Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Have you ever woken up somewhere and not known where you were? Maybe it was a hotel, or a friend’s house, or even a stranger’s house after a night of partying; you snap awake in the middle of the night to see a dark, unfamiliar room. Your brain’s first response to the situation is to panic, the slick drop in your stomach further waking you up but not helping the situation. It’s only after a moment–after you breathe and let yourself truly wake up–that you remember where you are, why you are there, and finally calm down enough to attempt to sleep once more.

I’ve only ever had that experience a couple times in my life. At age 21, I have so rarely slept in places that weren’t my own bed that it simply wasn’t a problem for me. Honestly, even when I did stay overnight outside of my own room, my insomnia made it far more likely that I would simply stay up all night rather than even attempt to rest deeply enough for me to not know where I was.

All of this is to say that when I opened my eyes and saw nothing but an endless ocean around me–a large piece of wood paneling the only thing keeping me out of the water–my inexperience left me woefully unprepared. I would say out of my depth, but the pun felt overwhelmingly cruel to my panic-stricken brain at the moment.

I kicked out instinctually, only to come to the realization that my legs were fully submerged in the ocean. The movement furiously rocked the piece of wood I was on–submerging it and me slightly before bobbing back to the surface. The familiar sensation of a panic attack starts to take hold of me at that moment. I felt dizzy. Nauseous. The veil of sleep hadn’t even been fully lifted from my brain, and here I was being plunged into a disparate maelstrom of disorientation.

 I was grateful to have woken up laying on my stomach instead of my back, because as I dry heaved from the panic I could at least take comfort in the fact that if I did end up throwing up; at least it would be into the ocean and not on myself.

Through the haze of sleep, panic, and bone deep fatigue I tried to think of how I could have possibly gotten here.

Was I at the lake? That sounded right, but I’m definitely not now. I can taste the salt in the air, and even if this was Lake Superior, the closest one to me that could possibly look this large, that’s still a freshwater lake. I think I was on a boat with someone, and then we went for a swim…I don’t know why, I hate swimming; I’ve always been awful at it. Who I was with–why I was there–I couldn’t recall any of it. The harder I tried to remember the more panic I started to feel. My head began to feel fuzzier and heavier as I desperately tried to recall anything about what I had been doing before waking up here.

I felt myself start to faint–either from the continued exhaustion or the panic attack, I couldn’t tell.

Just before succumbing to the sweet embrace of sleep once again I remembered something–a half formed memory of a memory.

A painful voice.

And, the blinding, burning sensation of Gold.

I don’t know how long I was unconscious for. It was still blindingly bright out, though I was given some reprieve because of the Regency style, Lolita bonnet casting my face into shadow. 

Having calmed down enough to try and take another peek at my situation–though exhaustion made it difficult to even lift my head off the wood–I took in what I could easily make out, even with my impaired senses. From what I could gather, my situation was not great.

First off, the wood paneling that I was on was not even large enough to fully fit my body–the wood sharply splintering off at my hips. Unfortunately, this left my legs to be fully submerged in the water. I would probably be far more terrified of the idea of my legs floating vulnerably in the open ocean like this, if I wasn’t too tired to truly feel anything in this moment.

Secondly, there wasn’t a single other thing in my vicinity. No people. No boats. No signs of a shipwreck. Not even another piece of wood to try and help get me further out of the water.

Just me, the blue sky, and the matching blue sea.

I tried not to let that thought spiral me into a panic again, but my next observation didn’t help.

Lastly, while the expertly-tailored gothic dress I was wearing looked to be in perfect shape, a small part of my overly tired brain spiked with a feeling of wrongness at the idea–why was I wearing this on a boat–I couldn’t locate my trusty coffin shaped purse. This meant that I was now stranded without my phone, my wallet, my meds, or any of my sentimental nicknacks I carry with me constantly. My chances at calling for help, and also my life saving medication, were now likely at the bottom of the ocean.

I would have felt some kind of pride at my own sewing skills clearly being so far superior to the quality of the cheap, mall-purchased bag that I had let hold my literal lifeline, if I weren’t so aware of the implications to my own survival being without them meant.

While the thought of my rather inappropriate outfit for swimming still irked the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but be grateful that it meant most of my skin was shielded from the sun; the high collar, long sleeves, bonnet, and gloves meant that while I might have to suffer some kind of heat rash (Unfortunate), my far too pale to tan skin would probably be spared from the worst sunburn imaginable (Very Fortunate).

I turn my head slightly more to further shield myself from the sun, but it causes some white fringe from my bonnet–do I have any bonnets with fringe in the front–to fall into my face, tickling and taunting my poor overexposed nerves. Bringing my hand up to lazily brush it away, I am stopped short by the realization that my hand is not empty. There, now directly in front of my face, wrapped in my red velvet covered left hand, was a shiny Golden apple.

