Chapter Text
She wasn’t supposed to be here...
Just moments ago, she had been alone on her small boat, steering confidently toward a horizon her brother once sailed at seventeen. She had always dreamed of becoming King of the Pirates, of being the freest person on the sea after meeting Shanks. To sail wherever she pleased, to chase the One Piece, to live for the thrill of adventure alongside her crew. It felt like nothing could stop her. Her journey had only just begun.
Then the vibrations came.
A low hum filled the air, making everything around her tremble. The sky split with a sharp crack, lightning tearing through the clouds. For a second, there was nothing.
Before she could even catch her breath, the ocean vanished beneath her, the boat splintering apart as darkness rushed in and swallowed everything whole.
The air above Odysseus’s ship was dead, no breeze, just a heavy, mocking silence. The crew was starving; you could see it in their hollowed-out faces and the way their eyes had gone dull. It had been days since their last real meal, and the constant smell of salt spray without a hint of food was starting to feel like a cruel joke.
Odysseus stood next to Eurylochus, looking exhausted but still holding it together. He kept his voice low and steady as he started laying out a plan to find something to eat.
The silence was broken by a sharp crack.
The crack widened, shaking with a deep, resonant hum, until the very heavens seemed to bleed light. Below, the sea became unstable, waves crashing and colliding against one another.
Odysseus steadied himself on deck, gripping the railing as the ship pitched beneath him. “Stand strong,” he called against the wind
His eyes narrowed at the blinding light above. “What’s happening?” he demanded.
The crew gathered at the front of the ship, some shielding their eyes, others staring in shock, fear etched on their faces. They had witnessed slaughter, fire, and the fall of a city, but never this. They had never seen the sky itself break open.
Then something—no, someone—was falling, slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh, the wind whistling past as they descended. A figure tumbled headfirst, spinning wildly, shouting something that sounded suspiciously like, “AHHHH I REALLY MESSED THIS ONE UP!”
Odysseus barely had time to shout an order before the body slammed straight through the mainsail, ripping canvas in a booming crash. The impact shook the deck; splinters flew; the crew scattered. When the confusion finally stilled, the captain found himself staring at a smoking hole in his ship and a crater where one of his supply crates used to be.
Odysseus stepped forward slowly, examining the stranger half-buried in debris. It was a...young girl?
She lay half-buried in broken planks, unmoving. Then she stirred. She pushed herself up and looked around with bright, fearless eyes. She had a wild smile, a scar under one eye, and strange clothes clinging to her like nothing he had ever seen.
No armor, no recognizable weapons. Only a straw hat hanging around her neck, somehow undamaged.
She blinked up at the shocked soldiers and grinned. “Oh, hey! Do you guys have any meat?”
Eurylochus blinked. “She's…asking for lunch?”
Polites whispered; his voice came out thin. “She fell from the sky… that’s no mortal.”
Odysseus stepped forward, slow and measured, his hand already on his sword. “Stranger,” he said, “name yourself. And what god sent you to destroy my ship?”
The girl tilted her head, puzzled by the question, “God? Nahh, I’m no god!” She rose to her feet far too easily for someone who’d just fallen from the sky, brushing dust and splinters from her clothes.
“I’m a pirate,” she said cheerfully.
A huge headache begins to hammer at his temples, and Odysseus frowns as she downright ignores his inquiry. He had suffered so much from the Trojan War. Ten years of hardships. And now this.
“A pirate,” he repeated. “Then whose waters do you sail?”
“I sail wherever I can,” she said, as if it were obvious.
Odysseus' eyes, sharp and cautious, locked onto hers as she leaned against the railing of his ship, her big smile still plastered on her face, completely unconcerned by the havoc she had brought.
She scanned the surroundings with a squint. “Soooooooo, is this your ship?”
“…It is,” Odysseus said slowly, his hand tightening on the sword. “And you are trespassing.” His voice carried a low edge.
She laughed, bright and reckless. “Aw, c’mon! I fell outta the sky, you can’t really call that trespassing.”
Polites fidgeted slightly, yet a spark of kindness lit his eyes. “Odysseus, maybe we should—”
“—throw her back?” Eurylochus muttered darkly.
The girl gasped, placing a hand over her chest with exaggerated flair. “What?! Rude! I just landed here! Hard to ask permission,” She huffed, crossing her arms, her lower lip jutting out.
Her voice was loud, the kind that didn't seem to understand restraint. “What kinda welcome is that?”
“By Zeus,” murmured Eurylochus, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She's talking like it's all normal!”
Polites shifted, feeling pity for the poor, strange girl. “Captain—”
Odysseus hushed him with a look. His sword remained raised. The salty wind tugged at his cloak, and the remains of the torn mainsail fluttered above him. He exhaled through his nose, the corners of his mouth twitching in irritation. “Landed,” he repeated flatly. “You call falling from the heavens and tearing my sail...landing?”
“Eh,” she shrugged, dusting her hands. “Details.”
Eurylochus rubbed a hand down his face. “She’s mad...”
Murmurs rippled through the crew.
“Mad?” She echoed, eyes lighting up. “Oh, no, I’m perfectly sane! Just a little hungry. And maybe lost.”
Polites whispered to Perimedes, “She smiles like a siren, but talks like a fool.”
