Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Garp should’ve seen it coming and warned them: dating pirates never ends well for a Marine. He’d lived it himself in his youth with Roger—until the man ended up on the scaffold, and it had made him question his own sense of justice for years. He should’ve known some people would make the same mistake. But getting caught like this, splashed across the front page? That was even more humiliating than collecting Ace’s conquests—and Ace was the son of his ex-wife and his former pirate boyfriend who’d ended up very dead… Okay, maybe equally pathetic.

Garp groaned as he read the headline: “Vice Admiral Smoker caught in intimate company with Portgas D. Ace, Whitebeard pirate.”

If Smoker were the only problem, Garp would’ve happily smashed his own face into the desk. Page two was worse: Dracule Mihawk, former Warlord, now openly dating Figarland Shamrock—the runaway Holy Knight wanted by the World Government for weeks.

Retrieve Shamrock. Kill Mihawk. Retrieve Smoker. Eliminate Ace (again). The list was getting longer by the minute. Sengoku had nearly had three consecutive heart attacks since the news broke. Morgans had a real gift for pouring oil on the fire.

“This cannot go on!” Sengoku roared, unable to sit still.

“I know,” Garp replied, mouth full of crackers, “but it’s Akainu’s mess now. Not yours anymore.”

“Akainu doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing! Ever since Fujitora broke up with him, he’s been… off.”

“So they really were together? I thought that was just another Morgans rumour.”

“Can you please stop saying that idiot’s name in my presence? We’re in this mess because of him!”

“Honestly,” Garp shrugged, “Smoker was an idiot for dating Ace. Fine. But getting photographed like a lovesick teenager? There are rules.”

“Don’t you dare lecture anyone on discretion,” Sengoku snapped. “Need I remind you of the night you got drunk and told me you were ‘dating’ Gol D. Roger? I almost resigned on the spot.”

“It only lasted three months,” Garp muttered, sniffing. “It was complicated.”

“We’re losing a good officer because Smoker decided to play house on Whitebeard’s ship.”

“And that’s delicate because…?”

“Because he’s got the whitest beard in the seas protecting him, Garp. I’m not stupid.”

“Let’s talk about the Mihawk–Figarland Shamrock situation,” Garp said, grabbing another cracker.

“I could’ve lived without that one. Getting phone calls from Figarland Garling is pure torture.”

“All because his precious son ran off to get railed by Dracule Mihawk somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t have phrased it quite like that.”

“We all know that backside won’t be very holy after Mihawk’s sword decides to slide in—”

“That’s disgusting!” Sengoku went red and smacked Garp, who just laughed harder.

“We cannot afford more scandals like these. What kind of image would the Marines project to the world?”

“You mean we’re not already the laughing stock?”

“We need to find the problem couples before this gets any worse. Civilians will stop trusting us if our ranks keep mixing with pirate scum.”

“So… we’re doing this? Who exactly are we hunting?”

“You’re investigating with me, obviously,” Sengoku said. “You’ve been with a pirate. You practically speak their language.”

“All I know is you should never trust appearances.”

“Then I have a feeling we’re going to have a lot of work,” Sengoku sighed.

Garp blew on his tea and took a sip to ease the tightness in his chest. He had the feeling the troubles were only just beginning.

 

🩵🌊⚓

Chapter Text

Long before the world plunged into its final chaos, Dracule Mihawk had slipped into the Holy Land like a shadow among shadows. His Observation Haki, honed to perfection, wove an invisible veil around him; not a single guard, not a single Celestial Dragon sensed his presence. This was not his first incursion here. Crocodile had once sent him to cut Shamrock Figarland’s throat. Mihawk had refused the order without even bothering to explain why. He had other plans.

Buggy had nearly choked on his own red nose when he realized who the “pretty redhead” his right-hand man was dating actually was. Then, upon learning that said redhead was about to make a colossal donation to Cross Guild, the clown had wept with joy and declared it “the healthiest and most magnificent love story of the century.”

That night, Mihawk pushed the door open without a sound. Shamrock was waiting for him, standing by the window, arms crossed, his features tense. The redhead was in a foul mood; it showed in the way he clenched his jaw, in the stiffness of his shoulders beneath the white silk shirt.

Mihawk wasn’t good with sweet words. He never would be. So he did what he knew how to do: he walked over in silence, wrapped his arms around Shamrock’s waist, pressed his lips to the hollow of his neck, and lingered there with a slow, almost shy kiss. Then he rested his chin on the younger man’s shoulder.

“What’s eating you?”

Shamrock exhaled long and slow, as if he’d been holding that sentence in for hours.

“My father will never accept it. I tried bringing it up… gently. He told me not to ‘start acting like Shanks.’”

Mihawk closed his eyes for a second. It was exactly what he’d feared from the very first day.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against his skin. “I wish I could pull you out of all this.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s his. He hates pirates. He hates anything that wasn’t born with a black ring on its head.”

Mihawk tightened his hold, almost protectively.

“And if he finds out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. We just keep it quiet, that’s all.” Shamrock turned his head slightly, his red hair brushing Mihawk’s cheek. “I could come to the Guild. Officially. It’d be simpler than these clandestine meetings. Safer, too.”

Mihawk considered it. Cross Guild was hardly a haven of peace, but it was territory even the Celestial Dragons hesitated to set foot in.

“You think he’d come looking for you? You’re not a child anymore, Shamrock.”

“He never looked for Shanks when he vanished. And… Buggy’s an Emperor now. Garling Figarland won’t make waves if he knows I’m under your protection.”

Silence. Then Mihawk nodded slowly.

“Come. You’ll sleep with me on Karai Bari.”

He punctuated the sentence with another kiss, lower this time, just beneath the ear. Shamrock finally smiled—a crooked, insolent, gorgeous smile.

“What an honor the world’s greatest swordsman bestows upon me.”

“Insolent,” Mihawk breathed, gently nipping the skin of his neck.

Shamrock laughed, a low, rough sound that sent a shiver down Mihawk’s spine more than he cared to admit. The kiss that followed was anything but shy. The swordsman’s hands slid beneath the thin fabric, finding warm skin, tracing up the spine. Shamrock responded with the same urgency, fingers digging into black hair, pulling just hard enough to tear a growl from Mihawk.

They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of discarded clothes and mingled breaths. Mihawk took his time—he always did, with him. Every kiss pressed to shoulders, every caress along hips, every slow, deep thrust was a silent promise: *I’m here. I won’t let you fall.*

Much later, Shamrock slept against him, head tucked into the crook of Mihawk’s shoulder. Mihawk didn’t sleep. He stared at the ceiling, Yoru leaning against the wall, and thought that for the first time in his life, he had something to protect more precious than his title.

---

A few days later — Karai Bari Island, Cross Guild headquarters.

Buggy was already screaming. Of course.

“WAIT JUST ONE SECOND! WE JUST BROUGHT BACK SHANKS’S TWIN?! THE RED-HEADED BASTARD’S BROTHER?! AND HE’S A HOLY KNIGHT TO BOOT?!”

Crocodile took a long drag on his cigar, utterly unfazed.

“Shut up, clown. I was planning to kidnap someone for ransom anyway. Might as well be a Figarland.”

“SO NOW WE’RE COLLECTING OUR OFFICERS’ BOYFRIENDS LIKE TRADING CARDS?!”

Mihawk, arms crossed, didn’t even deign to reply. He simply placed a possessive hand at the small of Shamrock’s back and pulled him closer. The redhead, meanwhile, was staring Buggy down with an absolutely infuriating smirk.

“Jealous, clown?”

“JEALOUS?! OF YOU AND THAT CREEPY MARBLE STATUE?! NEVER!” Buggy puffed up his chest to twice its size. “And you’ve got the exact same shit-eating grin as your brother—it gives me hives!”

Shamrock raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Yet you cried tears of joy when you found out I was funding your new big-top tent.”

Buggy choked. Crocodile chuckled into his cigar.

“He’s got you there, clown. You literally kissed Mihawk’s boots screaming ‘thank you for the rich brother-in-law.’”

“THAT WAS A BUSINESS STRATEGY!”

Shamrock leaned slightly toward Mihawk, murmuring loud enough for everyone to hear:

“He’s even funnier when he’s mad.”

Mihawk’s lips twitched into a smile—tiny, but real.

“You haven’t seen anything until you’ve watched us hit him.”

“Can’t wait,” Shamrock replied with a wink.

Buggy let out an incoherent screech and fled the room, pursued by Crocodile’s laughter and the almost tender gaze—unusual for him—of the world’s greatest swordsman resting on his insolent redheaded lover.

For the first time in a long while, Karai Bari almost felt like home.

 

🦅⚔️

Chapter Text

Smoker would never have imagined ending up with a pirate. Least of all *him*. Portgas D. Ace. He had nearly killed him once. Hunted him relentlessly, cigar clenched between his teeth, eyes hard, convinced it was his duty. And yet today, that same freckled boy sometimes fell asleep against his chest, breathing softly, as if the whole world had never wanted them dead.

Between missions, Smoker slipped away to join whatever remained of Whitebeard’s crew. Or rather… he came for Ace. Whitebeard had been too pragmatic for his liking, too detached. He had never really understood. But deep down, Smoker didn’t care. As long as Ace was there. As long as he could rest a hand on that burning neck and feel that he was alive.

Until the mistake.

He had always trusted his intel. Too much.
The next day, Ace was on the front page. Not alone. A stolen photo, arms wrapped around a Marine in civilian clothes. Him. The shock hit hard. Years spent chasing that boy, wanting his head… and now it was being handed to him on a silver platter by his own superiors. The Navy knew. They had always known. They had simply waited for the right moment to strike.

“We’ll fix this, Smoker. We didn’t think we’d get caught this soon, but… we had a plan.” Ace spoke softly, the way he always did when he was trying to defuse a bomb.

Smoker clenched his jaw. “I know. It’s just… strange. Being on the other side. The people I thought of as colleagues, as friends… they’ll be against me now. I expected it. But it still hurts.”

Ace nodded calmly. “True. And on the pirate side, you won’t exactly be welcomed with open arms either.” A crooked smile. “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“No.” Smoker shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I don’t care. As long as I’m with you.”

Ace laughed softly, eyes crinkling. “You always know what to say too.”

Silence. Then Smoker, quieter: “We should leave. Really leave. Cut all ties. An island. Just the two of us. No more Marines. No more pirates. No one to hunt us, judge us, or demand anything from us.”

Ace looked at him for a long moment. “You know… it’s not entirely your fault. And I chose a Marine. That doesn’t mean I betrayed my family.” He stepped closer, wrapped his arms around Smoker’s waist. “We love each other. That’s all. The rest… we don’t care.”

Smoker closed his eyes. “You’re right. Why justify ourselves? Why owe anyone anything?”

“Exactly.” Ace smiled against his shoulder. “And we won’t tell anyone. We just disappear.”

“Not even your brothers?”

Ace hesitated. Just for a second. “…They’ll understand.”

---

Despite his words, he left a message. A scrap of paper with singed edges, slipped into a bottle and tossed into the sea with a code only Sabo and Luffy would understand. *We’re okay. Don’t look for us. Live.*
He couldn’t help himself.

Now he was packing the last of his things into a worn bag. Smoker was checking the boat for the tenth time. Supplies. Charts. Route. Everything calculated. Four days at sea. A forgotten island, off the trade routes, with no name on official maps. Paradise or a grave, depending on how you looked at it.

The sun was setting, heavy and red, like a dying ember.

Smoker climbed onto the deck, a bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped. Ace was leaning on the railing, hair dancing in the wind, eyes lost on the horizon. He was beautiful. Painfully beautiful. And painfully tired.

“Time to go,” Smoker murmured.

Ace turned, a slightly nervous smile on his lips. “Four days, right?”

“Yes. Four days.” Smoker stepped closer, placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re on the right course. No one will find us.”

Ace nestled against him without a word. Smoker wrapped an arm around his waist, pulled him closer. He pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then another, lower, on his temple.

“Just you and me,” he whispered.

“Just you and me,” Ace echoed, voice trembling slightly.

---

Night had fallen. Ace had fallen asleep against him on deck, head on his shoulder, fingers clutching Smoker’s shirt like a child.

Smoker smiled despite himself. “You’re tired, huh?”

“A little…” Ace yawned. “But I don’t want to leave you alone. We have to get there together.”

Smoker ran a hand slowly through his black hair. “We will. I promise. But go sleep now. I’ve got the watch.”

