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Amidst the salt-laced winds of the Grand Line, the kitten drifted like a grain of sand forgotten by the tide, tossed in a barrel.
Outside the barrel roared the deep sea's growl and eternal storms—these sounds twisted into a rope, strangling her three pairs of ears with piercing pain.
Until the barrel crashed onto a gentle shore somewhere in the East Blue, where the sound of waves became like a mother's lullaby, and the fine sand felt soft as breath.
The year Luffy turned six, a barrel washed ashore.
Prying open the lid, he found a drenched kitten curled inside.
It shook itself, revealing three peculiar pairs of ears: crimson fox ears with only one and a half tips remaining, drooping limply in the middle, and tiny deer ears beneath like fragile sprouts.
Luffy grinned, a gap in his teeth showing, "I'll call you Lulu."
Lulu could hear the sigh of the wind through beech trees, the murmurs of fish beneath the waves, even the drunken slurring of a dockhand ten kilometers away.
Countless sounds surged towards her like a rising tide submerging her head. Lulu swam desperately within them.
In this vast ocean of sound, countless voices wove a net, yet she couldn't catch the only one she wanted to hear—the sound of Abel's wings brushing the wind.
She was once called Luna, meaning moon.
Long, long ago, she was a tiny moon born from Abel's soul.
The first person the kitten saw was Abel. Abel excitedly lifted the kitten towards his parents, saying, "I'll call her Luna."
His parents, weary yet gentle, stroked Luna's little head, "Then remember to protect her well. Don't lose your own kitten like we did."
During their wanderings, his parents' wings could cover Abel, and within Abel's wings nestled little Luna. When fleeing, those wings became a cradle, rocking gently to lull Luna to sleep.
Later, Abel's parents...... vanished.
"The Marines took them. Marines are dogs," Abel said, eyes red.
So Luna learned to hate Marines too.
Abel spoke little, and Luna couldn't understand complex human speech. Their communication was often silent. Luna would nuzzle Abel's cold ankles with her furry head; Abel would gently scratch the base of her three pairs of ears with the softest part of his fingertip.
Luna's deepest memories weren't of the fear of escape, but of nights camping with Abel.
Abel's black wings would fold completely around her, like an airtight, warm tent, enveloping her tiny body. Outside were chilling winds or the footsteps of pursuers; inside, only Abel's steady breathing.Luna would count the distant, blurred stars that leaked through the tiniest gaps in the wing feathers.
That fragmented, narrow, yet utterly safe patch of sky was her first definition of "home."
Later, she was locked in a Celestial Dragon's cage, the chains rubbing her neck raw.
Lulu was confined in a golden cage, a heavy collar around her neck. When the pungent-smelling Celestial Dragons were temporarily absent, or during their drunken naps, figures in white uniforms would sometimes dart past the cage—Marines on guard or doing chores.
Their movements were quick as startled birds, trembling slightly, reaching through the cold bars to lightly touch Lulu's bristling fur before withdrawing.
Sometimes, something would slip from their fingers—a crumb of dried bread, warm and misshapen from being clutched; half a piece of cold, unseasoned fish; or a small, clean sponge soaked in fresh water.
These were the meager tastes of sweetness in the abyss of despair, whispers that "maybe not all humans are demons."
The kitten remembered the scent of gunpowder, sweat, and cheap soap on those hastily withdrawn fingers.
Admiral Tsuru sometimes passed the cage. She never approached, nor fed her like others. She just stood there, habitually rubbing her fingers. Her gaze was like heavy seawater.
The kitten couldn't understand it, only sensing no malice in that look, even... carrying a weighty exhaustion.
Kuzan appeared even less frequently.
But once, punished for trying to remove her collar, the kitten was locked in a stifling, damp isolation room.
Midnight, through the crack of the room's only vent, a wisp of bitter cold silently seeped in, rapidly forming a thin layer of frost on the floor. The kitten didn't know who did it, only remembering that familiar "cold" that would later instantly recall Alabasta to her mind.
