flying.

Franky, in the meantime, had punched the other samurai up into the air, jumped after him and proceeded to ram his head into the ground with a suplex.

The last samurai that Sanji had kicked watched with wide eyes before scrambling off, shouting something about reporting this. Smoker scoffed before he and Franky began tying up the two almost unconscious samurai.

Sanji then proceeded to torture the two with noodles. Smoker once again internally reiterated that cooks should never be pissed off. Satisfied with his revenge, Sanji stood up, eyes falling on the small girl from before.

"You can come out now. I'll make you another bowl," Sanji said, giving the kid a smile.

Usopp and Robin came back as well, looking at the chaos and their hostages and the destroyed soba stand.

Smoker watched as Sanji gave the girl a new bowl, who took it with a big smile. He couldn't shake the feeling there was something odd about it.

The little girl introduced herself as Toko, making a joke about her name and laughing all the while. Even Robin and Sanji had to laugh about it. Toko then excused herself after finishing the noodles as she was already late for her job as a kamuro of the Oiran Komurasaki.

Suddenly a small old lady jumped out of nowhere and began playing on her instrument while explaining the Oiran to Franky, Sanji and Usopp.

Smoker rolled his eyes at both the grandma – who apparently was the woman Robin worked for – as well as Sanji's reaction to her tales. 

The old lady plucked a few strings on the instrument. "Oh and Orobi, I have to congratulate you!"

Robin looked at her in surprise. "Oh? Why is–"

The grandma broke her off as she threw a handful of cherry leaves in the air. "Your hard work paid off, because the shogun himself has requested your presence at his banquet this evening!"

This caught everyone's attention. Smoker glanced over at Robin. This was their chance to finally get close to the shogun and gather valuable information. Robin caught his eye, nodding slightly.

She then turned to her employer. "I'm honored. May I request one small favour, though?"

The old woman hummed, raising an eyebrow and gesturing for Robin to continue.

"I'd like to have Smokatsu as my bodyguard. He works for the local law enforcement. I have heard that recently there have been a lot of murders at night and then there's this thief…" Robin spoke, her eyes downcast and a hand covering her mouth. Smoker had to hand it to her, she was a talented actress, convincingly playing her role as a scared woman.

"Hmmmmmm," the old lady said, putting a hand on her chin. Then she looked at Smoker, her piercing eyes boring holes into him. "So you're an officer?"

"Mimawarigumi Station 8, Officer Smokatsu," he replied confidently, pulling out his badge and showing it to her.

With a nod, the old lady agreed before whisking Robin away so she could get ready for the evening.

— at the shogun's banquet that evening —

Smoker stood outside the banquet room, quietly observing the men drinking themselves stupid while the geishas entertained them. Robin stood at the door, handling two slightly tipsy men, keeping a low profile.  

And the shogun sat in the middle of it all, surrounded by sake and women, cheering and inflating his own ego.

What a disgusting man. Smoker had no reason to doubt that this man came to power via a rigged game, set up by someone far smarter than himself. Possibly Kaido even.

As the evening went on and more and more people drowned themselves in alcohol, Robin began making a move. She caught Smoker's eye and nodded before making her way down one of the corridors. A few minutes later Smoker followed suit, using an adjacent path and pretending to do a perimeter patrol.

The corridor ended at a room, the door slightly ajar, so Smoker sent a small wisp of smoke across the wooden floor while keeping himself hidden. As expected, Robin was inside, inspecting something that Smoker couldn't quite see in the dark.

It was hard enough already to turn his eye into smoke and have it reappear along his smoke wisp. Fists and limbs were easy, but the eye required more focus, not to speak of the weird sensation of watching two different scenes with each eye.

Then they heard a voice, Robin behind her and Smoker muffled through the door between them. She had been spotted. 

Shit.

Smoker let his little smoke tendril curl around the door and along the inside wall, trying to get a better look. Ninjas. They filled the room, surrounding Robin on all sides. Then she tried to flee, running towards the door, but a metal clamp caught her by the throat. She looked at Smoker's tendril, giving him a quick smile before her face distorted in pain again. 

Of course she'd do that. Smoker had to stifle a grin, realizing that Robin was playing the ninjas for fools as her body dissolved into petals. 

The ninjas, now on high alert, scattered to look through the mansion, trying to find Robin. Smoker, as quietly as he could, continued his perimeter sweep at a moderate pace. 

"Can you hear me?" came a muffled voice and Smoker pulled out the tiny tanishi snail. 

"Robin, are you okay?" Nami's voice came next, audibly worried. 

Robin answered, a little out of breath. "Yes, I'm alright. I've been spotted though and–"

Her connection broke off.

Smoker looked around, trying to see if it was safe to speak or not. Those ninjas could be anywhere. 

Nami beat him to it though. "Smoker, Brook, go find Robin, make sure she's safe."

"Already on it, stay safe as well," Smoker answered before turning the snail off and putting it away.

Now where would Robin go…

She wouldn't leave the mansion – too risky since that's where her pursuers would look first. No, she would play it safe, go somewhere where she can blend in. 

The banquet!

It was the safest possibility, so Smoker continued on his path, looping around the banquet hall once before reaching the garden in front of the open doors of the room. And there, right next to Orochi, was Robin.

Smoker exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He'd much rather have her somewhere else than next to that disgusting creature calling himself the shogun, with his stupid little crown and oversized head.

But this way she also had the perfect opportunity to get valuable information directly from the drunk source. Smoker just had to trust that she knew what she was doing. Though if he trusted anyone in the Strawhat crew to do that it would be Robin.

Orochi's grating voice rang through the halls as he began complaining about this so-called prophecy – the return of the nine scabbards and his potential downfall. Smoker rolled his eyes.

The other guests were just as enthused about it as Smoker, mumbling and whispering to each other behind their hands as they gave the shogun sidelong glances.  

As Orochi continued, even more riled up due to Kyoshiro's teasing, more and more people had to stifle a laugh. It was an impressive view, Smoker had to admit. So many drunk men and yet they were still able to keep it together. 

A high pitched laugh emerged from the back. A familiar laugh to Smoker and Robin too, her eyes quickly falling on Toko, the small girl from the soba stand.

Everyone had gone quiet, eyes wide in shock. Even Orochi had stopped mid rant, mouth hanging open, rage flaring in his eyes.

This wasn't good. Smoker wouldn't be able to reach her in time as Orochi began to pursue the kid.

Stop laughing, damnit!

With a swift move – unusually fast for a man of Orochi's size – the shogun grabbed Toko by the throat, lifting her up. She still laughed, yet her eyes were wide with fear.

Smoker had his hand on his jitte. Screw the mission if it meant saving Toko's life. From the corner of his eye he could see Robin moving in as well.

Yet, before either of them managed to get close, a loud smack echoed through the room. Orochi stumbled and let Toko fall to the floor. Komurasaki had beaten them to the punch. Or slap, in this case. 

She was a brave woman, Smoker had to hand it to her. Maybe he should introduce her to Nami after all this. 

His thoughts were interrupted, however, when Orochi raised his voice once more in rage. Then the room began to shake, Smoker could feel the vibrations even outside of it. They all watched as Orochi began to change.

His guests stared in horror as his form shifted and grew, forming claws and fangs. His neck extended and seven more began to grow behind it. Now, instead of an ugly man, Komurasaki faced an eight-headed creature, even uglier than before. 

And as if it couldn't get any worse, the ninjas showed up too and while everyone was busy running from the rampaging Orochi, they surrounded Robin once more. She was holding Toko in her arms, the kid crying but laughing.

She glanced over at Smoker and, with a swift move, threw Toko towards the garden and in his direction. 

Smoker barely caught the kid as she desperately clung to his sleeve. "I know I shouldn't laugh, but I can't–" her voice was interrupted by a chuckle.

"It's alright kid, we got a different problem to deal with right now," Smoker tried to calm her as some of the ninjas began cornering him as well.

From around the corner came two more ninjas, their faces filled with fear. Cold air followed them.

Then, a hand. Green, glowing and definitely ghostly.

" Cuuuuursed be youuuu ," Brook howled, twisting his skeletal face upside down and letting it snap back with a bone-chilling rattle.

Toko passed out. The ninjas screamed. Nami and Shinobu fell through the ceiling right in front of Orochi. Smoker had no idea what the hell he was supposed to react to first.

But he hadn't become a Vice Admiral if Smoker couldn't keep a clear head during this sort of chaos. When Robin pushed away the leftover ninjas, Smoker dissolved into a smoke cloud, keeping Toko hidden within it. Then he branched out, creating a thick screen between Robin and her enemies.

Nami had summoned a talking cloud somehow – seriously, where the hell do you get a talking cloud – and proceeded to shock Orochi with a lightning strike, incapacitating the eight-headed nightmare.

"Onami, Shinobu, over here!" Robin called out, waving them inside the smoke cloud that was slowly forming around her.

Smoker closed the screen, essentially trapping the women within, but keeping them away from outside eyes. 

"Alright, let's get out of here!" Shinobu called out, unveiling some sort of large kite from who knew where and Smoker sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

Robin and Nami grabbed onto it and Smoker used his devil fruit to push it up into the air while keeping it out of view from below.

Once they were far enough away above the Flower Capital, Smoker turned his upper body back, keeping his lower body as smoke, flying next to the kite.

Nami looked over to him, grinning proudly. "Well, that could have gone worse. Thanks for the smoke jutsu, by the way."

Smoker just gave her a flat look and sighed.

Of Eggs and Smoked Chicken

Smoker was walking through the Flower City, his steps heavy and his mind focused. They had just escaped the mansion when he'd spotted a familiar shape from up above. Handing Toko over to Robin, he excused himself and flew down towards the city in an attempt to investigate. 

Broken buildings were scattered throughout this part of town – a recent addition since just earlier today Smoker had walked these streets with the others. 

He rounded another corner and had to quickly slip back behind the building. Slowly and ever so carefully he glanced around his cover. So he had seen correctly, then.

A bit further down the road, amidst some rubble, stood a familiar redhead with a strange mask and an x-shaped scar on his chin.

You've got to be kidding me .

Smoker took another look around to see if there were any other people nearby. Notably the ones responsible for the damage. 

Deeming the air clear enough, Smoker stepped out from behind the cover. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Eggs himself."

Drake whirled around, eyes wide and a haunted look on his face. Then he saw Smoker. "Oh no. No no no no no no double cross no!"

Smoker chuckled. "Aw come on, haven't seen you in ages and this is how you greet me? I am wounded ."

Drake heaved a sigh. "Why are you here, Smoker?" 

"To visit a friend?" Smoker tried, feigning innocence.

Drake gave him a flat look. "Yeah no. Try again."

"Fine. Same reason as you. I'm undercover as a pirate."

Drake's eyes widened. He looked around, then grabbed Smoker's sleeve and dragged him off to a more secure location in a small alley. "You can't just say that," he hissed.

Smoker shrugged. "Eh, it won't matter soon anyway."

"What do you mean?" Drake asked, crossing his arms.

Smoker cleared his voice. "Well, since you are here, running around in your usual clothes, I'm guessing you are working for one of the known pirate crews here. Which are all under Kaido's command. And I'm sure by now you know who's after Kaido."

"The Strawhat. Yeah, we know. Hawkins saw him a few days ago. But he's imprisoned in Udon, there's no way he'll ever get to Kaido, much less defeat him," Drake replied, his eyes sharp but his voice tired.

Smoker chuckled. "You think that's gonna stop him?"

"You think it wont?" Drake raised an eyebrow.

Smoker waved his hand dismissively. "He's Luffy, he got this." 

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Fine."

"Good."

"And what the hell does that have to do with you?" Drake asked, pointing a finger at Smoker's chest.

Smoker grinned at him. "I'm in the Strawhat's crew. Fujitora assigned me to your SWORD unit, or whatever it's called."

"I'm the captain of SWORD. Why did nobody think to inform me of this??" Drake sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's only been like… a few weeks at best. I'm sure the others were busy," Smoker guessed, putting a hand on his chin.

Drake closed his eyes, processing this, before his eyes slowly began to light up. 

Smoker took a step back. "Oh no. Eggs no."

A grin creeped onto Drake's face as he looked at Smoker. "SWORD is my unit. Meaning that I am your superior now."

Smoker blinked. Then he groaned, pulling both hands down his face. "Ah shit ."

Drake had to hide his face behind his hand, biting onto his knuckles to stop himself from laughing out loud.

"Stop laughing, Eggs!" Smoker hissed, poking the other man in the shoulder.

Drake chuckled, "You didn't really think that one through, did you? Some things never change."

Smoker gave him a flat look, though the hint of a smile was still present. "I hate you."

Drake huffed good naturedly. "I know. So what's the Strawhat like? I've heard a lot about him."

Smoker sighed deeply, his suffering palpable. "He's the reason I can neither be on deck nor below, because I will either throw myself overboard or shove my head through the nearest wall."

Drake balked at him. "... Sounds fun I guess?"

Smoker's face lit up again. "Oh yeah it is."

"I'm worried for your sanity," Drake replied.

After a moment, Smoker asked: "So what are you gonna do now?" 

Drake pondered this for a moment. "I still have my orders and a role to play. Until your captain manages to beat Kaido, I'll have to fight for the Beast pirates."

Smoker huffed. "And I was hoping to get you to switch sides."

"As if. I've been playing this game for far longer than you, Smoker."

"Fair enough, nerd . I'll see you in Onigashima then?" Smoker asked, holding a fist towards Drake.

Drake bumped his fist against Smoker's with a small smile. "See you in Onigashima. And it was good to see you again."

"Same to you." Smoker replied before dissolving into a white cloud and disappearing down the road, leaving Drake alone in the alley.

Reunions and Bad News

— somewhere in the northern cemetery of Ringo —

Snow gently fell on the graveyard they had chosen to hide in after escaping from the Flower Capital, following their more or less successful mission.

Now, however, Smoker had been left alone with Brook, since the women left to visit a bathhouse and Kanjuro was off to Ebisu town to find the rest of his samurai group.

They'd gone outside to see if they could find any useful equipment, namely weapons and tools, as Kanjuro had told them this graveyard once used to house a plethora of samurai graves – including their swords.

Smoker wasn't one for graverobbing, or as Robin called it, gathering archeological evidence . However, if they wanted to defeat Kaido they'd need every sword they could get.

Trudging through the thick snow after an unsuccessful patrol around the western side of the area, Brook and Smoker had decided to return to their current hideout, a rundown house near a bridge.

"Do you think Robin and Nami have returned already?" the skeleton mused, tapping a finger on his bony chin.

Smoker briefly looked over at him. "No, probably not. Unless they–" he stopped mid sentence.

There was a faint smell in the air, a hint of cooked food and smoke. Brook stopped walking when he noticed Smoker had fallen behind. "Something wrong, Smoker?"

"Someone's using our hideout," he replied, his hand loosely laying on the grip of his jitte.

If Brook had eyebrows he would have raised them as he looked over to the house they'd been staying in. "Maybe they did come back early? Or Kanjuro returned."

Smoker took a drag from his pipe, eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe, maybe not. Just be prepared to run or fight."

With a nod Brook continued forward, Smoker right behind him, scanning the surrounding area for potential traps or ambushes.

Brook opened the door and froze in place, his jaw almost literally falling off. Smoker raised an eyebrow, looking over to see what had Brook so shocked.

There, sprawled out on the floor, was Zoro, snoring away together with Komurasaki cuddled to his one side, and Toko with her head on his stomach on the other.

Brook began to stammer and excuse himself, waking up Zoro in the process, who was apparently as surprised by his cuddle company as Smoker and Brook.

Smoker heaved a sigh, dragging Brook back inside after he tried to extract himself from the situation, having thought something was going on that wasn't.

"Oi, it's not what it looks like!" Zoro protested.

Smoker gave him a flat look. "I know you have a different preference, so don't worry about it. Brook is just old fashioned."

They all went quiet as Komurasaki began waking up and Smoker had to hit the skeleton over the head when he asked his trademark question. Really, what's with the Strawhat men and their weird obsession with women? Oh, and Nami, she's almost as bad, though she at least had some manners. Really, besides Smoker, Zoro was the only normal one in that regard. Luffy didn't count, he's Luffy and he only loved food.

Toko was also stirring, however she immediately began screaming upon seeing a living corpse in front of her. Smoker couldn't blame the kid.

After de-escalating the situation and starting a fire with more food, Zoro filled them in on what he'd been up to.

Brook was still not quite accepting the fact that Zoro had no interest in Komurasaki – who was actually Hyori, the younger sister of Momonosuke. And she, too, had some loose screws. 

"So you escaped after Kyoshiro faked your death?" Smoker asked, trying to get the topic away from whatever that was before.

Hyori looked over at him. "Yes, exactly. But then me and Toko were chased by an assassin until Zorojuro saved us." 

"The shogun still believes you are dead, he's going to broadcast your funeral today. They also caught the thief, Ushimitsu Kozo, and plan to execute him then too," Brook hummed, eyes downcast as he pulled out the newspaper he'd collected.

Smoker crossed his arms. "The thief is apparently a man called Tonoyasu–"

Zoro's head snapped over at him. "TONOYASU? From Ebisu town?"

"Yes, do you know him?" Smoker asked, eyes narrowing. 

When Zoro tried to answer he was drowned out by a screech. The next moment, Toko ran out of the house, screaming and laughing at the same time. 

Hyori stood, thanking Zoro for protecting her before going after Toko. Zoro ran after her with Smoker and Brook hot on his heels.

Zoro was first to catch up with the girl, grabbing her by the arm as she struggled to break free. "Oi, stop it, what's wrong?"

Toko had tears in her eyes as she laughed and laughed. "Please let me go! He's going to die, please!"

Smoker, having caught up alongside the others, watched as Toko desperately tried to get out of Zoro's grip.

She laughed even now, yet her eyes were wild and panicked, tears streaming down her face. "HE'S MY PAPA!"

Chapter Text

Aftermaths of Injustice

They had escaped the Flower Capital once again, this time to a forest area where an old man with a tengu mask lived. Smoker sat on a mossy rock near the cliffs, smoking two cigars. After what he'd seen and heard he needed them.

After Toko had told them about her father, they had wordlessly decided to save him from his upcoming execution. Yet, they arrived too late. Oroshi and his men had mercilessly shot Tonoyasu – or rather Yasuie – in front of hundreds of people, including his own daughter.

And the worst part, the thing that made Smoker's blood boil? She couldn't even mourn him properly.

Because Oroshi – that piece of shit shogun – had decided to feed the poor and starving people of Ebisu town the leftover Smile fruits. He had consciously robbed innocent people of their emotions, leaving them laughing on the outside, but dying on the inside.

Smoker balled his hands into fists, his fingers digging into the flesh of his palms, knuckles white as his smoke.

In that moment, as Toko was forced to laugh while clutching her fathers body, he had sworn he'd kill Orochi and every single Beast pirate responsible. Kaido especially.

The crunching of leaves made Smoker glance behind him. 

"Ah, there you are. I'm supposed to tell you that Sanji made food," Usopp called out to him.

Smoker huffed, turning back to watch the horizon, the smoke of his cigars floating upwards, coiling and twisting unnaturally into itself.

Usopp shrugged and began walking back, message delivered, when Smoker responded. "How many people?"

The sniper turned around, looking at Smoker, confused. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"How many people have you seen suffering while sailing with Luffy?" Smoker asked again, exhaling a plume of thick, dark smoke.

Usopp regarded Smoker for a moment before his gaze fell down to the ground. "Too many. We've seen suffering on almost every island we've been to. Even back in the East Blue. Nami's village, my village…" he trailed off.

Smoker bit on his cigars. All of those islands the Strawhat had gone to were marine territory. And they would have continued to suffer if it hadn't been for Luffy and his friends. What the hell was the upper marine brass and the world government even doing, what could be so important that they didn't even make sure their subjects were living peacefully?

Smoker sighed deeply. "Do you think you wouldn't have become pirates if the marines had helped you?"

"Maybe." Usopp cleared his voice. "Don't take it the wrong way. The marines suck, we know, but that doesn't mean there aren't good people there too."

Smoker glanced over at the sniper, who for once was holding his gaze without wavering.

"And besides," he continued, "Luffy will fix this. We will fix this. That's what we've always done, after all." Usopp gave him a confident smile and thumbs up before walking off, mumbling about food getting cold.

Smoker sat for a little while longer, watching the light smoke from cigars float up and away into the sky. Smoke was always there when something burned. A warning that change was happening right there, at its source. The fires were already burning in this world, but the government ignored them, shoved them away with lies.

But not anymore. It was time to send the government a message they couldn't ignore, couldn't cover up, because the smoke would find a way.

With another exhale Smoker stood and turned, walking to where the rest of the crew was already eating and planning their next moves.

Could People please stop breaking the Jitte?

Smoker sat on a rock near the shore, having just finished a short sparring match with Zoro. No words were exchanged, only slashes and strikes. Afterwards they shared a bottle of sake while cleaning their respective weapons. 

Zoro's new sword was a force to be reckoned with that Smoker had struggled to fight against. And, looking at the sweat that had poured down Zoro's face, he had just as much trouble controlling it.

"And you're sure you can handle that sword?" Smoker asked, looking over to where Zoro was polishing Enma's blade.

"I think so. Only need a little more training," he answered, grinning proudly at his newest weapon. 

Smoker exhaled a plume of smoke. "Good, because I don't know how long my jitte can hold up against it."

He looked down at his weapon, covered in scratches and cuts. It wasn't made for this level of power. After all, it was just a regular jitte made for regular people. Not whatever monsters they had to fight or had become themselves.

Zoro glanced over at him, then at the jitte and then his own sword. "You should go to the masked guy that gave me Enma. He said he's a good swordsmith, maybe he can fix it for you."

Smoker raised his eyebrows at Zoro. "You mean Tenguyama? Could be worth a shot, even if it's not a sword."

He turned the jitte in his hand, looking at the worn handle. If they were going up against Kaido he'd need a weapon he could rely on. One that wouldn't break that easily. And preferably with a seastone tip, like his old one. It had come in handy in more than a couple of situations.

Tucking the jitte away Smoker stood, gave a nod to Zoro and left towards the shrine that Tenguyama had made his home. 

He passed by Chopper and Franky digging through a pile of samurai armor and saw Nami and Robin making plans while looking over a map.

Tenguyama was sitting on a branch in front of the shrine, polishing his own blade with the unusually shaped guard. He looked up as Smoker approached, lowering his blade.

Smoker cleared his voice. "Zoro said you are a swordsmith. Is that true?"

"That is correct, though it is more a hobby of mine that I haven't indulged in for quite some time," the older man said, sheathing his sword. 

Smoker pulled out his jitte and held it in front of him. "Would you be able to fix this? It doesn't have to be good, just enough to survive Onigashima."

"A jitte? An unusual weapon of choice," Tenguyama said, his voice holding a hint of curiosity. He took the jitte and began to examine it.

"I've always used one, usually with seastone coating at the tip. People just keep breaking them for no reason," Smoker explained.

Tenguyama nodded and stood up. "Come with me."

They walked towards the shrine, but took a detour just before the entrance, following a small winding path down to the ruins of the village. Tenguyama stopped near a rundown shack, pulling out a small rusty key.

"Though I haven't used it much, I tried to keep the forge in good shape and collected materials when I found some. I mostly needed it to repair the shrine and my tools," he said as he opened the door, hinges creaking with disuse.

The forge was in a more or less usable state. Tools and other metal objects were piled in all corners, an old anvil standing nearby with an array of hammers hanging off of it.

Tenguyama began rifling through a pile of metal parts, mumbling to himself. "I should have some seastone here somewhere. And where did I put that steel rod?"

Then, a bit louder, he called out to Smoker. "Would you mind making some space near the anvil? We'll need it."

While the old man was busy, Smoker walked further into the small forge, stepping over more stuff strewn across the floor. It took a couple of minutes until Smoker had cleared out as much room as possible, while Tenguyama kept on bringing more and more pieces of metal and some seastone nails he'd gotten from who knows where. The two worked in efficient silence, getting a fire going and preparing materials, cleaning hammer and anvil.

Tenguyama brought out the jitte and laid it out on the anvil, the leather strips from the handle hanging loosely down the sides.

"We should be able to fix it, but we also have enough material to make a brand new one," the swordsmith mused.

Smoker let his fingers glide over the scratches of his old weapon. He had come to like the little thing, it reminded him of his first jitte he had used back in Loguetown. But he had gotten so used to the large jitte that Vergo had broken on Punk Hazard. It had been a gift from Tashigi after his promotion to Vice Admiral.

Smoker sighed. "A new one would be nice. This one is a bit too small for my usual fighting style." 

Tenguyama nodded, pulling out a long iron rod. "I'm guessing a nanashaku jitte?"

Smoker looked at him with surprise. "How did you know?"

Tenguyama laughed quietly. "Just a lucky guess."

With that, the two got to work, heating metal in the fire and forming it on the anvil. Tenguyama explained how the metal shifted and formed with different temperatures, how the glow of the metal could tell the swordsmith when it was ready and how to infuse and strengthen it with ash.

Smoker didn't quite understand, but followed Tenguyama's instructions as best he could. He could feel the heat ripple off the metal, how it surged every time he swung the hammer down. At one point he tried touching the metal with his smoke, feeling the heat transfer over, trying to shape and balance it. Tenguyama had watched with awe as Smoker used his own smoke to infuse the metal with ash. It felt like Smoker was forging a piece of himself into the weapon.

They worked away until late into the night, taking shifts during the process, and Smoker had gotten better and better with each round. At some point Robin had stopped by to bring them dinner and drinks, reminding both to not overwork themselves.

Tenguyama had to work with the seastone since Smoker was unable to do that part due to his devil fruit. Instead, he began working on the new cover for the handle. Tenguyama had insisted on giving it a guard similar to that of Katanas. Not quite Smoker's style, but he saw the appeal. 

It was early morning of the next day when they finished. Smoker lifted the new jitte, feeling its weight and balance. It was perfect.

Tenguyama nodded in approval. "An impressive weapon. It might rival some of the best swords even. Though I cannot guarantee it won't break again, I think you'll be more than capable of fixing it."

"It feels good to wield," Smoker answered, eyes still fixed on the light-gray jitte. Its handle was made of leather covered in white cloth strips, the small guard a darker silver color with a cloud design.

"You should go test it out later today. I want to see how you wield it," the old man said and Smoker nodded, finally taking his gaze off it as he slung it over his shoulder.