Ace lifted his head, eyes half-closed. “Wake me if you need me, okay?”

Smoker leaned in, kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. “Promise. Go rest. I’m here.”

Ace blushed faintly, buried his face against Smoker’s chest.
“I like it… when you take charge like this. When you take care of us. It makes me feel… safe.”

Smoker’s heart clenched. He tightened his hold. “I’ll always take care of you. Always.”

Ace nodded weakly. “…Yeah.”

He finally stood, swaying a little, and disappeared into the cabin.

Smoker watched him go. Then he turned to the sea, black and endless.

He gripped the helm. The stars were clear. The wind steady. No more Marines. No more pirates. No more duty, no more guilt, no more past.

There was only this promise, carved in salt and smoke:

He would get Ace to that island.
No matter what.

Just the two of them.

 

🚬🔥

Chapter Text

Buggy felt like screaming long before he even opened that damn newspaper. Luffy had already spilled everything the day before: Ace and that bastard Smoker, officially dating, plastered on the front page like the whole world needed to know where Ace stuck his tongue. Buggy had swallowed his rage, gritted his teeth, played the understanding big brother. And then this morning — boom — not satisfied with ruining his life with just one of his boyfriends in the headlines, they’d also slapped Mihawk and Shamrock across a double-page spread, complete with a global wanted poster for “Shamrock Figarland, dangerous criminal wanted dead or alive by the World Government.”
He was going to level Cross Guild. Single-handedly. With his bare hands. And his makeup already running from stress.

He burst into the meeting room, newspaper raised like a battle axe.

“YOU TWO PSYCHOS!”
The paper shook under his red nose, furious. “You ran off like lovesick teenagers on the first cargo ship, you’re hiding out at my place, and now the entire world is hunting you! I told you to stay the hell out of this!”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, expressive as a stone statue. Shamrock crossed his arms, arrogant smirk glued to his face.

“Bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” the Figarland drawled.

Buggy jabbed a trembling finger toward the table.

“And who the hell is THAT guy?!”

Crocodile exhaled a long plume of smoke, perfectly calm.

“Corazon. Doflamingo’s little brother. My man.”

Buggy’s brain short-circuited with an audible *bzzt*.

“Wait… Doflamingo’s brother? A former Celestial Dragon?! We’ve already got a Holy Knight on the run, the world’s greatest swordsman, and now a freaking ancestral saint of the sky?! I’m gonna drop dead before I’m forty, that’s the plan?!”

Corazon flashed his most angelic smile — the one that could melt glaciers — and finished Buggy off.

“Don’t worry, I’m discreet. As long as Doffy still thinks I’m dead and the Marines look the other way… we’re good.”

Buggy clutched his head with both hands.

“Do I look like a five-star hotel for wanted boyfriends on Yonko level or what?!”

Crocodile chuckled into his cigar.

“You bring your own share too, don’t you?”

Shamrock let out a mocking little laugh.

“I didn’t know clowns were capable of loving anything besides their own reflection.”

Buggy turned crimson under the makeup.

“Listen here, luxury Mihawk knock-off, mirrors worship me, got it? Anyone can get a boyfriend! Even you, apparently, since you managed to bag the biggest buzzkill on the planet!”

Right at that moment, the door opened.

“Captain Buggy! Your… uh… your boyfriend is here.”

Dead silence.

Every pair of eyes locked onto the clown.

“…Luffy?” Buggy croaked.

“No, Captain.”

“…Law?”

“Not really anymore. It’s… Koby. The Marine hero.”

Buggy went ghost-white. His knees buckled.

Shamrock’s eyes widened for half a second — a miracle. Mihawk smirked. Crocodile nearly choked on his smoke.

“Koby?” they echoed in perfect unison.

“SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!”

Koby walked straight in, exhausted but still adorable with his pink hair all messy, and threw himself into Buggy’s arms.

“Buggy! I couldn’t reach Luffy, Law’s not answering, I was worried sick!”

The clown caught him on reflex and automatically stroked his hair.

“Shhh, baby, Luffy’s fine. He’s just digesting the Ace-Smoker thing like the rest of us.”

Koby looked up at the table, spotted Shamrock and blinked.

“Wow… that’s really Shamrock Figarland? You guys should call the lawyers, right? And… Corazon-san?!”

Corazon gave a lazy salute, Crocodile’s cigar between his lips.

Shamrock tapped the table lightly.

“So… he’s staying on your lap during the meeting, or are we pretending that’s normal? I thought this wasn’t a hotel.”

Buggy hugged Koby tighter, daring the world.

“I changed my mind. My house, my rules.”

Then, whispering in Koby’s ear:

“Babe… got any fresh Marine intel?”

Koby lowered his voice.

“I shouldn’t say, but… HQ is on fire. Apparently Doflamingo is dating Fujitora now. Akainu lost his shit — threw his desk out the window when he found out Fujitora helped Doffy escape Impel Down.”

Corazon froze mid-drag.

“…My brother. Of course.”

Koby’s eyes went wide.

“Wait… your brother tried to kill you and now he’s dating an admiral?! Am I the only one shocked by this?!”

Buggy rubbed his back, world-weary.

“Welcome to my life, sweetheart. Open bar on fratricide and toxic relationships.”

Shamrock leaned forward, genuinely curious.

“So let’s recap: you’ve got Luffy, Law, and Koby. Crocodile’s got Corazon. Mihawk’s got… me. Are we officially the club of dudes collecting impossible relationships, or did I miss a memo?”

Mihawk finally rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched — practically a love declaration from him.

Buggy sighed like a Greek tragedy.

“We’re just… gonna survive this week, okay? Then I’m taking a vacation. Far away. Very far. Like an island where nobody dates an admiral, a Celestial Dragon, or a Marine hero.”

Koby raised a shy hand.

“…Can I come?”

Buggy squeezed him tighter.

“You, always.”

Shamrock traded a look with Mihawk, shrugged, and muttered:

“Guess it really is a hotel.”

And for the first time that morning, everyone — even Mihawk — burst out laughing.

 

🤡💖

Chapter Text

Perona was sprawled across her candy-pink leather sofa, legs tucked under her, a glittery black nail-polish brush in one hand and a crumpled fashion magazine in the other. The sharp smell of nail-polish remover hung in the air as she carefully painted her toenails, the little Den Den Mushi wedged between her shoulder and ear.

“…Honestly, Nami, after everything we read in the papers, I’m terrified it’s going to ruin my relationship with Tashigi,” the navigator sighed, her voice shaky. “She was part of Smoker’s inner circle, can you imagine?”

Perona blew on her toes to dry the polish, a mocking smile on her lips.

“Poor baby… Things aren’t great with Reiju either. Her dad’s a total psychopath in a suit.”

On the other end of the snail, the distinct sound of a brush running through Nami’s orange hair could be heard.

“This world has gone completely insane,” she muttered. “Dad swore to me that he and that ‘Heavenly Knight’ were actually together—nothing like the fling those rags are claiming. And that story about ‘Smoker and Ace lost at sea’? Just another Marine lie to cover up who-knows-what.”

“Mihawk kidnapping a Celestial Dragon?” Perona burst into crystalline laughter. “Total nonsense. Dad’s way too classy to get his hands dirty with that kind of clown show.”

Nami snorted.

“I tried talking to Zoro about it—he basically told me to mind my own ass and went back to napping.”

“Zoro and Dad are walking tombs. Good luck getting anything out of them. Though I did overhear Dad muttering that Cross Guild’s new recruit was ‘Crocodile’s woman’… and that Buggy is officially dating Koby.”

A stunned silence, then Nami nearly screamed:

“KOBY?! The little glasses-wearing geek who used to stutter whenever we talked to him?! Luffy told me he was with Buggy, but… did they break up?”

Perona rolled her eyes.

“No, no—Buggy just built himself a personal harem. Apparently he collects pretty repentant Marine officers now. That clown has more luck than talent.”

Nami cracked up.

“The guy’s a walking disaster, I swear!”

Perona turned serious again, setting down the brush.

“Anyway, enough about that circus. You and Tashigi… You’re really going to leave her rotting alone in that rotten Marine? Without Smoker to watch her back, if they start digging into the Ace-Smoker thing, they could easily turn on her.”

Nami swallowed hard.

“…You’re right. I’m telling her to resign. Some fake health issue, anything. I can’t lose her because of those bureaucrats.”

“Send her a coded letter—I’ve become a pro thanks to Judge snooping through Reiju’s mail. The guy’s a nightmare.”

“What an absolute asshole.”

“Dad, on the other hand, is dying to meet Reiju,” Perona snickered, checking herself in a pocket mirror. “I think he wants to see if she’s worthy of his precious little girl.”

Nami burst out laughing.

“Mihawk playing protective dad… I can’t picture him with tea and cookies.”

“Me neither. So I’m planning to extract her from Germa and bring her straight to Karai Bari. Two birds, one stone—I infiltrate Cross Guild at the same time.”

A rustling of paper came through the snail.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Nami sounded like she was choking. “Did you see today’s newspaper?!”

Perona grabbed the copy lying on the coffee table, flipped it open, and shrieked:

“DONQUIXOTE DOFLAMINGO RELEASED FROM PRISON?! Have they lost their minds?!”

“No, you idiot! Page two!”

Perona frantically turned the page, eyes widening.

“…Hold on. Hold on a second. ‘Donquixote Rosinante, aka Corazon, spotted alive on Yonko Buggy’s territory, inside Cross Guild, alongside Sir Crocodile and Dracule Mihawk’… WHAT?!”

She nearly dropped the newspaper.

“Law told us he was DEAD! That Doflamingo killed him in cold blood!”

Nami whistled through her teeth.

“We’re knee-deep in a soap opera. If Doflamingo finds out the little brother he thought was dead is casually hanging out with Crocodile and Mihawk… he’ll show up in Karai Bari with his entire fleet.”

Perona collapsed back against the cushions, stunned.

“Men, I swear… Always shooting each other over dysfunctional family drama.”

She picked up the brush again, almost mechanically.

“I’ll keep an eye on it. If things heat up, I’ll warn Dad. In the meantime… did you see the ‘Fall Trends’ feature in Glamour Pirate?”

Nami groaned.

“I nearly choked. Who still wears feathered boots in 1525? I mentioned it to Robin—she was mortified on behalf of all humankind.”

The Den Den Mushi vibrated slightly: an incoming call on the other line.

“Reiju’s calling me,” Perona whispered. “Shall we postpone our gossip session?”

“Go save your toxic princess.”

“You too with Tashigi. Kiss her for me.”

Perona hung up, a predatory smile on her pink lips.

Cross Guild was about to gain a new floating goth… and, incidentally, one very angry Germa kingdom.

 

💖💘

Chapter Text

The salty wind of Marineford blew through the tall open windows of Sengoku’s office, making the white curtains flap softly. The scent of steaming green tea mingled with the sweeter aroma of freshly baked biscuits Tsuru had dropped off earlier, muttering something about “those two old men who’ll make a mess again.”

Sengoku slowly turned his cup between his fingers, staring into the swirling steam. Garp had already demolished half the plate and was casually wiping crumbs off his trousers.

“Still no news from Smoker or Ace,” Sengoku sighed. “Half the reports say they went down with their ship. And now Koby… missing for six days.”

Garp crunched loudly into a still-warm chocolate-chip biscuit. The chips melted on his tongue.

“Cross Guild, obviously. Those bounty-hunting bastards… Poor kid. But he’s tough, he’ll make it.” He shrugged, ever the optimist. “By the way… is there pizza for lunch?”

Sengoku raised a tired eyebrow.

“…You’re thinking about food right now?”

“Always.”

Silence. Then Garp set his cup down with a small clink, suddenly mischievous.

“Speaking of which… I have a theory.”

“About Koby?”

“Nope. About Sakazuki.”

Sengoku blinked.

“…Go on.”

“Everyone knows he used to be with Fujitora. But the kid lost his temper so often that Issho eventually dumped him like an old sock. Too much magma in the heart, not enough zen.”

Sengoku snorted despite himself.

“You think he found someone else to… channel all that?”

Garp leaned in, voice low, as if revealing the secret of a Poneglyph.

“I bet he has a new lover. And I have a pretty good idea who.”

“…You really want to go ask him?”

Garp jumped up, already heading for the door.

“Of course! Since when are we afraid of an angry brat?”

Sengoku sighed deeply, but followed anyway.

*-*-*

The corridor leading to the Fleet Admiral’s office smelled of cold metal and freshly waxed floors. The buzzing fluorescent lights cast harsh white light on the walls. Garp strode ahead, biscuit tin under his arm, still chewing.