“Huh…” I murmur to myself, my voice cracking a bit around the word. I hadn’t realized how extremely dry my throat was until I tried to speak. I swallowed a couple times to try and ease the feeling, but soon realized that it wasn’t going to help at all. Just how long had I been out here?

Inspecting the suspicious apple some more, I noticed that not only was the color alarming–no apple should be metallic gold in color as far as I know–but there was also a strange pattern to the skin. Ridges and valleys swirled in various spirals across the flesh, giving the fruit a small amount of dimension. Gently squeezing it, I thought that maybe the lumps would mean it had gone soft, but the fruit held firm just as any ripe apple should.

I was hungry. My throat was so very dry. But, I chose not to immediately eat the mystery apple. I wasn’t quite desperate enough to be that stupid, yet.

I gently tucked my hand, still clutching the apple, underneath my chin. While unsettling, it was also the only edible thing for possibly miles; it wouldn’t be good to lose it to the ocean.

Overwhelmed and still so unbelievably tired, I closed my eyes and waited until sleep took me again.

The next time I wake up, I am greeted by the sight of a sky set aflame with stars. Thousands of twinkling lights amidst voluminous bursts of colorful galaxies painted the unbroken expanse of sky. The ocean, while inky black in the dark, is just still enough to bounce beams of moonlight across the surface.

In my whole life I don’t think I have ever seen something so beautiful. I have seen pictures of course. The internet is full of both real and fake pictures of beautiful night skies, but that couldn’t remotely hold a candle to what I was witnessing now.

I gazed in wonder around me, mindful not to move too much lest I fall off my little piece of safety, and for the first time in my life I felt like I could understand how people used to look up at the sky and believe that gods were looking back.

If only it could more thoroughly distract me from the blistering pain in my throat. It was painfully obvious that I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in probably a day at least. My throat was not only dry from the lack of liquids, but also it felt almost clogged–crusted over–with salt. I wondered if maybe at some point I had tried to drink salt water. A brief flash of being under inky black waves comes to mind, but it is gone before I can even fully grasp it.

I cough to try and clear my throat at all, but the burning it causes brings tears to my eyes.

I shouldn’t cry. I don’t have the water to lose to tears.

I pull the unnaturally Golden apple to my face.

Apples are juicy.

I try to swallow and can hear the clicks from my throat as it dryly–painfully–rubs against itself.

I look at the sky above me and the sea around me, so beautifully alive with color and magical in a way I didn’t know could exist; but so utterly, devastatingly, terrifyingly alone.

I take a bite of the apple.

The regret from my decision is immediate and violent. I gag at the rancid taste, while resolutely keeping my lips clamped shut to prevent myself from throwing it up. Despite the taste there is juice and I force myself to chew and swallow it. This was a terrible decision, but by god I will at least have the benefit of less pain in my throat.

I breathe heavily through the nausea of that first bite as I stare directly at the horrible trap that was this apple, the traitor.

Once you break an apple’s skin you don’t have very long before the rest goes bad. It probably will be far worse in the morning–it might already be dangerous to eat as it is.

I can feel tears prick my eyes again as I force myself to take another bite.

It’s slow going, with no way to tell time–and no experience with gauging time via the movement of the moon–I can’t rightfully say how long it took me to choke down the rest of the apple. I kept expecting to hit the core, or seeds at least, but it never came. I ate it until it was gone. My throat was no longer on fire at least, but the various waves of nausea and fatigue made that a rather shallow victory.

I was panting furiously, my forehead pressed against the wood beneath me–bonnet pushed slightly out of alignment from the act. I gripped the edge of the paneling above my head with both hands weakly, my limbs feeling too weak to execute the bruising hold I desperately wished for.

Eventually the nausea passed. I didn’t move from my position. The fatigue continued undaunted. I had been tired before, whatever I had gone through to get into this situation must have been taxing; but now it was dangerous. This new bone deep weakness posed the threat of preventing me from saving myself should I fall off my little piece of driftwood turned life raft.

I trembled in fear. Fear of the unknown depths below me. Fear of dying alone on the ocean. Fear of never knowing how I even got here to begin with. Fear that I may have just poisoned myself. Fear that poisoning myself may have been the correct choice.

I could no longer enjoy the beauty of the stars around me.

I slipped back into unconsciousness.

I don’t remember much about the next couple days. Sometimes I would wake up and it was daytime, sometimes it would be nighttime. At all times I was too exhausted to move.