— during the afternoon on the same day —

The air was shifting and swirling around Zoro and Smoker as they exchanged blows. Blade clashed with jitte, sparks flying when they hit just the right angle.

Smoker grinned and Zoro matched his expression, adrenaline rushing through their veins. It may have started out as an easy sparring match, but the longer they fought, the harder the blows became.

They didn't fight quite seriously, making spins and parades, leaving the other some room and time to experiment with their respective new weapons.

Zoro swung Enma in a wide circle, letting its weight pull him with it before Smoker blocked it, both hands holding the jitte. Smoker turned his hands, sliding the hook between Zoro and his blade and, with a swift move, slammed the blade into the ground, throwing Zoro out of his stance. The swordsman pulled back, twirling Enma in his hand before getting ready to defend himself against Smoker's next swing.

With a sharp clang Enma deflected the hit sideways, giving Zoro an opening to shoulder tackle Smoker.

They had attracted quite the crowd now. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper had begun cheering them on while Franky and Brook had started setting up a betting pool.

Zoro and Smoker didn't notice any of it as they kept attacking and defending. When Zoro took another horizontal swing at Smoker, the marine parted his body and retaliated with a hit from above that Zoro narrowly escaped by jumping to the side. 

"Cheater," Zoro huffed, though his smile betrayed him.

Smoker chuckled. "As if you didn't see that coming."

Zoro shrugged before jumping forward, sword at his side. Smoker readied himself, jitte in front to block the hit when Zoro suddenly dropped low and somewhat sideways. Before Smoker could react he had a blade at his throat.

The crowd erupted, Luffy howling and demanding to be next before getting smacked over the head by Nami.

"Alright, you win," Smoker huffed, a small smile on his face as he lowered his jitte in defeat.

Zoro stood, sheathing Enma and giving Smoker a shit-eating grin. "You did your best."

"Asshole," Smoker replied mockingly.

"I'm your cousin, have some respect," Zoro chuckled, shoving Smoker's shoulder.

Smoker laughed. "Never!"

Gomu Gomu no Water Gun

— another random day in Wano —

It was a hot day. The sun had been burning down on them, and even in the shade of the trees it wasn't much better. Smoker had given up on trying to train, laying underneath a tree while smoking his pipe. 

Then he heard yelling. Not the scared, frightened yelling of people in distress. No, this was the high-pitched, filled with mischief kind of laugh that he'd come to recognize on the Sunny.

It quieted down and Smoker relaxed again, thinking the danger had passed.

Wrong.

He was so wrong.

It started with a quiet giggle. The rustling of leaves, a crunch of a dry branch. 

And then he was hit by water. Right in the face.

Smoker slowly sat up, eyes scanning the area with quiet burning rage. 

Another giggle from behind a boulder caught his attention. He grinned, dissolved into a cloud of smoke and began his hunt.

~*~

Usopp and Luffy, unaware of what they had unleashed, sat behind the boulder, giggling and trying not to laugh. 

"You hit him right in the face!" Luffy grinned broadly, making Usopp glow with pride.

"I'm the greatest water gun master there ever was," he boasted before looking around the boulder, trying to locate his target. 

His face went pale. "Smoker is gone…" he stammered.

Luffy had gone quiet so Usopp looked back. Luffy was gone too.

Then the muzzle of a gun was pressed against the back of his head. Usopp froze.

"You really didn't think this through, did you," came the low voice of the White Hunter. 

Usopp turned, fear on his face when he saw Smoker drop Luffy next to him. The Strawhat's water gun was holding him at gunpoint.

"TACTICAL RETREAT!" Usopp yelled and, with a swift motion, he threw a smoke bomb, grabbing Luffy and making a run for it.

He could still hear Smoker's deep voice echoing behind him. 

"This won't save you."

~*~

Smoker still held the water gun while he walked back to where they had made their main camp. And it seemed he wasn't the only victim of Usopp and Luffy's water gun assassination. 

Zoro was soaked, wringing out his sash with hair plastered to his head. "Got you too, huh?"

"Damn kids ruined my nap. At least I got one of their guns," Smoker replied, twirling the water gun around his finger.

Zoro huffed, holding up a water gun of his own. "That's not the only one they have, there is a whole stash on the Sunny."

They shared a look as they both had the same idea at once, grinning evilly. 

"Time for a rematch," Zoro growled and Smoker nodded.

Water Battle Round I: War has changed

Smoker and Zoro kept low, water guns at the ready as they snuck through the forest. They took cover behind trees and boulders, following the screams of another victim of the Captain-Sniper Team.

Smoker gave Zoro a wave with his hand to go around the other way, splitting up and surrounding their targets. 

Usopp and Luffy had, in the meantime, challenged Franky – who was already retaliating with water cannons on his shoulders, drenching the trees like an overpowered sprinkler. 

With a battle cry Zoro leapt out of his hiding point, sliding over the muddy ground while firing at Usopp from behind.

At the same time, Smoker used his devil fruit to catapult himself up, raining water from above onto Luffy, drenching the captain.

Usopp and Luffy began retaliating, but stood no chance against Smoker, Zoro and Franky.

And yet Usopp and Luffy didn't back down. They took cover behind two trees, readying their counter attack and Usopp shouted, "CHOPPER, NOW!"

There was a rumble and Smoker quickly took cover in one of the higher trees while Zoro hid behind a boulder with Franky.

Out of the underbrush jumped Chopper in his deer form, antlers adorned with water guns. He jumped left and right, picking up Usopp on his way and together they began firing. 

They were quick, Smoker had to admit. Zoro and Franky were surrounded and being blasted from all sides, so he called out, "FALL BACK! REGROUP AT POINT CLIFF!"

Zoro and Franky nodded and ran, followed by Usopp and Chopper hot on their heels. 

Then Smoker got drenched from behind. Luffy had made his way up the trees, using his stretchy arms to swing around like a crazy monkey, firing with his free hand.

Well, time for a tactical retreat .

They ran through the woods, screaming and firing water guns wildly. Usopp had gone mad with power, Luffy had become death from the trees and nobody was really able to deal with their level of chaos.

Until they found Robin.

With one graceful move, Usopp was dragged off of Chopper and suspended in the air before being flung right into Luffy, sending both tumbling down to the ground.

"You are a suuuuuuuper angel, Robin," Franky said, giving her a thumbs up.

The crunch of a twig made Zoro whirl around, firing immediately.

He hit his target. Unfortunately, said target was Nami.

Chopper had come over too, handing a fuming Nami a water gun with the cutest, most innocent smile directed at the enemy team.

Smoker, Zoro and Franky stood in shock. Then Zoro yelled "RUUUUUUUN!" before taking off in the opposite direction.

What started out as a fun little water gunfight had quickly become an all out war.

Brook had joined Robin and Franky, holding the line on one side while Smoker and Zoro attacked in tandem, the marine using Zoro as his shield so he could keep using his devil fruit abilities.

On the other side were Nami and Chopper, using Sanji as their personal shield – not that the cook minded, he'd volunteered after Nami had asked him sweetly. Usopp was perched somewhere at the back, shooting precisely like the sniper he was.

Nobody had seen Luffy.

Until they all heard it, stopping the fight immediately.

"GUM GUM–"

They all looked up at the shadow above them with horror.

"WATER BALLOON!"

With a massive splash, a water filled Luffy landed in the middle of the battlefield, spitting out a wave of water in all directions, drenching everyone – even his own teammates.

Water Battle Round II: Friendly Fire

Luffy popped up – mud-streaked and still dripping – and shouted, "Let's do another round! But this time – new teams!"

"Fine!" Usopp shouted back. "But I get to pick this time!"

"Why?" Luffy pouted.

"Because you turned the last round into a solo death charge!"

"I almost won!"

"Oh my god," Nami muttered, "you two started this mess. You're the captains now. Pick your teams."

Usopp folded his arms. "I want Franky."

"You always want Franky," Luffy grumbled.

"Because Franky's got hydraulics and you keep blowing your shots on trees!"

Robin smiled behind her hand. "Nami and I want on the same team."

Luffy and Usopp both froze.

"Wait," Usopp hesitated. "We're letting them be on the same team?"

"You wanna separate them?" Zoro asked flatly. "Go ahead. I'll sit back and enjoy the show."

"… They can stay together."

"Smart," Robin said.

Smoker sighed and muttered, "This is war. Why does it feel like kindergarten?"

Zoro patted his shoulder. "Welcome to hell."

Luffy didn't wait long to choose. "I pick Zoro!"

Usopp smirked. "Sanji."

Sanji looked scandalized. "But I was going to volunteer for Nami's team!"

"She's not a captain this time," Usopp said. "And you're on my team."

Sanji pouted.

Luffy glanced at the women. "Nami and Robin!"

Usopp grumbled. "Chopper. Brook."

Which left– Smoker.

Luffy pointed at him like a delighted child spotting a cool beetle. "Smokey! You're with me!"

Smoker raised an eyebrow. "Am I."

"Yeah! You're strong and you yell a lot."

They quickly laid out the rules: One hit and you're out. No devil fruit powers. No using Zoro as a human shield. No firing before the signal.

They took positions. Guns were loaded. Nami whispered something to Robin that made her laugh. Franky pulled a tactical vest out of nowhere. Chopper put war paint on his antlers.

Usopp raised his water gun to the sky.

"ROUND TWO! GO!"

Smoker bolted for cover behind a boulder, narrowly avoiding Luffy's gleeful attempt to spray the entire clearing in a full-circle arc. Water hit everything except the enemy team.

Smoker knelt behind his rock, water gun at the ready. The battle had finesse now – at least compared to round one. "One shot, you're out" brought a certain grimness to things. Like dodgeball. But with pride at stake.

Across the clearing, Zoro was a quiet machine, dodging between trees with smooth steps and short bursts of fire. Chopper and Usopp had him in their sights, but Zoro zigzagged too unpredictably for them to get a clean hit.

Smoker popped out from behind his cover and fired a jet of water toward a moving target – Sanji.

The shot missed. But Nami's didn't.

Sanji collapsed dramatically, clutching his chest as if struck by love and injustice in equal measure. "Nami-swaaaaaan–"

"Out," she said, already lining up her next shot.

Smoker nodded respectfully. Cold and clean. He adjusted his grip and scanned for his next target. A splash behind him made him turn – just in time to see Franky leap from behind a tree, striking a pose mid-air.

"SUPER SURPRISE STRIKE!"

His water gun wasn't a gun at all, but an industrial hose custom-built from spare ship parts. A tidal wave slammed into Nami from behind, drenching her from head to toe and knocking her off balance.

She stood there, soaked, blinking water from her lashes with murder in her eyes.

Franky struck another pose. "Sorry, Nami. It had to be done."

"You're dead after this," she promised, wringing out her shirt.

Movement to the left – Brook, bounding over a log. Smoker cursed and fired. Missed.

Brook fired back. Smoker ducked. A stream of water blasted against the rock behind him. He swore under his breath and rolled to the side, trying not to think about how very seriously he was taking all this.

Before Brook could fire again, a stealthy figure emerged from the underbrush and shot Brook right from behind.

Robin. Efficient.

"Thanks," Smoker muttered, dusting himself off as he moved deeper into the forest. He could still hear Luffy laughing somewhere, Zoro barking instructions, Franky yelling "SUPER" between blasts.

Then – rustling. A blur of pink.

Smoker turned, water gun raised – only to come face to face with the Strawhat crew's deadliest doctor.

Chopper stood, eyes narrowed – his hooves were muddy, his gun held steady, and he looked terrifyingly determined for someone so adorable. They stared at each other.

"This isn't personal," Chopper said gravely – and shot Smoker right in the chest.

Smoker staggered back with a grunt, a splash of water soaking him. Out.

He trudged to the sidelines, where Sanji, Brook and Nami were already lounging in various states of damp defeat. Sanji handed him a dry cigar and a lighter.

"Chopper has no mercy," Smoker muttered.

Back on the field, Robin was hiding behind a bush – not hidden enough apparently, because Usopp spotted her and, with a grin, took the shot. Robin arched a brow as she was struck and calmly raised her hands. "Out."

Then Luffy, wild-eyed and sprinting, spun to target Chopper – and nailed him square in the chest with a victorious yell.

"Gotcha!"

Chopper toppled over with a theatrical gasp. "I'm dead!"

Zoro, locked in a chaotic chase with Franky, called out, "I've got him! Just need a clean–"

Luffy whipped around to help – and in the chaos, reflexively pulled the trigger.

The water stream hit Zoro straight in the face.

Zoro froze mid-dash. Franky dove out of the way just in time.

Luffy's face went pale. "Zoro…?"

Zoro turned slowly, water dripping from his hair, eye sharp as blades. "Did. You. Just. Shoot me."

"I– I didn't mean to!" Luffy yelped. "I thought you were Franky! You both have big shoulders!"

"Big–?!"

"I MESSED UP!" Luffy panicked, wide-eyed. "It was a betrayal. I betrayed my first crewmate."

Zoro blinked.

"I'm gonna get kicked out of my own crew. Is that allowed? Can that happen?! Do I have to promote you to captain now?!"

Zoro sighed deeply. "You shot me. With a water gun."

"I'M SORRY!" Luffy wailed. "I PANICKED!"

Zoro looked skyward like he was reconsidering every decision he'd made since Shells Town. "Luffy."

Luffy sniffled. "Yeah?"

"You're a dumbass."

"I KNOW."

They were still arguing when a final, satisfying splat hit Luffy in the side of the face.

Usopp lowered his water gun triumphantly. "Victory!"

Franky whooped. "TEAM USOPP TAKES THE TITLE!"

Cheers erupted – some genuine, some mostly relieved it was finally over.

Luffy, face still dripping, blinked once – then threw his arms in the air and shouted, "WHAT?! We lost?!"

Everyone looked like they'd been through a minor natural disaster. Brook wrung out his afro. Nami examined her still-drenched blouse with resigned dismay. Robin summoned a towel from who-knew-where and calmly began drying her hair.

Luffy, already recovered, started bouncing around again. "Okay! Who wants round three?!"

Everyone groaned.

Chapter Text

The day had arrived. All the careful planning and preparing, all for this one moment. The day of the Fire Festival was here and it was time to beat the shit out of Kaido.

Smoker stood alongside the rest of the Strawhats on the Sunny, jitte in hand and ready to fight.

They had already broken through the first line of the Beast pirates' defense – three massive warships equipped with long range cannons. Yet they were no match for Luffy, Law and Kid. Another was destroyed by Denjiro, a samurai who Smoker had seen during the banquet where he'd been undercover as Kyoshiro. 

However Smoker couldn't hide his surprise when the third ship was basically destroyed by the sea itself – before Jimbei revealed himself, ready to join the Strawhats as their helmsman.

The legendary fishman was the only former warlord Smoker had somewhat respected, as he was less of an actual pirate and more of a free spirited adventurer. No wonder Luffy had managed to recruit him.

Luffy had immediately suggested celebrating, and Zoro had genuinely smelled the sake from Onigashima all the way out at sea. Smoker had to remind himself several times that for one, these kids are lunatics, and two, if Luffy had his mind set on something he would see it through.

They docked the Sunny near the small island in front of the entrance to Onigashima and even before they touched the ground fists were flying. Smoker lunged at a group of pirates, enveloping them in thick smoke before throwing them over the island's edge. Zoro was swinging his swords wildly and Usopp shot a vast array of plant based bullets, taking out massive groups of pirates at once.

It was over before their enemies even had a chance to call for backup, and Smoker had to grin as Zoro walked past him, smiling brightly with his treasure – a barrel of sake, held tightly. From the corner of his eyes he could even see Sanji shake his head in amusement.

Unfortunately they had to postpone their celebration as allied ships began sailing past them, reminding the Strawhats of their current objective.

Joining the ships, they set sail for Onigashima proper, preparing for even more battles. Once there they hid the Sunny as best they could, since sinking it like all the samurai did with their vessels was out of the question.

Kinemon used his devil fruit to give them all disguises so they could blend in with the Beast pirates, though Smoker had a feeling it would last about as long as their plan had when Luffy came to Wano. Meaning – maybe five minutes at most.

They had to split up in groups once again as Luffy immediately ran off to catch up with Kid, followed by Zoro, trying to stop Luffy from going off alone.

Great start guys, really, phenomenal work. Smoker shook his head because once again, nobody was really too bothered by the fact that their plan now had at least three wild cards who could destroy their plan at any given time.

He sighed and made his way inside as well, seeing if he could take out one or more of the higher ranks, and since his devil fruit allowed him to move quickly and quietly the others agreed to his stealth mission.

Best case scenario he finds Orochi so he could take revenge for the people of Ebisu town. The big headed bastard may have a mythical zoan, but Smoker was sure he didn't know haki, making it an easy fight for a logia like him. If he got his hands on the shogun he would make him pay.

— a little while later —

Alright, Smoker had to admit this building was incredibly confusing. One moment he was walking and fighting in a massive corridor and the next he was in some kind of attic between floors.

He could hear explosions, muffled screams and the building shook every now and then, raining dust all over him. 

Traveling as a smoke cloud had proven the easiest and so he was snaking around the attic's corridors, trying to get a hint for the location of the Tobiroppo or one of the All-stars.

Another explosion shook the building, closer than the last and Smoker could feel the shockwave disrupting his form. 

He hadn't heard the approaching footsteps and only became aware of another person when they ran into him. Or rather through him.

The person whirled around, dusting themselves off and readying their iron club. They were wearing a mask, making it hard to discern anything about them. "Who are you? Did my father send you to get me? If so, you have to fight me first!"

Smoker, surprised that they were able to feel his presence despite his current form, turned solid to face them head on. "I don't know who your father is nor do I care. But if you are one of Kaido's subordinates, I'll gladly fight you."

"Subordinate?? Are you nuts? The last thing I want to do is work for that bastard!" they replied angrily. 

Smoker raised an eyebrow. "If you're not one of Kaido's men then who are you? And whose side are you on?"

"I'm Yamato. And I want to free Wano from my father's cruel clutches!" Yamato said, putting up the mask to reveal a young feminine face with a bright smile. "And you are?"

Smoker lowered his jitte, relaxing his stance somewhat. "Smoker, Strawhat pirate and –"

Yamato's eyes went wide. "You're a Strawhat? So you're a friend of Luffy! Do you know where he is?"

Smoker was slightly taken aback by the sudden excitement. "I have no idea where he is. And – wait, did you say you want to free Wano from your father? Do you mean Kaido?"

"Hehe, yeah. I'm his son – but I'm actually Kouzuki Oden!"

That was not the answer Smoker was expecting. "So you're a guy."

"Yep."

"And you're also Kouzuki Oden."

"Exactly."

Smoker sighed. "Alright, fair enough."

Yamato smiled brightly. "Anyway, I need to find Luffy, I want to ask him to join forces!"

"Just follow the loudest explosions. It's the easiest way to find him," Smoker advised the young man. "Unless there's food, then find the food first."

Yamato nodded before shifting his mask back in place and running off. Smoker shook his head in disbelief. What a weird man. Luffy would get along great with Yamato, Smoker was sure of that.

— another undefined amount of running around later —

The crackling of static could be heard throughout the halls, before a horribly grating voice came through. Smoker rolled his eyes as Orochi began speaking.

"And as the highlight of today's festival –" the fake shogun hollered, "the execution of Kouzuki Momonosuke, the son of Kouzuki Oden!"

And there went the plan once again.

Smoker sighed before rounding another corner. With a swift swing of his jitte he cleared the path from Beast pirates before a different voice came through the transmission system.

Kaido!

As the emperor began talking, Smoker got angrier and angrier with every word. His smoke began to darken, curling and twisting erratically. How dare Kaido try and enslave an entire country! 

Smoker balled his fists. He'd make sure Kaido would be held accountable. 

Using his smoke to propel himself through the building, Smoker went off trying to find Kaido and Orochi. He was abruptly stopped by a body ramming into him at a corner.

"Oh hey, it's you!" came a familiar voice. 

Yamato had run into him once again, grinning brightly. The reunion was cut short by another body flinging itself at Smoker, stretched arms wrapping around his torso.

"SMOKEYYYYY!" Luffy called out.

Smoker's eyebrow twitched and he lifted his jitte to put the tip against the Strawhat's head. The effect was immediate and Luffy melted into a heap on the floor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Smoker asked, taking the jitte off of Luffy.

Luffy sat up, his energy returning again as the seastone effect wore off. "We're on our way to kick Kaido's ass!"

Yamato nodded eagerly. "Yeah. He should be at the live stage, just follow me."

Smoker wasn't in the mood to discuss or reprimand the two for being careless, so he just grunted and motioned for Yamato to take the lead.

As they ran, Kadio and Orochi's speech continued. They revealed Momonosuke's backstory and confirmed the survival of Oden's retainers, making Yamato break out in a large smile. 

They were almost at the live stage when Yamato stopped short.

"What's wrong?" Smoker asked, eyes scanning the surroundings for enemies.

"Nothing," Yamato answered before he turned towards Luffy, holding out both his arms.

It was now in the light that Smoker could identify the black cuffs around his wrists. Yamato was a prisoner. He was a hostage of his own father.

Of course Kaido would be cruel enough to do that.

Yamato looked at Luffy expectantly. "If we go against Kaido I need these off."

Luffy nodded, grabbing one cuff with each hand and began to focus. Haki began covering his arms, extending outwards in an aura.

Smoker watched curiously. He'd heard of haki being able to destroy objects without even touching it, but he'd never seen it in action. 

With a swift motion Luffy removed the cuffs and threw them far behind him.

And then the cuffs exploded.

Smoker wasn't surprised. He should have seen something like this coming. As he, Luffy and Yamato were thrown down to the live stage by the explosion, he contemplated how much bad luck one person could have.

They landed among a group of Beast pirates, though at the sight of Yamato and Luffy they quickly backed off, reevaluating their chances of survival. Smoker raised an eyebrow towards Yamato.

The guy might be Kaido's son, but considering their enemies' reaction, he must be immensely powerful regardless of that.

Then all hell broke loose. Luffy declared an all out war, Big Mom was here too, and Smoker had to fight a never ending sea of Beast pirates. Oh and Kaido had beheaded Orochi, which made Smoker's job easier, but damn he'd wanted to do that himself.

The scabbards appeared, starting their attack on Kaido, breaking a majority of the floor in the process before vanishing down the hole with Kaido.

From the corner of his eye he saw Yamato trying to get through the masses of enemies, probably to help Momonosuke, but he was stopped by two stronger looking Zoans.

Smoker grit his teeth. The other Strawhats were already engaged in different battles or not even in sight, so Smoker quickly got rid of his enemies to help Yamato.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Yamato called out, using his club to strike out horizontally, making the two Tobiroppo jump out of the way before running down a hallway.

Smoker wasn't quite quick enough to stop the Pachy-Zoan from following Yamato, but he could still take down the other one.

With a swift strike he hit Page One across the nose, making him stumble back. 

"Page One? Not even good enough for the Title Page?" Smoker smirked.

"You'll pay for that," the pirate growled before his body began to grow and change until Smoker was face to face with a full grown spinosaurus.

Smoker grinned. This game he knew how to play.

Page One roared and began to charge, maw open and teeth bared.

Smoker evaded the attack, jumping to the side before flying up and hitting the dinosaur over the head with his haki imbued jitte.

The ground cracked when Page One's head hit the floor with force. He growled, "Is that… seastone?"

Smoker landed next to the small crater as Page One began righting himself. Twirling the jitte, Smoker went into an attack stance. "Observant," he remarked. "For an overgrown chicken, at least."

Page One's eyes widened in rage. He took a step and swung his tail around in an arch, covering it in haki. 

Smoker blocked it, yet the brute force still sent him flying into a nearby wall. 

The spinosaurus cackled, not noticing the trails of smoke slowly surrounding his feet. With a snap, the smoke became dense and latched onto Page One before pulling him off balance. 

Using the confusion, Smoker leapt out of the rubble and struck the dinosaur's side, tipping it over completely.

Before he could land another hit though, the ground began to rumble, causing Page One to fall through the already broken floor.

Then a massive blue dragon emerged from the large hole the scabbards had made during their fight. Smoker's eyes widened as Kaido's dragon form began flying through the room, the scabbards hanging off of him like odd ornaments. Then he flew up and through a hole in the ceiling, leaving the building entirely.

Smoker had heard of the strength the Yonkos possessed, had seen Whitebeard destroy half of Marineford with one attack, but this was just getting ridiculous. A blue noodle dragon and a soul stealing hag? What's next, a normal guy with a sword who could beat you with the power of "fuck you in particular"? Oh wait… that's just Shanks.

Smoker fell back to the rest of the Strawhats when another wave of enemies came crashing down on them, invigorated by their emperor's display of power.

And now a group of large, demon looking creatures had joined as well, swiping away anyone they came across, even Beast pirates. Smoker, fighting off another overexcited group of pirates, looked up just in time to see Luffy take down one of the giants at the same time as another figure jumped off a nearby balcony, hitting another giant in the face.

The Strawhat's Gear 4 was a true sight to behold, the haki covering the arms shifting and moving with the rubber limbs as they stretched. He'd seen a lot of odd abilities, but haki being used this way was almost unheard of.

Smoker abandoned his spot to fly over to where Luffy was facing the newcomer, not yet fighting but talking instead.

It was Drake. His arm was bleeding and he'd turned into his hybrid form, but looked otherwise unharmed.

Drake looked at Luffy, weapons at his side. "I'm asking you to let me help you!"

Smoker landed between them, watching both equally. Luffy's face was unreadable, while Drake raised an eyebrow at Smoker. 

"You know him, right? Can we trust him?" Luffy asked, eyes trained on the other undercover marine.

Smoker nodded once. "I'll vouch for him."

The other Strawhats watched with various amounts of disbelief and wariness. 

Then Luffy smiled. "Alright, I trust you, Smokey."

Smoker exhaled and glanced over at Drake, who looked at him with absolute confusion.

"That was easy," Drake muttered.

Smoker gave him a grin. "That's Luffy for you. Stick close to me if you don't want trouble with the others."

Drake looked at him, deadpan. "You are insufferable."

— a lot of fights later —

Smoker hated Queen. Not only had that bastard shot his own men, he'd also infected a large number of people with an artificial virus. And not for the first time, as he'd heard from one of the Udon prisoners.

He and Drake had supported Zoro in getting the antidote from Apoo and delivering it safely to Chopper so the small doctor could replicate it, but it had been a close call.

Now they had to get to the roof.

"If we want to get to Kaido, we have to defeat or at least distract the All-stars," Drake had told them.