“You really think he has a secret mistress?” he asked, mouth half-full.

“With the tension that boy carries around? He has to let it out somewhere. And I doubt it’s during staff meetings.”

They stopped in front of the huge mahogany door. A gleaming brass plate read:
“Fleet Admiral Sakazuki – Entry by appointment only”

Garp pressed his ear to the wood like a conspirator.

“Shhh.”

A heavy thud. Then a deep, hoarse moan. Followed by another, lighter, almost lazy one.

Sengoku frowned.

Another crash. The creak of abused furniture.

“Stop squirming like that, Kuzan… you’re going to melt on the new carpet…”

A tired sigh, then a drawling, icy voice:

“Sakazuki… seriously… not on Borsalino’s desk, he’ll complain again…”

The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a sword.

Garp slowly stepped back, eyes wide. A biscuit crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth.

“…I always knew he had fire in his belly, but this…”

Sengoku pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to leave a red mark.

“We… we’ll come back later.”

“Or never.”

They turned around silently, save for the quiet crunch of Garp shoving the last biscuit into his mouth for comfort.

*-*-*

End of the day. The corridors were nearly empty; only the distant click-clack of secretaries’ heels still echoed. The smell of the cafeteria — fried food, burnt coffee, curry rice — already floated in the air.

Garp nibbled on a madeleine as they walked.

“Think we should ask him, just to be sure?”

“Ask what? Whether he’s doing push-ups on Kuzan or if they’re really redecorating Borsalino’s desk?”

“Both, maybe.”

Sengoku was about to reply when they turned a corner.

And saw them.

Sakazuki, impeccable in his white suit, tie perfectly knotted — but lips slightly swollen, cheeks unusually flushed.
Kuzan, leaning against a pillar, coat open, glasses pushed up into his messy hair, a trace of lipstick (or magma?) at the corner of his neck.

They were kissing. Slowly. Passionately. As if the world no longer existed.

Until Sakazuki’s one good eye opened.
And met Garp’s.

Time froze.

Kuzan lazily turned his head, spotted the two legends standing there like salt statues, and simply shrugged with his usual “meh” attitude. He gently patted Sakazuki’s chest — a surprisingly tender gesture — and the Fleet Admiral relaxed a fraction, even though smoke was starting to leak from his ears.

Garp, true to form, decided the best defense was absolute denial.

“Ahem. Looks like this corridor doesn’t lead to the cafeteria after all, Sengoku.”

Sengoku stared at an imaginary spot above their heads.

“No. It’s… a wall. A very nice, brand-new wall.”

“Let’s turn back.”

“Immediately.”

They pivoted in perfect sync, hands behind their backs, marching away with the stiff dignity of old generals on parade.

Once out of sight, Garp whispered:

“Mystery solved.”

Sengoku exhaled.

“He’s not single.”

“He’s very taken.”

*-*-*

Next morning, break room. 9:37 a.m.

The Grand Line Weekly lay open on the table, screaming headline:

“FIRE AND ICE: ARE SAKAZUKI AND KUZAN SECRET LOVERS?”

Blurry (but recognizable) photo of the two men against the pillar. Caption: “Witness mentions a ‘suspicious wall’.”

Garp sipped his coffee, feigning outrage. Sengoku read over his shoulder.

“Look at this rag! Two colleagues talking and boom — they’re engaged. What a time to be alive!”

“Mmm. Talking… with tongues,” Sengoku muttered.

Garp choked, sprayed half his coffee across the paper.

“We… we didn’t see anything, right?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Just a wall.”

“Beautiful wall.”

Tsuru walked in at that moment, cup in hand, eyes sharp as swords.

“You saw the article?”

Garp and Sengoku, in perfect unison, without even looking at each other:

“What article?”

She stared at them for a long moment, sighed, shook her head and left.

Garp waited until the door closed.

“…We’re not gossips.”

“Never.”

“We observe. We analyze.”

“And sometimes… we forget very quickly.”

They nodded solemnly, finished their coffee, and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Behind them, the coffee-soaked newspaper dripped slowly onto the table, headline half washed away.

But at Marineford, some rumors — even soaked ones — never truly die.

💗💖

Chapter Text

After her conversation with Nami, Perona had made up her mind.

Her fingers were still trembling around the silent den den mushi. Nami’s voice kept echoing in her head: *“You don’t have to stay in the shadows, Perona. Protect what you love.”*

And what she loved… was Reiju.

She no longer had the luxury of waiting. No more room for doubt, no more pleading with Judge Vinsmoke—that cold father who treated his own daughter like a tool, a weapon.

And Perona wasn’t the type to back down.

That very night, she slipped into Germa’s laboratory like a ghost. She knew the layout by heart: patrol schedules, camera blind spots, every vent and shadow. She had planned everything.

Reiju was locked inside an observation room. A prison disguised as a sterile bedroom. A cell hidden behind glass and false kindness.

Perona entered without a sound.

She pushed the door open and declared, voice steady but shaking with emotion:

“You’re coming with me, Reiju. This time, *I’m* the one protecting you.”

Reiju looked up, startled. A second of hesitation. Then she saw it—that look in Perona’s eyes no one had ever given her before. A look that said: *I’m ready to lose everything for you.*

She nodded silently. Together, they fled—through shadows and sleeping machines.

But Perona wasn’t running blind. She knew exactly where to go. Not some distant island. Not a temporary hideout.

No.

She went straight to the one man she trusted completely.

Her father. Dracule Mihawk.

And Mihawk now resided… with the Cross Guild.

---

Night had fallen, draping the sea in pitch black.

The stolen dinghy drifted silently, leaving only the soft slap of water against its sides.

Reiju sat at the bow, staring blankly at the horizon. Her pink hair danced in the salty breeze. She said nothing, but Perona, at the stern with her hands on the tiller, kept stealing glances. Constantly.

After a long silence, Perona whispered:

“Do you regret it?”

Reiju turned slowly, a weary, almost pained smile on her lips.

“No. Not for a second.”

She hesitated, then added softly:

“I just… never thought anyone would come for me.”

Perona let go of the tiller and slid down beside her. Their knees brushed. The capes they’d stolen from Germa soldiers tangled together.

“I came,” Perona said simply, chin high, almost proud.

“I promised you, didn’t I?”

Reiju lowered her gaze. Her fingers brushed Perona’s.

“You’re different… from anyone I’ve ever known.”

Perona flushed, but held her stare.

“Good. I’m not a Vinsmoke. I’m Perona—badass ghost princess, and…” She took a deep breath, then plunged: “and I want to make you happy.”

Reiju let out a small, fragile laugh—real, for once. She cupped Perona’s cheek gently, as if memorizing the moment.

“You already do. You’re the only person who ever risked everything for me.”

Perona swallowed hard, heart hammering.

“That’s just… natural, right?” She hesitated, then whispered even softer: “You matter to me. You’re… the one I love.”

Reiju’s eyes softened, grew brighter.

She leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Their breaths mingled—warm, shy.

“I love you too, Perona,” Reiju murmured.

And they kissed. Slow, salty, tender. A kiss that said thank you, I’m here, stay with me forever.

---

The sea turned treacherous.

Not a storm—just heavy, icy swells that made the old planks groan. The sky was endless black.

Perona held Reiju tighter. The other woman was shivering, breath ragged, her superhuman body finally giving out.

“Are you cold?” Perona whispered, clutching her closer.

“I’ve got you. I won’t let go.”

Reiju managed a weak nod, cheek pressed to Perona’s neck.

“I’m sorry… I can’t… move anymore.”

Panic clawed at Perona’s chest. She scanned the horizon: nothing. Just waves, darkness… and their boat slowly dying.

She dug into her pocket.

“Thank you, paranoid reflexes,” she muttered, pulling out a battered mini den den mushi—still working.

She clutched it to her chest and rasped:

“Dad… it’s me. Dad, please pick up…”

A low, tense voice answered instantly:

“Perona? Are you hurt? Where are you?”

Her voice cracked.

“I’ve got Reiju. We escaped. I’ll explain everything. But we’re stranded—the boat’s falling apart. She’s… she’s fading. And me? Well, I can’t exactly float, okay?”

Silence. The kind of silence Perona knew too well. Not hesitation. Cold, promised retribution.

“Send me your position. I’m coming now.”

“Trust me, we haven’t gone far. We’re basically a cork bobbing around.”

“Hold on. I will *never* abandon you, Perona.”

She hung up, hands shaking.

---

Reiju cracked her eyes open.

“You called him?”

“Yeah. And trust me—no one messes with Mihawk when his daughter’s in danger. Not even the ocean.”

---

Back at Cross Guild headquarters:

“And NOW what?!” Buggy wailed dramatically, flailing his detached hands.

“Perona needs help? Poor thing!” Koby said, already grabbing a coat.

“You know Mihawk’s kid?” Buggy spun toward him.

“She helped me escape Hachinosu,” Koby replied. “I helped her back. Fair trade. She was genuinely sweet.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes so hard it was audible.

“That girl is going to give me grey hairs…”

“I bet Shamrock will still think you’re hot!” Buggy cackled, barely dodging a lazy slash from Yoru.

“You absolute bastard! You mock me but sulk the second I snap back!”

“Fair,” Koby nodded solemnly.

Shamrock snorted from the railing.

“You walked right into that one, Buggy,” Mihawk growled.

“Shut up! I hate you almost as much as I hate Shanks!”

“Captain Buggy!!”

“I’m not here, I’m not here—”

Crocodile hooked Buggy by the collar with his golden claw and dropped him in front of the frantic messenger.

“Captain Buggy!!”

“WHAT?!”

“Did you ever meet Sakazuki and Kuzan?!”

“Huh?! Why the hell would I care about—Prepare a ship for Mihawk and his weird pink girlfriend! We’re saving the goth ghost-vampire princess!”

“WHO?!”

“MOVE IT!”

---

Out on the raging sea, a low rumble split the waves.

A sleek black ship cut through the night, Mihawk’s personal emblem proud on the sails.

Perona looked up, heart in her throat.

“He’s here… he’s really here.”

Mihawk stood at the prow, cape snapping in the wind. Shamrock gripped an anchor beside him. On deck: Crocodile grumbling, Buggy whining, Koby waving a lantern like a madman, and Corazon already hurling a rope.

Perona burst out laughing through tears.

“I asked for Dad… NOT THE ENTIRE CIRCUS!”

Reiju, barely standing, laughed too—weak but bright.

“You might be more important than you realize.”

Mihawk leapt, landing perfectly in the dinghy. He knelt in front of his daughter and cupped her face.

“You okay?”

She nodded, eyes shining.

“I did it. I escaped. I protected the person I love.”

He looked at Reiju… and offered his hand.

“Welcome to the family, Reiju. You’re one of us now.”

She took it. This time, her hand didn’t tremble at all.

And as the Cross Guild ship pulled them aboard—Buggy still screaming directions no one listened to, Crocodile lighting a victory cigar, Koby fussing over blankets—the sea finally calmed.

Two princesses, one ghost and one poison-pink, wrapped in the same cloak, watching the stars reappear.

Safe.

Loved.

Free.

💖💕

Chapter Text

The ship had been slicing through the waves for hours. Curled up on a soft bunk under a warm blanket, Reiju was slowly regaining some color. Perona, meanwhile, was pacing the upper deck, arms crossed, lips pressed tight in concentration.

Mihawk watched her out of the corner of his eye. He recognized that look—she was rehearsing a speech. One of those speeches she repeated silently, word for word, like her life depended on it.

Finally she spun toward him, fists on her hips.

“You’re really not going to say anything?”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow.

“I fished you out of the middle of the ocean. Covered in mascara, half-frozen, shaking like a leaf. I’m just relieved you’re alive. I suppose that counts as ‘welcome home.’”

Perona stared at him. Then she exhaled.

“Yeah… you’re right. Thank you, Dad.”

A silence. A real one—soft, awkward, and warm.

“She seems… nice, that girl.”

Perona flushed.

“Yeah. And… I actually wanted to introduce you to her.” She took a deep breath. “Reiju is my girlfriend. I love her.”

Mihawk didn’t answer right away. Arms still crossed, his gaze drifted slightly.

“You know you don’t need my approval to love someone.”

“Maybe not. But I wanted to tell you anyway. Because you’re my dad. And I want you to meet the people who matter to me—just like I want to meet the ones who matter to you.”