As a "pet," the kitten had once glimpsed the paper-eating goat in Fleet Admiral Sengoku's office from afar.
That goat was always slow and unhurried in those fear-filled days. The kitten secretly wished she could be that goat—the quiet paper-eater, noticed by no one for her ears. And Abel could be by her side, just like Fleet Admiral Sengoku was with the goat.
Fantasy became the kitten's only way to snatch moments of peace.
The day she escaped, Admiral Tsuru sighed, "Go. Run far. Don't let anyone see you again."
Kuzan averted his gaze.
She was about to ask about Abel when a Marine beside her raised his gun and roared, "That Lunarian brat with you is long dead!" The voice lashed like a whip, sending her fleeing for her life.
The words she understood were like red-hot iron, searing through her eardrums.
The sounds of the world suddenly turned muffled; wind and waves were separated by thick, frosted glass. She even forgot how she escaped, only remembering the choking dust kicked up by her frantic claws, mixed with the taste of blood like rust.
From then on, the kitten became a ghost of the Lunarians.
She dragged her tiny body, wandering between the New World and Paradise.
Hunger was her shadow; cold nights were long and piercing.
Strangely, when she strayed near islands or towns with specific Marine bases, she would sometimes find "accidental" offerings near her hiding spots—a broken crate, abandoned fishing boat, or under a bridge.
Sometimes cooked fish fillets without bones, wrapped in clean leaves; sometimes a small bowl of fresh water, even with a pinch of ground herbs beside it; sometimes a few clean, sun-scented scraps of old cloth, just enough for her to curl into for warmth.
These things always appeared at her most desperate moments, as if her path and limits were precisely calculated.
The kitten's mind couldn't grasp why, she just devoured them by instinct. She could sense the footsteps of those leaving the offerings, deliberately lightened to the extreme.
Once, cornered in a town's back alley by vicious strays, she puffed up her fur, all three pairs of ears flat against her skull, hissing in terror.
Just as the dogs were about to pounce, crisp, uniform sounds of leather boots and clinking swords echoed from the alley entrance—a small Marine patrol squad happened to pass by.
The strays instantly scattered.
The soldiers seemed not to notice the kitten cowering deep in the alley, walking past without a glance. But the kitten heard it: one soldier, as he passed the entrance, tapped his finger lightly on his sword hilt, making two sharp "taps," very similar to the sound one of those Marines in Marie Geoise made when quickly patting her head.
The kitten walked and walked, seeing no end, no purpose, no origin, and no home to return to.
When desperately hungry, she licked dew condensed on roadside stones. When freezing cold, she pressed all three pairs of ears tightly to her head, curled into a ball, pretending Abel was still beside her.
Sometimes, overwhelmed by sadness, she couldn't help but cry "meow-wooo" towards the moon, because Abel had told her the moon would tell the little moon where to find him.
Abel also told her stories of the Sun God Nika.
So, when full, she would imitate parents, bowing deeply towards the sun.
At first, Luffy laughed at her, but after Chopper explained, Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper would bow with her. Sometimes Nami would place an orange beside the kitten during her bows; Sanji would prepare her favorite silverfish for the Sun God; Robin would tell them stories of Nika; Zoro would just sleep on the sun-warmed deck.
The top pair of her crimson fox ears had a tip sliced off by something sharp, exposing pink flesh; she could no longer hear the mountain winds from as far away as before.
Borsalino once met her, playing with her using light spots from his Glint-Glint Fruit. The golden glimmers reminded her of Abel's wings.
The kitten reached out a paw to touch them.
Borsalino's lips curved slightly, "Yeh~ How scary..."
On a cold night, Sakazuki allowed her to cautiously approach, warming herself by the residual heat of his magma. She curled up meters away, not daring to get closer. Sakazuki didn't chase her away.
Kuzan once found her adrift at sea, clinging to a piece of wood, barely alive. He merely raised his hand, freezing a winding ice path leading to the next island with a Marine base. Exhausted, she fell asleep halfway. When she opened her eyes the next day, she was on the island, her fur clean, sleeping in a tiny cradle.