Marco, who had shown up during the virus fight, had begun taking care of King and Queen, leaving Jack unattended.

"We'll take care of him," Smoker said, glancing at Drake, who nodded. They were the only ones present and currently standing who could move freely and keep an All-star busy enough for the others to get past him.

Which is how they found themselves running down the halls of Onigashima. 

"NO, GODDAMMIT SMOKER, THE OTHER LEFT!" Drake shouted when Smoker took a right turn.

Smoker huffed and shot him a mean glare.

Drake raised both eyebrows. "What? I told you to let me lead the way!"

"And I told you I got this!" Smoker growled back.

As they approached another cross section they saw the scabbards running past. Kinemon, noticing Smoker, stopped and called the rest over. 

The emperor had really done a number on them, Smoker noted as he looked them over, covered in bandages, and Kiku one arm lighter. As they informed Smoker and Drake about what had been going on on the roof, a loud rumble interrupted them.

The next moment a wall broke and a mammoth tore through the hallway, only stopping as it saw the group.

"Well, at least now we don't have to find Jack anymore," Drake said, pulling out his weapons and stepping in front of the scabbards.

Smoker mirrored him before looking back over his shoulder. "Get out of here, we'll take care of him!"

They nodded before running down another hallway, disappearing out of sight.

Jack had turned towards them, his massive head looking down at the two marines. "The traitor and another insignificant pirate. Get out of my way!"

Smoker and Drake shared a brief look before lifting their weapons as an answer. Drake began taking on his hybrid form while smoke billowed out around Smoker. 

And the three charged.

Jack brought his trunk up before slamming it down atop Drake, who barely blocked it. Smoker used the opportunity to fly next to Jack's head and deliver a hard blow to his temple. 

The mammoth staggered before turning and using its trunk to attack Smoker. It went through him and Jack realized too late what he was dealing with. A loud crack echoed through the halls when Drake's mace shattered Jack's kneecap. Retaliating with a kick, he sent Drake down the hall.

Smoker tried another attack with his jitte, but hit a tusk as Jack defended himself. Then the giant mammal brought its haki covered trunk around again, this time hitting Smoker through several walls – splinters and debris flying everywhere.

A roar made Jack turn around, eyes widening as a large green allosaurus came charging towards him and bit him in the ass. The two began rampaging through walls and rooms, Jack desperately trying to get Drake off of him as the dinosaur began climbing on his back, snapping at his neck.

Smoker, having freed himself from the rubble with his smoke ability, followed them down the halls. 

They emerged outside near the edge of the island. Noticing the massive rock walls, Jack slammed himself against one, pinning Drake between his body and the stone.

While the two giants were busy with each other, Smoker got close to Jack's head, using the dust cloud as cover, hitting him right between the eyes with the tip of his jitte.

The seastone took effect immediately, the mammoth tumbling away before shaking its head. "Dirty tricks," Jack growled.

Smoker landed on top of Drake, jitte laying across his shoulder. "Not as dirty as poison gas." 

"Is this because of Zou then? Those filthy minks should have gone extinct!" Jack sneered.

Drake growled and Smoker glared at the mammoth, blood and smoke boiling. "The only thing going extinct is you !"

This made Jack laugh as he shifted into his hybrid form while taking out two blades, curved like his tusks. "Let's see what you got then."

They charged, sparks flying as the blades met teeth and steel. Blows were exchanged, Smoker and Drake taking turns attacking and defending. A hard hit from both blades sent Smoker flying, his body barely able to dissolve just in time before hitting a rock wall and instead splattering into a cloudy mess.

Drake's jaw clamped down on the blade, ignoring how it cut into his gums and pulled hard. Jack lifted his second blade, ready to bring it down on Drake's head.

Smoker grit his teeth as he reformed and noticed what Jack planned to do, his instinct taking over as he catapulted himself towards the battle once more.

Smoke filled the area around the prehistoric Zoans, growing and coiling, denser and denser.

With a reverberating crash the blade came down on Smoker, yet it didn't go through him. Jack's eyes widened at the sight before him.

Black shimmering smoke, a defensive cloud of swirling armament haki, had stopped his attack. 

Drake had let go of the blade and both Zoan users took a few steps back when the smoke began to turn white again. 

"Don't think that little trick will help you!" Jack called over, preparing another attack.

Drake watched as Smoker emerged from the cloud, battered and bruised but still standing, fire in his eyes. 

"Since when can you do that?" the dinosaur asked.

"Since right now, I guess," Smoker answered, breathing heavily, "Hey Eggs, do you remember how you and Hina destroyed the Shell pirates years ago?"

Drake looked at him, confused, before his eyes widened in recognition. "You think you can pull off what Hina did?"

Smoker just gave him a confident grin.

Jack, having had enough of waiting, began charging once again, blades swinging in wide arcs.

His blades hit Drake head on, yet he was protected by a layer of armament smoke. With a swoosh, black spikes shot out of the cloud shield, piercing and slicing Jack's arms as he staggered back.

Drake lifted his head high, the majority of his body covered in a black smoke armor adorned with black spikes that moved around, pointing in every direction like snakes. A large black smoke ribbon surrounded the allosaurus.

Jack grit his teeth. "Are you awakened? No, that looks different. This is the logia's doing."

With that, Jack turned back into his full mammoth form, wielding his blades in his trunk. 

And then they clashed, spiky armored allosaurus versus blade wielding mammoth. Sparks went flying and blood was drawn as they battled.

Jack swung his blades and Drake dodged when Smoker deflected them off of them. With a loud crack Drake and Jack went head to head, a match of pure strength while smoke surrounded both.

Suddenly Jack's energy began to fade and Drake started to push the massive pirate towards the edge of the island.

Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw a jitte, tip firmly lodged in between his shoulder blades.

Smoker manifested atop of Drake, one hand staying smoke, hand holding the jitte across from him. "COME ON DRAKE!"

With a roar Drake pushed with even more energy. Jack tried to get up, but there were cuts and wounds littered all over his joints, preventing him from getting a good foothold. 

"So that's where your spikes attacked. The lizard was just a decoy…" the mammoth huffed. 

With one final push Jack fell over the edge.

Drake stood atop the cliff, watching the All-star disappear below. Smoker kneeled on his head, pulling his jitte back to him.

They breathed heavily as the exhaustion began to settle in their bones. Bleeding and bruised they retreated, Drake turning back to his human form before they both sat down on the ground.

"That went… better than I thought," Drake said, his voice strained.

Smoker huffed once. "We beat him, that's all that matters."

With a muffled fwump Drake fell on his back, arms sprawled out like a starfish. "Once this is over I'm going on vacation."

"Shit's not over yet. Can you still fight?" Smoker asked, lighting a cigar.

Drake grumbled before sitting back up. "I think I've got a bit of energy left."

"Good, then let's go." Smoker stood, but his face showed the pain he was in. He kept going though. He had to.

— a little bit later, back inside skull dome —

Someone had set the building on fire. Though the smoke and heat barely affected Smoker, Drake wasn't as lucky, coughing every now and then.

"I told you to stay outside the fire!" Smoker reprimanded the redhead.

Drake shook his head. "I got this. And besides, we're almost–"

Gunshots stopped him mid-sentence, both marines immediately ducking low to be less visible.

Wood splintered and cracked around them as three figures emerged from the flames. Two were dressed in white suits with masks, the third was wearing a pink kimono while wielding a pistol in each hand.

"What the hell is CP0 doing here?" Smoker whispered, gritting his teeth.

"I've heard of Kaido's dealings with the world government via a man named Joker, but they were only rumors," Drake answered quietly.

Smoker's eyes widened as he looked at Drake. "Joker? Oh you've got to be kidding me. That explains so much."

"What do you mean?" Drake raised an eyebrow.

More gunshots rang out as the battle in front of them continued and Smoker's eyes fell back on the gunslinger samurai. "I'll tell you later. We need to help him or he won't survive this."

Drake nodded reluctantly. "But you better also tell me why we're helping Izou, a former Whitebeard division leader."

Smoker glanced at him and huffed sharply before joining the battle.

Izou had been cornered by the two agents and just as one prepared to strike with a finger pistol, a loud crack filled the room.

The agent was sent flying when Smoker's jitte hit him right in the chest. The second agent stopped his attack, reevaluating the situation. He only noticed Drake when his blade pierced his chest.

Izou looked at his two unexpected saviors with wide eyes before regaining his composure. "We have to stop them from getting to the roof! They want to eliminate the Strawhat!"

Smoker looked over his shoulder at the samurai and nodded. "Three against two, we should be able to handle this."

The agent that Drake had wounded jumped further back and was joined by his partner again. "Two marines fighting alongside a pirate? We've always known marines were useless, but this is a new low."

Smoker laid his jitte across his shoulder, glaring at the agents. "Better fighting side by side with an honorable pirate than making deals with cruel ones."

This seemed to piss off the agents and they began attacking. Izou started firing whenever they were out of range of the marines. Drake engaged in close combat, keeping one agent busy while Smoker took care of the other one, attacking with smoke and jitte, preventing the agent from getting too close.

It wasn't a fair battle. CP0 agents were strong, yes, but most of them lacked actual combat abilities, especially against experienced fighters. They were more suited for assassinations and infiltration than this kind of battle, and it showed.

Smoker, Drake and Izou worked in tandem, quickly overpowering the agents, making sure they would not cause any more trouble.

They breathed hard, Drake and Izou visibly more so due to the smoke and flames surrounding them. They didn't have much time, the fire had surrounded them on all sides, making it impossible to find an escape route.

"Shit, we're trapped," Izou panted, his voice rough from exhaustion and inhaling fumes.

Drake coughed and Smoker tried vehemently to create a way through the fire, using his smoke as a shield. It was of no use, the flames had spread out too far.

Smoker grit his teeth as he called out, "Hey, get over here!"

Izou and Drake looked at him, confused, but complied, walking through the flames over to where Smoker stood. The area wasn't big, but free of flames.

Smoker closed his eyes and focused, his body turning into a smoke cloud that grew larger and larger until it completely surrounded Izou and Drake, shielding them from the outside.

"How long do you think you can hold this?" Drake asked.

"As long as I have to. I won't let you die here!" Smoker answered, voice steady and determined.

It could have been minutes or hours – hard to tell – but at some point the building started to rumble. It began as a small quiver, making Izou and Drake share confused looks.

Then it grew, the floor shaking as something began to approach. Before anyone could react, a flood pulled them off the ground, making Smoker turn back into human form. 

The water masses pulled them down a hallway and out of sight.

— a little while later —

Smoker shot up from where he'd been laying, immediately coughing up water. His lungs burned and he felt uncomfortably heavy.

"Oh thank goodness you're awake. I almost thought you wouldn't make it," Izou said, sitting nearby as he wrung out his kimono.

Smoker glanced over, noticing Drake next to him, still out cold. "Did you–" he was interrupted by another cough.

Izou turned, giving him a small smile. "I only repaid a debt."

So he did save them. Smoker exhaled, before slumping back on the floor. He was exhausted.

He could hear faint voices, but since Izou didn't seem alarmed, he felt he could ignore them for a little while longer.

Then he passed out again.

— somewhere else, hours later —

When Smoker woke up he was in a room. An intact one, to be specific. Not burned or otherwise destroyed, just a regular, normal room.

He slowly sat up, his muscles protesting every single move. Bandages were covering most of his body and a wet towel fell off of his head when he looked down at his hands.

Smoker's head felt like someone had put it in a vice and proceeded to hit it with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly.

Where the hell were his cigars when he needed them.

When he looked over he saw Drake laid out nearby, wounds treated, but still out cold. 

The clack clack of tiny, familiar footsteps caught Smoker's attention. Then the door slid open, revealing a tiny reindeer doctor carrying a bowl of supplies.

"Hey Chopper," Smoker greeted him, his voice raspy and dry.

Chopper whirled around and dropped his bowl, eyes wide. "You're awake," he whispered, before breaking out in a large smile.

"What happened?" Smoker tried to ask as Chopper began taking care of his bandages.

The little doctor grinned proudly up at him before beginning to explain all that had happened.

They had won. They had actually won against Kaido, with Luffy beating him so hard the old emperor was sent through a hole in the island all the way into a magma chamber.

While the little reindeer was talking, Drake had begun waking up too, and Usopp came by as well before heading off to tell the rest of the Strawhats that Smoker was awake.

They gathered in the room, bringing food and drinks and throwing a little mini party for the two marines, much to Drake's confusion. Luffy and Zoro were still sleeping though, but Smoker would definitely go check on the two once he felt better.

Even Izou and Marco stopped by briefly, the latter thanking Smoker and Drake for saving Izou's life.

Smoker denied the thanks, saying it was his duty as a marine to help, but nobody believed him. Smoker didn't even believe it himself, but the smiles and laughter he got was absolutely worth it.

Chapter Text

Congratulations, it's a Nico

The party had started like all Strawhat parties did: loud, chaotic, and somehow already one barrel of sake in before the tables were fully set. They were celebrating the liberation of Wano – and, more importantly to a select few, the two Strawhat birthdays that had passed during the mess of battle and aftermath: Sanji's and Franky's.

Of course, Sanji – ever the hopeless culinary romantic – had insisted on making the food himself, and most of the cake. But the crew had one surprise he hadn't anticipated.

"Sanji!" Nami called, arms behind her back in a suspiciously innocent pose. "Come over here for a second."

Luffy was already bouncing on his heels next to her, covered in suspicious smudges of frosting. Behind them, Chopper pulled the cloth off the tray to reveal a slightly lopsided but lovingly decorated cake. It read Happy Birthday, Sangoro, and had little fondant hearts… plus something that looked like a turkey wearing sunglasses, which could only be Luffy's contribution.

Sanji blinked. "You guys–"

"Me and Nami made it!" Chopper beamed.

"I helped!" Luffy added proudly. "I licked out the empty bowls."

Sanji stood there for a second, eyes wide behind his bangs. Then he quickly turned around and covered his face with one hand. "Stupid… damn brats…"

"He's crying," Zoro said flatly from a few feet away, arms crossed and expression smug.

"I am not!"

Usopp and Franky launched into their planned fireworks just in time, setting the sky ablaze with sparkling colors and thunderous bangs. Cheers went up. The Heart Pirates were hanging at the edges of the gathering, their captain nowhere in sight as usual. Kid's crew was nearby, already rowdy and borderline dangerous. Yamato had arrived bearing barrels of sake and a high-five for everyone, and even Momonosuke and a few of his retainers made a brief appearance before heading off to handle shogun duties.

Off to the side, Smoker sat cross-legged, pipe in hand, enjoying the last of his Zou tobacco with a thoughtful expression. Drake lounged beside him, also sipping from a cup.

"You don't look like a man at a party," Drake remarked.

"I don't feel like a man at a party," Smoker replied, eyes on the sky.

Just then, Luffy bounded past them, paused, and doubled back.

"Hey, Smoker!" he said, grinning. "You can't sit in the grandpa section anymore."

Smoker blinked. "What."

"You're younger than Franky now, right?"

Drake furrowed his brow. "Didn't you just turn 37?"

There was a beat of silence. Smoker turned slowly to him. "What have you done, Eggs."

Luffy's eyes lit up. "YOU HAD A BIRTHDAY TOO?! THAT MEANS TRIPLE PARTY! MORE CAKE!"

Before Smoker could protest, Luffy had grabbed him by the wrist and started dragging him toward the others, shouting, "TRIPLE BIRTHDAY PARTY! SANJI, WE NEED ANOTHER CAKE!"

Someone handed Smoker a plate with a disturbingly generous chunk of cake. Someone else shoved a cup of sake into his hand – pink umbrella bobbing in it like a taunt. Chopper threw his little arms around Smoker in a sincere hug, and Usopp joined in with a grin, slapping his back hard enough to jostle the umbrella.

Franky hollered "SUPER!" at a decibel that might've cracked open a coconut. Brook started plucking out a cheery tune on his violin, and Luffy – still clinging to Smoker's arm – just grinned up at him with cake on his face and zero shame.

Smoker, who had come here for peace and tobacco, now had frosting on his yukata, a drink in his hand, and approximately seven people calling him "birthday boy."

Chopper shouted, "Hey Zoro! It's your cousin's birthday too!"

Zoro, halfway through his third bottle of sake, just grunted.

Sanji, pouring a drink and already suspicious, frowned. "Cousin?"

Robin, ever helpful, lifted her glass with a polite smile. "Oh yes, they're related. We found out on Zou. Quite the surprise."

"WHAT?!" Sanji spun around so fast he nearly threw the bottle. "Since when is mosshead related to smokehead?!"

Brook paused his playing. "Since Zou, apparently."

"I wasn't there for that!" Sanji jabbed a finger toward Zoro, who looked like he wanted to vanish into his drink. "Why am I just finding out now?!"

"But it explains so much," Usopp said, tapping his chin. "You know, the whole tall, broody, gets-lost-on-flat-ground thing."

"Stubborn," Chopper offered helpfully.

"Grumpy," Franky chimed in.

"Emotionally repressed," Robin said with a thoughtful sip.

Zoro gave Smoker a sideways glance. "Ignore them."

Sanji looked like he was about to tear his hair out. "So Smokey the marine menace is your long-lost cousin and nobody thought to mention it during any of the forty-seven arguments we've had?!"

Smoker exhaled slowly and looked down into his umbrella cup of sake like it might offer a way out. It did not.

Sanji let out a sound that could only be described as feral disbelief. "This crew's going to kill me."

"Family's like that," Luffy said with a shrug, like this was the most normal thing in the world. He patted Smoker's arm again. "You want more cake?"

The party surged around them like a tide – louder music, more food, extra drinks. Sanji had been dragged back into the festivities and was currently being force-fed a slice of cake by Brook.

Smoker, for his part, had almost made a clean escape before he was tackled by an enthusiastic Chopper and corralled into a new circle near the edge of the firelight.

"We need one more for sake pong!" Chopper declared, eyes gleaming. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

"Define fun," Smoker muttered.

"It's a game with alcohol," Nami said, already arranging cups. "That should be enough for you."

Zoro snorted. "You scared of losing?"

"I'm a grown man with a job."

"And now you're a pirate," Nami chirped. "Get over it."

"Technically I'm–"

"Strawhats versus Kid and Heart pirates!" Franky yelled from somewhere, effectively sealing Smoker's fate.

Teams were formed: Strawhats – Zoro, Nami, Chopper ("no drink, only throw") and Smoker. Opposing them: Killer, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo.

Yamato sat cross-legged at the edge of the game, fascinated. "You throw ping pong balls at each other?!"

"Into cups," Usopp explained.

Zoro threw first. Missed entirely. Blamed his missing depth perception.

Nami followed and nailed a cup immediately. "Drink," she said smugly.

Smoker sighed, muttered something about professional dignity, and landed his throw perfectly. Zoro looked at him, betrayed.

Three rounds in, the Strawhats were downing cups left and right – Chopper cheering, Bepo cheering for everyone. By the fifth round, Smoker had loosened his yukata, Nami was laughing too hard to aim, and Zoro was somehow more accurate the more he drank.

They won, narrowly. Smoker got a high-five from Chopper, a refill from Yamato, and a congratulatory elbow to the ribs from Zoro.

The fire crackled, the music picked up again, and the night rolled on with laughter and smoke curling high into the Wano sky. The party was still going strong – another round of sake pong in full swing, cake being passed around, Brook playing a vaguely familiar rock ballad on a shamisen someone definitely stole from Wano's royal stores.

Then Marco landed. It wasn't dramatic – just a lazy flap of wings and a casual, "Oi. Got some news y'all should be interested in."

Kid, ever the menace, snatched the newspaper from Marco's hand before he'd even fully transformed back.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered, flipping it open. "New emperor..."

The music stopped. Even Luffy paused mid-bite, mouth still full of cake.

"Monkey D. Luffy, new Emperor!" Kid read aloud.

The roar that followed shook the treetops. Luffy punched the air and nearly launched himself into an open barrel of sake. Zoro caught his ankle, mid-somersault.

Kid continued, gritting his teeth. "New bounties for him, Law and myself – three billion each."

The Heart Pirates cheered. The Kid Pirates tried not to look disappointed.

"And the other emperor is..." Kid frowned. "Buggy the Clown."

Silence. Even the wind seemed to stop.

"... What," Franky said.

"Buggy?" Nami echoed.

"Buggy?!" Sanji choked on his drink.

Kid flipped the page. "Leader of Cross Guild – newly formed crime syndicate. With... Mihawk and Sir Crocodile?"

That broke the silence.

"There's no way Mihawk would take orders from Buggy," Zoro said flatly.

"Crocodile neither," Robin murmured.

"Maybe he has blackmail on them!" Usopp gasped.

Marco finally sat down, now with a cup of sake in hand. "If you're done screaming," he said mildly, "the real fun's the back pages."

Sure enough, bounty posters were being passed out now, crew by crew. Luffy's had already been passed around. Zoro looked suspiciously pleased with his own bounty.

Then someone screamed.

"WHAT?!" Sanji's voice rang out over the commotion.

Everyone turned.

He was holding a bounty poster. Shaking. "WHY IS HE ON HERE?!"

Everyone crowded in.

"Nico Tine?" Usopp read. "The White Hunter?"

"... That's my face," Smoker muttered, somehow looking both exhausted and stunned.

"And my last name," Robin added serenely.

"What?!" Sanji shrieked. "No. No, no!"

Robin smiled, calm as the sea. "We share a mother. I figured it out some time ago. The same birthmark. The timeline and our conversation confirmed it."

"YOU'RE RELATED TO THAT THICK-HEADED CHIMNEY?!"

"Correct," Robin said, still unbothered.

"Smoker's your brother?!" Franky asked, wide-eyed.

"Half-brother," Robin corrected gently. "But yes."

"I'm gonna pass out," Sanji muttered.

"Wait," Luffy said. "Does that mean Smoker's family?!" He turned to Zoro. "Wait again. You're family too! So you're all–"

"No," Smoker cut in, rubbing his temples. "We're not doing this."

Zoro just took another swig of sake. "Too late."

Luffy bounced up and down. "We have a family crew!"

Smoker sat down, heavy with disbelief.

"Hey," Robin said, leaning beside him. "At least now you know."

He glanced at her – calm, graceful, terrifying Robin – and gave a short, smoky laugh.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess I do."

Rubber Duckie, you're the one

Getting some alone time on the Sunny was rare. Getting alone time and an unoccupied bath was almost a miracle. But today, Smoker had luck on his side – or maybe just good timing.

He wasn't usually one for baths. Devil fruit user and all that. The water always left him feeling a little off, like gravity was nudging at him sideways. But the heat helped. After the fight against Jack in Wano, every joint in his body still felt like it had been individually tenderized and cooked over low heat. So, for once, he gave in to the promise of hot water and silence.

He sank into the tub with a satisfied grunt, feeling the aches start to melt away even as the water tugged gently at his strength. The Sunny's bathroom was normally anything but relaxing – more like a war zone at peak hours. Shaving foam explosions, fogged-up mirrors, hairbrush skirmishes, and a chorus of yelling about who took whose toothbrush. Smoker had learned to wedge his routine between Usopp's rambling and Luffy's chaos. It wasn't ideal, but it minimized casualties.

But now? Now it was just him, the warm water, and–

He opened one eye.

The ducks. Dozens of them.

Rubber ducks in various shapes and colors lined the edges of the tub like silent spectators. A tiny colorful army. All of them staring. Unblinking.

Of course they had ducks for the Strawhat crew. He picked one up at random – tiny straw hat, wide grin, a scar under one eye. The Zoro duck had three little swords tied to its sides and a tiny bandana painted on its head. It floated confidently for about five seconds before tipping sideways like it had gotten lost even in the bath.

Smoker gave it a flat look. "Figures."

Next to it, the Nami duck had a smug little smile and was bright orange. The Chopper duck had antlers twice its body size and a tiny blue hat so detailed it might've been stitched. The Brook duck was just a literal duck skeleton – plastic bones and all. One of its wings held a molded cane. He hated how much detail they'd crammed into these things. It was... adorable.

And then he saw it. Tucked between Robin's ominously elegant duck and a Sanji duck that had literal painted-on hearts for eyes – was a white duck. Scar across its head. Two tiny cigars molded into its beak. Smoker choked.

It was him. It was actually him.

No, he wasn't tearing up. That would be ridiculous. It was just a rubber duck. A very small, very well-made, unreasonably specific rubber duck.

He let them drift around him in the water. Little soldiers on parade. The Zoro duck bumped into his arm, flipped over, and immediately started floating upside down again.

There were more on the shelf. A black-feathered duck with a tiny hat and piercing yellow eyes – Dracule Miduck. Another with a scarred, angry face and a little plastic sand swirl base – Crocoduck. Smoker squinted at them. Duck ex-warlords. Great.

And then – a little duck with round glasses. Tied-back hair. A very stern, judgmental frown molded right into the beak.

"Tashigi," he muttered.

There were others, too. One with an extra set of wings. Another that just had a beanie as an extra and nothing else. One that looked suspiciously like a Going Merry replica. He didn't recognize most of them.

Smoker sighed, sank a little deeper into the tub, and let the duck army drift around him in solemn silence. He watched the steam rise, the sound of gently sloshing water and the occasional squeak of rubber ducks the only company in the room.

How the hell had he ended up here?

Not just in the bathtub, surrounded by duck replicas of ex-warlords and crewmates, but here . On the Sunny. Aboard a ship crewed by pirates. Yonko pirates, at that.

He'd fought beside them on Wano. Had helped them take down one of the most powerful emperors in the world. And when it was all over, when the smoke cleared and the people cheered and he could have walked away – he hadn't. He didn't even think about reporting them to the marines. Not seriously. Not anymore. Because what they'd done – what he'd helped them do – had been the right thing. Liberating Wano, breaking Kaido's stranglehold on an entire country. Giving people their freedom.

And it hadn't been the marines that did that. It hadn't been the world government. It had been pirates.

These pirates. The ones who painted rubber ducks of themselves. The ones who named their fish before they inevitably ate them. The ones who ran headfirst into injustice with no plan beyond "kick their ass" and "save the people."

And now he was here. Aboard their ship. A part of their crew. Sort of. A member of a yonko fleet. He eyed the duck with the scar again. It bobbed toward him like it knew.

"Don't look at me like that," he muttered, flicking it gently with a finger. It spun in a slow circle, still puffing imaginary cigars.

He should've been furious with himself. He should've felt compromised, like a traitor to his badge. But what he felt instead was… tired. Content, even. And more than a little baffled. And maybe that was the worst part – that it didn't feel wrong.

