Chapter Text
A jaunty, melodic whistling drifted through the trees, breaking the heavy silence of the grove.
"You're a fan of the scenery too, huh?"
She bolts upright, her back pressing hard against the rough bark. A man stands a few paces away, adjusting his hat that sat atop a shock of vibrant red hair. He wore a black cloak that fluttered in the breeze and a lopsided, easy-going grin. He lets out a hearty, melodic laugh, the sound echoing through the trees as he comes to a stop a few paces away. He adjusts his hat, tilting it back to get a better look at her.
"A favorite spot, huh?" he repeats, his grin widening as he gestures vaguely toward the direction of the coast.
He takes another step closer, his presence warm and grounding, though that sharp, observant glint never leaves his eyes. "You've got a good eye for a resting place. Though, I have to say, you don't look like you're from around these parts.
"Why are you approaching me?" She asks skeptical and annoyed that she was interrupted her alone time.
He stops in his tracks, raising his hand in a disarming gesture. He doesn't look offended; the skepticism in her voice seemed to amuse him. He leans his weight onto one leg. "Whoa, easy there," he said, his grin softening into something a bit more sheepish. "I didn't mean to intrude on your peace. It’s just not every day I stumble across someone who looks like they’ve mastered the art of doing absolutely nothing as well as I have."
He lets out a soft chuckle and looks up at the canopy for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I'll tell you what—I'll keep moving if I'm really ruining the vibe. But honestly? It's a big forest, and you looked like you had a story worth hearing. Or at the very least, you looked like you knew where the best view was. If you're really that annoyed, I can head back toward the noise. But are you sure you want to pass up a chance to tell a Yonko to buzz off to his face?"
"A Yonko? What is that?"
He blinks a look of genuine surprise crossing his face before it dissolved into a loud, boisterous laugh. He reaches up, scratching the back of his neck, looking more like a confused traveler than one of the a pirate emperor.
"Ah... well, that’s a first!" he sats, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "It’s actually a bit refreshing. Usually, people either start screaming or trying to pick a fight the moment they recognize me."
He takes a small step back, giving her a bit more space since she was clearly not impressed by titles she had never heard of. "It's just a fancy word the world government uses for four 'Great Pirates' who rule over the back half of the New World. Basically, it means I've got a lot of territory, a very loud crew, and a massive headache whenever the Marines show up."
He leans against a neighboring tree, crossing his arms over his chest. He seems much more relaxed now that he knew she wasn't a fan or a bounty hunter. "But forget all that. If you don't know what a Yonko is, then you’re either from a very peaceful island or you’ve been doing a really good job of minding your own business. I’m leaning toward the latter. The name's Shanks. Since I've already ruined your silence, do you mind telling me yours? Or are we staying on a 'need-to-know' basis?"
"I’m Elle," she says. "Sorry for being rude earlier... I was cranky, was woken up from a nap..."
"Ah, a nap! Now that’s a crime I can sympathize with," Shanks says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial stage whisper. "Waking someone up from a good sleep is practically a declaration of war in some circles. If I’d known, I would’ve whistled a bit quieter." He offered a friendly, lopsided grin. "Nice to meet you, Elle. And don't worry about the 'rude' bit. I’ve had much worse thrown at me than a little crankiness. Usually involving cannons. So, since I'm the one who disturbed your nap, the least I can do is offer a peace treaty. I don't suppose you're hungry?"
Elle’s ears practically perks up at the mention of food. She looks like a puppy, ignoring his other questions entirely.
"Haha! I see I found your weakness," Shanks chuckles, sounding far too proud of himself. "You went from 'stay away' to 'where's the food' faster than my ship catches a tailwind!"
He reaches into the folds of his cloak, rummaging around before pulling out a small, string-tied parcel. He tosses it gently toward her. "Here. It’s some dried sea-king meat and a couple of those sweet, hard biscuits we picked up at the last port. Careful with the biscuits, though—they’re crunchy. My first mate says they're hard enough to use as slingshot ammo, but I think they're perfect. Better now? Or do I need to find something even better to fully earn my forgiveness for waking you up?"
Elle takes the snacks and gobbled it up, smiling for the first time while closing her eyes and licking her lips. Shanks watches her inhale the snacks with a look of pure, unadulterated delight.
"Whoa! Slow down there, Elle! I’m starting to think you haven't eaten since the Void Century," he chuckled. "But I'm glad to see a smile. It’s a much better look on you than that 'I'm-going-to-stab-you' face you had on a minute ago."