I’m left to wonder if this is how I die.

The temporary reprieve of the juice from the worst apple in the history of the world wore off all too fast and now, days later, I felt a bit ashamed that I caved and ate it so fast.

I briefly wondered how I hadn’t already died because of my Diabetes. It had been days since I took insulin, so maybe that fended off any plummeting blood sugars from not having eaten.For some reason, I couldn't quite think I would ever be that lucky. Maybe I hadn’t poisoned myself and this was actually just my body shutting down from that?

One last fuck you from my crumbling desecrated temple of a body.

Eventually, I awoke and immediately could tell something was different. I wasn’t sure what at first, the midday sun still beat down heavily from above, and my body was still too weak to even properly lift my head off the wood. I desperately tried to focus my too hazy mind into what could possibly have changed.

I felt it again–no not felt–heard. Over the barely present whisper of wind and the gentle lap of the miniscule waves it created, a rhythmic splash.

I gathered all the strength I could to lift my head and look behind me in the direction of the noise. If I had been capable of crying at that moment I probably would have, because there, some several hundred feet away, was the shape of two people and a small row boat.

I desperately tried to call out for help, but my throat was too dry and the noise cracked and fizzled before it could truly hit the air. I panicked and tried again, but had no more success on the second or third attempt. I tried to lift my arm to wave. Surely, they could see me, right? It was far, but if I could see them they should be able to see me! My arm dropped back down onto the wood and I was sent bobbing, the movement once again too much for my little buoy.

The figures had stopped rowing, and with some relief I could see them waving their arms at me. I thought I could even hear them call out in greeting, or worry, it was hard to hear with water splashing around me from my weak movements.

Instead of attempting to wave again, the movement having proven to take too much energy and was too likely to tip me into the water, I simply stretched my arm out towards them; hoping they could see and understand it as the plea for help that it was.

I’m not entirely certain how to explain what happened next. Mainly, because I’m not entirely certain what happened myself.

One second I was pathetically reaching out for help, and then suddenly I was literally flying through the air. It all happened so quickly, that I barely had any time to actually comprehend the feeling of a hand wrapping around my outstretched wrist and something else–it felt too warm and too soft to be a rope but what else it could have been was lost to me–wrap multiple times around my waist and hips before I was fucking jettisoned through the aether.

I’m sure I would have screamed had I the ability to make any noise at all, however since I did not, I simply had to be satisfied with feeling the awful rush of all of the air leaving my lungs at once. Thankfully my trip only lasted for a few seconds. Just as suddenly as it started, it came to a sharp halt as my back collided with what was clearly another body.

My head was still reeling from my sudden journey, but surprisingly I didn’t feel quite as bone-deep weary as I had before. Maybe some adrenaline managed to get itself pumping from my impromptu flight? While I was out in the water I would have said that sitting up was impossible for me–if there had been any room for it anyways–but now here in this little rowboat I–well, I still felt bad. Genuinely, truly awful. I still haven’t had anything to eat or drink in days so I don’t think that was gonna just go away, but I did feel better than before.

I became all too aware of the fact that I was definitely sitting in a stranger’s lap–my savior or not the contact with a stranger was uncomfortable–and started panicking trying to figure out what was going on. The body behind me started shaking along with the sound of a bright, joyful laugh. 

“Oh no! Miss? Miss, are you okay? Luffy! That was too much! What if you hurt her?” The cry came from the other person, the voice a soft crisp accent only slightly dampened by the absolute panic in his tone. I probably should have been paying more attention to him but I couldn’t even bring myself to look at his face while I was freaking the fuck out about being held by a stranger.

“Sorry! Sorry!” the boy holding me chuckled, not even remotely sounding sorry. The arms that had been holding me tight started shifting to move me around. Wait…Arms? Where did that rope go? Either way, I felt my heart ease a bit as I was positioned to be sitting on the floor of the little boat.

“Miss? Are you okay?” the anxious boy asked again, as I settled in between the two of them. I finally made eye contact with him and was greeted by a horribly sunburned little angel. He was young, though definitely in his older teens, with soft pink hair, clear blue eyes, and full lips; honestly, I would have called him unfairly pretty if not for the horrifically painful looking sunburn he sported across his face and arms. From the amount of peeling that I could see and bright freshly burned skin underneath, it was pretty clear that this poor kid had been ruthlessly exposed to the sun without any kind of protection for way too long. He fiddled with his oversized round glasses, a clear sign of nerves. He looked strangely familiar to my addled brain.

“Wa–” I attempted to ask but was quickly cut off by a burning cough as the dryness in my throat foiled my attempts again. I weakly clutched a hand around it in a desperate move to either stop the cough or at least ease the pain of it.