A faint smile ghosted across the swordsman’s lips.

“Hm. I see.”

And as if on cue, the wheelhouse door slid open without a sound. Shamrock stepped out, bare-armed despite the wind, a green scarf around his neck and a sword at his hip.

He grinned as he approached.

“Talking about me?”

Mihawk pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Not yet. But I suppose we’re getting there.”

Perona studied the man with open curiosity. He looked relaxed—almost flippant—but his eyes were sharp, an intense green.

“You’re Shamrock?”

He dipped his head with a lopsided smile.

“In the flesh. And you must be the famous Perona. The girl who made Mihawk cry in secret.”

“He cries?” Perona asked, instantly fascinated.

“Only when you’re asleep,” Shamrock fired back without missing a beat, earning an annoyed “tch” from Mihawk.

Perona stared at her father for a few seconds. Then she smiled—genuinely.

“Okay. I like you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, little ghost princess.”

She turned back to Mihawk.

“He’s less insufferable than you. I get it now.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes, arms still folded.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

At that exact moment, Reiju stepped softly onto the deck, wrapped in a long dark cape. Her complexion had improved a little, but she still looked exhausted. Perona rushed over and slipped an arm around her waist, beaming with pride.

“Shamrock, Mihawk… this is Reiju. My girlfriend. The one I love. The one I left everything for.”

Reiju bowed politely, suddenly shy.

“Pleased to meet you. And thank you for taking us in.”

Mihawk studied her for a moment, then nodded.

“You’re strong. I can tell you’re no ordinary person. But above all… you helped her get better. That’s all that matters to me.”

Reiju smiled, visibly moved.

Shamrock winked at Perona.

“You know your dad wore the exact same face when he realized he was in love with me? Like ‘I’m going to die’ but make it classy.”

“Wait. So Dad actually confessed?”

“With a look. And a grunt. I translated.”

“Perfect. Romantic comedy is hereditary.” Perona pretended to wipe away a tear. “Thank you. For everything.”

Mihawk let out a long, suffering sigh.

“One day I’ll have a peaceful life. No sarcasm. No drama. No… Buggy.”

“Too late,” Shamrock murmured, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve got a daughter, a lover, and a crew. You’re doomed.”

Perona giggled. Reiju gave a timid smile.

And for the first time in a long while, Mihawk allowed himself a small, genuine smile.

---

Buggy detonated—literally and figuratively—his limbs flailing in every direction while he screamed:

“YOU! You’re Vinsmoke Judge’s daughter?! I’M DONE babysitting problem children!”

Koby, clinging to Corazon, nearly whimpered:

“You’re going to have a heart attack, Buggy-san!” he cried, hugging the clown tighter.

“Of course I’m going to die! I’m too old for this crap!” Buggy wailed, floating in pieces, his hands spinning above him like panicked propellers.

Crocodile, leaning casually against the railing, muttered:

“You’re not exactly young yourself.”

“You’re only like seven or eight years older than me, you depressed crocodile handbag?!” Buggy snapped back.

Corazon nodded slowly.

“Hmm, true. But as they say… aging is like fine wine.”

“I see, I see…” Buggy nodded thoughtfully—then screamed again:

“NOBODY CARES IF YOUR MAN TASTES LIKE BORDEAUX!”

“Oh my, Buggy-san, are you mad at me now?” Corazon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Buggy jabbed an accusatory finger—or several—at him.

“YOU’RE part of the problem too! Don’t you people get it?! Corazon is a FORMER MARINE, Sengoku’s adopted son, OFFICIALLY DEAD—murdered by his own brother! Guess who?!”

“Ooh! I know!” Koby raised his hand. “Doflamingo!”

“Exactly!” Buggy pointed dramatically. “Thank you, Koby. At least someone’s paying attention.”

“Good job, Koby-kun!” Perona patted his shoulder proudly.

Still spiraling, Buggy whirled around and pointed at Shamrock.

“Next! Shamrock! Shanks’ twin brother! And—oh yeah—a goddamn Celestial Dragon!”

“When you put it like that, it does sound pretty bad…” Corazon mused, pursing his lips.

“And you forgot one thing,” he added lightly. “Doflamingo’s out of prison now. He’ll probably hunt me down, torture me… maybe murder all of you while he’s at it. So… there you go.”

“I HATE ALL OF YOU!” Buggy shrieked, arms flapping.

“No, Buggy-san!” Koby wailed, burying his face in the clown’s floating torso.

Buggy wrapped one reattached arm around him and declared theatrically:

“Everyone… EXCEPT Koby!”

Then he slowly pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at the rest of the group—slow, menacing.

“I’m watching you. All of you.”

---

Mihawk let out another deep, long-suffering sigh.

“…You are physically incapable of going an hour without losing it.”

Buggy struck a dramatic pose.

“And that’s exactly why you all love me.”

Shamrock arched a brow.

“No. That’s why we tie you up at night.”

---

“Good day!” came a clear, composed voice as a young woman approached calmly.

She bowed gracefully, her light dress fluttering in the breeze.

“My name is Vinsmoke Reiju. Eldest of the Vinsmoke family. Daughter of Judge Vinsmoke. And yes…” She lifted her head, still wearing that gentle smile, “I’m Sanji’s big sister.”

Then, with unnerving grace, she added:

“If you ever lay a finger on her… I know fifty-nine ways to kill you and gut you like a fish.”

The sweet smile returned instantly, as if nothing had happened.

“I’m also Perona’s girlfriend. Thank you for looking after me—and her—on your island, Honorable Emperor Buggy the Clown.”

Buggy, already nursing the mother of all migraines, pressed a dramatic hand to his forehead.

“Please… you are officially Mihawk’s responsibility now. You’re like his second daughter. Do not ask me for anything. You terrify me.”

“Thank you so much!” Reiju replied sincerely. “I promise I’ll be useful. I’m a very efficient assassin. If you ever need help with missions… or torture, I’m at your service.”

Buggy stared at her for a long, long moment. Then he turned to Mihawk.

“Can you please stop adopting dangerous people? My heart can’t take it.”

Mihawk didn’t even glance up from his book.

“You’re the one who wanted to be an Emperor.”

“I wanted a crown, not a chaotic daycare!”

Reiju blinked innocently.

“Would you like some tea? Or should I go slice someone into pieces? I’m good with both.”

Koby raised a timid hand.

“Tea… tea sounds really nice actually.”

Buggy rolled his eyes to the heavens.

“We’re all going to die. And we’ll die smiling.”

 

💘❤️‍🔥

Chapter Text

The sharp snap of the folded newspaper echoed through the cabin. Trafalgar Law froze, eyes locked on the front-page article.

Then, very calmly, he said:

“Well now.”

On the cover: Vinsmoke Reiju. Spotted alongside the Cross Guild. Rumors of a liaison with Perona, protégé of Dracule Mihawk. A special bounty placed by Vinsmoke Judge himself for the recovery of his daughter, dead or alive. Amount confidential but astronomical.

Law raised an eyebrow.
“Looks like there are families more dysfunctional than mine.”

He casually rolled up the paper and tossed it behind him. It hit the wall with a soft plop. He didn’t even glance at it.

“Bepo.”

The mink, reading a cooking magazine upside-down, immediately looked up.

“Yes, captain?”

“Change our course. New destination: Buggy’s island.”

“The Cross Guild? But… why?”

Law stood and stretched lazily like a big cat. He was craving something. Or rather, someone.

Or several someones.

“Let’s just say I have… personal matters to attend to.” He paused, his voice softening.
“I miss my little Koby. And Buggy too. My lovers probably think I’ve forgotten them.”

Bepo’s eyes went wide, his mouth forming a surprised little o, but he made no comment.

Two days of sailing. Enough time to plan… or improvise.
Law cast a final glance toward the porthole.

“Reiju, huh? You’ve really chosen a nest of vipers, princess. Let’s hope you don’t burn your wings.”

He sighed softly, a thin smile on his lips.

“Or maybe we burn together.”

 

---

The air on the Cross Guild’s island was heavy, thick with humidity and restrained tension. A mist slowly rose from the hot ground as the submarine surfaced, and a dark silhouette emerged with slow authority.

Trafalgar D. Water Law.

Black coat open, gaze as sharp as the scalpels he wielded, he stepped ashore without a word.

He didn’t need to announce his presence. Two familiar figures approached at once.

“Well, well,” muttered Crocodile, wedging a cigar between his lips.
“Look who crawled back.”

Corazon froze for a moment. Then a soft, slightly sad smile stretched across his face.

“Law…”

The surgeon looked at him. For a moment, their eyes met, and something passed between them. A memory—old, painful, filled with a faded but real warmth.

Law stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Corazon.”

No hug. No dramatic reunion. Just a whisper.

But after a few seconds, Law withdrew his hand.

“I came for two people,” he murmured, walking away without looking back.

Corazon lowered his eyes, the smile still frozen in place.

“So it’s true?” he whispered to Crocodile, eyes locked on Law’s retreating figure.
“That Buggy has a little harem of sugar babies?”

Crocodile grimaced, still staring toward the horizon.
“Looks like it.”

Behind them, a third voice growled.

“I don’t get it.” Shamrock frowned.
“Do they all have eyesight issues or something?”

“Hn. It is indeed… curious,” added Mihawk, arms crossed, silently standing under a tree.

From a nearby bush, Perona leaned toward Reiju, eyes gleaming mischievously.

“I love this. Who are we spying on?” she whispered.

“Buggy, Law, and Koby,” Reiju replied, pointing toward a gaudy tent.
“They went in there.”

 

---

Inside the Tent

Koby let out a joyful cry upon seeing Law enter.

“Law-san! You're here! I missed you!”

He ran straight to him, almost bumping into his chest, and Law — still wearing his bored expression — gently ruffled his hair, the corner of his lips lifting just slightly.

“You’ve grown.”

Then another voice — louder, more nasal, but genuinely warm — rang out:

“Finally! I thought you died somewhere under your eyebags!” exclaimed Buggy with a beaming smile.

Law gave a quiet, choked laugh.
“I’m glad to see you both again.”

Buggy patted his back lightly.
“Good thing you came. You’re still my personal little surgeon. And Koby was bored to death.”

Koby blushed furiously.

Law remained stoic… but his eyes held that calm, content glow they hadn’t shown in a long time.

 

---

Inside the Tent

The curtains were drawn, the fabric rustling softly in the salty breeze. No one noticed the silhouettes crouched behind the tent, ears pressed to the fabric.

Perona, Reiju, Shamrock, Mihawk — and even Crocodile — silent as corpses, were passing a tiny den-den mushi with the volume turned low.

Inside the Tent

Law slumped onto the couch, bored but focused. He spread his legs without shame, and Koby, without thinking, settled naturally into his lap. He’d gotten used to that during their last voyage.

“I read the newspaper,” Law began, fixing Buggy with a stare.

“Are you running a charity now?”

Buggy rolled his eyes.
“I’m not the one attracting sentimental orphans,” he muttered.
“I’m just being nice.”

“Buggy-san didn’t have a choice,” Koby chimed in, arms crossed over his chest.
“Have you seen the brutes he has to manage? And… he has a big heart.”

He looked at Buggy with stars in his eyes, making Law grimace.

“That’s a problem,” Law declared coldly.

“Buggy-san already knows that,” Koby replied, a little hurt.

But Law placed a hand on his thigh, almost as if to anchor him.

“You don’t understand, Koby. He’s already a target just for being an Emperor. But on top of that, he’s dating me, you — a Marine — and Luffy. Another Emperor.”

“Yeah, but nobody knows—”

**“You wish. With all the secrets leaking lately… Let me be cautious. There’s a Celestial Knight on this island, my father, Corazon, is here too…”

“You call him your father now?! And you do know he’s dating Crocodile?!”

“Koby. I don’t care. What I’m saying is, Corazon’s a liability too. Doflamingo’s still out there, I’m a target by association. And the sister of Black Leg? She’s already on the front page holding a sword with a psycho smile.”

Koby sighed.
“You’re being really pessimistic, Law.”

Buggy raised a hand, calm personified — though a nervous tic twitched in his brow.

“Koby. Law.”

They both turned to him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone.

“This is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell them. We’ve been targets for a long time. And these idiots keep adding anchors to my ankles. But whatever.”

He stood, arms crossed, wearing a solemn expression.

“You two. You’re going to listen to me now. We’re contacting Luffy. He needs to come here. Better to be together than scattered. More hands won’t hurt.”

His eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening.