It felt like relief.

Then–

"SMOKEY!"

A knock rattled the door.

"I'm in the bath!"

"We know!" Usopp's voice, way too cheerful. "But we need a ruling!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, we do!" Luffy yelled. "Usopp says the duck with the bandana and the swords is Zoro, but I think it's me!"

Smoker blinked. "… It has three swords. It's green."

"Yeah, but it looks kinda like me in the face!"

"I made it," Usopp said indignantly. "It's Zoro."

"But it's got my vibes!"

Smoker rubbed his temples. "It's a duck."

"Exactly!" Luffy shouted. "So anything's possible! Let's go check!"

Smoker sat up just enough to shout, "If any of you open this door, I will drown you. Slowly. So it hurts the whole time while you're dying."

Silence.

"… He wouldn't," Usopp whispered, but not without some uncertainty in his voice. "Maybe Sanji is done making snacks now, Luffy."

"SNACKS!"

The sound of retreating footsteps.

Smoker sank back into the water. The ducks bobbed against his shoulders. He flicked the tiny Zoro duck upright again.

"… Should've picked a normal ship," he muttered.

Sea King Rodeo

— on the Sunny, somewhere at sea —

The sun shone brightly, a soft wind carrying the Sunny across the deep blue sea while the Strawhats were relaxing. Robin and Usopp were tending their gardens at the back, Sanji was standing at the grill, calmy flipping patties while Luffy had been chained to the mast so he wouldn't try to eat them. 

Chopper was mixing herbs and medicine with Brook nearby, reading a book on music theory. Nami and Jimbei stood at the helm, deeply engrossed in a conversation about seafaring and navigation. Zoro was, as always, napping at the railing, hands behind his head and swords leaning on his shoulder.

And Smoker and Franky were downstairs in the workshop, fixing the Brachio Tank and the Rhino bike. The clanging and creaking of tools on metal and the smell of cola, oil and tobacco filled the room.

"Hey Franky, you got the thirteen wrench?" Smoker asked, currently lying beneath the bike with his hands in the engine room.

Franky, without looking, grabbed the wrench and put it in Smoker's waiting hand. "There you go."

They continued to work in almost silence, focused on the repairs they had to do.

A low grumble reverberated through the workshop, making both stop in their tracks. Franky lifted his goggles, looking around. "You heard that too, right?"

"Yeah, hard not to," Smoker replied, crawling out from beneath the Rhino bike. 

Then the sound returned, making the entire room vibrate. Smoker and Franky glanced at each other before they got up to head above deck.

They were greeted by Luffy halfway hanging over the railing while Chopper and Usopp were clinging to each other, crying in fear.

"IT'S A SEA KING!" Luffy hollered with a bright smile.

And indeed, when Smoker looked over he came almost face to face with a massive creature. It was almost cute with its big, orca-like face and the large purple fin on its back. However, it was also massive and staring right at them.

Before Smoker or anyone could hold back Luffy, he had already extended his arm, trying to latch onto the sea king. The creature, however, just moved slightly to the side before diving below the surface and into the deep sea.

Luffy deflated with a sad "Awwwwww" before getting hit over the head by a very angry Nami, reprimanding him for trying to piss off a sea king.

Smoker chuckled, which was the entirely wrong thing to do because Nami immediately whirled around and pointed at him, eyes furious. "Don't you dare encourage him!"

Smoker lifted his hands in a calming gesture. "I had no plan on doing that. This just reminded me of something we did back when I served on Garp's ship."

Luffy perked up at that. "You worked for my old man?"

"It was hell. He's the absolute worst," Smoker said flatly. He still had nightmares from the shit the "Hero of the Marines" had pulled.

Nami, now slightly calmer, put a hand to her chin in thought. "Oh yeah, he once abandoned you and your friends on an island, right?"

Smoker sighed. "He did that several times. Among other things."

"That explains so much and yet nothing at all," Usopp added.

Luffy sat down on the deck cross legged, looking over to Smoker. "So you mean Nami is like my grandpa?"

Nami hit Luffy over the head again while Smoker walked over to the railing, leaning against it. "It's the sea king that reminded me, actually."

"You must have seen your fair share of sea kings when traversing the Calm Belt," Robin said, having joined the rest on the lawn.

Smoker exhaled a plume of smoke, smiling slightly. "You have no idea."

— somewhere on the Calm Belt, over 20 years ago —

"I'm boooooored," Bellmere complained from where she was sprawled out on the deck of Garp's marine ship.

"You're supposed to help me!" Smoker glared at her, shoving the wet mop he was holding into her face.

Bellmere immediately sat up, throwing the mop off her face to grab her own. "Oh you are gonna regret that Smokey!" she growled, a feral grin on her face.

Hina, Drake and Rosinante – each busy scrubbing a different part of the deck – watched with entirely too neutral expressions as Bellmere chased Smoker across the ship.

Drake sighed. "We have one job. One."

The three went back to scrubbing, ignoring Smoker and Bellmere yelling at each other. 

Then the entire ship began shaking. Rosi slipped, Drake and Hina grabbed whatever was nearest to hold on to while Smoker and Bellmere were thrown into the railing.

They looked up and into the eyes of not one, not two – but three massive sea kings.

Nobody dared to move a single muscle. Then they heard a laugh. A loud, booming laugh that echoed across the ship and made everyone expect the worst – because if Garp was this happy about sea kings, they were all doomed.

"I haven't seen you in years!" Garp shouted, catching the sea kings' attention. "YO KIDS! Go grab the chains and hooks, I'm going to show you what it means to be a marine."

Bellmere and Smoker shared a confused look before scrambling off to fetch what Garp had ordered, followed by the three others.

They quickly re-emerged and Smoker wondered if Garp planned to catch one of these monsters. Sea kings were the largest, most dangerous inhabitants of the sea after all.

Garp walked down to the five young marines, taking one of the chains with hooks. "This is the greatest test of strength!"

Smoker's eyes went wide and they all stared at Garp, preparing themselves for something incredibly epic.

— back in the present —

Luffy, Usopp and Chopper were sitting around Smoker, listening intently. 

"So what did he teach you?" Chopper asked, eyes big and sparkling.

At that moment Franky returned from below deck with a chain and hook. Smoker took it, nodding to the cyborg. Yes, these will do the job.

"Haven't done this in years," Smoker mumbled to himself before turning back to the kids, giving them a smirk. "Have you ever heard of sea king rodeo?"

Just at that moment the sea king from before emerged a bit further away, breaching the surface before going for another dive.

Smoker secured the end of the chain around himself before throwing the hook in the direction of the sea king's head. It embedded itself in the dorsal fin near the head. 

Smoker jumped on the railing, giving the crew a mocking salute before the chain went taught, pulling him below the water surface.

The entire Strawhat crew began screaming – Luffy, Usopp and Chopper hanging halfway over the railing.

A few moments later the sea king emerged again and the Strawhats gasped in awe and horror at the sight.

Smoker stood on the monster's head, grabbing the edge of the fin on top of it and held onto it as if he was windsurfing. 

As the creature's head dipped down, he braced for impact, the water immediately draining him of his strength due to his devil fruit. Yet he held on as tight as he could until the sea king breached once more.

It was as if he was back in marine training on the day Garp had made them all do this. He could see Bellmere next to him, hollering and howling, the brightest smile on her face he'd ever seen.

Next to them, on another sea king, were Drake, Hina and Rosi, holding on for dear life. Hina's hair was plastered to her face, Drake holding her hand to keep her steady, both grinning from ear to ear. Rosi at the front, attached to the sea king's snout with his entire body, but laughing brightly.

And on a third, even langer sea king, was Garp, arms spread wide as he embraced the sky and sea, challenging nature itself to a fight.

"COME ON!" Smoker called out as the sea king dove below once more before it jumped even higher into the air. And he laughed. Bright and free and unburdened like he had when he was young. Or like an absolute lunatic with a death wish. Might be another case of the Monkey D. effect.

Back then he was too afraid to let go of the fin and face the world like Garp had. But now, right in this moment, he felt like he could do anything. 

The sea king dove down once more, deeper than before, and Smoker struggled to hold on. Then the creature swam straight up, its head pointing at the sky, and as it breached the surface all Smoker could see was the sun and clouds. As the head began turning towards the horizon he let go, arms wide like his mentor used to. 

From the corner of his eye he could see the Strawhats, some with stars in their eyes, some with mouths agape in horror, some just smiling in understanding.

Smoker let the sea king jump two more times before he removed the hook and used the last jump to propel himself back to the ship.

He was exhausted, but damn he felt good.

He also received a trademarked Nami Punch for it but damn that was worth it.

Chapter Text

— somewhere between Wano and Egghead —

The day was unusually peaceful. The sun was high, the ocean sparkled, and for once, nothing was on fire. Sanji was in the kitchen, cutting fruit. Zoro was napping by the mast. Nami was plotting sea routes on a camping table on deck. Chopper and Usopp were racing beetles across the grass. Luffy was hanging upside-down from the figurehead, arms dangling like a bored bat. Robin sipped her tea. Smoker was pretending he didn't live here now.

Then a news coo dropped from the sky. It let out a short kwah! before flapping back off, leaving a crisp envelope with an official-looking wax seal on the deck.

"Mail!" Chopper chirped. Everyone paused.

Nami knelt and picked up the letter. "It says – To Monkey D. Luffy, concerning your pending trial.'"

Luffy raced across the deck so fast he nearly fell off the ship. "A TRIAL?! AM I FINALLY WANTED ENOUGH FOR COURT?!"

"No, wait–" Nami turned the page. "It's not that kind of trial. It's a… a custody hearing."

The silence was immediate.

"Custody hearing?" Zoro, now awake from the commotion, repeated from his napping spot. "For Luffy?"

Usopp squinted. "You mean like… a kid custody thing?"

Luffy beamed. "I'm finally getting adopted!"

"You're already nineteen," Sanji pointed out, stepping outside. "Who even wants custody of you?"

"Maybe it's Rayleigh!" Luffy suggested hopefully. "He did say I was a good captain once."

"I think they mean biological parents," Robin said delicately.

Luffy blinked. "... You mean I have to pick between them?"

Nami, still reading, answered flatly, "Nope. They're picking between you."

Luffy gasped. "Like a competition?! Can I fight for them?"

"No," Usopp said, already sweating.

"Absolutely not," Smoker muttered.

Franky whistled low. "Okay, but seriously. Who's running this? Who even does pirate custody hearings?"

Nami flipped to the signature page. "Cross Guild."

That did it. Even Zoro sat up.

"Oh, great," Usopp groaned. "That's the one with Mihawk, Crocodile, and that weird clown."

"Buggy's not the problem," Robin said. "He's a mascot. Mihawk and Crocodile are the real power."

"They want to hold a trial?" Jimbei asked. "As in... gather and argue? No fighting?"

Smoker folded his arms, scowling. "It's a trap."

"Obviously," Nami said. "But it's also real. There's an eternal pose included. Sealed documents. They put effort into this."

"I wanna go!" Luffy announced cheerfully.

"No!" the crew yelled in unison.

Luffy tilted his head. "Why not? I wanna meet my mom!"

"There's a very high chance this ends in Mihawk stabbing someone," Sanji pointed out. "Again."

"And Crocodile's not known for his warm hugs," Usopp added.

Sanji crossed his arms. "Look, I'm just saying: who in their right mind would willingly claim responsibility for Luffy?"

Robin smiled. "That's the question, isn't it?"

"I hope it's my mom," Luffy said brightly. "I've always wanted a mom. She's probably strong! Maybe she has a ship made of meat!"

"You think your mom built a meat ship?" Zoro asked, deeply concerned.

"I don't know, I've never met her!"

"That is the worst logic I've ever heard," Sanji groaned.

But Luffy had already slammed the eternal pose onto the railing like a captain declaring war. "Full speed ahead! We're going to court!"

"And I thought this crew couldn't get any dumber," Smoker muttered.

Robin came to stand beside him. "Still think joining us was a bad idea?"

"I've stopped thinking entirely," Smoker muttered. "That's how I survive now."

She smiled. "Good. You'll need that attitude where we're headed."

~*~

The eternal pose sat in Nami's palm as the Thousand Sunny approached the island. It was more like a slab of rock, really – flat, gray, treeless. No sign of wildlife. No plant life either. Just the salty wind and the sound of waves slapping at the crumbling shoreline.

The only real landmark was a single huge tent and the fleet. A half-circle of ships had anchored around the island's coast, bobbing eerily on the tide. The flagship of Cross Guild sat at the center – green sails, colorful flags, and the unmistakable, chaotic crest of three clashing egos. Surrounding it were other vessels: some flying pirate banners, some unmarked, some so weather-worn it was impossible to tell where they came from or who they followed.

"Creepy," Usopp muttered, peeking through his spyglass. "Definitely looks like a trap."

"It is a trap," Robin agreed. "That's part of the appeal."

Chopper tugged at Luffy's sleeve. "You're really not scared?"

"Why would I be?" Luffy grinned. "I'm gonna meet my mom!"

Smoker groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not– fine. Whatever."

They anchored the Sunny at the edge of the rocky shore and disembarked. The moment their boots hit the sand, two familiar figures strode up to meet them.

"Mohji," Nami said flatly.

"Cabaji," Zoro added, equally unimpressed.

Mohji, wearing an overly dramatic red cape and flanked by his sleepy lion Richie, raised one hand. "Strawhat crew. You are expected. Please follow us."

Cabaji bowed, spinning on his unicycle for dramatic flair. "The court session is about to begin. This way."

Luffy followed without hesitation. "I hope they have snacks."

Nami muttered, "I hope they have rules."

The tent was impossible to miss. A towering structure of faded canvas stretched across the center of the island – once garish circus stripes, now sloppily repainted black. A massive Cross Guild symbol had been splashed across the top.

Inside, it was somehow worse. The interior had been transformed into a full courtroom: raised benches, wooden flooring, a jury box with no jury, a witness stand, and an enormous judge's platform that looked suspiciously like a repurposed cannon stage.

Dozens of pirates, mercenaries, bounty hunters, and absolute weirdos filled the stands, murmuring, whispering, and placing bets. The Strawhats were escorted to the first few rows in the center, where they sat uneasily.

Brook scanned the crowd. "I think that guy has three pistols in his mouth. And none in his hands. How odd, yohohoho!"

"Don't make eye contact," Nami hissed.

Luffy was too busy bouncing in his seat to notice. "This is so cool!"

"Why are we doing this?" Smoker muttered. "This isn't real law. This is theater."

"The legal system is optional here," Robin said cheerfully next to him. "Anything could happen. Even murder!"

Before they could assess the room further, the lights dimmed, veiling the tent in darkness. A single spotlight flickered on, illuminating a large pair of black double doors at the back of the tent. A deep bell echoed once. Twice.

"ALL RISE FOR THE HONORABLE JUDGE BUGGY, THE GENIUS CLOWN!" Mohji shouted.

"THE FEARSOME! THE FLAWLESS! THE–"

"Get on with it!" someone shouted from the back. No one stood up.

The double doors opened with a puff of glitter. Buggy stumbled through, cape too long, robes billowing, face beaming.

"... Huh." He looked around. "Wow, no respect, huh?" He cleared his throat and straightened his crooked judge wig. "AHEM. Welcome, pirates and criminals, to this historic legal event!" he declared. "Today we gather not to shed blood – yet – but to settle a matter of vital importance: the custody trial of Monkey D. Luffy!"

Murmurs rippled across the tent.

Buggy held up a gloved hand. "BUT FIRST – one rule. One rule only." He slammed a wooden gavel onto the podium. "No fighting. This tent is neutral ground for the next twenty-four hours. Any violence inside these walls will be punished."

"Obnoxiousness, too?" Daz Bonez asked from the side, arms crossed.

Buggy blinked. "... Yeah, I guess?"

Mihawk silently unlatched his sword.

Buggy paled. "RIGHT. Yes. Good. Excellent. Now – let's begin the trial!"

Perona, standing off to the side in an impeccable black and pink cloak she definitely stole from Mihawk's closet, cleared her throat with the cold precision of someone who actually ran the room. She held up a scroll longer than she was tall.

"Now commencing," she read dryly, "the legally dubious but officially scheduled Cross Guild Neutral Custody Proceedings for Subject: Monkey D. Luffy, Emperor of the Sea, Captain of the Strawhat Pirates and Strawhat Grand Fleet, and questionable public menace."

Luffy beamed.

Perona did not look at him. "Plaintiffs: Two parties claiming legal guardianship of the aforementioned subject. First parent: Monkey D. Dragon, absent. Representative: Sabo of the Revolutionary Army."

There was a pause. Then a familiar voice called from the left gallery, "Uh– that's me!"

Sabo scrambled up from a folding chair in the crowd, brushing off his coat and looking like he didn't know why he'd been summoned to this place. "Sorry," he added sheepishly, jogging toward the stand. "They didn't tell me there'd be assigned seats."

Luffy gasped. "SABO!" He jumped up, arms wide. "You came to my court thing!" 

He was immediately hit in the face by one of Perona's Negative Hollows and crumpled back into his seat.

"I wish I was born as a mollusk," he mumbled into the bench. Zoro pulled him upright by the back of his vest.

Perona ignored him. "Please state your name, title, and connection to the subject."

Sabo stood at the witness stand, blinking. "Um. Sabo. Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army. Luffy's brother. Sort of. And I'm… here to speak for his dad, I guess."

"You guess?" came someone's voice from the back row.

"I didn't even know this was happening until two days ago!" Sabo defended. "Dragon just said, 'Take care of it.' No context, no instructions! I don't know what I'm supposed to take care of!"

There was a short silence.

"Your presence is noted," Perona said without sympathy. "You represent the paternal claim."

Sabo nodded, sweating.

Perona's voice rang clearly through the tent. "We will now hear your opening statement before proceeding with the second plaintiff. Please begin."

Sabo coughed and straightened his cravat like it could help.

"So. Um. I'm here representing Dragon – Monkey D. Dragon – who is… technically Luffy's father. Biologically. I think that's important to establish."

He smiled weakly. No one responded.

"Right. Uh. So…" Sabo tapped his fingers on the podium. "Dragon is… a revolutionary. Very driven. Very serious. He's spent his life fighting against tyranny and injustice across the world."

He looked up hopefully. Still no reaction.

"And he… probably… had good intentions for Luffy. At some point. I assume." He sighed. "Look. I've known Luffy since we were kids. He's my brother. And I know he didn't grow up with Dragon. He grew up with grandpa Garp, and then Dadan and the others in the mountains. He barely even knew he had a father until we told him."

He scratched the back of his head. "And yeah, Dragon's never… shown much interest in being involved. But he did send me. So that has to count for something, right?"

Perona stared.

"I mean, maybe?" Sabo offered.

The room was silent.

"I… don't really know what I'm doing," he admitted. "But I want Luffy to be happy. And safe. And if Dragon being on paper as his 'dad' helps that, then… okay." He paused, then added, "Also, Luffy is nineteen, I don't think we should just hand him over like–"

"Next," Perona cut in.

Sabo stepped back, visibly relieved.

Perona rolled the scroll further. "Now calling the second plaintiff. The other parent."

The tent quieted. Everyone leaned in slightly, even the pirates in the back. This was it. The mystery. The reveal. Luffy's mother.

Sanji straightened in his seat. Nami furrowed her brows. Robin whipped out her notebook and reading glasses. Luffy kept drooling on the bench.

And then – Crocodile stood. Every chair creaked as people turned to look.

He was dressed in sharp black with gold rings, a lit cigar between his teeth, and with the expression of someone who knew exactly how to use legal proceedings to his own advantage. He stepped forward with the calm air of a man walking into a business meeting, not a clown-run circus courtroom.

Perona's voice didn't waver. "Please confirm your identity."

"Sir Crocodile," he said around his cigar. Just that, nothing else.

"And you are claiming sole custody over the subject?"

He nodded once. "Correct."

Gasps. Screams. Arguments. Someone dropped a chair. Someone else yelled, "HE'S A DUDE!" and immediately got Negative Hollowed. Buggy seemed to enjoy the chaos and cackled wildly. Mihawk looked like he was trying to astrally project elsewhere.

"Crocodile is Luffy's other parent?!" Usopp screeched, pointing.

"Since when?!" Nami gasped, grabbing his arm.

Robin's pen flew across the pages of her notebook. "Fascinating. This explains so much."

Brook let out a high-pitched wheeze. "I can't believe my eyes! Wait– I don't have any eyes, yohohoho!"

Sanji, who had just taken a drag of his cigarette, choked hard enough to double over. Smoker, frowning beside him, thumped him on the back and wordlessly offered one of his own cigars.

Buggy tried to bang the gavel. It broke. Perona summoned three more ghosts to try and silence the crowd. Smoker put his head in his hands. In the stands, someone whispered, "You owe me five hundred beli, I told you it wasn't Ivankov."

Luffy, still collapsed in his seat, raised one hand limply. "So Croccie is my mom?"

~*~

The tent didn't settle until Mihawk – from his post beside the judge's platform – slowly stepped forward, sword in hand, expression sharp enough to pierce steel. He didn't say a word. Just looked.

The chaos died instantly. Someone in the third row sat down so fast they fell off their bench. Buggy, who had been halfway into asking a question, shrank behind his podium with a terrified squeak.

Perona cleared her throat, brushing dust from her sleeves. "Opening statement. Plaintiff Crocodile."

Crocodile moved to the podium with the slow, deliberate stride of a man who had done hostile takeovers before – both corporate and literal. He set down a black leather folder with gold trim and snapped it open.

"Crocodile," he said. "Desert King. Former Warlord. Former President of Baroque Works, former Proprietor of Rain Dinners. Strategist. Land developer. Chief Officer and Co-Founder of Cross Guild. I am here to claim legal custody over my son, Monkey D. Luffy."

Robin's pen flew across her notebook.

"That boy," Crocodile continued, "has spent most of his life as a military target. Tracked, endangered, mishandled, and left to his own devices by every adult that has ever claimed to be part of his 'family.' The Revolutionary Army has neither raised nor protected him. Monkey D. Dragon, despite possessing the resources and reach of a global institution, has made no effort to involve himself in his son's life. I have."

Nami sputtered. "When?!"

"Not emotionally," Crocodile said without blinking. "Logistically. I have encountered him multiple times. I have personally ensured his survival more than once. My decisions during the Summit War are a matter of public record." He pulled out a color-coded bar chart and held it up. "Exhibit A: Marine engagement log versus Luffy survivability. My involvement correlates with a 59% increase in sustained life expectancy."

Buggy leaned over. "Ooh. What do the red bars mean?"

Mihawk's eyes flicked sideways. Daz Bonez cracked his knuckles. Buggy yelped as both of them simultaneously hit him in the head.

"I'm the judge!" Buggy whined from under the table.

"You were warned," Mihawk said, settling back to his post.

Crocodile continued without pause. "I possess the capital, the infrastructure, and the network necessary to provide oversight. He lacks structure. He needs structure." He closed the folder with a single, clean snap. "And most importantly, I am not doing this for sentiment. I'm doing this because it's efficient."

The silence that followed was less awe and more primal dread.

"Thank you, Crocodile," Perona said, absolutely stone-faced. "Please return to your seat."

Since Buggy was still cowering under his table, Perona stepped forward and produced a new gavel – this one bright pink, with tiny bat wings on the handle. She tapped it once against the desk. 

"Court will now proceed to witness testimonies. We will be evaluating each claimant for trustworthiness, parental intent, stability, and overall shadiness."

~*~

Perona rapped her pink gavel twice. "Witness testimony: Sabo of the Revolutionary Army."

Sabo returned to the stand, still visibly unsure why he was here. He adjusted his cravat. "So, I just want to say again, this feels... unnecessary. I mean, Luffy is–"

Negative Hollowed.

He collapsed dramatically. "I should've stayed in bed forever."

Perona sighed. "Next."

~*~

Daz Bonez stepped forward like he was addressing a funeral.

"Crocodile is the most competent, analytical, and well-dressed person I have ever known," he said, voice low and reverent. "He once ran a full-scale criminal syndicate and a casino financial board in the same afternoon. He is ruthless. Efficient. Entirely without emotional interference. Perfect father material."

The crowd murmured. Robin wrote that down.

"... Also, he has snacks in his desk drawer. Good ones."

"Thank you, Mr. Bonez," Perona said. "Next."

~*~

Boa Hancock appeared in a swirl of rose petals and glitter. 

"I have no testimony to give," she announced, striking a pose. "I am here only because I sensed Luffy's presence. His radiance called to me." She looked directly at him. "My love. My star. My future husband–"

"Next."

~*~

An elderly woman with a white apron and a very determined scowl hobbled to the stand.

"I knew Dragon when he was a lad," she declared. "Always sulking, always scheming. Only ever bought two pounds of anchovies every Thursday and nothing else." She adjusted her glasses. "He owes our fish shop 420 beli. Never paid it back."

The tent stared.

"Uhm. Thank you, Mrs. Chicken of Foosha Village," Perona said, without blinking. "Next."

~*~

"The court calls forth former Vice Admiral Smoker for testimony. Please come to the podium."

Buggy smirked as Smoker approached the stand. "Is it true you've been outsmarted by both parties involved in this case?"

Smoker's jaw ticked. "Yes."

"Both Dragon and Crocodile?"

"Yes."

"In front of witnesses?"

"Yes."

Buggy grinned smugly. "Alright. Next!"

~*~

The two men stood awkwardly side by side.

"Please state your credentials," Perona said.

They looked at each other. Then back at the crowd.

"We don't know why we're here," said Gattenshochinosukeo.

"I just followed the eternal pose," added Jigokukamabuta Megatenpanchiro.

"I summoned them because their names are hilarious!" Buggy wheezed with laughter. "Dismissed!"

Mihawk and Daz Bonez cracked their knuckles. Buggy screamed and ducked under the desk again.

~*~

Chouchou of Orange Town padded onto the stage. He sat. He wagged his tail.

Silence.

Then he barked exactly once. With feeling.

Everyone erupted into cheers.

Perona did not react. "Next."

~*~

Ivankov strutted onto the stage in heels taller than Buggy's pride.

"Listen, sugar, I work with Dragon. I know the man. He's loyal. Mysterious. Only dresses entirely in earth tones, regrettably. I get it." He flipped his hair. "But I was there at the Summit War. Crocodile may be a sandy, grumpy bastard, but he protected Luffy. More than once."

Buggy gasped. "Are you saying Crocodile has feelings?"

"I'm saying he has issues, darling. But maybe that's what parenting is." Ivankov winked and strutted off.