“Oh! Of course! Hang on.” he nervously placated me before turning around and rummaging through some crates behind him. In a series of too quick, jerky movements he filled a small wooden cup from a barrel and gently passed it to me, “Here, go slowly.”

As I brought the cup of water up to my mouth to start sipping, desperately fighting the urge to just chug it in one go, I couldn’t help but praise him a little in my head. An angel. A gift from some heaven upon the earth. Beautiful, perfect miracle boy. I would gladly lay my life down on a battlefield in his honor. I distantly realized I probably shouldn’t immediately feel so attached to a complete stranger, but after days of being alone in the open water waiting for my own slow painful death, the delight of rescue was a high that I would ride gladly. I was also maybe delirious, but that was less important.

“Thanks.” I manage to softly say after I finish the cup of water.

“Of course! Here, let me get you another.” he says again, slightly less nervous than he was before as he takes the cup back from me gently to refill it.

“Hey! How’d you manage to get all the way out here like that?” the other boy piped up excitedly. His laughter had almost completely subsided, though the occasional whistle of a giggle through his teeth broke through. Finally turning my attention to the other boy who I assumed pulled me out of the water somehow, intending to thank him as well when–Oh.

Oh. Thats–

That’s simply Monkey D. Luffy.

Sitting next to me in this tiny rowboat was possibly the best Luffy cosplayer I had ever seen in my life. He looked so natural in a way not even the Netflix show managed to do. Honestly, he didn’t look too dissimilar from the actor, maybe a little younger–less on the handsome side more on the cute side; but his styling made the biggest difference. The Netflix show did an amazing job but they never really got past the point of all of the character kind just looking like really nice cosplayers, part of that being the combination of subpar wigs and absolutely no weathering on any of the clothes; the other part being that it was clearly a stylistic choice to make it feel campy and silly, This boy did not have that problem. His vest and shorts were well worn, his hair was slightly curled but mostly just messy, the scar on his cheek was noticeable but blended so well that it honestly could have been real, and most notably his signature straw hat was beautifully weathered. Truthfully, being in my last year as a costuming major in college, it made me truly appreciate the kind of detail that he put into it. You could have told me that hat had indeed been passed down through multiple generations, seen countless adventures, and weather conditions, but been meticulously maintained and loved; and I would have believed you. This clearly wasn’t its first day out in the sun, as most versions people make are.

I looked back to the other boy as he handed the water cup back to me, only now with the context of both boys together I realized that this boy was definitely cosplaying Koby.

Was I just saved by a couple of extremely dedicated One Piece roleplayers? I looked back and forth between the two boys in wonder. This was going to make the best and most unbelievable story to tell on the internet. People on Tumblr were going to call me a liar and I couldn’t wait for the amount of ‘and then everyone clapped’ comments I was gonna get.

I wonder if they would email me pictures since I’m pretty sure I’m never going to see my old phone again.

God, I was already obsessed with One Piece, but now I’m gonna be downright insufferable about it now. Everyone I ever become friends with again is gonna have to know that my life was saved by One Piece. This is the moment that defines me as a person for the rest of my life, I’m sure of it.

“Miss? Are you okay?” Koby asks gently but still nervously. I realize then that I simply haven’t answered any of their actual questions and have just been staring at them for an uncomfortable  few minutes now.

“Yeah–” I croak, cough, take another sip of water, and then try again, “Yes–well, I mean no. I’ve been out here for days, and I really thought I was gonna die–but I am doing markedly better than I was before?” I realized I was rambling, and it absolutely killed my overly sore throat, but I was just so relieved to have been found; I don’t think I could have stopped myself.

“Ah! You were out there for days?” Koby gasps dramatically.

“Wow! You must be starving!” Luffy yells at the same time.

I flinch a little at the volume, days I had spent in almost complete silence making me unprepared for the noise. He was right. I was hungry. But, the idea of inconveniencing them by asking for food felt rude and unbearable. Better, to sit in discomfort.

“I’m–um…fine. I guess.” I mutter, taking another long sip of my water.

Luffy pouts at me, clearly not liking the idea of not eating for multiple days. Koby, meanwhile, has already started to shift through the crate behind himself looking for something to give me.

“Um, I’m not sure what we have that would help. I mean–we have some meat, but it’s all salted to keep it preserved, and I don’t think that will be good for you right now.” he rambles nervously, “Oh! Here! This should be easy to start with.” Koby pulls out a cluster of purple grapes and holds it out to me.

“Grapes! That’s good! You eat those and I’ll eat the meat.” Luffy beams at me before holding his hand out at Koby expectantly.