“I have a plan for us. If the Cross Guild goes down, the others can go down with it. But I’ll protect my family. And that means you two.”

Law and Koby fell silent for a moment. Then, almost in unison:

“Understood, Buggy-san.”

 

---

Behind the Tent

Silence.

Then a soft click — the den-den mushi shut off.

“…Holy crap,” whispered Shamrock.
“Buggy’s becoming sexy.”

“What’s with this latent charisma?” muttered Perona, mouth slightly open.

“I think I respected him for ten whole seconds,” said Mihawk flatly.

Crocodile took a drag of his cigar, looking vaguely thoughtful.

“Hn. Looks like he’s thinking.”

“Buggy’s the boss, huh?” Reiju whispered.
“I think I’m starting to understand why. He’s more dangerous than he looks.”

“Tch. Makes me want to help him,” grumbled Crocodile, walking away.

 

---

Chapter Text

A guttural, deep laugh — almost rusted from years of isolation — echoed through the empty hall. The sound of broken chains still seemed to linger in the air, even though he had been free for several days now. Crumpled newspapers littered the dusty floor — one near his boot, another crushed against the armrest of his improvised throne.

"Fufufu… What a time to be reborn."

He pushed aside a paper with his foot and picked up another, glasses sliding down his nose. He pushed them back up with a gloved finger, eyes narrowing at the headlines:

"Fleet Admiral living with ex-Admiral Aokiji?"

"Cross Guild opens sanctuary for illegitimate lovers and fallen nobles."

"New pink princess: Vinsmoke Reiju under the thumb of Perona, Mihawk’s daughter."

Another laugh shook his shoulders. He bit the corner of the paper.

"Akainu with Kuzan?" He rubbed his chin. "I always knew that tension would explode… just not in that direction. Fufufu. Pathetic and delightful."

His eyes slid over a blurry photo of Perona holding Reiju’s hand, the two seated on a boat, clearly on a mission.

"The daughter of Mihawk and the daughter of Vinsmoke Judge… dating? Fufufu… Those old bastards must be having nightmares."
He narrowed his eyes. "That would make a fine royal alliance. A kingdom of shadows and poison. Interesting."

Then his gaze fell on a nearly faded article. A familiar silhouette stood just behind another man — one he’d recognize in any storm: Rosinante.

A heavy silence settled.

"...Still alive, huh, Onii-san?" Doflamingo murmured, his smile stiff, almost trembling.

He clenched the paper so tightly it tore, then let it fall to the ground. He rose slowly, his joints cracking as he straightened.

"Crocodile, still at his side... Tch. You were always half mine, and you knew it."

His voice deepened, turning almost hoarse.

"You know I’m coming back. You know I’ll take you back. Whether it’s Crocodile, Mihawk, or your sweet little adoptive son… I’ll destroy it all. Everything you built in my absence."

He lazily raised a hand, fingers slicing through the air like invisible threads he still controlled.

"Mihawk with a Celestial Knight? I hope he's more obedient than you, Crocodile..."

And then, his laugh returned — lower, deeper.

"Smoker and Ace… on the run. More lovers lost in the mist."

He dropped one last newspaper. This time, it bore a photo of Buggy as Emperor, surrounded by Koby, Law, and Luffy in the background.

"And him… the chosen one of chaos. Fufufu… You have no idea what you’ve stepped into, clown. But I thank you. You’ve gathered all my targets in one place."

Doflamingo stood up fully.

"Daddy’s coming home, children. Prepare your traps, reinforce your walls..."
He ran his tongue across his teeth. "I’m here for the fireworks."

 

---

In an abandoned pavilion atop a cliff, the wind blew gently through torn curtains. A red sun bathed the room in an eerie, almost surreal light. At the center stood a wobbly low table, a steaming teapot placed neatly on top.

Fujitora held a cup of green tea between his calloused hands, his serene face turned toward the open air. Though his eyes were closed, it felt as though they pierced straight into the soul of his companion.

"You should stop plotting wicked schemes, Doflamingo," he murmured in a calm, almost warm tone.
"That kind of fire always ends up burning you."

Behind him, Doflamingo leaned against a beam, arms crossed, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Fufufu… It’s strange having you in my quarters, Isshou."
He stepped closer, hands in his pockets.
"I expected you to be the first to drag me back to a cell."

Fujitora didn’t flinch. He calmly brought the teacup to his lips.

"I’m no longer with the Marines, Doflamingo. This world’s too rotten to pretend we can see clearly anymore."

A silence settled between them.

"Besides…" he added softly, "Aren’t you glad your brother is alive?"

Doflamingo turned his gaze away, his smile vanishing briefly.

"...It’s more complicated than that."

"Tell me what you’re planning." Fujitora gently set down his cup.
"I know when you're staring at me."

The former Warlord walked slowly over to him, crouched, and rested an elbow on the table.

"I always look at what I love," he whispered teasingly, brushing his fingertips across the blind man's hand.

Fujitora didn’t pull away, though his face remained neutral.

"Your games don’t work on me anymore."

"I know. That’s why you attract me."
A tense silence.
"You want the truth? Fine."
Doflamingo’s smile widened, though his gaze darkened.
"I want back what’s mine. Crocodile, Rosinante, the respect of this world. And if I have to crush Buggy and his court of pretty little fools to do it, then I will."

"And me?" Fujitora asked calmly — no anger, no fear.

Doflamingo stared at him. A true silence fell.

"You… are free to leave. Free to stay. But if you stay, don’t ask me to be a better man. You’ll see a monster — and drink tea at his table."

Fujitora then slowly stood, using his sword as a cane.

"Then I’ll stay. To keep you from becoming worse."

He turned his head toward him, though his eyes could not see.

"And because, despite everything… I have affection for you, Donquixote."

 

---

The main gate of the Cross Guild island creaked open slowly, ominously.

The salty wind whipped at coats and sent the feathers of a long, white mantle fluttering — a silhouette infamous in the darkest corners of the world.

The alarmed cries stopped as soon as people saw… that Doflamingo wasn’t alone.

Just to his right, holding his sheathed sword, walked Fujitora — calm and steady, leaning on his cane. The blind former admiral inspired a quiet fear just as chilling as that of the Heavenly Demon.

But it was he who spoke first:

"Remember what we agreed on, Doflamingo."

Behind them, a poor underling had tried to flee. A chill ran through the gathered crowd. Everyone expected Doflamingo to snap his fingers.

But nothing happened.

He inhaled... slowly.

"Yes, yes... no killing, speak like a human, be nice, blah blah blah. I’m a changed man. Don’t you see my gentle, loving aura? Hm?"

He grinned. That smile, however, was anything but reassuring.

Fujitora remained unshaken.

"Number five on the list. Don’t listen to the voice in your head."

"Tch. It was just a bit loud. I put a pillow over it. Happy now?"

"Yes."

 

---

Chapter Text

Early Gossip Hour — Marine HQ Edition

In the quiet of Marine Headquarters, the office door clicked shut—double locked. No one could know what was happening here.

Sengoku unfolded the newspaper with the seriousness of a general in the middle of a world war. Garp chewed on a donut, leaning in behind him, eyes already scanning for the juicy gossip.

“Doflamingo spotted with Fujitora at the Cross Guild!” Sengoku read aloud, frowning.

“What?! But… why? Are they dating?!” Garp nearly choked on his donut.

“It’s not clear. Could be an alliance? But look at this—they were seen together at the market. Fujitora was carrying his bags.”

Silence.

They exchanged a look.

“He’s carrying his bags,” Sengoku murmured, detective mode activated.

“That’s couple behavior!” Garp agreed, mouth full.

They rushed to the giant whiteboard behind the desk, already covered in photos, colorful strings, heart-shaped magnets, and muffin crumbs.

Sengoku grabbed a red marker.

“Doflamingo and Fujitora: possibly a couple. Monitor closely.”

“And look at this!” Garp waved another clipping. “Crocodile spotted chatting discreetly with Corazon in a quiet café!”

“WHAT?!” Sengoku slapped the newspaper to his forehead. “Crocodile and Corazon?! But… Corazon was supposed to be dead! So it’s true—he’s alive... they have a real photo.”

“Maybe he came back to redeem his brother… to give him a second chance,” Garp suggested emotionally.

Sengoku added a new line on the board:
Crocodile ❤️ Corazon — Relationship confirmed?

They sat around the steaming teapot.

“Did Doflamingo ask his brother for a blessing? Is Fujitora the right one for him?”

“And is Crocodile… becoming soft? Because of love?”

Their faces were grave.

“We can’t let this go. We need more intel.”

Sengoku picked up a Den Den Mushi.

“Koby. Special mission. Infiltrate the Cross Guild. Observe everyone. And most importantly—bring photos.”

Outside, war raged on. But here, in this locked office...

It was tea time. And gossip hour.

 

---

The Den Den Mushi blinked, projecting a clear image on the wall of their secret headquarters. Sengoku squinted. Garp leaned closer to the snail.

“Here’s the photo… he just sent,” Sengoku said gravely.

“It must be Mihawk and Shamrock, right? Maybe kissing…” Garp whispered excitedly.

But no.

The image displayed a shirtless Koby lying against a very naked, sleeping Trafalgar Law. Sheets were messy, pink hair disheveled. A clownishly tattooed arm—clearly Buggy’s—was barely visible on the left side of the frame.

Sengoku went pale.
Garp opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
And then shouted:

“MY KOBY?! IN A THREESOME?!”

His teacup shattered in his hand. Scalding splashes hit the “Doflamingo/Corazon – Potential Gossip” file.

Sengoku froze, trembling finger pointed at the screen.

“I… I think he’s in Buggy and Law’s bed.”

“THIS ISN’T THE MISSION!!”

Garp stumbled back, grabbed the folder labeled Marine Promise – Innocent Youth to Watch, and hurled it in the trash.

“HE WAS OUR HOPE! OUR FLOWER RESCUED FROM THE DARKNESS!”

“We should’ve seen the signs…” Sengoku muttered. “Too many infiltration missions. Too many hot pirates. And that haircut… way too rebellious.”

Garp collapsed into his chair, clutching his chest.

“My grandson is dating an Emperor… and my protégé is getting sandwiched between a cynical surgeon and a sexual clown.”

“Where did we go wrong, Garp…”

Silence.
Only broken by the click of the Den Den Mushi sending another image by mistake.

Sengoku hesitated to look…
But Garp had already seen it.

“…Buggy’s biting his shoulder. OH GOOD LORD.”

“Turn it off. TURN IT OFF. We’re confiscating his line.”

“And his virtue, if there’s any left…”

 

---

Meanwhile, at the Cross Guild

Koby snored softly, nestled against Law’s warm chest, one leg draped over Buggy, who murmured in his sleep:
“Mmh… sexy when you talk about missions…”

 

---

The curtains were drawn. The teacups half full. A heavy silence lingered in the room.

Garp and Sengoku wept.

Not for war.
Not for fallen comrades.

But because their sweet Koby, their baby Marine, their rising star…
Had just shattered their hearts with one scandalous photo and torrid revelation.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Garp let another bomb drop.

“Wait…” Sengoku sniffled. “Did you just say your GRANDSON is DATING an EMPEROR?!”

“Well yes, that’s what he told me on our last call. ‘I’m happy, grandpa. I think I’m in love.’ And he had hearts in his eyes.”

Sengoku jumped to his feet, knocking over a pile of “Inter-Pirate Relationship Behavior Analysis” folders.

“NEW MISSION!” he roared.

“Which Emperor is dating Luffy?!” they shouted together, eyes ablaze.

They grabbed another whiteboard. New theme:
OPERATION GUILTY GRANDSON

On the board, they pinned photos:

Blackbeard: “Eliminate on sight. No discussion.”

Shanks: “Too paternal. That would be… disturbing.”

Buggy: “Possible. A clown, yes. But… he’s everywhere.”

 

Garp took a deep breath, sipping from his new mug (“BEST GRANDPA”).

“I don’t see it being Shanks. Luffy sees him like a father.”

“Wait, Garp… if Buggy is with Koby AND Law…” Sengoku froze in horror. “…he’s a royal polyamorous pirate?”

“…Which means he could be with Luffy too.”

They slowly turned toward the wall where the Den Den Mushi had projected the last image:
Koby in Law’s arms, both half-naked, Buggy’s tattooed arm wrapped around their waists.

A small frame in the corner displayed the time: 06:43
And the auto-caption: “Goodnight, my darlings ❤️”

Silence again.

“I think we’re done gossiping for today…” Garp whispered, eyes wet.