~*~

Dadan slammed her way into the witness stand like she'd broken down doors to get here. She probably had.

"I raised that brat," she shouted. "Me. Not Dragon. Not Crocodile. Certainly not Garp."

The tent leaned back in unison.

"Dragon? Coward. Garp? Insane. Crocodile? You? I don't know what your deal is, but I don't trust your gold hook." She jabbed a finger at him. "Luffy turned out okay, and it's a miracle. He doesn't need a dad. He needs snacks, a nap, and someone to stop him from licking salt stones. You want custody? You wanna take him? You feed him three times a day, get him to brush his teeth, and survive his shenanigans. Then we'll talk."

She stormed off.

~*~

Perona tapped her gavel once. "That concludes character witness testimonies. Final deliberations begin now."

Buggy nodded solemnly and leaned toward her like they were about to discuss state secrets. Perona didn't lean in at all, just floated her ghost clipboard between them. The two whispered for approximately fifty-eight seconds. Buggy occasionally made a show of flipping through Crocodile's charts like he knew what he was looking at.

From the Strawhat seats, Franky squinted. "Wait, are we seriously letting Buggy the Clown decide who gets custody of Luffy?"

"Technically it's the Cross Guild," Robin offered.

"That's worse."

Meanwhile, Chopper climbed up onto Smoker's lap, peeking over the heads in front to see better. Smoker sighed and braced himself as Chopper used his shoulder as a rest.

Buggy took a deep breath, stood, and raised the pink gavel. Everyone in the courtroom tensed.

"This court," Buggy declared dramatically, "after much intense deliberation and consideration of character, legal standing, and very compelling flow charts–"

A low whistle split the air.

BOOM.

A cannonball exploded just outside the tent, rocking the ground and knocking half the stands sideways. Panic exploded with it.

Cabaji burst through the front flap, panting. "MARINES!" he shouted. "Full fleet! They're already in range!"

Buggy screamed. So did half the pirates.

Crocodile was already on his feet, barking orders at Daz Bonez. Mihawk drew his sword with a sigh like this was just a mild inconvenience. Perona vanished into thin air. Ivankov laughed maniacally.

The Strawhats were already moving. Luffy and Zoro grinned at each other with glints in their eyes.

"Fight?" Zoro asked.

"Fight!" Luffy yelled.

"No fighting!" Nami barked, grabbing both by the collar and dragging them back. "Retreat! Now! Everyone to the Sunny! Prepare for an emergency Coup de Burst!" She pointed at Franky and Jimbei, who instantly kicked into gear.

"Usopp! Sanji!" She called. "Grab the idiots! If Zoro or Smoker get lost, we're not turning around!"

Sanji groaned but obeyed, hauling Zoro like a misbehaving child. Usopp chased after Smoker, who looked two seconds away from turning in the wrong direction.

The crew reached the Sunny in record time, sails already half-up and Coup de Burst systems humming.

"Everyone aboard?" Jimbei called.

"Coup de Burst!" Franky roared.

The Sunny shot into the sky with a deafening BOOM, the Coup de Burst launching them clear across the sea and into the clouds, the island shrinking behind them. 

Far, far away, they crashed back into the calm sea, the Sunny swaying from side to side. For a long, breathless moment, the crew lay in scattered heaps across the deck, blinking up at the sky.

"... Did that just happen?" Usopp finally asked.

"No," Sanji said. "We hallucinated the whole thing."

Luffy sat up, dusted off his pants, and put his straw hat back on with a big grin.

"Well," he said brightly, "guess I've got two dads now."

Everyone stared at him.

He grinned wider. "That's pretty cool."

— somewhere in the New World, a few days later —

Somewhere off the main trade lines, in a harbor town that didn't ask questions, five of the most troublesome men on the Grand Line sat around a single battered table in a corner booth. They sat in silence, each with a drink in hand – save Marco, who was nursing water for now.

"Well," Shanks said eventually, sprawled sideways across the bench with his arm lazily draped over Mihawk's shoulders. "That went well."

"I will kill you," Crocodile said flatly.

Shanks grinned. "You tried to get custody of your own son – who got abandoned by his other dad – and still didn't win."

"You lost your own rigged trial," Marco added helpfully. "Do you know how hard that is?"

"I didn't lose," Crocodile muttered into his glass.

"You didn't win," Mihawk said, sipping wine.

"Draw. Since Dragon didn't win either," Rayleigh said with a chuckle. "That's not too bad, I think."

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. "You're all insufferable."

"And yet," Shanks beamed, "you still show up to our little meetings."

"To play bingo."

"We never play bingo!"

Rayleigh downed a shot and clapped the table. "Anyway. Can't really own Luffy, can you? He's not the 'belong to anyone' type."

"Too wild," Marco agreed.

"Too much like Roger," Rayleigh added, with a fond sigh.

"Too much like you," Mihawk said, flicking Shanks' wrist off his shoulder.

"Hey," Shanks slurred, "I'm adorable."

There was a pause. Then Rayleigh lifted his glass. "Okay, you know what? To Luffy."

Marco clinked his water against it. "To rigged trials."

Mihawk tapped his wine glass. "To losing your own game."

Shanks fumbled with his beer. "To Croccie – world's greatest almost-dad!"

Crocodile sighed, lifted his drink, and said dryly, "To Dragon's cowardly ass for not even showing up."

They all clinked their glasses.

Chapter Text

Bikes are badass

Being at sea for any amount of time required nerves of steel. Mostly because one had to get creative on days where absolutely nothing happened. And Smoker absolutely did not want to spend the day fishing. And having to name the fish afterwards. My will to live would forever haunt him.

So, before any of the Strawhats got the idea to rope him into another of their traditions, Smoker made his way below deck and into Franky's realm of machinery. He'd need his permission, tools and materials for what he had in mind.

The Sunny – and all its features that the cyborg built into it – was an impressive example of what's possible when it came to multifunctionality. They had a goddamn submarine. And it looked like a shark.

The clanging of metal on metal caught Smoker's attention. Around the corner, in one of the alcoves housing the various machines and vehicles the shipwright sat, working on various parts of the Brachiotank.

Smoker cleared his voice to attract the cyborg's attention. Franky's head snapped up from where he was engrossed in his work, putting up his goggles to get a better look at the intruder.

Then he grinned. "Yoooo Smokey, what brings you down to my suuuuuper workshop?"

"I was wondering if I could use some of your tools and materials. There is something I'd like to do," Smoker answered, stepping a bit further to where the cyborg sat.

Franky lowered his hammer and turned a bit towards Smoker. "Anything in particular you're interested in?"

"Sort of, yes. I used to have a bike I could power with my smoke logia. It was quite useful to move about independently, especially over water," he explained. 

Now he had Franky's full attention, the cyborg's eyes lighting up more and more with every detail Smoker included.

"A bike powered by a devil fruit? And it could swim?? SUUUUUUUPER!!!" 

After that it was easy to get everything Smoker needed to start building a new billower bike. It wouldn't be the same, of course – nothing could compare to the original. But he also hadn't had a cyborg with a penchant for machines to bounce ideas off of before.

The new billower bike 2.0 was, unlike his previous one, a two-wheeler. It was made for speed and agility. Thanks to Franky's idea to rearrange the cylinders and engine part, Smoker could get far more energy out of it than before. Meaning more speed. The wheels were still big, allowing the bike to float on water and keep it pretty stable even at low speeds. 

It took several days and many trial and error tests to get it right, but once finished, both Smoker and Franky stood back, admiring their work. Once integrated into the soldier dock system on the sixth position it was ready to go. Now Smoker only needed to take it for a spin – and he was excited.

— later that same day —

"CAPTAAAAIN!" Someone screamed from the crow's nest above the ship. Smoker had just lit up a new cigar, ready to relax a bit with his sunglasses on. Why was it when something happened, it was always when he was about to take a nap. Usopp, perched up there with a pair of binoculars, was leaning down over the railing, waving his arms animatedly.

"THERE'S A PIRATE SHIP COMING AT US!"

Now that got everyone's attention. It had been a few days since they last saw a ship. Though that one had been an abandoned one – Smoker hadn't asked why Luffy was so excited about it, babbling about skeletons and ghosts and zombies of all things. Some things he just did not want to know.

Luffy and Nami hurried to the railing, one excitedly jumping up and down, the other serious but mildly panicked. Smoker just pushed his sunglasses back up. Surely they could deal with one pirate ship on their own.

There was a humming noise, steadily growing louder. 

And then the deck exploded in cheers and excited calls. And a few cannonballs.

Smoker heaved a sigh and stood to check what all the ruckus was about now. 

Luffy, Usopp and Franky were leaning over the ship's railing, pointing and screaming with glee at a bunch of small vehicles heading for the Sunny. Engines roared as a group of twenty or so fish bikes started drifting around the Sunny, shooting with cannons and rifles at the crew.

Nobody was really fazed. Mostly because the majority of the Strawhats had gotten used to getting shot at years ago. The bullets harmlessly passed through Smoker's logia body, were deflected by swords and legs and a rubber balloon or just missed them entirely.

The bikes were pretty neat and incredibly fast. Though the bombardment did little damage, it would accumulate the longer they left the enemy pirates to do as they pleased. Smoker wasn't the only one having realized that – Nico Robin and Nami started to call orders and prepare for a counter attack. Once again Smoker wondered why the Strawhat was the captain as the boy in question tried and failed to grab onto one of the fish bikes while the navigator took charge.

Sword slashes, laser beams, weird little plants the sniper shot from the crow's nest – they barely had an effect on the bikes as they weaved through the oncoming attacks with ease. They were just too fast.

Which was when Smoker had an idea. Maybe a bad idea, but it would be effective – and maybe fun too, but he wouldn't admit that. Smoker ran over to where the swordsman stood with blades ready and prepared for another attack. He roughly grabbed the back of Zoro's shirt and started dragging the pirate with him. 

"Franky, get the sixth bay ready!" Smoker called to the shipwright standing not far from the helm. After receiving a nod in confirmation, Smoker continued down below deck, still dragging a mildly enraged Zoro behind him.

Franky headed to the helm, switching the soldier dock system to channel six, catching the attention of the rest of the crew in the process.

Luffy had stars in his eyes. "OOOOOHHH FRANKY, DO YOU HAVE A NEW ROBOT???"

Usopp and Chopper perked up at the word robot, joining their captain at the edge above the soldier docks gate. 

The cyborg smirked. "Not quite, but it's just as suuuuuuuper!"

The gate opened. At first nothing happened and the Strawhats looked down in confusion.

Then an engine roared, loud and heavy. It revved, making the fish bikers back off.

And then, with a thick trail of smoke, a bike shot out of the soldier system, sleek and black and brand new, making the Strawhats cheer and shout excitedly.

Smoker grinned inwardly at them as he sped past the first fish bikes and leaned into the curve, drifting across the waves. Zoro was perched on the back, one hand holding onto Smoker's shoulder, the other holding a sword, a smirk on his face.

Adding more smoke to the engine made it roar, water splashing behind the bike as it tore through another group of fish bikes. Zoro swung his sword low, cutting through the bikers. 

As the primary threat, the rest of the fish bikes started pursuing the black bike. Smoker took another left turn when a group of bikers started to cut them off while the rest blocked their way behind them, trying to surround Smoker and Zoro. 

Smoker glanced at Zoro and they made brief eye contact before Smoker flipped a switch on the bike's handlebar. It slowed somewhat as smoke from the engine was redirected and Zoro took the opportunity to jump, pulling out a second sword and sending a massive slash towards their pursuers. Bikes and pirates flew everywhere when a chain explosion destroyed their lines.

Smoker still headed for the barrier of bikes in front of him when a green lamp lit up on his bike. With the press of a button he activated one of the new features of his bike.

Smoke exploded from the wheels, catapulting the bike up while enveloping the fish bikes in thick smoke. With a splash, Smoker landed behind the barrier. Another splash and Zoro joined him again on the back, sending another sword strike at the blinded pirates behind them.

The Sunny's crew cheered and Smoker, combined with the adrenaline of the moment, started to show off. He cut corners, drifting and turning at steep angles while Zoro took down enemy after enemy with precise swings of his swords.

There were almost no enemies left and the few who were still mobile began heading back to their ship. Not on their watch though. The black bike's engine howled and with a quick move Smoker drifted the bike in a 90 degree angle to their previous direction, using the waves to slow down and turn the bike around on the spot.

White Hunter Smoker and Pirate Hunter Zoro had found their prey, both grinning as they cut off bike after bike.

With a massive explosion the last bike was no more, leaving only the ship. Smoker turned the bike and drifted around it in a wide arc. Revving the engine, he sped up, heading right for the ship. Zoro stood behind him, moving his two swords in a parallel position at his side.

"Two Sword Style: Nigiri Samon."

Light reflected off the swords as two slashes went right through the ship, cutting it to pieces. With an explosion of smoke in front, Smoker cleared the way as the bike jumped off a wave and through the rubble that was left of the ship.

With all enemies dealt with, Smoker drove back towards the Sunny, revelling in the excited cheers of the Strawhats. Luffy was hanging halfway down the railing, Usopp and Chopper next to him, gleefully hopping up and down.

While driving close to the Sunny, Zoro jumped up and landed on the deck with a smirk, much to Sanji's dismay and a muttered "Show-off".

Smoker did one last drift around the ship before heading back too, parking the black bike in dock 6 of the system before heading up to the lawn deck. It had been a long time since he'd had this much fun.

Karaoke Night

It started, like most Strawhat disasters, with a perfectly normal and civilized barbecue.

The sun was setting, the grill was still hot, and Smoker was halfway through a cigar that claimed to be "Wano mountain flavor" and tasted like earth and salt.

Sanji sat next to him, legs crossed, sampling his own cigar like it was wine. "Notes of bamboo and almonds," he muttered. "Not bad."

Smoker grunted. "Still better than the ones from Dressrosa. That was a hate crime."

A few feet away, Luffy was trying to flip skewers with his bare hands. Nami smacked him with a spoon. All was normal.

Brook had been playing background music for most of the dinner – soft guitar, simple melodies. But now, as plates emptied and drinks refilled, he stepped to the front of the deck with theatrical flair.

"Ladies, gentlemen, undead companions – oh, that's only me! Yohohoho!" Brook laughed. "For your listening pleasure… a little song from a rainy island far, far away!"

Without waiting, he launched into song.

It was loud. It was fast. It was exactly the wrong tempo for digestion. Usopp produced a tambourine from somewhere and immediately joined in, backup vocals and all. They hit the high note. Brook shredded the guitar solo like his soul depended on it. Usopp spun in a circle and almost tripped over Chopper. Luffy whooped.

Begone with you you short and shady senators

Give out the good, leave out the bad evil cries

I challenge the mighty titan and his troubadours

And with a smile

I'll take you to the seven seas of Rhye

Smoker blew smoke out of his nose and muttered, "So that's why he's called Soul King."

Sanji elbowed him. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Before Smoker could respond, Usopp jumped forward and declared, "My turn!" He handed the tambourine to Franky and announced the song. A sea shanty, apparently.

Brook and Jimbei joined as backup for the chorus like it was rehearsed (it was).

The story was definitely a lie – something about a giant monster duck, an epic fight, and then a roaring victory. But the beat slapped. People were clapping. Robin was smiling. Luffy was already halfway through inventing a new dance.

The fight raged on for several hours, defend and then attack

With beatings from those wicked wings, our boat began to crack

The beast reared up to finish the job, and with a mighty quack…

(Quack)

I rammed my harpoon in his throat and made a tasty snack

Once the song finished, the cheering was loud.

Sanji adjusted his tie when Usopp was done. "Alright, alright – fun's over," he said, slicking back his hair. "Let's hear a song with actual, real feelings. For my lovely ladies!"

Cue Brook switching to keyboard and Sanji starting to sing.

It was heartfelt. Dramatic. It was also… not what anyone was expecting. Sanji reached for the high notes like a man possessed. Sang to the stars. Looked meaningfully into the sky like it owed him affection.

Doesn't seem to matter what I do

I'm always number two 

No one knows how hard I tried, oh-oh, I

I have feelings that I can't explain

Drivin' me insane

All my life, been so polite

But I'll sleep alone tonight

'Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten

Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?

When it ended, all the men applauded. Franky had actual tears in his eyes. Even Zoro, to Smoker's surprise, gave a nod of grudging respect. Smoker had to be honest – the cook had lost him somewhere around the time he started singing about "Kenergy".

The women didn't cheer.

Brook, tactful as ever, cleared his throat. "Perhaps one of the ladies would like to sing next?"

Sanji's hand shot up immediately. "Nami-swaaan, Robin-chwaaan, may I accompany you~"

"Me, me, me!" Luffy bounced up and down. "Is it the train song? Pick meeee!"

"It is the train song," Nami confirmed. "And I pick… Luffy."

Sanji deflated.

"Zoro, you too," she added.

Zoro groaned. "Why me."

"And Smoker."

"What."

Too late. Luffy had already grabbed Smoker's arm and dragged him to the front, whoo-whoo-ing like a train whistle.

It was a song Smoker actually knew, even if he'd never sung it himself. And it wasn't about trains at all. Nami took lead vocals. The boys – gods help them – were backup.

Luffy was over-enthusiastic. Zoro started off flat, then picked it up halfway through. Smoker just tried his best.

He's leaving (leaving)

On that midnight train to Wano (leaving on a midnight train)

Said he's going back (going back to find)

To a simpler place and time (and when he takes that ride)

Oh yes, he is (guess who's gonna sit right by his side)

And I'll be with him (I know you will)

On that midnight train to Wano

(Leaving on a midnight train to Wano)

They got to the chorus. Luffy let out the loudest "WHOO-WHOO" yet.

Everyone clapped when the song ended. Nami bowed. Zoro shook his head. Smoker blew some smoke out of his nose and muttered, "At least warn a man before you make him sing."

Sanji sulked over by the grill, aggressively flipping the second round of meat. "I could've whoo-whooed," he grumbled.

Nami, now smugly satisfied, handed the metaphorical stage over with a theatrical little bow. "Robin?"

Robin smiled. She nodded once to Brook, who moved to his keyboard and adjusted the settings with careful precision.

The first notes were soft. A slow, romantic song. Smoker blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden stillness that overtook the deck.

Franky, ever the showman, turned a dial somewhere behind the railings. The bigger lights on deck dimmed – just a little – until they were left in a warm glow. Lanterns and fairy lights shimmered from the ropes and masts above, casting golden halos on the deck and flickering across the water.

Robin sang. And for once, no one talked. Not Luffy. Not Usopp. Brook didn't even join in singing harmonies, fingers just gliding over the keys like the instrument was an extension of him.

Luffy – for once not moving around – sat cross-legged on the grassy deck, swaying gently from side to side with his eyes closed, as if carried by the music.

I tried to forget

The stars are there yet

They say come on

We won't be wrong

To be sweethearts in love

Smoker – who'd been planning to get up for a second drink – stayed rooted in place. The sound pulled at him. It was graceful and steady, bittersweet and lovely. He had never heard her sing before. He hadn't expected it to sound like this.

The final note lingered in the air like a thread of silk. Then the applause – genuine and loud. Nami whistled. Franky yelled, "GORGEOUS!" like it was the highest praise the shipwright could offer. Robin bowed with a smile that was just a little more visible.

The party picked back up after that. Sanji announced round two of grilled meat with all the pomp of a five-star banquet. Luffy lunged across the deck with terrifying speed.

Zoro plopped down beside Smoker, two sake bottles in hand. He handed one over without comment.

Smoker took it. "Since when are you one for sharing?"

Zoro shrugged. "You're nakama now," he said. Apparently, that was enough of an explanation.

Brook – now joined by Jimbei – drifted into another song. This one lighter, playful.

Jimbei hummed along with his deep bass voice, never messing up the key. Usopp clapped to the beat. Robin rejoined Nami, who was sipping an elaborate drink with an umbrella in it. Sanji made the rounds with cocktails for the women, beer and sake for the men, and lemonade for the captain and doctor.

Well, pick me up with golden hand

I may see you, I may tell you to run

(On my way, on my way)

They were all just a little drunk now. Not beyond help – yet – but loose. Loud. And Happy.

Luffy stood suddenly, fists in the air. "My turn now! I need backup!" he yelled. "Everyone!"

Robin raised an eyebrow. Nami looked suspicious. Zoro just sighed and took another sip of sake. Smoker guessed no one had a choice, then. They'd all sing.

Brook struck a chord on his guitar. "Captain, your song?"

Luffy grinned. "HOIST UP THE THING!"

Smoker choked on his drink. He hadn't heard that one in years. Not since… (They'd sung it to Rosinante during training, all off-key. He'd laughed so hard he'd cried.)

Brook hit the opening riff. Luffy launched into it without holding back – full of cheerful energy.

The shanty, in fairness, fit perfectly.

So pull up the charts and those weird gold machines

I see what it says, but no clue what it means!

It was chaos. Zoro and Smoker found themselves with one of each other's arms around their shoulders, staggering through the chorus while Luffy belted his lines and danced around over the whole deck.

Franky and Jimbei were clinking their cups together. Nami was laughing so hard she had to wipe her eyes. Chopper and Usopp were full-on dancing – spinning in little circles, arms hooked together.

Hoist up the thing! Batten down the whatsit!

What's that thing spinning? Somebody should stop it!

Turn hard to port! (That's not port) Now I've got it!

Trust me, I'm in control!

The shanty finished in a slurred, glorious final yell. Everyone collapsed into the deck furniture and each other.

Sanji passed around more drinks. Smoker lit another cigar. Robin let her glass get refilled with a serene expression. The fairy lights above swayed gently with the breeze.

"Uhm," came Chopper's tiny voice. "Can I do one now?"

Brook blinked. "The bubblegum one?"

Chopper shook his head. Then trotted over and whispered something to Brook.

Brook laughed out loud. Like, really laughed.

He gave Chopper a little bow and returned to his keyboard. "Ladies and gentlemen. Prepare yourselves."

The lights dimmed just a little. Franky moved a spotlight to the front. The reindeer in pink pastels stepped forward.

What followed could only be described as sonic whiplash.

I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

"WHAT–" Smoker said aloud, almost spitting out his sake.

Because Chopper was rapping. Not just rapping – spitting fire. Hard. Sharp. The rhythm was dizzyingly fast. The lyrics hit like cannon fire. There were beat drops. There were swear words – out of the little reindeer's mouth!

Halfway through, Franky started yelling "SUPER!" in time with the beat. Luffy was headbanging. Smoker just… stared, cigar momentarily forgotten.

Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assumin' I'm a human

What I gotta do to get it through to you? I'm superhuman

Chopper was killing it. He didn't miss a single beat, even when the lyrics doubled in pace.

By the final verse, the whole crew was cheering. When Chopper finished, he dropped the mic. Literally.

"YEEEEEEAAAAHHHH!!"

They threw Chopper into the air. Once. Twice. Three times. He shrieked with joy.

Sanji squinted at the empty lemonade glass. "Who mixed alcohol into his drink?"

Zoro leaned toward Smoker, sake still in hand. "First time he made it through the whole thing," he said, like a proud father.

Smoker exhaled smoke through his nose. "I'm terrified."

"But impressed?"

"... Kinda, yeah."

The deck hadn't stopped buzzing since Chopper set it on fire – figuratively. Sanji, pink-faced from the alcohol, picked up the mic with a dramatic flourish.

"Alright," he said, pushing back his hair with the confidence of a man who'd already forgotten the women hadn't cheered for him. "Time for a duet."

Smoker snorted. No way any of the ladies would join him this time either.

Brook struck up a soft piano intro – something slow, romantic. Sanji launched into the first few bars, every word dripping with yearning and tragedy. And then the second mic was picked up… by Usopp.

But instead of rage or wounded pride, Sanji didn't even blink. He turned to Usopp, extended an arm with dramatic sincerity, and kept singing like it was meant to be. Usopp managed his harmony surprisingly well – emotionally charged, like he was actually living the song. They started circling each other. There was belting. There was eye contact.

Falling slowly, eyes that know me

And I can't go back

And moods that take me and erase me

And I'm painted black

It was strangely touching. Smoker didn't know if he was moved or confused.

Well, you have suffered enough

And warred with yourself

It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home

We've still got time

When it ended, Sanji and Usopp held the final note like their lives depended on it. Applause broke the moment.

Zoro, from his spot next to Smoker, teased, "So, you into men now, cook?"

Sanji almost lunged at him. "Let's hear you do better, mosshead!" he snapped. "You think you're so cool – why don't you sing?!"

Zoro waved him off. "Not interested."

But he'd spoken the words. And on this ship, that was a mistake.

Brook was already passing him the mic. Luffy and Usopp were chanting his name and pushing him towards the front.

Zoro groaned. "You're all assholes."

Nami sat down in Zoro's seat next to Smoker, holding a fresh drink. "There's only one song Zoro sings," she whispered conspiratorially. "You're gonna love it."

That… raised expectations.

Franky stepped up to the guitar. Brook pulled out a saxophone from somewhere. The music started – smooth and jazzy. Zoro stood center stage. Sake in one hand. Microphone in the other.

Smoker watched him. Waited. Any second now.

The music kept playing. Zoro didn't move. Or sing.

The others were clearly trying not to laugh – Nami had her knuckles pressed to her mouth, shoulders shaking. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper started dancing with each other.

Still, no vocals.

Was this the joke? Did Zoro just stand there and… not sing?

A full minute passed. Then another. Brook and Franky kept on playing. Smoker narrowed his eyes.

Then – finally – Zoro raised the mic to his lips. He leaned in slightly, expression unreadable. 

The beat dropped.

And with full deadpan intensity, he said: "Tequila."

The Sunny exploded.

Nami lost it first – doubled over, laughing so hard she grabbed onto Smoker for support.

Luffy shrieked. Usopp was on the floor. Chopper nearly rolled into the railing. Even Sanji grinned into his hand.

Zoro stood there, unmoved, like a man who'd just completed a sacred ritual.

The music resumed. Beat. Beat. Beat. Another half minute. Then–

"Tequila."

They howled. By the third and final round, the entire crew screamed it with him.

"TEQUILA!!!"

Zoro took a sip of his sake and walked off stage like it was nothing. Smoker watched him pass.

Nami wiped her eyes, still wheezing and holding onto Smoker. "Told you."

The night had burned bright, wild, and weird – and now it started to smolder.

Franky sang You're the First, the Last, My Everything like he was declaring eternal devotion. To his ship. Smoker wasn't even mad. That might've been the most honest performance of the night.