“Luffy, you just ate. We need to ration until we get to Shells Town.” Koby admonishes him.

As the two boys argue back and forth, I can’t help but wonder if they are going to stay in character the whole time we are on the boat. Like, bravo on the dedication, but I did almost die. I keep quiet not wanting to seem ungrateful.

Koby is still holding the grapes out to me even while arguing, so I figure I should probably take them before he thinks I am ungrateful for this beautiful gift of sustenance. Before I touch them, however, I do realize that my hands must have fallen in the water at some point as my velvet gloves were now soaked. Wincing at the unpleasant texture and the thought of the salt water touching the grapes, I peel them off before wiping my hands across a dry portion of my skirt. My hands hit something firm hidden away in the depths of the voluminous thigh length fabric, and I realized for the first time I might have something in my pockets.

Taking the grapes from Koby’s hands first with a murmured thank you that I am certain neither heard, I pop one into my mouth before reaching into both the pocket hidden in the right-hand seam on my dress and the one hidden in the opening of the thigh slit on the left-hand side of it. I had a total of three items on me, one familiar, two unfamiliar: a small heart-shaped hand sewing kit (Familiar), a Golden rose shaped compact mirror (Unfamiliar), and a 4 oz tin of what I am assuming from the smell is sunscreen (Unfamiliar).

Munching on a few more grapes, I focused on the boys who still seemed to be arguing. While Koby seemed to be winning the argument, Luffy didn’t seem likely to back down anytime soon–though he might’ve been doing better had he not been sneaking glances at the grapes in my hands.

Well, I wasn’t going to be able to finish them at this moment if the cramp in my stomach was anything to go by, no doubt a response to being empty for so long only to suddenly have both food and water. I pick off another few grapes and hold them out to Luffy. He immediately breaks off from the argument with Koby to beam at me before rapidly stuffing the grapes into his mouth. I felt my heart flutter a bit at the smile, he was just so bright and bouncy and warm, I couldn’t help but feel the fondness I have for the character transfer to this cosplayer. My son. My sweet sunshine angel. I wouldn’t be weird and pinch his little cheeks–no matter how pinchable he looked–because I was far too aware of cosplay etiquette to touch someone without permission; heaven knows I had enough problems in my lolita days of strangers thinking it’s okay to touch me because I was dressed up.

“Thanks! You’re really nice! What’s your name?” Luffy asks, leaning closer to me with another blinding smile on his face. I was suddenly grateful to be sitting in the bottom of the boat instead of on the seat next to him, since this meant he was simply looming over me instead of being far too close to my face.

Oh, right. Introductions are a thing you do with people, not just calling them by the character’s names.

“Sorry, right. I’m Beatrice. Thank you both so much for saving me, and giving me food and water.” I hope my sincere gratitude actually managed to come across, I had heard enough times in my life that the combination of my sullen face and my goth aesthetic makes me seem less sincere.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Beatrice. I’m Koby. I’m also glad we were here to save you.” It seems like the argument with Luffy was enough to calm him as he barely even stutters through his sentence this time.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy! And I’m going to be King of the Pirates!” Luffy introduces loudly.

I try to stamp down the spike of annoyance that courses through me, at their introductions. They couldn’t even break character for a second? Here I am feeling half dead, probably needing to be rushed to a hospital knowing how fragile my body typically is, and I’m trying to genuinely thank them for their help; and they can’t even give me their real names? I should be grateful. I should cause a fuss. They are helping me, and I shouldn’t ruin their fun. I should be ungrateful. I simply won't cry from frustration in front of strangers.

“Woah! They changed color! How did you do that?!” Luffy shouts in excitement, his hands coming up to poke at my cheeks–clearly he didn’t feel the same constraints of etiquette to not touch strangers. I try to flinch away from the prodding digits, but Luffy just keeps chasing after me, “Do it again! Do it again!”

“Luffy!” Koby cries and tries to restrain the overeager boy, to no avail.

“Do what? What are you talking about?” I wail as loudly as my still suffering voice would let me, hoping my confusion would stop the onslaught.

“The hearts! Make them change colors again!” Luffy demands, still excitedly trying to poke at my cheeks while Koby desperately tries to keep him away.

“Luffy! Stop! That’s rude!” Koby’s cries were unheeded.

“What hearts? What are you talking about?” I ask, more confused than ever. What the actual fuck is happening here?

At my question, Koby stopped trying to prevent Luffy from poking me so he could focus fully on me, “Um–the hearts on your cheeks?” He responded nervously but not unkindly.

“These ones!” Luffy crows switching from simply poking to now using his fingers to smoosh my cheeks.