“Yeah,” Sengoku replied quietly, hands clasped like he was praying for a shred of dignity.

 

---

Elsewhere, in a quiet room at the Cross Guild…

Mihawk opened the door.
He saw the bed.
He saw the situation.

Koby curled up with Law.
Buggy between them.
An arm draped across both chests.

He closed the door.
Rubbed his eyes.
Then said coldly:

“…It’s even messier than I thought.”

And went to get coffee.

 

---

Chapter Text

Dawn barely brushed the horizon over Karai Bari Island, casting a ghostly light over the metal facades and damp cobblestones. The Cross Guild was waking up slowly, still heavy with sleep from the long night.
But something in the air was different.

Too calm.
Too quiet.
Too… dangerous.

Even Buggy had stopped screaming for more than fifty seconds. Suspicious.

 

---

 

Perona was the first one awake, sitting on the railing with crossed legs, sipping a neon-pink coffee from a heart-shaped mug. Below her, the island was peaceful. The sea breeze brushed her pink hair, fluttered Mihawk’s ship sails, while Reiju slept in the cabin — well, “slept” in a Reiju way: motionless, silent, yet aware of the slightest sound.

Then the air shifted.
A shiver ran across Perona’s skin.

“You feel it too, don’t you?" Reiju’s soft voice appeared behind her. She wore a light tunic borrowed from Perona’s wardrobe — too goth for her style, but surprisingly flattering.

“Yes…” Perona murmured, narrowing her eyes at the horizon. “Something’s coming. And it’s not the tide.”

Reiju placed a gentle hand over hers. “No matter what comes… we’ll face it together.”

Perona blushed, nodding.

Then they saw the silhouettes.

Two. Walking through a path that the panicked crowd opened for them.

Doflamingo.
Fujitora.

Perona whispered the most elegant possible: “Oh shit.”

Reiju inhaled deeply. “You should go warn your father.”

Somewhere behind them, Buggy screamed:

“OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIIIIIT!”

Too late.
Panic was already spreading.

 

---

 

The Cross Guild had never been famous for discipline.
But today, through some divine miracle, every mercenary, pirate, bounty hunter, and criminal stood perfectly straight, aligned like terrified soldiers, as if a single wrong breath could cost their life.

Doflamingo walked in front, steps light but filled with dangerous intent. His sunglasses glowed pink with the rising sky. Behind him, Fujitora walked slowly, cane-sword in hand, calm as a monk.

“Fufufu… What a charming little island…” Doflamingo purred.

Fujitora said nothing… but his face already looked exhausted.

 

---

 

Shamrock was the first to land in front of them, his green cloak snapping in the wind.

“So it’s true,” he said dryly. “The sad clown and the grumpy monk are inseparable now.”

He gave Doflamingo a smile with zero warmth. “Lost? Or here to blow up our ground again?”

“I had forgotten about you…” Doflamingo hummed, almost fond. “The little Figarland. Still mouthy.”

Shamrock drew his sword. Doflamingo smiled. The wind stopped blowing.

Then someone placed a hand on Shamrock’s shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid.” Mihawk didn’t raise his voice.

Shamrock frowned. “He’s dangerous.”

“Always,” Mihawk answered.

Crocodile had joined them, lazily dragging on his cigar.

Corazon arrived last.

Silence thickened.
Dangerously thickened.

 

---

 

Corazon didn’t step back. He didn’t speak. He simply stared at his brother with heartbreaking sadness.

Doflamingo smiled.
Too wide.
Too real.

“Rosi… They lied to me. They told me you were dead. Buried under six meters of stone and steel.”

Corazon replied quietly: “I was.”

Fujitora placed a hand on Doffy’s shoulder — a silent reminder.

The smile faded slightly.
A fraction.
Almost human.

“I see. You’re alive. And you’re hanging around… with enemies of the State.”

Corazon clenched his fists, stepping forward —
Crocodile’s arm shot out, stopping him.

“Not like this. Not now.”

Doflamingo tilted his head, amused: “Still protective, aren’t you… Crocodile?”

Crocodile snorted. “You didn’t expect applause for coming back, did you?”

A crack echoed — Doflamingo had stepped forward.
The ground fissured beneath him. Crocodile’s blood boiled with anger.

Fujitora tapped his cane on the ground.
The shock halted everything.

Doflamingo growled.

“Remember what we discussed.”

Mihawk whispered to Shamrock:

“We’re standing on a cliff’s edge. If one idiot breathes too loudly… the island explodes.”

Shamrock swallowed. “I’m breathing very softly. Very, very softly.”

 

---

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MESS?!”

Buggy zoomed in, floating in pieces like a furious balloon.
He pointed at Doflamingo.

“YOU! I DIDN’T INVITE YOU! You’re dangerous, unstable, unpredictable, psychopathic—”

“And sexy, according to Crocodile,” Doflamingo added.

“HE’S NOT EVEN WRONG!” Buggy shrieked.

Fujitora bowed politely. “Emperor Buggy. Forgive our intrusion. I am here to prevent… blood.”

Buggy froze.
Blink.
Blink.

“BLOOD?!”

Koby ran in and grabbed his neck: “Buggy-san! Calm down!”

“NO! TOO LATE FOR CALM!”

Law entered too, already bored and already ready to fight.

“Everyone with a cross-species relationship, retreat. I repeat: retreat,” he muttered.

 

---

 

Doflamingo observed Buggy… then Koby… then Law.

His glasses slid down slightly.

“Fufufufufu… So it’s true. Emperor Buggy has a harem.”

Buggy gasped. Koby turned tomato-red. Law raised one finger.

“Correction: we are three. Not a harem.”

“Three lovers?” Doflamingo echoed, delighted. “Wonderful. Pirate families have never been so… progressive.”

Crocodile crushed his cigar. “Don’t start.”

 

---

 

Then Perona and Reiju stepped onto the deck.

Doflamingo froze.
His expression sharpened.

“Reiju… Vinsmoke.”

Reiju bowed. “Hello.”

“Judge’s favorite,” Doflamingo hissed. “And you’re standing next to… Mihawk, Crocodile, Shamrock… and Perona. What a painting.”

Perona smiled coldly. “If you touch her, I’ll cut you into pieces.”

Doflamingo laughed — Then stopped when Mihawk slowly looked at him.

The threat in his eyes was unmistakable.

 

---

 

Birds shot into the air. An alarm bell rang. Someone screamed. A messenger sprinted down the stairs:

 

“CAPTAIN BUGGY!!! THE WORLD GOVERNMENT! THE MARINES! AND— AND GERMA 66 ARE COMING!!”

Everyone went pale.

Buggy blinked slowly.

Then exploded:

“THIS IS IT I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK THEY’RE ALL HERE TO KILL ME!”

Koby: “No! Buggy-san, we’ll fight together!”

Perona: “Judge… He’s coming for Reiju.”

Reiju turned white.

Crocodile: “She’s not going back to that sick family. Ever.”

Law drew his sword. “Marine + Government + Germa…”

Shamrock: “And we already have Doffy and Fujitora.”

Mihawk opened his eyes.

When he spoke, they glowed with cold determination.

“The island will become a battlefield.”

 

---

 

Buggy closed his eyes. One breath. Two. Three. Then he said, voice calm:

“We stay. We fight. And we protect everyone here.”

Silence.

Even the seagulls stopped. Law smiled faintly. Koby’s eyes watered. Perona stared like he had just revealed a holy relic. Reiju covered her mouth. Crocodile muttered: “Hn. I knew it.”

Shamrock whispered: “That damn latent charisma… again…”

Even Doflamingo raised an eyebrow.
Even Mihawk seemed impressed.

Buggy continued:

“This island isn’t a prison. Not a hideout.
It’s a refuge. For forbidden lovers. Traitors. Secrets. For everyone this world wants to crush.”

He pointed to Koby. To Law. To Perona and Reiju.
To Shamrock and Mihawk. To Corazon and Crocodile.

“No one here deserves to be dragged back in chains.
Not a single one. So today…”

He inhaled deeply.

“Today, Cross Guild protects its own. Against Judge. Against the Government. Against the entire world.”

A shiver ran through the crowd.

Law crossed his arms. “I’m on your side.”

Koby: “Me too!”

Crocodile: “Guess we’re starting a war.”

Reiju: “If Judge steps foot here, I’ll slit his throat.”

Perona: “I’ll help.”

Mihawk unsheathed Yoru. “I follow whatever my daughter decides.”

Shamrock raised his sword. “And I follow Mihawk. And Perona. And Reiju. And… I suppose… Buggy.”

Corazon smiled softly. “I’ll stay. For you. For us. For them.”

Then all eyes turned to…

Doflamingo.

He assessed the scene. His brother. His lover. His rivals.
His enemies. His chaos. He laughed — loud and deep, shoulders shaking.

“FUFUFUFUFU—”

Then, serious:

“Count me in. But if anyone touches Rosi… or Fujitora…I burn your island.”

Fujitora sighed. “That’s progress.”

 

---

 

On the horizon, ships appeared. Germa’s fleet. Government ships. Marine vessels. Distinct silhouettes:

Judge.
An admiral.
A vice-admiral.
A Cipher Pol agent.

Doflamingo licked his teeth. “The dance begins.”

Crocodile cracked his knuckles. “Get the lovers to shelter.”

Perona grabbed Reiju’s hand. Shamrock caught Mihawk’s cape — on purpose. Koby held Buggy’s hand tightly. Law placed a hand on Buggy’s shoulder.

Buggy trembled, terrified, emotional, overwhelmed:

“Okay. We’re all gonna die. BUT WE’RE GONNA DIE TOGETHER!”

The entire Cross Guild screamed:

“YEAHHHHHH!!!”

Doflamingo smiled, genuinely amused. Fujitora lifted his sword. Mihawk stepped forward. Crocodile cracked his neck. The battle for love — and survival — was about to begin.

 

---

Chapter Text

The rumble of war drums echoed across the sea.

A tide of ships darkened the horizon: Marine battleships, World Government vessels, the metallic fleets of Germa 66.
Karai Bari, the island that had become a refuge for broken hearts, took a last breath.

Buggy inhaled deeply.

“Everything’s fine… everything is very fine… everything is too fine.” He was trembling. Koby placed a hand on his loose sleeve.

“Buggy-san, you’re not alone. We’re all here with you.”

“That’s the problem! You’re all here! I’ve got an island full of famous criminals, ex-admirals, psychopaths, ex-princesses and illegitimate lovers! Everyone wants us dead!”

“Technically, that’s true,” Law admitted. “SHUT UP YOU!”

Mihawk placed a hand on his floating shoulder.

“You caused all of this yourself. Take responsibility.”

“NO I WILL NOT!!”

 

---

 

In the large circular hall, a massive table had been set up.
Around it stood the entire Cross Guild… expanded in a very dangerous way.

Mihawk.
Crocodile.
Shamrock.
Perona.
Reiju.
Law.
Koby.
Corazon.
Doflamingo.
Fujitora.

Buggy, in the center, slammed his detached fists on the table.

“We have three problems! THREE PROBLEMS AND NO SOLUTION!”

 

Reiju flinched.

Shamrock placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll protect you.”

She nodded, trembling.

Buggy continued:

“And let’s not forget… him.” He pointed at Doflamingo.

“What now?” the latter sighed.

“YOU’RE A WALKING RISKS FACTORY!”

“Fufufu…”

Fujitora calmly placed a cup of hot tea in front of Doflamingo.

“Do not worsen the situation.”

“I’m doing nothing, Isshou. This clown entertains me.”

“NOW IS THE TIME TO BE SERIOUS, DAMMIT!” Buggy yelled.

 

---

 

Law spoke up:

“We have the terrain advantage. Three mountains, a natural bay, and ancient tunnels. Combining our forces, we can hold.”

“I don’t want to hold anything! I want to LEAVE this island alive!”

Reiju cleared her throat.

“I can handle Germa. I know their strategy, their weaknesses. But… Judge wants to capture me. If he sees me, he—”

Her voice shook.

Perona grabbed her hand. “You will never go back there. I swear I’ll kill him if he comes close.”

Reiju leaned against her. The air turned electric, romantic, almost sacred.

Doflamingo laughed. “These two are going to make me melt.”

Crocodile elbowed him hard. “Shut up.”

Law continued:

“Mihawk, Shamrock, and Crocodile will defend the east coast. That’s where Judge will land.”

Mihawk nodded.