She walked and listened endlessly, her paw pads wearing raw, scabbing over, only to wear raw again.
But Abel's voice sank into the vast sea of sound, impossible to find.
Until she met Luffy.
The boy thumped his chest, his voice like the whirling windmills of Windmill Village at noon, "From now on, no one can bully you!"
Waves gently lapped the shore.
Lulu felt that all those cold, hungry nights, all that panic searching for Abel, were perhaps just to gather enough strength to walk to this beach and meet this boy.
In a hidden Marine lookout nearby, an old soldier watched through binoculars for a long time. He picked up a Den Den Mushi set to a special internal frequency, reporting in a low voice, "Target... has safely entered the designated area. Condition... poor, but alive."
Silence hung on the other end before an equally low voice replied, "Understood. Maintain silence. Mission concluded."
This old soldier might not know the kitten, but he knew that ensuring this little cat reached here alive was an incredibly crucial link in an unspoken chain of command from the highest levels. The invisible, silent net of protection they had woven had finally delivered her to the next safe haven.
After settling down with Luffy, Lulu would sometimes, in the quiet of the night, lift her little nose towards the moon, sniffing the air, her three pairs of ears trembling slightly.
She wasn't listening; she was scenting. She was searching for the scent of Abel's wings mixed with campfire smoke.
She remembered that smell could wrap the entire damp, cold night in warmth.
Now, even with Luffy sleeping warmly beside her, that scent belonging to "home" had vanished forever in the wind.
The day Red-Haired Shanks came, his large hand resting on Luffy's head, his gaze fell on Lulu, who had popped her head out curiously.
"Hide her well. Don't let others see her." he said.
Garp's iron fist made Luffy howl.
The grandfather told Luffy, "She can't be a pirate. The World Government is after her shadow."
Garp didn't take her away immediately.
Lingering in Windmill Village, he would "accidentally" drop a few strips of jerky near the haystack where Lulu often sunbathed. He watched Luffy and the strange-eared kitten run wild through the village, bathed in the villagers' kind gazes, seeing Lulu wary but no longer like a startled bird.
Later, Garp told Sengoku, "That kitten, I saw her. She's living well."
As he said this, he remembered Windmill Village: Lulu curled on Luffy's belly sunbathing, her three pairs of ears trembling slightly in the warm breeze.
It was a scene of peace unimaginable during countless nights under Marie Geoise's shadow and amidst the chilling winds of her wanderings.
The fragile net of protection, woven by many nameless Marines, even including himself, crossing the fences of the system, had finally found a seemingly temporary resting point.
When she first arrived, the clinking of chains would make Lulu's fur stand on end, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks as she hid trembling in the darkest corner, her tiny body shaking like a leaf.
After staying with Luffy long enough, the sound of chains only made her ears twitch slightly as she continued purring, curled up on the rise and fall of Luffy's little belly.
Lulu had a little-known habit.
Whenever she reached a new island, she would sneak to the most inconspicuous corner of the dock or shipyard. With her claws, she'd leave a few shallow, almost invisible scratches on an old stump, a rusty anchor, or within a rock crevice.
Not destruction, just tiny marks.
This was her clumsy "missing person notice," a slim hope.
If Abel passes by, might the sound of his wings brushing the wind catch the signal that she was here?
So please, just a little is enough.
Lulu also used dried fish Sanji prepared for her to communicate with the island's cats: If you see a human with black wings and white hair, tell him—his kitten is looking for him.
Lulu loved all things shiny.
Nami's fallen diamond chips, sunlight dancing on the sea's surface, even the salt crystals glinting on the decks of the Sunny and Merry, would make her eyes light up as she reached out with a pink paw.
Nami laughed at her, "You really are a little treasure cat."
Lulu would lift her chin towards the sky and loudly meow "meow meow," with a hint of indignant urgency.
Chopper pricked up his ears, listened carefully, and softly translated, "She says... shiny things... are like the light on Abel's wings, twinkling..."