I stared at them in confusion for a moment, before picking the mirror up off the floor where it had fallen. Opening the compact I held it out far enough away to see the entirety of my face. I hadn’t bothered actually checking my reflection before, I’ve never been one to enjoy my own looks so unless I was actively fixing my hair or makeup I simply wouldn’t bother. I regretted that habit a bit right then, though.

“Huh–that’s…new.” I say in wonder, rubbing my fingers over my cheek. What Luffy and Koby were talking about was immediately apparent, two grey hearts sat prominently on my face, one on each of the apples of my cheeks–though they were so blurred and blended around the edges that they probably could have passed for just an interesting blush were they not, as previously stated, grey. Shockingly, that was not even what was the most surprising about my reflection. I simply did not recognize the girl staring back at me. What I had previously assumed was either fringe or lace hanging down from my bonnet was actually white hair, my own and not a wig from the gentle tug a gave one of the locks framing my face. I had always been pale but now I was practically a ghost, any paler any I would possibly start glowing in the dark. Coupling that with my bright pink eyes I looked about one step removed from being an albino. Add in the dark circle under my eyes and my black gothic clothes and I was a pretty ghostly sight to behold.

Goddamn, I’m adorable.

I stare at my reflection for another beat.

I wonder if I am having a mental breakdown. Looking from Koby, to Luffy, and then back to my very pretty reflection; I let out a very quiet, frantic giggle. Am I hallucinating?

“Did-did you not know you had those?” Koby questions quietly, interrupting my spiral.

I look back up at the boys who are both paying avid attention to me, one in concern, the other in sheer excitement.

I shake my head slowly.

“So, you don’t know how to make them change colors?” Luffy pouts, his finger coming up to poke my cheek again.

“No, I don’t–What color were they before?” I stutter, overwhelmed by the implications of the situation. I begin to reassess the situation I am in. Looking around the boat, I am greeted by the obvious fact that there is no technology in this boat at all. No cameras or anything to record a cosplay photoshoot, they can still just be extremely dedicated LARPers, but the boat doesn’t even have a sail let alone an engine. It kind of looks like it was a lifeboat or dingy that used to belong to a much larger ship.

A shiver runs through me.

“They were pink!” Luffy’s joyful response does little to distract me from the sinking dread in my stomach. The boys’ too realistic appearances, Koby’s sunburn, Luffy’s facial scar, they become far more disturbing to me the more I acknowledge the absolutely insane idea running through my head. It can’t be though. That’s genuinely not possible.

I thought about how before I woke up here, I definitely wasn’t anywhere near a body of saltwater.

“Oh? Are they getting darker?” Koby wonders.

“Cool! Cool! Cool!” Luffy starts excitedly squishing my cheeks with a palm on each side of my face. The beat of his chant syncing with the roller coaster drops in my chest.

“Am I hallucinating?” I ask shakily, while trying to grab Luffy’s hands to pry them away from my face, “Did I die? Legally you have to tell me if I am dead.” I frantically turn to Koby, hoping the more reasonable boy would tell me the truth.

“What? No. This is real. We can see them, too.” He says trying to reassure me, clearly thinking I was simply talking about the hearts still and not this entire impossible situation.

“Of course you’re not dead! We found you! You’re safe and sound, silly!” Luffy happily switches his hold on me so I am now trapped in a headlock/hug combination as he laughs.

“That's– I– You!” I flounder trying to explain what is the actual problem with this situation. They can’t be real! This can’t be real! That wasn’t my reflection! Now there are also little color changing hearts on my face? A face that isn’t even mine? How–

I remember that fucking apple.

Not bothering to try and push the overly friendly boy off, I turned slightly so I could get one arm over the side of the rowboat I was closest to. Ignoring the boys’ questions of what I was doing, I abruptly plunged my entire arm into the ocean.

It has to be at least knee deep, so my whole arm might work.

The effect was immediate. The breath rushed from my lungs as I could feel all the energy drain from my body at one. My arm gripping the boat starts to tremble from the strain of holding myself up. My head felt too heavy for my neck which felt like it had been replaced with a single, shitty bendy straw.

I am suddenly pulled away from the edge of the boat and into the center–not that it makes a huge difference. I am more than tall enough to stretch out and still touch the water from where I am seated. But, the confused–or maybe concerned–gazes of Koby and Luffy, from the worldwide best selling manga One Piece, stop me from trying.

Well, good news is that I probably didn’t give myself food poisoning. Bad news–

“I think I may have eaten a Devil Fruit?” I offer hesitantly, the words feeling completely absurd as they come out of my mouth.

“What?!” Both boys yell at once: one in disbelief, the other in delight.

Luffy’s grip on my shoulders becomes bruising as he shakes me in excitement.