Shamrock, however, turned to Buggy:

“And you? What will you do, Emperor?”

Buggy hesitated. He glanced at Koby and Law.

Then took a deep breath.

“I… I will lead the island’s defense. We’re going to… save everyone.”

Silence.

Crocodile exhaled:

“Well. He finally decided.”

Fujitora smiled.

Doflamingo raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

Perona whispered:

“Dad, look… Buggy is becoming… cool.”

Mihawk grimaced. “That’s unsettling.”

 

---

 

Alarm bells rang.

BOOOOM.

A shell exploded on the northern beach.

“It’s starting!” a subordinate shouted.

“You two! Law! Koby! With me!” Buggy yelled.

“Yes!”

“Always, Buggy-san!”

Crocodile cracked his knuckles. “I’ll crush Germa.”

Shamrock: “I’ll take Judge.”

Mihawk: “Not alone. I’m coming.”

Perona raised her ghost umbrella. “I’ll protect Reiju. I’ll kill anyone who approaches.”

Reiju pulled out poison vials. “And I’ll neutralize everything that breathes.”

Doflamingo stretched his arms. “I’ll play with the World Government.”

Fujitora sighed. “Must I really supervise all these criminals…”

Corazon: “I’ll treat the wounded.”

Buggy puffed his chest. “Good. We have a plan. WE HAVE A PLAN. I AM A GENIUS.”

Then he whispered:

“…we’re going to die.”

 

---

 

The east coast blazed with laser fire and green smoke.
Germa’s soldiers advanced, methodical, mechanical.

In the middle of the beach, Reiju walked forward slowly.

Judge spotted her instantly. He froze. Slowly. As if his heart skipped a beat.

“Reiju.”

His voice rang like a hammer on cold metal.

“You have disappointed me for the last time.”

Reiju straightened, poison aura glowing around her.

“I am not a weapon. I am not your property. I am alive. And I love someone. She saved me—not you.”

Judge gritted his teeth.

Mihawk, Shamrock, and Crocodile stood around her.

Crocodile smirked. “If you want her back, you’ll have to go through us.”

Judge ordered:

“Kill them. Bring my daughter back alive.”

Germa clones marched forward.

Reiju smiled weakly.

“I’m tired of being your puppet.”

She released a wave of fluorescent pink poison that collapsed the soldiers.

Mihawk rotated, cutting down three exoskeletons in a single slash.

Shamrock was already behind Judge.

“You know… I understand why Reiju ran away from you. You reek of parental frustration.”

Judge roared.

 

---

 

On the south coast, the Marines landed.
Fujitora stood before them, unmoving.

Behind him… Doflamingo strutted like it was a parade.

“Fufufu… such well-trained little dogs.”

The vice admiral ordered:

“Donquixote Doflamingo! You are under ar—”

SLASH—

Threads cut his throat.
Not fatally. Just enough to shut him up.

Fujitora tapped the ground.
Gravity crushed the entire front line.

“I warned you,” he sighed.

Doflamingo turned toward Corazon in the distance.

He murmured:

“I’m taking everything back, Rosi. Everything.”

 

---

 

Buggy was running everywhere, giving orders like a furious general.

“Law! Hold the line! Koby! Cover the wounded! HEY YOU! DROP THAT SNAIL—THAT’S MY EQUIPMENT!”

Law struck a CP agent with a clean Shambles. “You’re becoming authoritative. I like it.”

Buggy blushed. “Now is NOT the time!”

Koby, covered in dust, shouted:

“Buggy-san! On your right!!”

An enemy soldier attacked.

Buggy, by reflex, sliced him with his floating-barrier power.

Silence.

Law: “…You’re becoming dangerous.”

Buggy: “I am in TOTAL PANIC.”

 

---

Perona, at the island’s center, was protecting civilians.
Ghosts lunged at enemies.

Reiju, beside her, threw toxic shards.

Mihawk observed them between slashes.

He murmured, surprised:

“My daughter… has become… strong.”

Shamrock smiled.

“She already was. You just weren’t looking.”

Mihawk didn’t answer.
But he smiled faintly.

 

---

 

As the enemy army pulled back slightly, a massive silhouette stepped out of the smoke.

A giant.
A red cape.
A massive axe.

A Pacifista?
An admiral?

Law narrowed his eyes.

“No.”

Koby went pale.

“It’s…”

Buggy screamed: “WHO THE HELL IS THAT NOW?!”

The silhouette spoke, voice deep and imperial.

“I came to reclaim what belongs to the World Government.
And to purge this island of its… degeneracy.”

Reiju’s blood ran cold.

“Him…”

Law stepped back.

Koby covered his mouth.

Mihawk slowly drew his blade.

Shamrock’s jaw clenched.

Crocodile swore.

Even Doflamingo stopped smiling.

Fujitora murmured, troubled:

“We have a problem.”

Because the man advancing…

was neither a marine, nor a CP agent, nor a Vegapunk cyborg.

It was…

A Celestial Knight.

A true Saint. Holder of absolute authority.
With the right to kill anyone who breathes.

 

---

 

He raised a sealed document.

“By order of the World Government:
all individuals on this island are sentenced to death.
Except princess Reiju — property of Germa 66.”

Then he added, amused:

“But most of all… I am here to retrieve the traitor Figarland. The cursed twin. Shamrock.”

Shamrock froze. His heart skipped a beat.

“Oh… crap.”

Mihawk shoved him behind, blade raised.

“You will not take him.”

The Saint smiled.

“Very well. Then I’ll destroy the entire island.”

Buggy yelled:

“SOMEONE STOP THIS MANIAC!!”

 

---

 

Reiju grabbed Perona. Koby stood in front of Buggy. Law drew Kikoku. Crocodile raised a wall of sand. Doflamingo armed his threads. Corazon spread his sound-nullifying feathers. Fujitora lifted his blade.Mihawk raised Yoru.

Everyone.
Together.

Facing the most dangerous man of the World Government.

Buggy inhaled, trembling.

Then, firmly:

“This island is a sanctuary. You won’t touch anyone.”

The Saint burst out laughing.

“A clown giving me orders?”

Buggy smiled.

“No. But an Emperor will.”

The air vibrated.

The final battle was about to begin.

 

---

Chapter Text

Silence followed the Saint’s declaration— A silence nothing human could produce. Even the cannons stopped firing, as if the sea itself held its breath. The Celestial Knight advanced, his red cape trailing behind him like a pool of blood, a massive axe resting on his shoulder. His helmet hid his features, but his eyes glowed icy blue beneath the metal.

Buggy felt his stomach crash somewhere into his nonexistent boots.

“I hate my life…” he whispered.

The Saint lifted his axe and stabbed it into the ground, just strong enough to make the earth tremble.

“I am Saint Figarland,” he announced, his voice clear. “Knight of the World Government. Speaker of the Celestial Dragons. Executor of divine will.”

Shamrock clenched his jaw.

“Great,” Crocodile muttered. “His title is longer than my criminal record.”

Perona, glued to Reiju, trembled faintly.
Koby tried not to throw up.

Law was already muttering under his breath, calculating scenarios.

Fujitora tilted his head toward the giant.

“And what kind of justice do you think you’re executing by wiping out an entire island, Saint-san?”

“This is not justice,” Figarland replied calmly.
“This is maintenance.”

He gestured toward Karai Bari as if pointing at a pile of trash.

“This island is an infection. A refuge for traitors, monsters, and mistakes. I was sent to cleanse it.”

His eyes locked onto Shamrock.

“And retrieve what belongs to the Heavens.”

Shamrock laughed stiffly.

“For what? To become a pawn again in a family that never learned how to love anything but its own reflection?”

Figarland ignored him.

His gaze snapped to Buggy.

“And you… false Emperor. You dared claim a throne not yours.”

Buggy froze.

“I— it was a joke! At first! I didn’t expect it to work!”

Mihawk placed a hand on his floating shoulder.

“Then stop talking and make it work.”

Buggy inhaled.

For a long, long time.

Then he yelled:

“EVERYONE GET READY! WE’RE GONNA FEED THAT GUY HIS OWN CAPE!”

Doflamingo burst into laughter.

“There it is. Your Conqueror’s Haki.”

“SHUT UP AND ATTACK!”

 

---

 

The Saint raised his hand. An invisible pressure crashed onto the island. Koby fell to his knees, gasping. Several pirates fainted instantly. Even some Germa soldiers recoiled, breath stolen from their lungs.

Law’s eyes widened.

“This… this is Conqueror’s Haki at a ridiculous scale—”

“It’s not only that,” Fujitora murmured. “He’s also manipulating gravity. A crude version of it.”

Figarland smiled, mildly amused.

“You’re not the only ones capable of bending the world.”

He pressed harder.

Buggy felt his body split involuntarily, his pieces dragged toward the ground.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS, I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL!!”

Mihawk stabbed Yoru into the ground, black Haki coating the blade. A protective bubble formed around him as the pressure receded.

“Get close,” he ordered.

Shamrock immediately moved behind him. Buggy scrambled in. Law, Koby, Crocodile, Perona, Reiju followed.
Fujitora pulled civilians into his own area of gravity.

Crocodile growled.

“He’s playing in your territory, Isshou.”

“I noticed,” Fujitora sighed.

The Saint ripped his axe from the earth.

“We begin by breaking your symbol.”

His stare fixed on Buggy.

“The Clown Emperor.”

Buggy squealed.

“No, no, no—NO!! Take Mihawk instead! Look how impressive he is—”

Mihawk lifted a brow.

“Really?”

“I was joking… darling…”

Crocodile bit down on his cigar.

“You pick the worst moments, clown.”

The Saint swung his axe.

Buggy split apart by pure survival instinct—torso flying one way, legs another, head bouncing in the air.

The axe cleaved only air.

Law leapt.

“ROOM.”

The air expanded.

“Shambles.”

Buggy and a massive boulder swapped places.
The axe shattered the stone into dust.

Figarland turned to Law.

“The Surgeon of Death.”

“Name’s Trafalgar,” he shot back. “And you don’t own anyone here.”

Koby pushed himself to his feet, trembling—but standing.

“Buggy-san may not have wanted to be an Emperor at first… but he saved people. He protected those you threw away like trash.”

He drew his sword.

“I will follow him to the end.”

Buggy blinked at him, shocked.

“…You know I didn’t even pay you for your last mission, right?”

“It’s not about the money!”

Doflamingo cackled louder.

“I’m going to end up loving you, clown.”

 

---

 

The Saint snapped his fingers. A beam of pure light carved through the ground, vaporizing a chunk of cliff. Perona shrieked. Reiju stepped in front of her, poison radiating like a neon aura.

“Don’t come any closer.”

Figarland glanced at her coldly.

“A failed princess. A defective weapon. Judge should’ve recycled you long ago.”

Reiju clenched her fists.

Shamrock stepped forward.

“You talk a lot for someone who raised his kids like chess pieces.”

Figarland slowly turned his head toward him.

“Shamrock Figarland. The traitor twin. The rotten piece.”

He chuckled.

“We gave you everything. Education, privilege, noble blood. And you chose to crawl in the mud with pirates.”

Shamrock smirked.

“It’s called ‘meeting more interesting people.’”

His golden eyes slid to Buggy.

“And prettier ones.”

Buggy turned bright red.

Mihawk gripped Yoru a little tighter.

Figarland continued, merciless:

“You were born to serve the Heavens. Not to love trash.”

Buggy blinked.

“…Okay. I take back everything I said. I want him dead RIGHT NOW.”

 

---

 

Law grabbed Buggy’s sleeve.

“We can’t overpower him. He has Admiral-level mastery, plus political authority.”

“THANK YOU FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT, REALLY!”

“Listen.”

Law pointed rapidly at the battlefield—the cliffs, ruins, bay, the still-advancing fleet.

“We need him to focus on us. We isolate him. We force him to unleash everything. At that moment… Fujitora reverses gravity. Crocodile traps him. Doflamingo binds him.
And you, Buggy… you’ll be in the center.”

Buggy turned pale.

“WHY AM I IN THE CENTER OF THE SUICIDE PLAN?!”

“Because you’re the Emperor,” Law replied coolly.

Koby added:

“And because you’re the only one stubborn enough not to run away at the critical moment.”

Buggy opened his mouth—
Stopped.

…They were right.

He trembled—but stayed.

For them.

For this island.

For all the broken people who had found refuge here.

He puffed out his chest.

“Fine! Let’s do it! But if I die, I’m haunting all of you!”

Perona raised her hand.

“I can literally make you a ghost if you want.”