Usopp and Chopper cornered him mid-song to demonstrate something they called the elevator dance – which involved flapping their arms around like confused sea lions. Smoker refused to participate. They did it in front of him anyway.

And then came the final song.

Brook struck the first chords – recognizable, powerful and begging for another group singing session.

Ooh, we're all someone's daughter

We're all someone's son

How long can we look at each other

Down the barrel of a gun?

Brook led with soaring vocals. Robin and Nami joined. Franky belted. Usopp screamed the lyrics with the conviction of a man who actually believed the words. Luffy sang in the wrong key and made it work anyway. Chopper fell asleep halfway through the second chorus, head nestled against Jimbei's side.

You're the voice, try and understand it

Make a noise and make it clear

Whoa, whoa

We're not gonna sit in silence

We're not gonna live with fear

Whoa, whoa

When they hit the final line, their voices rose together – messy, cracked, too-loud.

It was terrible. It was perfect. The last cheers faded out, laughter trailing after them. And thus concluded their impromptu karaoke night.

Nami lifted Chopper with care and excused herself, murmuring something about warm blankets. Luffy and Usopp stumbled off to the men's quarters – one singing, one half asleep. Sanji lit a cigarette and started collecting plates and leftovers. The kitchen door swung shut behind him. Brook and Franky packed up the musical equipment and the grill.

And then… it was just the four of them.

Zoro. Robin. Jimbei. Smoker.

They stacked empty bottles in a crate tucked beside the mast, half-danced around a rogue table, and finally slouched into a half-circle of chairs. Lantern light flickered above them. The Sunny swayed slightly with the calm waves.

Zoro, with no preamble, produced the Good Scotch and a stack of four glasses. He poured.

No one spoke. They sipped. Sat. Breathed. Enjoyed the peace and quiet after their loud partying.

Then Robin spoke, voice amused: "Our cook really was drunk today."

All four of them groaned-laughed at once.

Zoro shook his head and grinned. "Don't remind me."

Jimbei chuckled. "I thought the same thing."

Smoker leaned back and exhaled smoke into the night air. "I think he enjoyed himself."

Robin sipped her scotch, perfectly composed. "True. Let's wait what he says about it tomorrow."

They all enjoyed the silence for a while longer, fully done for the night. The Sunny creaked gently under them. The sky was vast and full of stars. Smoker could still hear the faint echoes of a tambourine.

(Here's the playlist for the karaoke plus a few additional songs.)

The curse of naming fish

The Sunny was drifting lazily on the waves, a soft wind in the sails, and Luffy, Usopp and Chopper had somehow managed to rope Smoker once again into a round of fishing.

A few hours in, Smoker felt the pull on his fishing line and, with cheering and excited calls from the three kids sitting next to him, began reeling in another catch.

What looked up at him from the other end of the line, however, was not what he'd expected.

Two different sized eyes staring at nothing, a crooked spine shaped like a question mark, one fin ripped, the other missing entirely. It blinked up at him, one eye at a time.

Usopp took a closer look, eyes bulging. "Wait, isn't that–"

Oh HELL no!

Smoker grabbed the ugly abomination and chucked it as far as he could into the opposite direction of where they were sailing.

"WAIT NO, I THINK THAT WAS–" Luffy called.

"NAMI! TURN AROUND, WE NEED TO GO BACK!" Chopper screamed.

Smoker whirled around with wide eyes to face Nami, who was staring at all of them with confusion. "Do NOT turn this ship around, no matter what!"

We all live in a haunted submarine

The Polar Tang was not a haunted vessel. It was a state-of-the-art submarine, custom-engineered, optimized for stealth and speed, reinforced to withstand crushing pressure, and equipped with an autopilot system so precise it could steer through a needle's eye in a hurricane.

It was not haunted.

And yet–

The lights flickered. Just once. Barely enough for anyone to notice. Bepo blinked up from his magazine. The others didn't even glance up from their card game. Until it happened again, and again.

"Okay, that's weird," Shachi muttered.

"Probably just a fuse," Penguin offered, though his voice was uncertain.

The next morning, Bepo found the navigation system had reset itself. They weren't headed for their log pose destination anymore. The new coordinates blinked lazily across the screen: LOSER ISLAND.

Bepo stared at the display for a long time. Then rebooted the system. Then checked the logs. Then pleaded with the system. It didn't help. By the third time it happened, he started avoiding eye contact with the navigation controls entirely.

Then the toilet paper started going soggy. Law banned snacks in the bathroom. No one confessed. No one could explain how it was possible, or why it always felt faintly warm. But it kept happening. No matter where they stored it. Fresh rolls would go in – and come out ever so slightly damp. Every time.

Soon after, a growing shoe crisis emerged. First Shachi lost his left boot. Then Penguin's left sneaker. Then Law's left shoe, too. Always the left. No one ever found them. Bepo, in a panic, began sewing his boots together with string so he wouldn't lose one in his sleep.

By the end of the week, Shachi and Penguin were sleeping in the same bunk.

"Safety in numbers," Shachi whispered. "I heard something last night."

"Me too," Penguin said. "In the vents. Like… squelching."

Bepo began sleeping in his day clothes after all the zippers on their boiler suits started fraying on the same day, same place, halfway through the stitching. Clean tears. As if sliced.

Law did not believe in ghosts. Law believed in anatomy, pharmacology, and the magnetic pull of the Grand Line. Law believed in sabotage and glitches, pranks and very annoying crew members, but not in curses. So when his crew came to him with nervous eyes and tales of midnight howls and misplaced forks and wet footprints leading to nowhere, he told them all to get a grip.

Then he heard it too. Late at night. Quiet. Faint.

Skrrrch. Skrrrch skrrrch.

He checked the vents. They were clean. He checked under his bunk – clean. He woke to find a single wet trail leading across the galley floor. No footprints. Just slime.

And that morning, when he went to brush his teeth, someone – something – had written a word on the mirror: REVENGE.

Written in something slick. Clear. And faintly shimmering.

He checked his own reflection for signs of madness.

It was only just beginning. The slime started showing up in more places. Always on clean, flat surfaces. Always in writing. Always ominous.

REVENGE. JUSTICE. DON'T LOOK INTO THE GARBAGE CHUTE.

No one looked in the garbage chute. Not after Shachi opened it an inch and swore it hissed at him. Jean Bart welded it shut, just to be safe.

Then the thermostat began acting up. Every night at 02:42, the internal temperature spiked. First to thirty-five. Then thirty-eight. Then forty-two degrees.

Bepo nearly passed out from heatstroke. He staggered into Law's office drenched in sweat. "Captain," he panted. "It's forty-two degrees again. Shachi's trying to reset the thermostat, but Penguin's got heat rash and refuses to wear pants. Also, we heard a noise in the vents. Like… chewing."

That same night, the den-den mushi rang. It was the old one. The backup they hadn't used in months. Law answered it anyway.

Static. Then: wet, raspy breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Slow and heavy. No voice.

Law put it back in its drawer and locked it. It rang again an hour later.

The shoes returned – the left ones. Stuck inside the fridge with a single stick of butter. Floating upside-down just outside the observation window. Once, glued to the ceiling directly above Law's chair. Every shoe that vanished reappeared in some new, increasingly distressing location. Penguin started wearing mismatched boots. Shachi stopped wearing shoes entirely. Bepo carved a talisman and wore it on a string around his neck.

Then came the x-ray. It was already loaded in the med bay's slide projector when Bepo turned it on. The skeletal silhouette was unmistakable: snail. A perfect anatomical rendering. Slightly off-center. Just clear enough to make out the oddly shaped eye stalks. The ridges on the shell. The fangs in the soft tissue.

Bepo summoned Law. Law stared at it.

No one had taken it. No one could explain it. No one spoke a word. The next day, another slide appeared. Different angle. Same snail.

Smiling.

Chapter Text

An Eggcellent Discovery

Smoker had faced many indignities in his life. He'd been blasted through buildings, stabbed with a seastone weapon, demoted for insubordination, and forced to sit through strategy meetings with Akainu. But this – this was worse.

Shorts. He was wearing shorts.

Not just any shorts either. Egghead-issued, beach-vacation-core monstrosities that ended a solid few centimeters above what Smoker deemed a respectable knee line. His shirt was somehow worse – some kind of hybrid Hawaiian shirt-hoodie combo. Why did it have a hood? Why did it need one? What function could this serve on a tropical sci-fi nightmare island where the lab was in the sky ? He tugged at the collar like it might suddenly develop sleeves and dignity. It did not.

This was it. This was his descent into Garp-ification. The thought alone made him scowl harder.

And to think, it all started with a blizzard. One minute they were calmly navigating through a winter storm – if "calmly" included Luffy shouting about snow cones while Jimbei tried not to steer them into an iceberg – and the next, Zoro sliced open a damn Warm Eddy. Out of the resulting vortex came a screaming pink-haired girl. Bonney, as it turned out.

Cue chaos. Chopper went overboard – and Luffy followed.

The rest of them barely had time to react before a giant iron shark launched itself out of the water and tried to swallow them – ship and all. The Sunny nearly capsized. Torpedoes, Smoker thought, still faintly incredulous. It had torpedoes. Why did a shark need torpedoes?

The Sunny did capsize then.

Luffy, Chopper, Bonney and Jimbei got separated from the rest. Gone. Just like that. Smoker could still hear Usopp's screaming echoing inside his skull.

They were saved by a giant robot, which grabbed the Sunny and hauled them out of the water like soggy laundry. It was operated by someone calling herself Lilith, one of seven Vegapunks.

Seven. Of course there were seven. Why wouldn't there be seven.

Lilith brought them to Egghead's Labophase, which meant flying up into the sky with anti-gravity powers, because that was a thing now. But not before mandatory wardrobe change, because according to Lilith, their clothes were "not Egghead material."

Zoro and Brook had refused to go inside, volunteering to stay with the Sunny and guard it.

Which left Smoker here.

In shorts.

And it was only day one.

Also, the stairs moved, and the entrance door wasn't actually there – but only from one side.

Inside, Lilith was gone and a crackly voice suddenly blared from above, cheerful and tinny: "Greetings, esteemed guests! I'm Vegapunk Edison!"

They followed Edison's directions with some skepticism, winding their way through corridors of impossible angles, vending machines that tried to scan their teeth, and one hallway that smelled faintly of strawberries and ozon.

And then – chaos. The thing hit like a meteor.

It crashed through the lab, a blur of white and dark skin, fire and wings. A child-sized body – but no child moved like that. Sanji reacted first and promptly got kicked across the room.

"WHAT IS THAT?!" Usopp screamed.

Smoker was already moving, yanking his jitte off his back. "A Seraph," he said grimly.

Nami blinked at him. "You know that thing?"

"Not personally." He parried a blow that dented the floor where he'd been standing. "But I know the project."

Robin raised a brow. "Another secret marine weapon?"

"SSG. Science Group. After the Warlord system got scrapped, they were tasked with building replacements. The Seraphim are the result." Smoker dodged another hit and grimaced. "Pacifista weapons. Enhanced strength, cloned lineage factors. And… devil fruit powers, apparently."

The Seraph turned its head. Its eyes gleamed like polished glass. And then it vanished.

A split-second later, it reappeared mid-air, twisting with absurd speed, ready to strike.

Franky swore. "He has a devil fruit?!"

"Yup," Smoker growled, dragging his jitte upward just in time. The impact nearly dislocated his shoulder.

The Seraph didn't bleed. Didn't grunt. Barely flinched.

"This is like fighting a pacifista with the power of a demon," Nami hissed, hurling a bolt of lightning that barely slowed it down.

Robin summoned her arms to hold the thing in place, but it broke free like they were paper.

It didn't stop.

Smoker gritted his teeth. It was fast. Too fast. And strong enough to break him in half if he slipped.

Suddenly a calm voice rang out across the lab: "That's enough, S-Shark. Stand down and retreat."

A tall figure stepped into view, clad in a dark coat, helmet gleaming.

"I am Vegapunk Shaka," the voice continued, coming from the helmet. "Apologies for the sudden test."

"Test?" Sanji groaned from a crater in the wall. "You're lucky I don't test my foot up your–"

"Sanji," Robin said quietly.

Shaka looked down at them all. "You were brought here because there is something you must understand. About the world we live in."

None of them moved, but Smoker's grip remained tense around the handle of his jitte. Still, they listened.

Shaka explained. Not everything – just enough to make Smoker's stomach turn. The Void Century. The Great Kingdom. The rise of the 20 Nations. The Buster Call on Ohara. The silence enforced by blood and fire. And – unexpectedly – hope.

"The books survived," Shaka said. "The scholars of Ohara protected them until the end and the giants of Elbaph recovered them. That knowledge is now safe."

The words hung in the sterile air of the lab.

Robin didn't speak, but Smoker noticed the slight shift in her stance. The tightness in her fingers eased, just slightly. Her lashes lowered – almost like she needed a moment to blink something back.

Smoker looked down, then back at his sister. It wasn't just data that had survived. It was the truth. It was everything people like Robin – and Olvia, Clover and Saul, and all those nameless scholars – had fought for. The world government had burned Ohara. Had tried to wipe its legacy from the map – and failed.

Even a buster call hadn't erased the truth.

The most elaborate Family Feud

Shaka led the group down corridor after corridor, taking turns at seemingly random points because as hard as Smoker tried, he couldn't make sense of where they were going.

"Soooo…" Usopp began, wringing his hands while jogging up to Shaka. "You're, like, a robot?"

Shaka looked over at him. "Not exactly. I'm still partially human. As the first satellite I was somewhat of a prototype. Compared to the others I'm more organic – like a cyborg."

Usopp hummed in thought, putting a hand to his chin. "So you could be related to someone," he mused to himself.

Nami walked up and next to Usopp. "You noticed it too, right?"

Usopp startled for a second. "Oh, yeah. It's pretty obvious if you ask me."

Smoker, watching the two whisper between each other, sighed. Then he – as quietly as possible – snuck up behind them and put a hand on each of their shoulders, making them squeak in surprise. "Care to share with the rest?"

Usopp stuttered around while Nami regained some kind of composure. "Well, we were just thinking – Usopp, tell him what we thought!"

Usopp gasped at her, betrayal clear on his face. "Uhhhh, yes. So we, uh, we noticed that maybe Shaka is Zoro's long lost brother?"

This caught everyone's attention. Shaka turned around and if a helmet could express that specific kind of disappointment it would have shown that exact look.

Robin chuckled. "Now that you pointed it out I can't unsee it."

Smoker pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply and long-suffering. "He just said he's a cyborg created by Vegapunk, there is no way he's related to Zoro."

Nami pointed over at Shaka. "Yeah, but you can't deny the resemblance!"

Shaka, now being the center of attention, pitched in. "I can assure you, I'm most certainly not related to any of your crew."

"See?" Smoker said, crossing his arms.

"But we could run a test if it'll put your mind at ease," Shaka added helpfully.

Smoker glared at him with a silent rage that only someone who knew they'd lost, but was still upset, could muster. 

Nami and Usopp cheered in unison.

"If that mosshead has any more relatives I don't know about, I'm gonna kill him," Sanji muttered, still upset about the whole cousin fiasco. 

Shaka clapped his hands together. "Alright, we'll check once we are at the control room. Who's the one you said is related to me?"

"Zoro, our green-haired sword fighter. He stayed behind on the Sunny though," Nami said.

Usopp perked up. "Yeah but we got Smoker here, he's his cousin. That works too, right?"

Shaka nodded. "Yes, that should work as well."

Smoker groaned. Why did it always have to be him. Why couldn't one of the others have a secret relative for once. Like Brook. Or Franky. Sanji had enough shitty siblings so he was out. Nami maybe?

While Smoker mentally blamed the others, Shaka led them down some more corridors and into a large open room, filled to the brim with machinery, screens and other science stuff.

They were introduced to two more satellites, Edison and Pythagoras, and also got a more official introduction for Lilith.

After having observed Luffy on the surveillance screen and Shaka explaining more of the technology on Egghead, the group decided to wait in the monitor room for Luffy to join them.

Just as Smoker had sat down on a nearby bench, having successfully evaded the potential family extension, he heard Usopp's excited voice.

"So now we can check if Shaka is related to Zoro, right?"

Smoker's will to live crumbled before his eyes and he was very seriously considering to just dissolve into a cloud of smoke and leave. 

Before he could do that, however, Nami came over and dragged him off of the bench and over to some kind of apparatus where Shaka was already waiting.

Robin gave him a soft but sinister smile. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

Smoker gave her a deadpan stare. "Traitor," he grumbled. 

Shaka looked sympathetic, even with his helmet face. "It won't hurt, don't worry."

"Do I look like I'd car- OW," Smoker flinched back as Shaka surprise-stabbed him in the arm with a needle, taking a bit of blood before returning to the machine behind him.

Usopp was about to say something but he was silenced by a withering glare from a very murderous logia-user.

Shaka pressed some buttons and typed some more on the keyboard. 

"Huh, that's odd…" Shaka mumbled, tilting his head in confusion.

Usopp threw a fist in the air. "HAH! I KNEW IT!"

Oh no. Smoker hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Well," Shaka began, turning the screen over to Smoker, "I'm not related to you, but…"

Smoker stared at the screen in absolute horror.

Nami walked over, taking a look herself. "What is it? It can't be that– oh… oh no…" 

She looked at Smoker with pure compassion, softly patting his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she said, shedding a singular tear.

Usopp, whose victory dance had quickly stopped after seeing her reaction, came over as well to see what they were talking about. His eyes went wide and he staggered back, eyes flicking between Smoker and the picture on the screen.

Because right there, in bold green letters stood the word "Match found" with a picture of none other than Sir Crocodile, ex-warlord, Sand King and co-founder of Cross Guild.

Smoker had not moved an inch still, staring at the one person whose face he never wanted to ever see again. Especially not like this.

And to make matters worse, underneath the picture was another sentence.

Possible relation: Uncle

Result certainty: 99%

Smoker looked up, eyes unfocused and mind somewhere in the far distance. "Why do I have to suffer this way," he mumbled to himself.

"Oh," was all Robin said, her face unreadable.

Sanji leaned over to look as well. "AHAHAHA, I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH SHITTY RELA–" was all he could get out before Smoker punched him through the nearest wall.

His shock was slowly beginning to morph into anger because why the hell did that shitty sandguy have to be his uncle!

Smoker took a deep breath, fumbled with his lighter and proceeded to light three cigars at once. Not even the Five Elders could stop him from smoking right now.

"Does that mean Alabasta was a big family feud?" Robin asked into the silence that had settled after the initial shock had worn off.

Smoker's eyebrow ticked and he bit down hard on his cigars. "What do you mean?" he gritted out between his teeth.

"Well…" she began, putting a hand to her chin, "if Sir Crocodile is your uncle, it also makes Luffy your cousin."

"OH HELL NO!" Smoker shouted before pressing his hands over his face.

Robin continued unbothered. "Which means at one point your uncle had his two nephews and his son as hostages in a cage while working with his nephew's half-sister."

"Only to get his ass kicked by said son later," Nami pitched in proudly.

That's it, Smoker decided. He had had enough, he didn't want this anymore, someone please wake him from this fever dream.

He let out a breath and stared at the ceiling in absolute defeat. "Please tell me that's it. If anyone else turns out to be related to me in any form I can – and will – drown myself."

"Welcome to the club," Sanji said, pieces of wall still clinging to his hawaii shirt.

— a little while later —

After a few fights against CP0 and the subsequent siege of the Labophase, the Strawhats had finally managed to reunite with their captain as well as Brook and Zoro, who had been waiting on the Sunny until they were attacked by Rob Lucci and Kaku. 

Their new mission now was to find Vegapunk.

"Luffy, you stay with your two cousins so they don't get lost!" Nami ordered as everyone began splitting into groups.

Luffy looked over to her in confusion, then at Smoker and Zoro, the only ones left because of their orientational challenges. "Wait, cousins??"

Zoro attempted to ask a question but Nami had already departed with the rest of her team, leaving Luffy, Zoro and Smoker alone.

Smoker sighed deeply. 

Sunlight

They'd barely split from the group when Robin stepped to the side and touched Smoker's arm. "Walk with me – just for a minute."

Smoker didn't question it. There was something about the look in her eyes – serious, quiet, as if she'd been holding something in for too long.

She led him past the glowing corridors and into a quiet maintenance alcove, shielded from the flickering lights and Vegapunk's surveillance. Just a wall of wires, faint hums, and the low rhythm of Egghead's machines. Then Robin turned to him.

"You should know," she said. "Before the government acts again. Before they try to silence us."

Smoker crossed his arms. "This about the bounty?"

"In part," Robin nodded. "Your name – Nico Tine."

He snorted. "Didn't pick it."

"I know," she said. "But it's yours by blood – the Nico part at least." She took a breath. "Do you remember what Vegapunk said, when we watched Luffy fight Lucci? About the gum-gum fruit?"

"That it doesn't exist," Smoker said slowly. "And Luffy… has some god's power."

Robin gave a small smile. "Sun God Nika. The Warrior of Liberation."

Smoker didn't reply, but his brows knit.

"Another word for sunlight," Robin continued softly, "is nikkō."

"... Similar to Nico," Smoker muttered, catching on.

She nodded. "It's not a coincidence."

A pause.

"I've been tracing our name since Ohara," Robin said. "And I believe… the Nico family carried knowledge. Stories. Pieces of the lost kingdom. Of Nika in particular. Perhaps we were record-keepers once, before the world government buried the truth."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I don't know," Robin admitted. "Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. I don't believe in fate – I believe in history. And history repeats itself when it's forgotten. The world government has seen Luffy's powers. There's a reason you and I are here, at his side – they already see us as a threat, but now, perhaps, more than ever."

Smoker frowned, looking away. "My– our mother… she vanished when I was a kid. Never saw her again."

Robin's voice turned gentle. "She wanted to protect you. Like she tried with me."

They stood in silence for a moment. Two people shaped by the same name.

"The government won't see you as just a pirate," Robin said. "You're a Nico now. And they know what that name might mean."

Smoker exhaled, low and long. "Great."

Robin smiled faintly. "Welcome to the club." 

She turned to go, but paused at the threshold when Smoker remembered a name he'd heard last on Alabasta, over two years ago.

"Hey," he called after her. "Miss All Sunday."

Robin looked back, amused.

"You chose that name, didn't you?"

She tilted her head. "Of course." Robin smiled again, this time wider. "Some also call me Light of the Revolution. It's always been in our blood."

And with that, she slipped away. Smoker stayed a moment longer.

Nikkō, huh?

Operation: Fight And Ignore Logic (F.A.I.L.)

Vegapunk was missing. The crew had split up to search for him – Strawhats, satellites, chaos divided evenly. Smoker was, technically, part of that search. He was also, technically, lost.

Not that he'd ever admit that. Robin had dragged him off down a corridor for a "quick word," and then promptly disappeared, leaving him behind. Not his fault. Entirely Robin's.

So now he was wandering the gleaming, way-too-white halls of the lab, trying to find the control room and not look like he was trying to find the control room. He'd been on battlefields less confusing than this place.

The floor gave a brief jolt under his boots. Then again.

"Great," Smoker muttered, quickening his pace. "Something went wrong. Again."

The next jolt was a little more dramatic. A wall at the end of the hallway collapsed in a spray of dust and scorched metal, and out stepped two very familiar figures engaged in a very familiar activity: Luffy and Zoro, mid-brawl with two very large enemies.

The enemies in question had laser beams for mouths and black wings on their backs – S-Bear and S-Hawk.

Smoker barely glanced at the fight. They looked fine. Zoro had that very specific squint he only got when he was enjoying himself, and Luffy was laughing like he was on a joyride. No one was bleeding yet. It wasn't urgent.

He jogged past them into the half-functional control room, where Shaka stood over the central console, the remaining monitors crackling with static and electrical damage.

"Why aren't those Seraphim obeying you?" Smoker asked, jerking a thumb toward the chaos behind him.

Shaka hesitated for just long enough to make it worse. "Because there's a traitor. One of the satellites."

Smoker exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it. "Perfect."

The room rumbled again. Behind him, Zoro's voice rang out – "Wait until the flame on their back goes out!" – followed by the distinctive clang of swords meeting genetically engineered death-machine. Smoker cast a glance back just in time to see Zoro deflect a laser blast with an annoyed grunt.

Luffy had the raw power, Zoro had the strategy. Together, they were more than enough to defeat two Seraphim. Even if they considered taking Lucci up on his suggestion to let him and Kaku out of their cuffs. Which they probably would. Smoker didn't know if that would be the dumbest or most effective thing they did today.

He turned back to Shaka. "You said traitor. That mean you have an idea where Vegapunk is?"

Shaka straightened. "I do. I believe he's in the old basement storage level. Possibly taken there against his will."

Smoker nodded once. "Then we're going."

And so he followed Shaka through corridor after corridor, down flights of stairs and through at least three doors that opened with voice commands he was certain weren't in any known language.

Internally, he allowed himself a grim little nod of satisfaction. He'd known it. The lab was a maze. A stupid, sci-fi maze filled with blinding lights, moving walls, and the occasional surprise vacuum seal. And he'd followed Shaka into it willingly. Which, now that he was thinking about it, wasn't exactly smart. Shaka said he knew where Vegapunk was. But what if he was lying? What if he was the traitor?

Smoker narrowed his eyes slightly. It would be a good move – separate one of the stronger crew members, lure him somewhere isolated. Maybe into one of those weird anti-gravity test chambers. Fry him with lasers. Frame the Seraphim. Boom. One less problem for the traitor to deal with.

And Smoker was alone . No backup. No way to signal the others. Just Shaka and his calm, neutral voice leading him deeper and deeper into–

"This way," Shaka said politely, gesturing to another damn hallway. Smoker grimaced and followed.

One final corridor later, and the door ahead hissed open. Cold air greeted them. A lower-level lab, dimly lit, quiet – and lined with glass cells.

Inside the cells–

Smoker's eyes narrowed.

CP agents. Several of them, all looking like they'd been in there for weeks – bruised, hungry, and instantly banging on the glass the moment they saw Shaka.

"Let us out!" one shouted. "Please! You don't know what she's–!"

Smoker turned to the next cell. There, slumped on the floor, was Vegapunk. Hair wild, coat wrinkled, and very much not in control of anything.

So. Shaka wasn't the traitor. Smoker nodded once, very sagely, like he'd never doubted it for even a second.

"I'll start the unlock sequence," Shaka said, stepping toward the panel.