“Please stop,” I beg weakly, feeling nauseous from the stress and my days of being stranded. Anxiety spirals through my brain uncontrollably. You know, any time I ever thought about being in the One Piece world it involved a lot less panic attacks. Though that might have been presumptuous for someone with as bad of an anxiety disorder as I did.

“What kind of powers do you have? What can you do? Tell me!” Luffy rapidly questions, though thankfully he did release me so his accompanying bounces don’t shake me beyond the light rocking of the rowboat.

“I really don’t know. I didn’t even know what I ate was a Devil Fruit until right now,” I try to explain, “I don’t–how am I even supposed to figure out what it is?” In most of the fanfics I have ever read, people just sort of knew what their powers were, or at least it became really obvious immediately, throwing away the guesswork. But, what the fuck could these hearts mean?

“Luffy, how did you know what your Devil Fruit was called?” Koby asks the excited boy.

“Eh? Well, I started stretching on accident, and then Shanks told me it was called the Gomu Gomu no Mi,” Luffy explains casually, which is honestly funny with the knowledge that he was just casually name-dropping one of the Four Emperors, but something about what he said felt off to me.

He said Gomu Gomu no Mi. Not Gum Gum Fruit.

I genuinely don’t know what language we are speaking. Because, now that I've started paying attention to it, I realize that we absolutely are not speaking English. The structure of the sentences feels different as I speak, but it also clearly isn’t Japanese. Four years of high school Japanese does not make one fluent, but I can still tell the difference between it and what we are speaking now. It honestly feels like some sort of mix of the two. But, how am I able to speak it then? Is it a benefit of being in this body? Or maybe it has something to do with my new Devil Fruit powers? Does my new appearance have something to do with my powers? I can feel myself spiralling from the sheer number of questions and lack of answers.

Some part of my struggle must have shown on my face–or maybe the hearts on my cheeks changed colors–because Luffy gazes at my face for a beat before breaking out in his signature grin.

“Oh, that’s right! I ate the Gomu Gomu no Mi. I’m a Rubber Man,” he proclaimed, clearly misattributing my confusion to be about his powers. He proceeds to hook a finger on the corner of his lips and stretches it half a foot away from his face. The release of his flesh snaps loudly like a rubber band across the otherwise quiet waters.

You know, when you see Luffy’s powers in a cartoon style they usually just look a little silly. Hell, even the live action’s CGI version of it was still rather silly looking. Seeing it in person, however, is a tad nauseating. Maybe some of it can be attributed to my overall poor state of both mental and physical health at the moment, but watching someone just casually stretch their face like that is so much actual body horror, that for a second I think I might immediately throw up.

“Oh that’s…” I mumble, feeling more than a little faint, “I’m definitely not hallucinating?” I turn to look at Koby at this point.

“I felt the same way when I saw him use his powers,too,” Koby laughs sympathetically.

“Ooh! The hearts got darker again!” Luffy observes joyfully.

I pull my knees up to my chest so I can lean my head down onto them. Deep breaths. Just take deep breaths.

Koby shifts closer to me on my left.

“Um, Miss Beatrice? Are you alright?” the beautiful gentle soul of a boy asks, concern evident even without looking at him.

“Yeah,” I weakly try to assure him while not lifting my head, it does not succeed.

“Are you feeling sick? Do you need more water or to lay down?” Koby sweetly questions, trying to figure out a solution to my problem. He really is such a kind hearted boy, even he is incredibly blinded by his loyalty to the Marines.

“Do you want to eat some meat? That usually helps me feel better,” Luffy pipes in as well. It almost makes me laugh how extremely typical his suggestion is.

God, this is really happening. What should I do? I am crushed by an unbearable sense of choice paralysis, but that isn’t even appropriate because what choice do I actually have here? It’s not like Koby or Luffy have the answers to any of my questions. Besides, what am I even supposed to do in this world? How am I supposed to survive? Am I just going to be abandoned at Shells Town, no money–er Berri–to my name, no connections to rely on for help, hell–I wasn’t even sure of what kind of technology fully existed in this world because canon is so unreliable about it. Technically I don’t even know if this world fully has electric power. Is that one of the things Vegapunk was working on? But don’t a lot of islands, even in the East Blue, have modern lighting and signs? Does it honestly matter?

The only other options are to join Koby in enlisting for the Marines–I would actually rather die–or see if I can convince Luffy to bring me along. But would he? I guess me being from another world is pretty interesting. That might be enough to convince him to at least let me tag along until I got somewhere better than Shells Town. I’m not very good at fighting, and I heavily doubt Luffy would be excited to have a fashion designer, it’s not exactly an important job aboard a ship after all. Maybe if I could just tag along to Syrup Village? If I ask nicely, Kaya might let me live with her. I don’t know if I’m charming enough to pull that off, but this new face is certainly much cuter than I was, maybe that will tide me over?