“NOT NOW, SWEETHEART!”

Fujitora nodded calmly.

“I’m ready. Make him angry.”

Doflamingo cracked his fingers.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

 

---

 

Buggy stepped forward alone. His heart raced, legs shook—but his head stayed high. He smiled at the Saint.

“You know what’s the worst thing that can happen to a god?”

Figarland’s brows twitched, surprised at the tone.

“When a clown refuses to kneel.”

Buggy raised his floating hand, fingers in a V.

“You can crush me, cut me, throw me in the sea.
But you’re done deciding who gets to exist.”

His Haki—wild, unstable, chaotic—exploded around him.

Several Government soldiers backed away. Some fainted. Even Doflamingo felt a shiver.

“…The idiot really has Conqueror’s Haki…”

Figarland gripped his axe.

“You think you’re special? You are a statistical error.”

He lifted both arms.

The sky darkened.

Spheres of swirling black gravity formed overhead.

Law whispered:

“It’s time.”

Buggy shouted:

“NOW!!”

 

---

 

Fujitora plunged his blade into the ground.

“Gravity… reversed.”

The world flipped.

The black spheres were dragged downward. Figarland blinked—confused that his technique was responding to another force. The gravitational field destabilized.

Crocodile raised both arms.

“DESERT PRISON!”

Columns of sand erupted, spiraling around the Saint and forming a roaring cage that compressed air, light, and gravity itself. Doflamingo sent threads forward, weaving them around the sand prison, tightening it.

“Parasite…”

Figarland roared:

“You are NOTHING!”

Divine energy gathered in his palm, ready to annihilate everything. Buggy leapt toward him.

“I AM BUGGY THE CLOWN!”

Law shouted:

“ROOM!”

Space twisted.

Buggy’s hand—only his hand—phased through the threads, the sand, the warped gravity, and grabbed the Saint’s wrist.
Haki clashed. A second.Two.Forever. Buggy’s entire body screamed with pain.

“I… AM… NOT… AFRAID… ANYMORE!!”

He channeled everything.

Humiliation.
Fear.
Bitterness.
Love.
The fury of being dismissed his whole life as a joke.

His fragmented Haki wrapped around the Saint’s arm like invisible chains.

Figarland staggered.

His divine sphere flickered.

It didn’t strike the island.

It shot upward—then downward—

into the World Government fleet.

A distant flash.

Then multiple explosions.

Half the armada vanished in a blinding bloom of light.

Figarland screamed.

“IMP—”

Mihawk appeared before him.

Yoru, blackened with Haki, carving the air.

“I will not let anyone decide whether my daughter or my Emperor have the right to live.”

The blade struck.

The Saint’s helmet flew off.

His face appeared: beautiful, cold, aristocratic… bleeding.

Shamrock stared, breathless.

“Hello, uncle.”

Figarland’s eyes widened.

He fell to his knees.

Crocodile’s sand prison tightened.

Fujitora pressed the gravity down.

Doflamingo’s threads constricted.

Law raised Kikoku, trembling but determined.

“Gamma Knife.”

The attack didn’t pierce flesh.

It pierced pride.

The Saint coughed blood.

He tried to lift his arm—

Buggy reformed his own hand and grabbed it.

“Game over, old man.”

Figarland smirked weakly, blood dripping.

“You… have signed… your death sentence… all of—”

His words died.

He collapsed.

Silence.

Then a distant cry:

“THE SAINT HAS FALLEN!!”

“RETREAT! FULL RETREAT!”

Government ships fled in chaos.
Germa troops pulled back.
CP agents scrambled for cover.

Karai Bari… still stood.

Buggy dropped onto his backside.

“I’m… gonna throw up…”

 

💚🧡

Chapter Text

The battlefield smelled of smoke, sweat, blood… and pink poison. Reiju knelt beside an unconscious enemy soldier and checked his breathing.

“He won’t die,” she concluded. “Just paralyzed for a few hours.”

Perona sighed dramatically.

“You’re too soft.”

She brushed Reiju’s cheek with her umbrella.

“But that’s part of your charm.”

Reiju smiled faintly.

“I think I’m done working for people who see this as a flaw.”

Perona leaned in, placing a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips.

A promise more than a gesture.

“You work for me now,” she purred. “And I’m very possessive.”

“Good,” Reiju whispered. “So am I.”

 

---

Corazon tended to a wounded pirate, his silence feathers floating around them, muffling the chaos. Doflamingo walked over, still covered in blood not entirely his.

“You really can’t stop healing people,” he said.

Corazon looked up calmly.

“And you can’t stop hurting them.”

They stared at each other.

A long, suspended moment. Their threads and feathers brushed briefly—an old reflex. Doflamingo tried a smirk.

“Did you see that, Rosi? The Clown Emperor taking down a Celestial Knight. We really do live in a crazy world.”

“We’ve lived in it for a long time,” Corazon replied. “The difference is that now… it’s slightly more livable. For some.”

Doflamingo’s fists tightened.

“I don’t know if I’m part of those ‘some.’”

Corazon stood, exhausted.

“You can be. If you stop behaving like a monster.”

Doflamingo laughed low.

“That’s your problem. You still think I can be saved.”

“I think you can choose.”

They both glanced toward Buggy, yelling at pirates for mishandling medical supplies. Corazon pointed with a faint smile.

“And we apparently have an Emperor stupid enough to give us a chance.”

“Fufufu…”

Doflamingo didn’t argue.

 

---

 

On the smoky east coast, Judge staggered, wounded, seething. His fleet was in shambles. His soldiers paralyzed or poisoned. He raised his arm to bark one last order— A blade met his throat. Crocodile stood to his left. Mihawk to his right. And in front of him… Reiju. No mask. No armor. Just her.

“Reiju,” he growled. “You think this charade erases your blood? You are a Vinsmoke. You owe me everything.”

“I owe you nothing,” she replied softly.
“You gave me life. Then you stole it.”

Perona twirled her umbrella behind her, ghosts floating around like bodyguards.

“You want us to kill him?” she asked cheerfully.

Reiju hesitated.

Then shook her head.

“No.”

Judge barked a hollow laugh.

“You’re weak.”

Reiju smiled gently.

“No.
I’m free.”

She stepped aside.

“Go. Return to your metal empire and your broken children.
But understand one thing:
You will never own me again.”

Judge opened his mouth.

Mihawk pressed Yoru a little closer.

“One more word, and I alter fate.”

Judge recoiled, hatred burning in his eyes.
He climbed aboard a half-functional ship and fled.

Reiju looked away, both relieved and aching.

Perona took her hand.

“You killed him in another way,” she whispered.
“He’ll never touch your mind again.”

Reiju closed her eyes.

“So this is what it feels like… to survive.”

 

---

In the ruins, Fujitora tapped the ground gently, sensing. Koby approached.

“Fujitora-san… what happens now?”

“A political disaster,” the admiral sighed.

He tilted his face upward.

“A Celestial Knight dead. Half a Government fleet destroyed. An island of criminals becoming a symbol of resistance. The World Government will not ignore this.”

Koby swallowed hard.

“You… you won’t hand them over, right?”

Fujitora smiled faintly.

“I may be blind, Koby-kun, but I am not stupid. I know what I just witnessed.”

He gestured around him.

“I saw an Emperor tremble… but stay. A princess choose freedom. A pirate rewrite fate with a scalpel. A disgraced noble refuse the sky. An island where the world’s refuse holds each other upright.”

He placed a heavy hand on Koby’s shoulder.

“I will report that a violent storm struck the fleet.
That the Saint died by mishandling his own power.
The details… unclear.”

Koby’s eyes widened.

“You’re… you’re going to lie?”

“I will choose what I see.
As you must.”

Koby glanced at Buggy screaming at pirates fighting over who got to paint the biggest flag with his face on it.

He smiled despite himself.

“I think I’ve already chosen.”

 

---

On a cliff overlooking the sea, Shamrock watched the enemy retreat. Mihawk approached.

“You could’ve left,” he said. “Pretended to be captured.”

Shamrock scoffed.

“To go back to that? No thanks.”

He turned to him, more serious.

“I’d rather be a free traitor than an obedient slave.”

His eyes drifted to Buggy.

“I found something more valuable here anyway.”

Mihawk narrowed his gaze.

“Buggy isn’t an object.”

“I wasn’t only talking about him,” Shamrock smirked. “But thanks for confirming you’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

“You’re adorably possessive.”

Before Mihawk could reply, Buggy burst in, hair wild, face frantic and glowing with joy.

“We’re alive! WE’RE ALIVE!!”

He launched himself at them like a flying octopus, his arms detaching and wrapping around both. Crocodile arrived just in time to get hit in the face by a rogue Buggy arm.

“Dammit, clown—”

Buggy clung to them, shaking.

“You’re alive. All of you. I… I really thought—”

His voice cracked.

Mihawk steadied him.

Shamrock cupped his cheek.

“Emperor,” he said softly. “You kept your word.”

Crocodile placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“You protected your territory. Your people.
That’s what an Emperor does.”

Buggy blinked.

“I… I didn’t want that title originally.”

“No one wants that weight,” Crocodile replied.
“But you carried it.”

Mihawk added:

“And you didn’t do poorly.”

Buggy sniffed.

“…You’re all in love with me, aren’t you?”

Shamrock: “Completely.”

Crocodile: “Don’t get cocky.”

Buggy: “But I deserve it!”

Mihawk didn’t deny it.

 

---

The following days were a blend of celebration and quiet nightmares. Houses rebuilt. The dead mourned. The wounded treated. A rumor spread: A Celestial Knight had died. The Government fleet was destroyed. And at the center of it all stood a name— Ridiculous and terrifying:

Buggy the Emperor. Bounties rose. Maps shifted. The Government panicked. But Karai Bari remained. Reiju and Perona ran a chaotic clinic-refuge together. Doflamingo and Corazon stayed near—never close, never far. Fujitora vanished after “adjusting” his report. Law and Koby bonded through caffeine and trauma.

And Buggy…
Buggy was everywhere. Shouting. Crying. Fixing things.
Breaking others. Being an Emperor without meaning to be one.

 

---

 

One evening, Buggy climbed the cliff alone. Or so he thought.

“You look serious,” Crocodile said behind him.

Buggy shrieked.

“CAN YOU JUST WALK LOUDLY FOR ONCE?!”

Mihawk appeared silently. Shamrock sat down and tugged Buggy by the cape until he sat too.

“I just wanted…” Buggy murmured, “to look at the horizon without anyone asking me to sign something, marry people, pick a flag design, or move crates.”

He stared at the sea.

“You think it’ll stop? The attacks? The threats? The Saints?”

Mihawk: “No.”

Shamrock: “They’ll come again. Because your existence insults them.”

Buggy groaned.

“Great. Thanks for the hope.”

Crocodile lit a cigarette.

“But they can’t pretend you don’t exist anymore.
This island is a symbol now.”

“A symbol of what?” Buggy asked.

Crocodile hesitated.

Then smirked.

“Of everyone the world tried to throw away…
who decided to float anyway.”

Buggy looked down at the island. Reiju and Perona’s clinic.
Corazon tending the wounded. Doflamingo pretending not to help. Koby and Law’s sarcasm sessions. Civilians rebuilding their homes. Former Germa soldiers trying to smile again. Children drawing clown flags with pride.

Buggy inhaled deeply.

“Then… here’s my promise.”

The three looked at him.

Buggy clenched his fists.

“As long as I’m alive, this island stands. We’ll make a family out of every piece of trash in the world if we have to. A circus. An army. A refuge. But no one—”

His Haki flickered.

“NO ONE decides for them ever again.”

Shamrock smiled.

“That’s my Emperor.”

Mihawk nodded.

“I’ll follow you. Even into madness.”

Crocodile flicked his cigarette.

“You can’t back down now.”

Buggy gulped.

“…I already regret this speech.”

But he smiled.

Really smiled.

For the first time in a long while.

The island breathed beneath them.

And somewhere far above, the world’s kings and tyrants screamed in rage—because a clown, a crocodile, a swordsman, a disgraced noble, a princess, a ghost girl, a feather angel, a surgeon, a hero, and a village of outcasts dared to live without permission.

Buggy closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, “we fix the cannons.”

Shamrock kissed his temple.
Crocodile grumbled about expenses.
Mihawk simply said:

“Tomorrow.”

Night fell over the island that refused to die.

And far away, the war drums echoed—
but now they kept time with Buggy’s laughter.

 

❤️🩷