He watches a stray crumb on her cheek and points to his own face with a grin. "You've got a little... ah, never mind. Consider it a souvenir of the meal." He stretches his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "So, since we're officially at peace now, tell me—what's the story with you? You a traveler, or is this island just lucky enough to have you as a permanent resident?"
"I don’t know... really. When I woke up... I saw you," Elle said, wiping the crumb from her face.
The playful glint in Shanks' eyes vanishes, replaces by a sharp, sudden focus. "You mean... just now? When I stumbled across you, that was the first thing you remember? No ship, no hometown... nothing?" He went quiet for a moment. "Well, that’s a hell of a way to start a day. If that’s the case, I guess it’s a good thing it was me who found you and not some of the less-friendly types hanging around the harbor."
He offers his hand. "Listen, Elle. My ship, the Red Force, is docked just a few miles from here. We’ve got a doctor who’s seen just about everything—amnesia included—and a crew that would never let anything happen to a friend of mine. You don't have to stay here alone under a tree. Want to come back to the camp with me? We can get you a real meal and maybe see if we can figure out where you came from. What do you say?"
Elle looks at him for a moment. Her gaze seems appreciative before it turned back to contemplating. "Why are you helping me? And how do I know that I can trust you?"
"Fair questions," Shanks says. "As for why? Let's just say I've got a bit of a soft spot for people who find themselves at a crossroads. As for trust... all I can give you is my word as a pirate. I don't draw my sword on those who can't defend themselves, and I don't leave people behind who need a hand. Besides, if I were a bad guy, I would've kept the sea-king meat for myself. That stuff is delicious."
She looks back at him, mirroring his warm for the first time. “You’re right. Bad guys wouldn’t share their snack.” She says with almost a playful smile. She chooses to trust him. Something about him compelled her to.
Shanks beams, a grin so wide it practically lights up the shaded forest floor. He lets out a triumphant laugh and slaps his knee.
"Haha! Logic as solid as a ship's hull. I like the way you think, Elle!"
He stands up in one fluid, powerful motion, dusting off his trousers with his single hand before extending it toward her again. This time, there's no hesitation in his posture—only a steady, welcoming invitation.
"Since you've decided to trust me, I'll make sure you don't regret it. The Red-Haired Pirates might be a bunch of rowdy drunkards, but they’re the best family a person could ask for."
As she takes his hand and pull yourself up, he kept his grip firm and supportive until she's steady on your feet. He starts walking at an easy pace, making sure not to outpace you, whistling that same jaunty tune from before.
"It’s a bit of a trek to the shore," he says, glancing back at you over his shoulder, "But the view when we break through the trees is worth it." He paused, looking at her. "No flashes of memory or 'aha!' moments?" Once we get to the Red Force, I’ll introduce you to Benn—he’s my First Mate. He’s the serious one. He’ll probably sigh and ask why I’m bringing home more 'trouble,' but don't mind him. He’s a big softie once you get to know him." He pauses for a second, looking at you curiously.
“No…. Nothing.” she seems to have a headache when she thinks about memory. Her hand flies up to her temple.
Shanks stops instantly, his playful demeanor vanishing as he notices the pained look on her face. Before she cans even steady herself, he’s there, his hand hovering near her shoulder—close enough to catch her if she stumbled, but careful not to crowd her.
"Hey, hey—don't force it," he says, his voice dropping to a low, soothing rumble. "If it hurts, stop. No memory is worth a splitting headache, believe me."
He stands there for a moment, shielding her from the sun with his cloak, acting as a human barrier between her and the rest of the world until the sharpest part of the pain passes. His eyes are full of a quiet, steady concern that felt remarkably grounded for a man who was just joking about snacks a minute ago.
"The past isn't going anywhere, Elle," he adds gently, his expression softening. "If it’s meant to come back, it’ll do it on its own time. For now, let’s just focus on getting you somewhere you can sit down and get a cool drink. Yasopp probably has some stories that'll distract you—he never shuts up about his aim, but he’s good for a laugh."
He waits until she lowers her hand from her temple, watching her closely to make sure the dizziness has faded.
"You okay to keep walking? We can take as many breaks as you need. I'm in no hurry to get back to paperwork, anyway."
He offers her his arm to lean on if she's feeling steady enough to continue.
“I-m fine.” Elle says before her body gave up on her. she is about to drop the ground.
"Whoa—!"
Shanks’ reflexes were faster than a blink. Before she can hit the forest floor, he’s moved, his arm sweeping under her to catch her mid-fall. He drops to one knee, cradling her against his chest to ensure she doesn't take a hard knock against the roots of the trees.