"Wait–" Vegapunk shot to his feet. "It's not safe! There was–!"

CLACK.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs behind them. Smoker turned just as a gun cocked.

Crack–!

He didn't think – just moved. Jitte up, intercepting the bullet that had been aimed squarely at Shaka's head. The force of it vibrated down his arms. Both men spun around. And there she was.

York. Smiling sweetly. Holding a smoking gun.

"Oops," she said. "You weren't supposed to block that."

— one captured York later —

The control room looked like a battlefield, but instead of smoke and blood, it was strewn with food wrappers and half-chewed takoyaki. And only a little blood. Everyone was inhaling whatever they could get their hands on. Even Brook was making disturbing slurping sounds, which Smoker didn't want to think about too hard.

Vegapunk was back, and so was Bonney. York was tied up in the corner, unconscious, drooling on herself. The Seraphim were locked in the basement. Robin was patched up and leaning back against a chair with a blanket over her shoulders. Lucci and Kaku sat handcuffed a few feet away, glaring at everything like cats left out in the rain.

They were, for the moment, alive. Unfortunately, they were also stuck.

"Still no response from the dome override," Shaka announced. "Cracking the code that York implemented is going to take a while."

Stussy swept into view, her heels clicking ominously. "We've got company," she said smoothly. "One hundred ships. Around thirty thousand men. And Kizaru."

"… Kizaru?" Sanji repeated slowly, blinking.

"Kizaru," Stussy confirmed.

Smoker did not groan. He did not facepalm. He just calmly lit a fresh cigar and started chewing his burger again, smoke curling from the corner of his mouth as if nothing was wrong.

"Great," he muttered. "The slowest man alive made it here first."

"Well, he is as fast as light if he wants to be," Robin reminded him.

"Oh! It settled!" Nami gasped – one of the needles in the log pose had pinged into place.

Vegapunk peered at it. "Looks like Elbaph."

"Elbaph?!" Luffy shot to his feet so fast he nearly flipped the table. "That's where the giants live!"

"ELBAPH!" Usopp yelled with tears in his eyes.

Franky slammed his hands on the table. "SUPER!"

Robin raised a tired hand. "It is also the island that holds the Ohara archives."

"Oh right," Smoker said, blinking. "That's important too."

Now came the planning. Vegapunk tapped the monitor. "Here's what we do: I'll stay here with Shaka, Edison and Atlas. We'll try to crack York's code and open the dome from the inside."

"Franky and I will go with Luffy and Bonney," said Lilith. "We'll take Vegaforce 01 and get the Sunny to the backside of the Labophase."

"Then we wait until the shields drop," Vegapunk added, "and launch. Vegaforce 01 will carry the Sunny and everyone else straight off the island."

 "Then we execute a Coup de Burst and escape!" Franky concluded.

"... That sounds like it might actually work," Chopper said, amazed.

Smoker exhaled a lungful of smoke and stuffed another half-burger into his mouth. With their history this plan was never going to work – they'd try anyway, because it was their only option.

So the plan went into motion – Luffy, Bonney, Franky, and Lilith went off to move the Sunny with Vegaforce 01. The rest were hunched over screens or tools or snacks. Smoker lit a second cigar, trying not to think about the "thirty-thousand marines" problem and instead focusing on chewing his fries with purpose.

"Contact!" Shaka snapped, pointing at one of the live feed monitors.

The screen flickered. A streak of light broke through the sky and smashed into the Fabiriophase.

"Oh crap," Usopp muttered, nearly dropping his sandwich. "That's Kizaru."

It was. Onscreen, Sentomaru squared off against the admiral in the chaos of lower Egghead. The fight was already underway – laser against axe.

In the same breath, chaos erupted inside the lab. There was a shout – Lucci, moving fast. Smoker saw the blur from the corner of his eye moving towards Vegapunk – when Stussy stepped in.

"No!" someone yelled.

She took the blow meant for Vegapunk. Crumpled.

Zoro moved like lightning. Steel clashed. The fight crashed through the far wall of the lab and tumbled into the outside of the building, Zoro and Lucci now fully engaged.

Smoker swore under his breath. He hadn't even finished his fries.

"Got it!" Edison barked. "We're in! The code–"

The comm crackled.

"Hello?! Hello?! This is Franky – Kizaru's– he's–" Static.

The lights in the lab flickered. And then the wall behind them buckled inward, crushed by sheer pressure. Kizaru appeared inside the lab, calm, humming, fingers glowing with light – aimed straight at Vegapunk.

Smoker moved–

But something bigger moved first. A massive white hand crashed through the roof and grabbed Kizaru like a misbehaving hamster.

Everyone in the lab stared up. Through the torn ceiling stood an enormous, grinning, wild-haired figure in full Gear 5 chaos: Luffy.

He laughed, voice echoing like thunder. "You're not gonna hurt anyone, light guy!"

Kizaru, still weirdly serene, blinked. "I'd appreciate it if you'd just let me do my job."

"No will do!" Luffy grinned – and hurled the admiral off the island like a baseball.

Chapter Text

Horrors beyond human comprehension

"What do you mean Bonney fell down into the Fabiriophase?" Vegapunk furiously called into the receiver of his transponder snail.

Franky's voice crackled when his response came through. "I'm sorry, alright, let me help get her back!"

Smoker stood in the middle of the room, watching the chaos unfold. Mere minutes ago a gigantic white haired Luffy had just grabbed Kizaru and sent the Admiral flying, pacifista kept switching sides and now Atlas wanted to go down to the Fabiriophase herself to deal with that. Not to mention Zoro was off fighting Rob Lucci.

"Atlas, wait! I'm coming with you," the old scientist said, grabbing the transponder snail before following the satellite.

Oh great, the top priority person was going against the plan, what else was new. Smoker sighed, gave a nod to Robin and followed the Vegapunks. 

"Wait, I'll help you."

Vegapunk gave him a confused look before gesturing for Smoker to follow.

"Take me with you as well, I have to help Bonney too!" came another voice and Smoker turned to see Sanji running after them.

They ran down a corridor ending into some sort of garage, a round vehicle with two large wheels at the side standing in the middle.

Vegapunk climbed up and through the bubble-like exterior. "Everyone get in, we don't have much time!"

Smoker raised an eyebrow at Vegapunk's furious expression, but remained silent. He'd had a strange feeling ever since CP0 had shown up on Egghead, but couldn't quite place it. There was more to this whole fiasco, and Bonney seemed to play a bigger role in it than he had anticipated.

The vehicle – called the Vegatank 8 – made its way through the Labophase clouds and below to the Fabiriophase, using its cloud wheels to attach and drive on the artificial clouds surrounding Egghead.

The ground below them was on fire. Over two thirds of the buildings were destroyed, the rest were in immediate danger of burning down. As soon as they were in range, Atlas popped her head out of the Vegatank and called out with all her might.

"TO ALL PACIFISTA, THIS IS AN ORDER FROM VEGAPUNK! EXTERMINATE EVERY MARINE SOLDIER ON THIS ISLAND!"

Smoker's eyes widened, his head snapping over to Atlas. "WHAT? You know over half of these idiots are just following orders!"

Sanji leaned over to him. "We know, but we don't have the luxury of differentiating right now!"

"This is madness," Smoker mumbled to himself, gritting his teeth. 

The pacifista obeyed the order and turned, facing the men they were previously fighting with. Smoker clenched his fists as he watched foot soldiers get eradicated by the war machines that the world government had created for peace keeping.

This was wrong on so many levels. Smoker hoped most of the marines were smart enough to take cover and not engage the pacifista. They stood no chance after all.

Shaking his head, Smoker refocused on his task at hand. Keeping Vegapunk safe and looking for Bonney. The faster they found Bonney the faster they could leave this blasted island.

"I FOUND HER! I'll be back shortly," Sanji called out suddenly and, before anyone could interfere, he jumped out of the Vegatank. 

Smoker growled. "That damn curlybrow. Can't this thing go faster?"

Vegapunk frantically pressed a few buttons. "I'm going as fast as I can!"

Lucky for them it didn't take long before they saw Sanji again, holding Bonney in his arms, followed by two Vice Admirals.

"Shit! SANJI, TAKE COVER!" Smoker called out before shooting a haki-covered fist behind Sanji, hitting one of the marines square in the face before he could attack them. Sanji and Bonney climbed into the Vegatank and they drove off, their path flanked by pacifista like some sort of parade.

"Thanks, chimney!" Sanji said, giving Smoker a thumbs up. 

Smoker was about to call the shitty cook out for that nickname when a sudden shift in the atmosphere made him stop in his tracks. It sent a shiver down his spine and Smoker's eyes widened. For a moment it was quiet, all he could hear was his own heartbeat before he felt someone shake his shoulder.

"-ker! OI SMOKER!" Franky shouted.

Smoker shook his head, the pressure within dissipating somewhat, yet that horrible feeling persisted. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright."

He wasn't. There was a spider in the room, but he didn't know where. Only that it was there. 

Waiting.

Watching.

"Pacifista. I order you to stand down."

They all looked around, confusion written on their faces. "Why did the pacifista stop? Aren't you the highest authority for them?" Franky asked.

Atlas and Vegapunk stayed quiet for a moment before the satellite answered, her voice subdued, eyes unfocused. "There is someone higher than us. The only instance above everything."

"Who the hell could be above you? Didn't you create these things?" Sanji raised his voice.

Smoker shook his head. "Please don't tell me one of them is here."

Atlas only gave him a look of pure despair. "There is no other answer. One of the four elders is here. In person."

Smoker grit his teeth while Franky and Sanji shared a confused look. "The five elders are the highest authority of the world government. I have never seen one, but I heard rumors. We have to leave now !" Smoker explained.

Vegapunk had already driven them halfway up to the Labophase on one of the cloud roads when the ground below them began lighting up.

Sanji's eyes widened. "The hell is that? Some kind of summoning circle?"

Lightning began to crackle all around them, followed by a massive shockwave. Everything went quiet for a moment and Smoker could swear even the colors around them turned to grayscale. Flames burst from the circle, black and green and blue, shooting past the Vegatank and high into the sky.

It made Smoker's hair stand as the flames shifted and curled unnaturally, emitting no heat but pure and utter terror.

A black mass swirled within the circle, undulating and folding into itself before rising again. The inky substance drifted left and right before limb-like spikes shot out around it, forming spidery legs that twisted and turned underneath the amorphous body.

"He's here," Smoker whispered and for the first time he wanted to run . Run away, leave as fast as he could, this was wrong, wrong wrongwrongwrong wrongwrong RUN!

Next to him Sanji was breathing shallowly, eyes wide in panic. Franky hadn't moved an inch, staring at the still forming body below them. The only one who still had some sense about him was Vegapunk – desperately driving away from the eldritch creature.

Slowly the body rose up, creating a figure and horns and arms and a staff and suddenly they were all eye to eye with St. Jay Garcia Saturn of the Five Elders.

Smoker's heartbeat droned in his ears, his body paralyzed by piercing eyes, and this was wrong wrong wrong run run runrunrun RUN!

None of them noticed when Kizaru destroyed the cloud road and Smoker only managed to snap back to reality as he felt himself falling, forced to take his eyes off the monster before them.

And then there was a light. It was warm, bright and suddenly the heavy air became lighter, breathable. Smoker blinked, looking around as he fell and began reaching out with his smoke to catch the others. The Vegatank crashed behind them, only a heap of scrap now, but Smoker had at least managed to prevent injuries to its passengers.

What he didn't prevent though, was landing in front of the massive spider-like form of Saturn. And up close he was even more terrifying than before. Just looking at him made Smoker shiver, his hands scratching his arms to remove the feeling of thousands of tiny legs crawling all over him.

He could barely react when Bonney dashed forward with a blade in hand, stabbing the large elder in the throat.

He wasn't fazed. If anything, his expression morphed into disappointment as he roughly grabbed the little girl and removed the blade. Smoker could only watch with mounting dread while the wound closed immediately, blood vanishing as if Saturn had never been harmed in the first place.

"Jewelry Bonney. How long has it been…" Saturn's voice rang out, cold and distant, yet too close for comfort.

Footsteps approached as more and more Vice Admirals began surrounding them. Some of them Smoker recognized from back in Marineford or the day of the Pirate Festival. He wasn't sure if they recognized him though, as they readied their weapons, pointing them at the Strawhats, at Bonney and at him.

"Don't you dare move, you lowly insects!" the elder ordered, making the marines stop in their tracks. His eyes glowed as his grip around Bonney tightened, making her scream in pain and Smoker could swear he heard several cracks.

"BONNEY!" Sanji screamed before dashing forward, ready to strike Saturn.

An invisible force threw Sanji backwards and Smoker just managed to reach out with a smoke cloud to prevent him from falling into a mountain of rubble. Smoker pulled the cook back to them and inhaled sharply at Sanji's cracked and bleeding head wound.

As much as Smoker wished this was a devil fruit ability he wasn't entirely sure. 

Saturn's gaze went back to the broken looking Bonney as he lifted her higher.

"Marines! Aim at her head."

They obeyed and Smoker couldn't believe it. Did they not feel the same dread? The same wrongness emanating from this creature? Why would anyone want to obey this? Why wouldn't anyone obey it…

No! Smoker shook his head and with it the doubt. This was no time to ask questions. It was a time to act. 

Following Saturn's gaze he noticed Luffy splayed out nearby, his face gaunt and sunken in. He'd reached his limit for that god-like form he used against Kizaru, leaving him vulnerable. And Smoker knew Saturn had come to the same conclusion as the elder raised a spindly leg, planning to impale the Strawhat on his claw.

Not on Franky and Smoker's watch though!

"STRONG RIGHT!" Franky called out, punching Luffy away from the leg's trajectory.

"How interesting. So you're the kind of pirates who stick together," Saturn remarked.

"WHITE VINE!" Smoker followed up, grabbing Luffy and throwing him towards Franky, the latter catching their captain and getting into a protective stance.

"Jewelry Bonney, Strawhat Luffy. Your interference in this was not accounted for, but the coasts are surrounded by my forces. You will not make it off this island alive."

The elder turned slowly, his horrible gaze falling on Vegapunk. 

"Vegapunk, your treason hit us hard. We are thankful for your work, but you will all die here. You will rue the day you stood against the world government and curse yourselves as you die slowly and painfully, one by one. And you, Vegapunk, will be last."

Saturn's grip around Bonney tightened once more, making Sanji call out again. "STOP THIS! WHY ISN'T ANYONE DOING ANYTHING!"

The realization hit Smoker like a cannonball. It wasn't that nobody wouldn't do anything – they couldn't . Smoker tried to move, but his body was frozen, an invisible pressure holding him in place. He looked over, watching the others struggling similarly.

SHIT!

Saturn sighed. "Why do humans always fall victim to the forbidden. What a pathetic race."

Bonney squirmed in his large hand before staring him down with utmost hatred. "YOU KILLED MY FATHER, YOU BASTARD!"

"Oh Kuma? He was born as a Buccaneer, his only role in his miserable life was to be a slave and nothing else."

Smoker choked on his breath. What the hell did that mean? Since when did the world government support slavery? He'd heard of the auction houses on Sabaody and other slave trade rumors, but whenever he'd asked one of his superiors they'd assured it was illegal. And when he went to investigate himself he never found any evidence.

Smoker thought back to his wanted poster. How did they know about this name or his connection to Nico Robin? It couldn't be a coincidence. Had they purposefully left him in the dark? And if they did, what else had they hidden from him? 

Smoker snapped back to reality as he heard several rifles being readied.

Vegapunk cried out. "NO, STOP! SHE'S JUST A CHILD!"

Smoker had so many questions. But first, he had to get free of this damn effect trapping him. He could only helplessly watch as Bonney tried to use her devil fruit ability to free herself – to no avail.

And he had to hear Saturn brag about conducting experiments on infants, having given Bonney her powers when she was just a baby.

"And it's quite ironic that your mother, when she came to Mary Geoise as someone's wife, ended up as one of my drug experiments."

He did WHAT ? Smoker grit his teeth hard enough his jaw muscles began to lock up. This monster was supposed to be one of the leaders of the world government, one of the pinnacles of justice and order.

Yet he was worse than many pirates Smoker had put behind bars in his time.

Vegapunk screamed at the elder. "HOW COULD YOU?? YOU ARE THE SOLE REASON KUMA SUFFERED AND HAD HIS FAMILY TORN APART! HE THREW HIS LIFE AWAY BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Saturn stared down at Vegapunk, his voice filled with disgust. "Look at it from my perspective. Would you care about the life of the ants you step on?"

Saturn raised his hand once more and Smoker tried as hard as he could to will his body to move, but no muscle would obey him. He couldn't do anything. He was useless, but he had to help, there had to be–

A loud explosion caught everyone's attention, even Saturn's. The elder turned slightly.

Then came a transmission from one of the marine soldiers.

Kuma had arrived. The real, actual Kuma that Saturn had declared dead mere minutes ago. And he was on his way here.

More explosions echoed across the island, coming closer and closer, and suddenly Saturn didn't hold a young girl in his hands but a child, maybe ten or twelve years old. And she cried.

And slowly it made sense to Smoker. Why Vegapunk kept calling Bonney a child, how her devil fruit affected not only other people's ages but her own, too, and why she was so desperate and naive.

Bonney was a child.

The marines around them took aim, raising their rifles to shoot a child. How could they? 

Probably the same way they had hunted an eight-year-old Nico Robin.

Smoker grit his teeth. He had to help, he had to stop this, but he couldn't. Damn Saturn and his powers, damn marines and their sheep mentality – how could they justify murdering a little kid?!

Saturn's patience was wearing thin so he dropped Bonney and began raising one of his legs to impale her. Smoker fought against his invisible restraints, tried to get his smoke fruit to work but to no avail. 

The leg came down above Bonney. A dust cloud exploded around them and as it settled Smoker could only stare wide-eyed.

Kuma stood above Bonney, taking the hit meant to kill her, while gently cradling the little girl in his arm. Then he turned, grabbing Saturn's leg with his free hand and pushed the elder back.

And then he punched Saturn square in the face, knocking the spider over and sending it flying through several buildings.

Smoker cheered inwardly. Served the bastard elder right. And finally, finally the hold Saturn had over him vanished and Smoker could move again.

From the rubble rose Saturn once more, rage emanating from him like a poisonous gas. Smoker shared a look with Sanji as they took a protective position next to Kuma and Bonney. Up close Smoker could see the destroyed body of the former warlord, wondering how the hell he was even still alive. Maybe he didn't want to know.

Saturn raised his mauled hand, the extensive damage regenerating quickly like it did before with the stab wound. So, this was definitely beyond a devil fruit's power, awakened or not. He looked over to Sanji. 

"He's going to attack, get ready!"

Sanji opened his mouth, but Saturn charged first, striking at Kuma's back with one of his legs. Smoker let his devil fruit billow out, forming a protective shield around the ex-warlord. Sanji barely managed to kick the leg and change its trajectory, forcing it to slide off of Smoker's shield.

"RADICAL BEAM!" came a shout from behind them before Franky's trademark laser shot a hole clean through Saturn's abdomen. 

There was another laser, but this one far brighter and precise as it hit Franky in retaliation. 

"Shit, FRANKY!" Sanji screamed. 

Smoker watched as the light that had shot the laser began to reform next to Saturn. "Admiral Kizaru. I have a lot of questions for you."

"Vice Admiral Smoker. I'm afraid this has to wait, I have orders at the moment, you know," Kizaru drawled, face impassive as always.

Bonney, still held in her father's arms, had regained some of her composure to turn back into her usual form. "Vegapunk! Papa can't move, I need your help!" 

"I got this!" Atlas shouted, picking Kuma up and beginning to run away.

Saturn watched with growing impatience. "You won't get far. To all units, I hereby order the Buster Call to commence!"

Smoker's eyes widened. Now they were well and truly fucked. 

"WE HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!"

"I'll hold them off, you guys get to the Labo-Stratum! Just follow Atlas," Vegapunk replied, facing the elder and the admiral in front of him.

Smoker grit his teeth as Kizaru ordered the marines to retreat while he and Saturn remained. "I'm not gonna leave you here alone, Vegapunk!"

The scientist looked over at him. "Go help your friends! I know what I'm doing."

Oh how Smoker hated this. Why did everyone have to be so stubborn? With a growl he turned into a smoke cloud, grabbing Franky and Sanji, and flew off, trying to catch up to Atlas. Sanji used the opportunity to call Nami and inform the Sunny group about the Buster Call, much to their displeasure.

As they reached the rocket that could bring them up to the Labophase, Bonney cried out. "We have to get the old man, we can't leave without him!"

Sanji gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry Bonney, I'm not going to leave him behind."

"We can't go back, it would be certain death!" Smoker argued, waving a hand in the direction they came from. "You witnessed first-hand what Saturn is capable of!"

Sanji snapped. "I know! But we also promised to get him off the island!" 

Smoker could only stare in disbelief as Sanji ran off. "Oh for crying out loud – Franky, get the others to the Sunny, I'm making sure the shit cook doesn't get himself killed or worse."

Smoker didn't even wait for an answer before catapulting himself off and after Sanji. 

And like always, all hell broke loose afterwards and nothing went the way they had hoped it would.

Kizaru attacked and destroyed the rocket, forcing Franky's group to fall back down, Saturn stabbed Vegapunk with one of his legs and Luffy was back, laughing his ass off.

Smoker would have been mad that the Strawhat was laughing in a situation like this if the kid hadn't blasted Kizaru through several buildings with one hit. Talk about overpowered awakened devil fruits.

While Saturn was busy with Luffy, Smoker walked over to where Bonney was kneeling next to Vegapunk. It didn't look good. A gaping hole was torn through the scientist's abdomen, bleeding profusely. Smoker had seen his fair share of deadly injuries. Vegapunk only had a few minutes left at best.

And Vegapunk knew it, too. "You have to leave without me, Bonney. I've lived long enough to know that this is it for me."

Light shone brightly behind them and Smoker barely managed to raise his jitte in time to deflect a laser shot from Kizaru's hands. "You again."

"Yes, me. Franky, get Bonney out of here, I'll handle this!" Smoker called over his shoulder, but kept an eye on the admiral.

Sanji joined next to him, a leg raised and ready to fight. "Don't mind if I step in. I have a bone to pick with this one too."

Kizaru looked at the two, expression neutral. "Two against one? A bit unfair, don't you think."

Then the ground began to shake, a rhythm carried across the ground like a frenzied stampede. Several legs trampling whatever got in their way as Saturn returned, this time fully transformed. His eyes were piercing, horribly deformed orbs that stared them all down one by one.

Smoker could hear a faint sizzling sound, like a swarm of bees trapped in a jar. Faint smoke trailed up from where the legs of the elder met the floor.

Poison. Of course.

"Careful, Saturn is covered in poison. Don't touch him if you don't have to!" Smoker called out just in time before the elder struck, legs shooting out like oddly jointed spears.  

"SANJI! Get the grandpa out of here!" Luffy shouted over as they all dodged the attack.

The cook complied, but he wasn't the only one with an eye on Vegapunk. Kizaru apparated in front of Sanji, ready to strike him down with a kick, but his leg met steel instead as Smoker intervened.

Sanji escaped, though Smoker knew Vegapunk was done for anyway. But his focus was the admiral now.

Kizaru sighed and he almost sounded disappointed. "You had so much potential. What is your goal here? Whose side are you on."

Smoker just grit his teeth and grunted as he parried another hit. Then a massive hand caught Kizaru, and Smoker watched with wide eyes as Luffy turned an admiral and one of the elders into pancakes before flipping them around and into the ground.

It was almost comical.

If it wasn't also terrifying how easy Luffy handled them.

While Saturn managed to regenerate and keep fighting, Smoker had lost sight of Kizaru. Hopefully for good.

Then the horror returned. He'd just gotten somewhat used to the oppressive feeling of one elder when suddenly four more summoning circles appeared. This had to be a nightmare. Lightning cracked around them as fire burst from the circles and shockwave after shockwave hit him. 

There was no more fight or flight. There was only fear. Fear and his own thunderous heartbeat as Smoker watched four inky black shapes form into grotesque creatures nobody should have ever witnessed.

The five elders all present. Smoker was sure he didn't need a single finger to tell how many people had ever seen what he saw right now and survived to tell the tale. And then he looked at Luffy, the tiny captain with a straw hat.

And it somehow got easier. Smoker took a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come.

One of the elders – a skeletal horse – dashed off towards the shore, almost as fast as Kizaru himself and that man was as fast as light.

Another elder, a massive birdlike creature, flew off towards the Labophase. Towards the Sunny. 

Shit!

Smoker's head snapped over to Luffy when the Strawhat called over to him. "SMOKEY! PROTECT THE SUNNY! I GOT THIS!"

And Smoker knew he did. Luffy always managed. But the others up with the Sunny didn't know what they might have to deal with.

Smoker nodded and catapulted himself upwards, towards the Labophase and the Frontier Dome.

Saints and Sins

"Is everyone alright?" Smoker asked as he arrived at the Sunny. The massive bird monster Smoker had been following had veered off in a different direction, leaving the Sunny alone for now.

"So far yes, Robin is doing better and everyone is here except for Jimbei and Zoro," Nami called over to him, having taken the lead of the crew for now. "What the hell is happening below us?"

Smoker hovered above the deck, looking around for any threats, jitte at the ready, "Hell is happening. Saint Saturn summoned the other four Elders, don't ask me how, but we've got to leave now!"

If chaos hadn't broken out already this would have done it. Brook and Usopp began screaming, Nami and Robin stood with wide eyes before calling Jimbei to hurry up and get back. 

Smoker grit his teeth. An admiral they could have handled, but all five elders at once? He just hoped Luffy's luck hadn't decided to run out today.

"WHAT IS THAT?!" someone shouted and all heads snapped over to the edge of the clouds. 

A black spider leg rose up from below, over the edge, before smashing down, hauling an even larger body up from the depths. More legs followed, the sharp claws at each end piercing the clouds of the Labophase.

Smoker felt a presence pressing down on him once more. It sent chills down his spine and he could feel his will begin to crumble underneath the heel of absolute terror.

Slowly the body of Saint Saturn began creeping over the edge before rising up to his full height, towering over the Sunny. The elder's eyes landed on Smoker, boring through him like lasers, trying to smother any spark of resistance he had before they moved to another member of the Strawhats.

The elder's voice echoed across the Labophase, "Nico Robin. The devil child that escaped Akainu."

Everyone stood still, not daring to move a muscle.