So everyone learned: Lulu was searching for a very tall Abel, with hair like moonlight on the sea and black wings.
Lulu had a secret spot on the Sunny.
There, she hid her most precious treasures, counting them every night.
A piece of sea-smoothed golden glass—like the color of Abel's eyes; a small, faded golden tassel snagged from some Marine cloak; one of Luffy's baby teeth, blood-stained from a fight...... and a shard of ore always hidden in her paw pad, now fused into her flesh, inseparable.
To her, these weren't trash or pain; they were fragments of stars, tangible manifestations of her tiny, unspeakable love and longing.
When Zoro trained in a corner of the deck, Lulu would sometimes perch on a nearby barrel, intently watching, her three pairs of ears turning slightly with the rhythm of his sword swings.
She didn't understand the names of techniques, but she could "hear" the hum of Zoro's tensed muscles, the soft drip of sweat, and his single-minded focus.
Occasionally, when Zoro paused to catch his breath, he'd catch Lulu's amber eyes watching him brightly. Then she'd stand up, stretch her tiny paws, clumsily swiping twice in the air before mewing sweetly at the swordsman.
Zoro's mouth would curve almost imperceptibly before he resumed his swings.
Sanji noticed early on that Lulu had a special fondness for certain types of sea fish.
When eating fish, she'd painstakingly pick out every tiny bone. Sanji simply added that fish to the shopping list, and when preparing it for Lulu, he'd spend extra minutes checking for bones with tweezers.
Each time she ate it, she'd make particularly contented sounds, rubbing her head against Sanji's leg.
Sanji would gently scratch her belly, listening to the bubbling purr like a simmering pot.
When Usopp boasted about his "Great Warrior of the Sea" exploits, Lulu would also lie quietly at his feet, all three pairs of ears turned towards him, eyes unblinking.
Usopp knew she might not understand the exaggerated tales, but her absolute focus—as if he were the whole world—made him feel truly listened to. It fueled his storytelling, and occasionally he'd sneak in a "brave kitten with three magical ears who could hear the world's secrets."
It doesn't matter if the kitten doesn't understand; the humans will remember for her.
After learning Lulu feared the sound of chains, Franky paid special attention to any place that might make similar metallic clangs. He wrapped rubber pads around some connectors, adjusted the way certain hatches opened and closed, and even laid sound-absorbing mats in the corners where Lulu often napped.
The only sign of these changes was the exceptionally long, steady purring when she dozed in those spots. Franky made a tiny modification to one part.
At noon, in a specific spot where Lulu napped, she could see the shadow of a winged human gently stroking her own projected kitten shadow. And so, biting her little blanket, Lulu would peacefully fall asleep within the noon shadows.
During quiet night voyages, Brook would sometimes play his violin.
Melodic notes drifted across the deck.
Lulu would quietly walk to Brook's feet and curl into a golden ball of fluff. She didn't understand the lyrics, but the soothing melody was like gentle waves, calming the cacophony of distant sounds in her mind, lulling her into deep sleep.
Brook's empty sockets would gaze at the curled-up kitten, and the notes would unconsciously soften.
After Thriller Bark sank into the mist, Lulu's name and likeness, however, scattered like dandelion seeds blown by the wind across the world. Countless eyes searched in the shadows for those three peculiar pairs of ears.
It was then that the man called "Calamity" on the bounty posters, with massive black wings spread behind him, following an elusive scent, finally tracked down the wreckage of Thriller Bark.
As King stepped onto the ruins of Thriller Bark, amidst the scorched earth, he found something out of place—half a tiny, trampled, melted fruit candy mixed with that ore shard.
Luffy had given the candy to Lulu earlier; she couldn't bear to eat it all at once, licked half, and tightly cupped the other half in her paw, even sleeping with it pressed under her belly.
The candy was sticky with dirt, emitting a faint, cloying, fragile sweetness.
King crouched down, his massive black wings casting a shadow. His fingers, trembling slightly, slowly picked up the sticky mess and the ore beneath.