Odysseus did not smile. He lowered his sword only a fraction, enough to show self-control, not trust. “A fool who fell from Olympus, perhaps. The gods must be laughing.”
She blinked, tilting her head. “O-lym-pus…” She exaggerated the word awkwardly. “Is that a restaurant? ’Cause if they’ve got food, point me there.”
Her stomach growled in pain. She craned her neck in an unsettling manner, stretching farther than any human should, looking across the sea as if searching for the place.
A strangled sound came from Eurylochus.
“Captain, this cannot be real. Has hunger finally driven us mad? We’re hallucinating from lack of food!” He gestured wildly at the bizarre scene.
“Oh, it’s real,” she chirped. “See?” She pulled her cheek out like rubber and stretched it several inches before letting it snap back.
“I ate this fruit once, the Gomu Gomu no Mi; it was weird-looking and tasted nasty. Then boom! Stretchy! I’m a rubber man!!” She extended her arm again, tapping the cracked mast several feet away, as if to prove her point.
The men stumbled back, raising their voices in fear, tripping over crates and one another. The air filled with frightened whispers. The expression on Odysseus's face mixed fear and shock as he raised his sword, commanding her not to move. He pressed the tip to her neck. "You ate a fruit. And now your limbs defy nature.”
“Yup, man, I could eat an entire sea king. You guys got any?” she said, unconcerned about the sword.
“Sea… king?” Polites repeated faintly.
Odysseus lifted a hand, silencing the crew. “Enough.” He studied her. “Well, whatever you are, you will answer all my questions. Stranger,” he said, his tone now firm but curious, “what name do you carry?”
She beamed, throwing up a peace sign; that seemed to explain everything. “Name’s (Y/N)! And one day I will be the King of the Pirates! And have my own crew as Captain!”
Polites blinked. “King of the—what?”
“Pirates,” she repeated, scratching the back of her head. “You know, people who sail around looking for treasure, adventure, that kinda thing!”
“King of the Pirates,” Odysseus repeated slowly. “Captain of what?”
She opened her mouth to explain, then paused, looking around. “Wait… this isn’t the East Blue, is it? And what happened to my BOAT? Makino prepared that just for me!”
“What?” Eurylochus asked, deadpan. “Captain, she hit her head. She might be a bit crazy. No- she is crazy, we should get rid of her.”
Odysseus didn’t answer immediately. “We will keep her for now.”
He simply studied her, this strange, sun-kissed girl who smiled so brightly. Her manner was too easy, but something else lurked beneath. After sheathing his sword, everyone, even Polites, fell into an awkward silence. Most of the men moved away from the rubber girl, still afraid, gripping their weapons just in case.
“You guys look hungry,” she said suddenly, already moving on to the next topic. “When’s lunch?”
A collective groan rippled across the deck. There is no need to remind them of their hunger continually.
“Nooo, I’m serious!” She bounced on her heels, hands on her hips. “I can cook! —kinda! As long as you’ve got meat!” Her stomach growled loudly enough to echo across the eleven ships.
There is no meat to spare,” he said curtly. “You’ve stumbled upon a warship that hasn’t had a proper meal in days.”
“Oh…” She frowned for a moment, then brightened again. “That’s fine! I’ll find some!” Before anyone could stop her, she strode confidently toward the ship’s railing and peered down into the endless blue.
“Hey, wait!” Odysseus barked. “What do you think you’re doing—”
She planted her feet on the deck, eyes gleaming with mischief, and grinned impossibly wide.
She planted her feet on the deck, eyes sparkling with mischief, and grinned widely. “Fishing!” she declared. Before anyone could stop her, her arms shot out over the railing until her hands plunged into the foaming blue below. She felt her strength waning from the sea's relentless grip, but she focused, driven by her hunger. The ship rocked with a low creak as waves slapped against the hull. Her fingers brushed something slick. “Gotcha!” she whooped and immediately regretted it.
The fish thrashed, its slippery body slipping through her grasp like wet soap. Water splashed everywhere as she tightened her grip, her teeth clenched. “Whoa-whoa-whoa-WHOA!” she yelled, the force nearly yanking her overboard.
“CAN SOMEONE GRAB MY LEG?! IF I FALL—I CAN’T SWIM! LIKE, AT ALL!” Polites exchanged a helpless glance with Odysseus before lunging forward, grabbing one of her ankles. Odysseus groaned but reached for the other. Together, they strained against her rubbery limbs, their sandals slipping on the wet deck.
Both arms snapped back, sending the girl sprawling onto the deck, clutching a massive fish, bigger than her torso, still flopping wildly. “Dinner’s ready!” she crowed triumphantly, holding it high.
The fish slammed down with a thud, seawater splashing everywhere, scales glimmering like molten silver in the sunlight. The crew stared at her, half impressed and half concerned for her sanity. Polites gawked.
Polites gawked. “How—how did you—”
“Just grabbed ’em!” she said proudly.
“You… caught those with your bare hands?” Odysseus asked slowly, as if trying to make sense of the impossible.
“Duh! You just watched me do it!” she said, puffing her chest out with pride. Her voice carried the kind of carefree confidence that made the crew both admire and fear her a little. “Now—who’s got a fire? I’m starving!”
Odysseus pressed a weary hand to his forehead, staring at the massive fish flopping between them. “What,” he muttered, “have we gotten ourselves into?”