"It seems I have to waste my own time ensuring your demise. I'll make it as painful as I can," Saint Saturn spoke, voice calm and full of authority like a God speaking to ants.

"EVERYONE PROTECT ROBIN!" Nami screamed when Saturn began to move and snapped Smoker out of his daze.

He had to act now, protect his sister and crew! Biting down on his cigars, Smoker catapulted himself at the elder, jitte meeting claw mid-air. 

Saturn raised an eyebrow. "You again. So I did see correctly before, you are the devil child's brother."

Smoker grit his teeth, his muscles aching as he held down the spider leg. "Who cares about that! I won't let you hurt anyone!"

Dark lightning sparks surrounded them, forcing Smoker to retreat. He flew in an arc around Saturn, swinging his jitte at the massive spider body again and again. The elder turned, unfazed by the attacks. "I should have ordered them to kill you too, not just your father. You are a criminal by blood after all."

"You what–" Smoker stopped mid attack, eyes unfocused. No, his father had died of a sickness, he wasn't… he couldn't have been murdered. It didn't make any sense. 

Smoke began curling around him, swirling in unnatural patterns, solidifying and dissolving irregularly. Saturn raised one of his legs high above him.

"Your father was in league with Ohara and had to pay for his crimes. You're only alive because we let you."

There was no emotion in the elder's voice, only apathy and an almost irritated boredom, as if deciding about life and death was a mere inconvenience. "And after everything we did to keep you away from all this. This experiment has come to an end now."

An explosion brought Smoker back to reality, the smoke that had begun to surround him dissipated with the shockwave. Saturn staggered back as a giant plant began enveloping his body.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU SPIDER FREAK!" Usopp shouted, slingshot still raised at the elder, ready for another shot.

Static filled the air when dark clouds formed above Saturn just as he ripped the plant away. Nami stared him down, clima tact ready, electricity crackling around it. "Don't you dare!"

Lightning flashed, followed by rumbling thunder as Nami swung her weapon down, hitting Saturn with Thunder Tempo.

Smoker shook his head. Screw the past, he'd never cared about it so why should he start now. His grip on his jitte tightened as he shot towards the elder once more. 

With a sick crunch the seastone tip embedded itself into the space between Saturn's eyes. The elder choked as the seastone's effect took hold, forcing him down. His eyes were wild, looking around frantically before settling on Smoker.

A horrible feeling crawled up Smokers back as he held the elder's gaze, before an invisible power hit him. It felt like his head was splitting apart, ripping him to pieces from the inside. He was catapulted back, almost crashing into the Sunny if Robin hadn't caught him by creating a net with her devil fruit ability.

Saturn rose up once more, pulling the jitte from his head with a bored expression. The wound disappeared immediately. 

Chopper ran over to where Smoker had landed, whipping out his first aid kit, "Stop moving so much!"

Smoker groaned, holding a hand against his head, blood flowing out between his fingers. "I got this," he growled, trying to get up.

"No you don't! Let the others handle it, they are strong too," Chopper admonished him while disinfecting Smoker's head wound, making the marine hiss.

Usopp and Nami continued to keep Saturn busy while Brook froze the elder's legs in place, yet no attack seemed to really have an effect. Something caught the elder's attention and for a moment he stopped fighting.

Chopper finished his first aid and Smoker was about to join the battle once more when he heard Vegapunk's transmission.

["If my data is correct, a few days from now a massive earthquake will hit the entire world and the water level will rise one meter!"]

Smoker listened intently. How did Vegapunk know this would happen? Did the elders know about it too? Maybe it had something to do with their desire to kill Vegapunk.

["The earthquake cannot be called a natural phenomenon!"]

Smoker looked over to Saturn, the elder now entirely focused on the transmission as he ignored the attacks thrown at him.  

"Vegapunk. Not another word! Kizaru, take care of these pests!" he growled, rushing past the Strawhats and off to the laboratory. 

Nami sank down onto the ground, breathing heavily. "He's gone. Thank the seas."

"We don't have time for a break! Get the ship ready!" Lilith called out as she kept fixing the damage the Sunny had taken.

Smoker stood, collecting his jitte with a smoke trail before jogging over to the rest. "Zoro and Jimbei are still not back, should I go look for them?"

"No, they can handle themselves. Jimbei would call me if they needed reinforcements," Nami replied. They both turned their heads as Vegapunk's transmission continued.

["Against the world government's laws I studied the void century. With the notes of another group of archeologists I discovered as much as I could about this missing part of history."]

Brook and Usopp were working at the front of the ship when something caught their attention. "EVERYONE, LOOK!"

Smoker looked over the ship's railing to where Usopp was pointing. The clouds at the edge of the Labophase had begun to extend further out, forming a ramp of sorts.

"This must be what Edison had planned!" Brook exclaimed, clapping his bony hands together.

Usopp nodded. "Yeah! With that we should be able to safely jump right into the ocean."

Smoker sighed, relieved. The Strawhats' luck hadn't run out yet.

["I will tell you all the results I have gathered, even if it isn't much in comparison. This story begins with one single person, born 900 years ago. The first pirate who sailed the seas. Joy Boy!"]

Endgame

The Labophase was on fire. Not literally – not yet – but the chaos had settled into that thick, tense quiet that came just before another wave of destruction. Debris floated in the artificial gravity, alarms still blaring somewhere overhead. The air smelled like scorched metal and ozone. Footsteps approached fast from the side. Smoker turned just as Jimbei emerged from the smoke, Zoro slung over one shoulder, sword still gripped loosely in one hand.

"Found him," Jimbei said gruffly, lowering Zoro to the ground.

Zoro grunted as he stood, barely winded despite the blood on his coat. "Lucci's not getting back up."

Before anyone could respond, a golden flicker danced across the far side of the battlefield. Light pooled at the edge of the ramp. The air shifted. A shape formed inside the glow, calm, composed, hands still in his pockets.

"He's back," Lilith said, eyes wide.

Zoro had already tensed, ready to lunge, haki crackling faintly in the air, but someone else moved first.

Smoker.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, the end of his jitte dragging across the floor with a soft hiss of smoke. He lit a cigar with the other hand, even as Kizaru tilted his head in mild surprise.

"Well, well," Kizaru said, smiling like someone who'd seen it all before. "Look who came crawling out of the gray zone."

Smoker said nothing.

Kizaru gave a short, lazy laugh."I take it you're leaving SWORD behind, then. What a shame. You could've handed them over much earlier, made this clean. But I guess you're not interested in justice anymore, are you? I have my orders, Smoker. The Strawhats can't leave this island."

This was the moment. The moment it could've gone either way.

Smoker stood still, the cigar burning quietly between his teeth. For a second, the marine inside him wavered. Not because he doubted the Strawhats, but because he remembered what the uniform had once meant. Order. Protection. Structure. Justice.

He thought of the reports he wasn't supposed to read. The whispers about Ohara. The silencing of survivors. The knowledge of what was about to happen here, too, on Egghead – a clean sweep, like nothing had ever existed. Wiped off the records, never to be mentioned again – because there would be no survivors left who could remember.

He thought of Alabasta. Dressrosa. Fishman Island. Wano. Of how the marines had looked away every time. But the Strawhats hadn't. They didn't turn away. They didn't wait. They acted.

He thought of Robin, half-sister by blood but full family by bond. Of Chopper's quiet optimism. Of Zoro's undying devotion to his captain and his crew. Of Luffy, who never once asked him to pick a side, just kept inviting him to exist beside them and find his own truth.

He'd followed them too long to lie to himself now. They were good. They followed a kind of justice that Smoker had never experienced with the marines. A justice he could agree with.

The world government wasn't justice. It was corruption, lies, and death.

Smoker took the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a slow trail of smoke. Then he squared his shoulders, turned his eyes on Kizaru, and said, calm and clear: "You'll have to get through me first."

Kizaru sighed, more disappointed than surprised. "Ahhh… what a waste."

His expression never changed. Casual. Apathetic. He didn't move so much as flicker, a shimmer in the air, and then he was gone.

Smoker barely raised his jitte in time, coated in haki, the impact slamming down with enough force to crack the ground beneath them. He dug in, teeth clenched, smoke billowing instinctively from his arms and shoulders.

"Get going!" he barked over his shoulder.

The Strawhats hesitated for a beat.

Then Zoro gave a single nod. "Don't die," he said – simple, like a promise – and took off. The others followed, streaks of color against smoke and rubble as they vanished.

Smoker didn't take his eyes off the admiral.

Kizaru turned into his light form and reappeared a few meters away, hands in his pockets. "You always did try to punch above your rank."

Another flash. Another strike. Smoker blocked again, but barely. Kizaru was faster than fast. As fast as actual fucking light.

Smoker pushed forward when the admiral's momentum shifted, trying to drive his jitte through the light-form, but it passed straight through, haki coat, seastone tip and all, like trying to cut sunlight with a blade.

He realized the trap a second too late. Pain seared through his shoulder as a laser burst from Kizaru's hand and tore clean through. Smoker staggered back, teeth gritted, blood misting into the air along with the smoke. His jitte swung in a defensive arc as he retreated several meters.

Kizaru tilted his head. "You know you can't win this. Even with your own logia powers." He smiled that lazy, infuriating smile. "You're still just smoke, Smoker. I'm light."

Kizaru pressed the advantage. He was everywhere at once – blinding arcs of light, pinpoint lasers, strikes that shimmered into existence faster than thought. Smoker blocked what he could, countered when he sensed the flash just early enough to react. But it wasn't enough. The faster they moved, the hotter the air grew. Smoke clung to every scorched surface, thickening in layers. It twisted unnaturally in the still air, not rising, but coiling.

Smoker grit his teeth. Focused on the movement around him. The smoke curled around his arms, his legs, condensed, sharpened, taking shape.

Kizaru blinked in again – too fast, almost – but this time, Smoker caught him. A band of smoke snapped tight around the admiral's midsection, reinforced with haki. Kizaru's eyes widened slightly and then the world slammed downward as Smoker drove both of them into the ground like a meteor. The impact shattered the platform.

Kizaru vanished in a blink of light, reforming above the rubble. Smoker staggered to his feet. They clashed again, and again. Kizaru formed his light blade mid-motion and brought it down in a devastating arc.

It sliced through the jitte. It sliced into Smoker's side. He dropped. Dust and smoke swirled around him as he hit the wreckage, vision flashing white. His fingers twitched in the rubble.

Kizaru didn't even approach, just turned away, lazily, as if the fight had concluded. As if he hadn't been in danger for even a moment. Bored expression still on his face.

Smoker's lungs burned and blood filled his mouth. He spit it out. Then, somehow, pushed to his knees.

"No," he growled. "Not… yet."

Kizaru paused, just long enough to glance back.

Smoker's voice was hoarse, but steady. "You're right. I can't beat the speed of light." The air crackled. "I don't need to."

Smoke spiraled around him, thicker than before, black and blistering, molten at the edges. He stood with effort, his silhouette trembling in the pressure.

"Do you know what a pyroclastic flow is, Admiral?"

The sky roared. Lightning cracked. And Smoker exploded.

A towering column of smoke and ash tore into the sky, rising higher than the Labophase dome. The shockwave thundered outward, swallowing sound, light, air.

Kizaru's light flickered for the first time. Not from movement, but from disruption. He turned, startled. And fear – actual, honest fear – crossed his face.

Too late. The plume collapsed.

A tidal wave of superheated smoke surged outward, volcanic and all-consuming. The sunlight above vanished. The artificial lights below dimmed. And in the center of it all, Smoker surged – not controlling the smoke, not shaping it, but being it.

For one moment, there was nothing but heat. No weight. No shape. No sound. Smoker didn't have a body. He wasn't a body. He was movement. Pressure. Heat and ash and power, stretching high above the Labophase like a volcanic storm cloud. His awareness rippled outward with the smoke, faster than thought, faster than instinct. It was intoxicating. He could feel the metal warping under his reach. Could taste the static. Could sense the shift of air currents as they tried to escape his grasp.

He could stay here forever, he thought.

But no, he had a goal. An enemy. Kizaru.

The admiral was almost completely surrounded, nowhere to go, nowhere to teleport to. But instead of fleeing, he did something Smoker didn't expect. He stopped all movement.

Kizaru hovered in the air, suspended inside a glowing orb – a miniature sun, pulsing, radiating heat and brilliance. Not moving. Not zigzagging. Just burning.

Smoker didn't have eyes, not in this form, but if he had, he knew he wouldn't be able to look at it. The brightness alone would have seared his retinas in an instant. The light wasn't an attack. It was a shield, a last resort. A star of defense burning outward in all directions, trying to force the smoke back. Smoker felt the edges of himself sizzling, burning away at the contact points. The heat scoured through his form like friction in a thundercloud. His body – if he even had one now – ached.

But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

If Kizaru broke through, there'd be no second chance. Smoker could already feel the energy bleeding from him, each second more smoke than man, more ash than muscle. So he tightened his grip. Compressed the pressure. More. Hotter. Denser.

He didn't need to be as fast as light, he just needed to be an absence of it.

Lightning crackled through the cloud, white-hot filaments arcing in every direction. Kizaru's star wavered under the weight of it. Then surged again, brighter than ever, trying to break free, to blast a hole through the encroaching death.

Smoker screamed into the pressure. Not from pain, but from refusal.

No. Not this time.

His smoke surged again, doubled down, layered, molten and roaring. And finally–

A crack. A rupture. A weakness in the sphere of light. Smoker felt it. Pushed through it.

The smoke collapsed inward like a tidal wave – and swallowed the star whole.

Chapter Text

The world was falling apart.

Robin stood on the scorched ground of Labophase, just outside the shattered edge of the upper level. The battlefield stretched far below, torn and trembling. In the near distance, three of the Elders loomed – grotesque and monstrous, their forms defying every known rule of devil fruit logic. Chaos churned at their feet as Luffy clashed with them all at once, his rubber form twisting, expanding, snapping with impossible momentum. The air was charged. Tense. And then it shifted again. A tremor, a change in pressure.

Robin turned, slowly, like the air itself warned her to do it gently. Behind them, a plume of smoke was rising.

Not just smoke – a column of dark-hot ash. Ash and heat and pressure, crackling with sparks. A volcano that had forgotten the ground and reached for the sky instead.

"... Is that from Smoker?" Usopp whispered.

The plume churned as it climbed, black at the core, glowing with molten heat at the edges. The sky dimmed as it rose, the sun swallowed, the battlefield bathed in red shadow. Even from a distance, the pressure was suffocating. Robin's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the static on her tongue.

A shockwave struck them seconds later, delayed, as if the plume had punched the atmosphere. The ground vibrated beneath their feet. Chopper stumbled, and Robin grabbed his arm, steadying him.

Brook clutched his helmet, trying to keep it from flying off. "That's… unnatural."

"No. This is the opposite," Nami said tightly, eyes wide, hair tangled by wind. "That's a natural disaster."

Usopp's jaw dropped. "Since when can he do that?!"

No one had an answer.

Brook adjusted the grip on his cane. "Should we… still be standing this close?"

Another gust slammed into them, not explosive, but pulling them in. The kind of wind that sucked in rather than blew out. Even the air around them was being drawn toward the heart of the ash storm.

Robin looked at the plume again. It wasn't stopping. It was thickening. Turning. Becoming denser, darker. Swallowing every photon of light. She could see lightning inside it now, branching and twisting like veins of a dying fire.

And then, just as suddenly, it collapsed. The entire column folding inward on itself in a roar, almost like a battle cry. The sky stayed dim, no beams of light cut the air.

Robin didn't wait. There wasn't much time, not with the Elders still standing – even Luffy and Zoro couldn't hold them off for long.

"Chopper," she said, already stepping forward.

"I'm with you," he answered, voice taut, pack already secured over his shoulders.

"Nami," Robin called, pausing just once to glance back. "Get to the others. Get them to the Sunny. We'll find Smoker."

Nami nodded, determination sharp in her eyes, getting her clima-tact ready. "Be careful."

They turned and ran straight toward where the storm had died.

~*~

They had escaped. Robin still didn't understand how. The Elders, the armada, the admiral. The odds had been against them, but somehow, they'd made it back to the Sunny. Bloodied. Burned. Breathing. And Smoker was with them. 

More or less. He lay in the infirmary now, unconscious. Barely holding shape.

Robin stood by the doorway, arms crossed loosely as she watched Chopper move between shelves and supplies in panicked efficiency. Every few seconds, Smoker's body flickered. Not like the light trails of his usual smoke – no, this was different. His silhouette would waver, shatter into fragments, then dissolve entirely into thick, dark smoke. The air warped with heat around him. It smelled like scorched stone. Like molten air and burned earth. 

Particles clung to him even when he reformed. Faint traces of soot embedded in his skin. Streaks of gray-black in his hair. Every exhale released an ashy, low plume from his mouth, like the earth sighing after an eruption.

Chopper had tried to touch him earlier. He almost burned his hoof. Now, he stood frozen at the foot of the bed, fur bristled, eyes glossy with panic.

"I– I can't help him like this," he whispered. "He's not… he's not staying solid. He's smoke, Robin."

Zoro leaned in from the wall, arms folded. "What if I hold him down?"

"You'd burn," Chopper said immediately.

Zoro huffed. "I've had worse."

"Still not ideal," Nami muttered from the door, next to Robin.

They'd been at this for an hour already. Zoro and Luffy had taken turns moving him earlier – haki-coated arms only, quick passes, no more than a few seconds at a time before the heat became unbearable. The only reason Robin didn't suffer any burns when bringing Smoker to the ship was because she had used her devil fruit and had felt the heat through her sprouting arms instead.

She stepped out and returned five minutes later with Franky, who simply said, "I've got just the thing," and dropped a single seastone shackle on the counter with a dull clunk.

It took all three of them – Zoro, Franky, and Chopper – to get it on Smoker's wrist. The reaction was immediate. The smoke choked once, hard. Then began to thin. Smoker's body solidified fully for the first time since they'd left Egghead. Still charred in places, still bleeding. But solid.

Chopper wiped his eyes and then went into doctor mode.

~*~

Zoro sat slumped on a stool next to the infirmary bed, bandaged where he'd gotten scorched. A transfusion tube ran between his arm and Smoker's.

"XF twins! Or rather… cousins," Usopp had called them earlier, trying to lighten the mood. No one had laughed.

Robin leaned quietly against the wall beside him. "You holding up?" she asked quietly.

Zoro didn't look at her. "This is nothing."

She smiled faintly. "You always say that."

He grunted. "Doesn't mean it's not true."

Chopper emerged minutes later, stethoscope hanging around his neck.

"He's gonna be okay," he said. "It's… gonna take a while, but he'll recover." He rubbed his eyes, sniffled hard.

Robin patted his head gently. "You were very brave, Chopper."

She watched the rise and fall of Smoker's chest and let the strange, heavy relief settle in her bones. Whatever he'd become, however much of him was man or smoke or something else entirely, he would live.

~*~

Smoker woke up to the vague sensation of wrong.

His head hurt, his chest ached, his limbs were heavy, but that was expected. No, it was something else. A deep, internal pressure. Like something pressing down on his spine. Like breathing underwater. It took him a full minute to realize what it was.

"Goddamn–" he rasped. "Seastone?"

He glanced down – bandages, an IV, and a dull black cuff clamped around his wrist. "Oh, come on–"

Before he could even attempt to move, the door burst open.

"You're awake!" It was Chopper. And he was already crying.

Smoker blinked. "I– uh. Yeah?"

"You nearly died! You were smoke for hours! You burned Zoro's arm! You–" Chopper hiccupped. "I couldn't treat you. You were– I couldn't touch you! " 

"Chopper," Smoker said, hoarse but trying, "it's fine. I'm fine. You did good."

The little doctor sniffled and started to carefully remove the IV from Smoker's arm. "You're lying." 

He was, but that wasn't the point.

Smoker nodded toward his wrist. "What's with the damn cuff?"

"Oh! Right!" Chopper wiped his face with his hooves. "You wouldn't stop turning into smoke. We couldn't even carry you to the infirmary properly. Luffy and Zoro kept getting burned even with haki."

"... Okay."

"But now you're awake, and you're normal again, so I'll go get the key! And someone who can actually use it!"

He sprinted out.

Smoker groaned and let his head fall back. He needed a smoke. Badly.

A moment later, the door opened again. Chopper trotted in, flanked by Luffy and Zoro.

"SMOKEYYYY!!" Luffy launched himself forward, narrowly avoiding tripping on Chopper, and slammed face-first into the bed with a rubbery fwump. "You're alive!"

"Obviously," Smoker muttered.

"You were so cool!" Luffy beamed, chin resting on the edge of the mattress. "There was this huge smoke thing and I couldn't see a lot but it was huge and scary and then Kizaru went boom!"

"Boom?"

"I mean. Like. Gone. You smoked him!"

Zoro raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"Right," Luffy said, sitting up. "So, I'm gonna take off the shackle!"

Everyone paused.

Smoker squinted. "You… you know it's seastone, right?"

"Yup!"

"... And that you can't touch it?"

Luffy beamed. "Yup!" He grabbed the key. 

Everyone watched for a long, increasingly uncomfortable minute as Luffy valiantly struggled against the laws of nature.

"Aww– why is it so annoying?!" he whined, shaking his hand out.

Chopper coughed. "Luffy, maybe–"

"No, I've got this."

Another thirty seconds passed. Then Zoro silently plucked the key from Luffy's hand and clicked the shackle open in half a second. The cuff dropped to the floor with a clunk.

Immediately, Smoker puffed into a cloud of dark smoke.

"EEEEEH–"

"SMOKEYY–"

"What the hell–!"

Chopper and Luffy shrieked in sync and leapt backward.

Smoker reformed a moment later, shakily, limbs materializing like reverse steam. It took longer than it should have. He blinked down at his hands – darker than before. There were still particles embedded into his skin.

He felt… better without the seastone. But different. He could still feel the pressure under his skin. The plume. It didn't want to stay inside him. And for the first time in years, it took conscious effort to stay in human form.

Shit. That wasn't good.

"What's wrong?" Chopper asked, voice small again.

Smoker opened his mouth–

"Sanji made food!" Luffy shouted, already halfway to the door. "C'mon! We're eating together!"

He grabbed Smoker's arm without asking.

"Wait– Luffy– " Smoker sputtered as he was dragged off the bed, the rest of his thoughts disappearing into sheer disbelief.

Chopper followed with a noise of alarm. "He just woke up–!"

Zoro walked behind them all, looking mildly amused.

"I hate this crew," Smoker muttered. But he let himself be pulled anyway.

— a few days later —

The Sunny rocked gently beneath him. No threats. No explosions. No plumes of divine rage in the sky. Just the open sea. Smoker leaned on the railing, two lit cigars between his teeth – kind of ironic, now that the smoke lived under his skin.

The wind was soft. The laughter behind him was distant. He could hear Chopper arguing with Sanji about vitamin balance, Luffy and Usopp trying to convince Zoro to join them in some kind of game, and Nami yelling at all of them to be quiet for once.

It was absurd. And weirdly… peaceful. Not at all like he'd known in marine bases – paperwork and fluorescent lighting and wondering how many reports you had to write before someone actually read one.

He exhaled slowly, smoke curling into the sea breeze. The haze smelled faintly of scorched rock now. He still wasn't used to that.

On the grassy deck, Robin was sitting with Nami and Brook, combing through maps and logbooks. She glanced up and met his eyes. Gave him a small, genuine smile, soft and knowing. He looked away before it could do something to his chest.

Family. What a word. He had cousins now. A half-sister. And a crew that didn't give a damn how many times he'd threatened to arrest them in the past.

He'd boarded this ship as a spy, to gather information about how they worked as pirates. But over time, he'd realized something so simple it felt like a gut punch: This pirate crew had more sense of justice than the entire ragged government he used to serve.

They helped people. They changed things. Alabasta. Dressrosa. Wano. Egghead. Islands left in flames that the world government had ignored, buried, or caused. But the Strawhats had stayed. Fought. Cared. Made a difference. They'd done what he'd always wanted to do. Not because it was their duty, but simply because it was the right thing to do.

The title of "Vice Admiral" didn't mean anything if it existed under a banner of murder, slavery and lies. If they let men like the Elders rule. If they erased islands and innocent people and the truth.

So yes. Becoming a pirate still sounded strange to his own ears, but if he ever wanted to see the world become something better, it had to be from outside the system that failed it.

Behind him, Luffy shouted, "Smokey! You're on my team for the next round! You comin' or what?!"

Smoker sighed. Whatever the game was, he already knew he was going to lose. He flicked the ash into the sea, turned away from the railing – and towards his crew.

The End.

Post-credit scene

There it was. The familiar, bitter smoke curling in the air. Samantha Calypso peered out from the corner of the Sunny's deck, her eye stalks trembling. She was close – so close . The wind carried the scent of ash and poor life choices, unmistakably Smoker. Her Smoker. Her idiot boy.

She inched forward. Two more inches. One more. If she stretched just a little–

"Hey! What's this gross little thing?"

A sticky, sun-warmed hand closed around her.

Panic. She flailed (unsuccessfully). Screamed (high-pitched). Bit him (he didn't notice).

"I bet we can use this thing as bait!" the boy shouted. The Strawhat.

Another one appeared. Long nose. Laughing. "Ohhh yeah, we'll get a big one with this slimy dude!"

SLIMY DUDE? Excuse you? Samantha Calypso had served in the Marine Navigation Division for over two decades. She had faced sea kings, storms, and budget cuts. She had survived Law's ROOM. And now she would die... as bait. On a fishing hook. Thrown to the abyss, her shell never to be found.

So close. So unfair. But then–

A voice. Rough. Annoyed. Familiar.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Time stopped. Samantha Calypso didn't dare believe it.

Then, a gasp.

"… Samantha Calypso?"

Suddenly, the world shifted. The sticky Strawhat grip was gone. She was safe – no, home. Cradled in the calloused palms of a man who never understood maps, or compasses, or cardinal directions. Her boy. Her beloved disaster.

He stared down at her, blinking once, then twice.

"You found me," he muttered.

The Strawhat boy protested. "Wait, wait– Smoker, is that your pet snail?!"

"She's not a pet," Smoker snapped, already tucking her into the crook of his arm like she belonged there. "She's my navigation officer."

Strawhat looked confused. "You have a what?"

Samantha Calypso didn't care. She nestled into the worn fabric of Smoker's jacket, warm and safe. She had crossed a battlefield. Survived a submarine. Outsmarted a former warlord.

She was Samantha Calypso.

And she had found her boy.

Samantha Calypso will return in The Saga of Nico Tine: Volume II