"Elle? Hey, stay with me," he says, his voice losing its playful edge entirely. It’s now the voice of a man who has commanded thousands—sharp, steady, and focused. He didn't panic, but there’s a clear urgency in his eyes as he looked down at her. He placed a hand against her forehead, checking for a fever, his brow furrowed in deep concern. The air around him seemed to hum with a protective energy.
"I knew that headache wasn't just a nap hangover," he muttered to himself, more frustrated with his own lack of foresight than with her. He looked toward the direction of the coast, then back at her pale face.
"Alright, no more walking for you."
In one smooth, effortless motion, he shifts her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style. To him, she feels as light as a feather, and he held her with a carefulness that suggests he’s handled precious cargo many times before. He begins to move through the forest, his pace much faster now, his boots hitting the ground in a rhythmic, determined thud.
"Hang on, Elle," he murmurs his chin resting near the top of her head as he navigates the thicket. "We’re going to get you to Hongo. Just keep breathing. I've got you."
Elle blushes as he carries her bridal style. She feels weak now but not just from the faint. A faint brush is creeping over her.
Shanks notices the sudden warmth radiating from her face and the way her cheeks have turned a soft, dusty rose. Even in the middle of a serious situation, a small, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He’s used to being the center of attention, but there’s something genuinely endearing about her reaction while she's half-fainting.
"Feeling a bit warmer, are we?" he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing vibration against her ear as he keeps up his steady stride. "Or is it just the island heat finally catching up to you?"
He adjusts his hold, pulling her slightly closer to his chest to make sure she's secure as he maneuvers over a fallen log. His cloak wraps around them both like a heavy, red curtain, shielding her from the branches and the breeze. Despite the speed at which he’s moving, his footsteps are incredibly smooth—it’s like being carried by the tide itself.
"Don't go hiding your face now," he chuckles softly, sensing her embarrassment. "Just close your eyes and rest. I’ve carried much heavier things than a blushing girl through much worse than a pretty forest. You’re in safe hands, Elle. I promise."
The scent of salt air and aged cedarwood clings to his clothes, a stark contrast to the earthy smell of the woods. As the trees start to thin, the sound of the distant crashing surf begins to fill the air, signaling that the ship is close.
"Almost there," he says, his tone turning a bit more serious as he spots the masts of the Red Force peeking over the cliffside. "Hold on just a little longer."
As Shanks steps out of the treeline and onto the sandy docks, the sight of their captain carrying a blushing, semi-conscious woman in his arms is like ringing a dinner bell for the Red-Haired Pirates.
A collective "Oooooh!" rises from the deck of the Red Force.
"Well, look at that! The Captain went for a walk and brought back a souvenir!" Yasopp yells from the railing, cupping his hands around his mouth. He lets out a loud, long whistle that echoes across the water. "And here I thought you were just looking for a quiet place to nap, Boss!"
"Is that a guest, or did you kidnap a forest spirit, Shanks?" Lucky Roux adds, biting into a massive rack of ribs while chuckling so hard his stomach jiggles. "She’s as red as your hair!"
Shanks doesn't slow down, but he kicks the gangplank with his boot as he boards, a playful but warning glint in his eyes.
"Stow it, you lot! She’s had a rough day," he calls out, though he can't quite hide the amused smirk on his face. He looks down at her, noticing her eyes fluttering and the way she's trying to process the chaos. "See? I told you they were rowdy. Just a bunch of overgrown kids."
"She’s half-awake, Captain! You're embarrassing the poor girl!" Benn Beckman says, leaning against the main mast and exhaling a plume of smoke. He’s the only one who doesn't look like he’s about to start a party, though even he has a tiny, knowing smirk. "Get her to Hongo before the rest of these idiots start singing sea shanties about 'The Captain's Forest Bride'."
Shanks laughs, his chest vibrating against you. "Good idea, Benn."
He carries you toward the infirmary, passing the gawking crew.
"Don't mind them, Elle," he whispers down to her, his voice warm and steady amidst the whistling and cheering. "They're just jealous they didn't find you first."
“Do they… always do this?” Elle asks quietly trying to hide her face in her hand. She thinks it is not a normal occurrence that he is carrying a girl bridal style but she suspects that he must be a little bit of a womanizer.
Shanks pauses at the door, his hand on the frame. He doesn't actually know what she's thinking, but he’s spent enough time around people to read a "skeptical" expression when he sees one. He gives her one last playful wave before stepping out, leaving her in the much quieter company of the ship's doctor.