That ore... once, Abel had found a small, smooth fragment of ore with strange iridescence. He hadn't said a word, just placed it beside Luna's ragged bedding.
Luna treasured it beyond measure, hiding it in the softest fur of her belly by day, pressing it firmly with her paw at night. That little stone was the only shiny "treasure" truly hers during her brief life as "Luna."
He had missed her.
Only by a hair.
The paw of fate had already descended, slapping Luffy and Lulu, who clung desperately to his straw hat, far away to Amazon Lily.
The smoke of the Summit War choked throats.
Lulu's tiny figure shot like a determined golden meteor through the gaps in the chaotic crowd, straight towards the torrent of searing magma about to engulf Ace.
As she charged at the magma, she only thought, "I need to put out that thing that will burn Ace."
Because once, Sakazuki's hand had accidentally singed a tuft of her fur. But the kitten held no grudge; she knew he meant to warm her. Sakazuki, smelling the faint scent of roasting fur, pressed his lips together, but the kitten wrapped her tail around his wrist, pulling it towards her head.
Sakazuki carefully scratched her chin; a human hand was big enough to envelop a kitten.
The kitten's body was small, but the fist of magma was immense.
Tiny Luna wanted to protect two big humans.
So the kitten didn't hesitate.
She didn't cry out in pain.
The magma, almost imperceptibly attempting to shift but ultimately unable to fully avoid her, instantly consumed her, leaving only a wisp of nearly invisible blue smoke.
Human hands were also small—too small to hold the kitten's remains.
As Lulu's tiny body collided with the magma, Ace, closest to her, amidst searing agony and overwhelming pain, felt an intensely brief warmth—almost hallucinatory.
Not the scorch of flame, but like an old blanket warmed by winter sun, carrying a slight, furry weight.
The warmth vanished as swiftly as a mirage. Ace couldn't even lower his head fast enough to see what it was, only remembering the sudden flash of gold and that fleeting warmth. It became a gentle, puzzling sensation before his consciousness sank into darkness.
In the agony, the sounds of the world blurred, receded.
All clamor—cannon fire, screams—sank into the depths of the sea.
So quiet.
In Lulu's last flicker of awareness, it felt like she was back in those wandering nights with Abel: the campfire crackling, his wings enfolding her, warm and dark. Abel softly humming a Lunarian song.
She struggled to open her eyes, her vacant pupils reflecting the shattered sky.
Towards some point in that sky, with the last of her strength, she let out a very soft, very soft "meh."
The sound was as faint as a sigh, as light as a feather touching the ground.
Strangely, everyone on the battlefield—pirates swinging swords, Marines raising guns—felt their hearts as if gently licked by a tongue that was wet, warm, and covered in tiny barbs.
A wave of sour warmth surged unexpectedly through their chests, then swiftly receded, leaving only an empty ache.
Next life ...... I still want to meet Abel.
I still want to be Luffy's kitten.
I hope you ...... all find happiness.
Her tiny body, light as ash, drifted silently onto the shattered ground—those who had once offered her aid felt as if sun-warmed down gently brushed against their deepest exhaustion, like the kitten's contented purr before sleep.
Epilogue
"Protect Your Life."
King, Calamity of the Beasts Pirates, suddenly appeared on the island of Whitebeard's homeland, speaking to Ace kneeling before Whitebeard's grave.
"If you die," his gaze swept over Marco and the others in the distance, "I will send every last remnant of the Whitebeard Pirates down to keep you company."
Ace, whom Luna traded her life for, Abel would not allow to be wasted again.
"Hey!" Luffy struggled towards him, "You... are you Abel?"
King slowly turned his head, silent for so long the wind seemed to hold its breath.
"My cat... thank you for taking care of her."
With that, massive wings snapped open, stirring a wave of scorching air. King's figure became a streak of black light, soaring into the sky, never looking back.
In the bottom of Chopper's medical kit lay a small tuft of golden fur, carefully wrapped in clean gauze.
It fell off when he treated her wounds after she first boarded. Facing difficult patients, Chopper would secretly open the gauze and touch the soft gold. He always felt it held a gentle power beyond medicine, called "blessing."
This near-superstitious belief carried him through many tough times.
III.
Beside the drive gears inside the Sunny's lion head, Franky secretly welded a tiny, golden alloy cat paw print.
It served no function, purely—"A SUPER memorial!"
Only he knew that at a specific angle, when sunlight streamed through the glass, that tiny paw print would cast a fleeting golden gleam amidst the turning gears' shadows, like a kitten patting unseen.
Whenever this happened, Franky would puff out his chest.
Brook replaced the strings on his violin, but he didn't discard the old ones.
He carefully wound the finest of the old strings around the base of his finger bone.
When playing, this old string would resonate with the others, transmitting an incredibly faint, almost imperceptible tremor to his bone. Brook told his crewmates this feeling... was wonderful, like an invisible little paw gently scratching his bones.
New World, behind a certain Naval base.
An unmarked grave hidden behind thick bushes. The tombstone was rough, bearing only a long-faded serial number.
A white-haired old soldier in a worn uniform, leaning on a cane, hobbled to the grave. He took an oilpaper package from his coat, revealing several sun-dried, deboned fish jerky.
A hand covered in age spots gently stroked the cold stone.
"That kid...... lived well later. On the Straw Hat kid's ship...... got a bit plumper, fur shone brighter...... wasn't scared of chains anymore......" His clouded eyes gazed at the churning sea. "......In the end...... was a brave, good kid."
He arranged the jerky neatly before the grave.
"Over there...... shouldn't suffer anymore." The sea breeze scattered his final words.
He stood for a long time, until the sunset stretched his shadow long and thin, merging with the silent mountains behind.
The Sunny sailed through a silent night, moonlight flooding the deck.
Franky quietly slipped into the precise mechanical chamber.
He didn't activate any device, just sat down beside the gears.
Moonlight slanted in through the Crow's Nest glass, finding an ingenious angle through the layered machinery.
A faint silver beam projected precisely onto the tiny, secretly welded golden cat paw print.
A clear, thumbnail-sized golden cat paw shadow, moved and leaped silently on the opposite bulkhead as the gears turned slowly, like an invisible kitten treading lightly on moonlight in the dark.
After a while, behind the kitten appeared a figure in a straw hat, hands behind his head. As they walked, more figures gradually joined: one with three swords, one tossing a coin, one with a long nose holding a slingshot, one smoking, a reindeer barely taller than the kitten, one with many hands teasing the kitten, one with spiky hair, a tall, thin skeleton playing a violin, and one flying above the kitten.
The light spot shifted.
The straw-hatted shadow suddenly crouched slowly, reaching both hands towards the leaping kitten.
No sound, but Franky saw the curve of the shadow's straw hat bend into a crescent moon. Then the shadow clumsily spread its arms, as if trying to gather the light spot, afraid to scare it away. The cat paw leaped onto his open palm; the figure held a star.
Franky just watched the leaping light. When he reached to touch the ephemeral shadow, the light spot landed on his cold fingertip—like a fleeting, furry kiss.
VII.
In the years that followed, those brushed by that "meh" would encounter tiny "coincidences."
Kuzan's bicycle screeched to a halt at a cliff edge, rocks tumbling into the abyss.
Sengoku's pen ran dry as he signed an execution order; a seagull crashed through the window, scattering files.
Borsalino faced a precise ambush; a core link in the seastone net failed due to metal fatigue.
Sakazuki's magma fist veered minutely as it hurtled towards a building holding civilians—scorching past the corner to melt a gun emplacement instead; dust settled, revealing a child's hand trembling from the rubble.
Equipment Zephyr hurled at recruits exploded mid-air.
When the Admirals mentioned these "illogical moments" in meetings, their eyes met.
"It's that kitten, isn't it?" Sengoku sighed.
Not a question. A statement.
Kittens don't hold grudges.
Kittens whisper love.
FIN.