Hongo sighs, moving a rolling stool over to your bedside. He looks far more professional and grounded than the rest of the crew you've met so far.
"Don't let him get to you," Hongo says calmly, reaching for a penlight. "The Captain has a way of sucking all the oxygen out of a room. He means well, but he’s... a lot."
As the doctor begins his examination, checking her pulse and looking into her eyes, the silence of the room settles in. Without Shanks’ boisterous energy filling the space, the reality of her situation starts to sink back in.
Despite the cool air of the infirmary, she cans still feel the lingering warmth on her skin from where he was holding her. It’s a bit frustrating how much his presence affected her, especially since she doesn't even know your own last name.
"Focus on me for a second, Elle," Hongo says gently, noticing her gaze drifting toward the door. "Can you tell me the last thing you remember before waking up in that forest? Even if it's just a color, a sound, or a feeling?"
"How do you know my name?" Elle says respectfully almost timidly.
“I think the first thing I saw is red. It’s your captain’s hair.”
Hongo stops writing and looks at her over the rim of his glasses, his expression softening into a small, reassuring smile. He realizes that in all the chaos of being carried onto the ship, you might have missed the introduction.
"The Captain shouted it to the whole deck while he was bringing you in," Hongo explains with a dry chuckle, gesturing toward the door where the rowdy noise is still drifting through. "He’s not exactly known for his subtlety. He told us he found a girl named 'Elle' who needed a doctor and a snack, though I think he mostly provided the snack and the headache."
He goes quiet as she mentions the color red. He watches her face closely, his doctor’s intuition picking up on the timid way she's speaking.
"Red, huh?" he repeats softly, jotting that down on his clipboard. "The Captain’s hair is a pretty hard thing to miss, but it’s interesting that’s the very first thing your mind latched onto. Sometimes, after a trauma or a memory loss, the brain grabs the first bright or 'safe' thing it sees."
He leans back slightly, giving her some space. Outside, she cans hear a sudden burst of laughter and someone—probably Yasopp—trying to play a fiddle, though it sounds a bit out of tune.
"If the only thing in your head right now is a flash of red and the smell of the forest, then we’ve got some work to do," Hongo says kindly. "But for now, you should eat something more substantial than dried meat and ship biscuits. I'll have the galley send up some soup."
He pauses, looking at the way she's clutching the blanket.
"You're safe here, Elle. Even if you don't remember where 'here' is yet. Is there anything else you feel? Any tightness in your chest, or does the sound of the crew outside make you feel... nervous?"
“… I do feel a tightness in my chest I’m not sure it’s about my condition. Elle says shyly thinking about Shanks and his charming smile. "And no the crew don’t make me feel nervous. I don’t know how to say this it feels like home.. maybe I come from a place with rowdy and cheerful people too. You are kind, doctor And your captain is too. Why you are kind to a stranger girl?” Elle says again her voice is almost suspicious but hopeful
Hongo pauses, his pen hovering over the clipboard. He catches the way her eyes soften when she mention the Captain, and a knowing, slightly weary smile touches his lips. He’s seen that look directed at Shanks more times than he can count, but her earnestness makes it feel a bit different.
"Tightness in the chest, eh?" Hongo murmurs, a bit of a dry spark in his eyes. "Well, if it’s what I suspect, there’s no medicine in my cabinet that can cure a fluttering heart caused by a charming Captain. That’s a 'condition' many people suffer from when he’s around."
He sets the clipboard down on the small table beside her bed and looks at her directly, his expression turning serious but warm.
"As for why we’re kind..." He gestures vaguely toward the door. "Look, we’re pirates. The world calls us monsters and outlaws. But this crew? We’re a family. Most of us were 'strangers' once. Most of us were looking for a place to belong when we found this ship."
He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a gentle tone.
"Shanks has a philosophy: you don't need a reason to help someone who’s hurting. If he sees someone alone and lost, he treats them like a guest until they can stand on their own. We follow his lead because... well, because it's hard not to follow a man like that."
He pats her hand reassuringly.
"If the noise outside feels like home, then trust that feeling. Maybe you did come from a place like this. Or maybe," he adds with a wink, "you were just always meant to find your way to a place where people laugh this loud."
Suddenly, the door to the infirmary creaks open just an inch, and a shock of red hair peeks through.
"Is she awake? Can I come in yet, or is Hongo still being a bore?" Shanks’ voice whispers loudly from the hallway.