A warm hand wraps around my own causing me to flinch in surprise, and turn my gaze to look at the offending appendage. Shifting my gaze from the hand–larger than I would have expected, or was mine smaller than before–to the toned, but not muscular arm it was attached to, up to the face of Monkey D. Luffy staring intently at me. The little furrow of his brows and the unblinking stare of his warm gold flecked brown eyes gave the impression that, while very confused, he was trying his hardest to comprehend the situation.

I’ve always had a weakness for Luffy.

“I–” I pretend that my throat catches because of the residual dryness and not because of the tears I am desperately holding back, “I suddenly have a lot of problems, and I have no idea how to fix any of them.”

Luffy continues to stare at me for a moment, and I am helpless to break away from his gaze, no matter how uncomfortable I am with eye contact. For my efforts, he graces me with a smile to rival the brightness and warmth of the sun shining down upon us.

“Then we fix the first thing.” Luffy says as if it is as simple as that. And you know what, maybe it is. Maybe, for right now, I can just follow along at his pace. He is the main character after all.

I shakily breathe in, hold, and release. I give him the best smile that I can–trying not to think of the fact that I don’t even know what that looks like anymore–and nod in agreement. It helps, letting someone else take the reins, the crushing weight in my chest unfurls.

“Ah! They’re pink again,” Luffy exclaims, reaching his free hand up to poke at my cheek.

I grab the little mirror out of my pocket again to see for myself. True to his claim, the hearts on my cheeks have indeed changed from grey to a light shade of pink. This also gives the confirmation of my earlier assumption that with how blends out the at edges it really looks like I just had some interesting shaped blush.

“Huh. I wonder why it changed,” I ponder aloud, batting Luffy’s hand away so I could poke at my own cheeks.

“A mystery.” Luffy offers sagely–or what I assume he believes is sagely.

“Do you feel any different than you did before? Maybe that can help us identify what kind of powers you have now,” Koby says, being slightly more helpful than the other boy.

I briefly debate telling them about my change in appearance before tossing the notion away: I may adore Koby, but he was still about to become a Marine, and I don’t want any Marine having that information if it has to do with my transportation to this world and not my powers. Besides that though, did I feel differently? Honestly, for what I had been through up until this point, I felt far better than I would have back home. Being out of the ocean, and having a little food and water in me, had already improved my overall constitution to a point that I would have considered this a good health day before. After some real time to recuperate, would I feel even better? Is this what being healthy was like? Ignoring that–extremely exciting–thought, I honestly can’t say I felt anything easily identifiable as a superpower. If there weren’t these little hearts on my cheeks, and my brand new weakness to the ocean; I probably wouldn’t have the slightest idea that I could have possibly eaten a Devil Fruit.

Vexing.

“I don’t think so…” I eventually respond, it coming out as more of a question than anything. Koby and Luffy nod in commiseration before falling silent to try and think of anything else to help; Luffy even lifting his fist to rest underneath his chin in a cute little thinking pose.

“Oh! I know! I’ve heard that most all Marine outposts have the most recent copy of the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia. We’re headed to the closest one now, so maybe they can help you,” Koby explains excitedly. It was cute to see how much less nervous he gets when he talks about his special interest–the Marines–but unfortunately there is an immediately identifiable problem with that suggestion.

“Do you really think the Marines would just let me walk into a base and look at their encyclopedia though?” I ask hesitantly, even if I didn’t have the foreknowledge about the shitshow Axe-Hand Morgan is running in Shells Town, I’m still positive they would never just share that knowledge with a civilian. I rush to clarify, not wanting to seem rude, “I mean–It’s not a bad idea. I’ve never actually read a Devil Fruit Encyclopedia so it would be a wonderful opportunity. But, the Marines aren’t typically that open to civilians, are they?” 

“Um–well–I mean–They probably will–I think–You’re an innocent person in need, after all! The Marines would want to help you,” Koby stutters clearly deflated a bit despite my efforts to soften my question.

“We could steal it,” Luffy interrupts plainly.

Koby and I simultaneously turn our heads to look at the stretchy boy.

Luffy grins back at us.

“Ah! Luffy! You can’t just–I’m so sorry, Beatrice! He’s just joking! You can’t just break into a Marine compound and steal from them, Luffy!” Koby shrieks in a panic, furiously trying to cover for Luffy’s lackadaisical mention of crime. As if he hadn’t already announced that he was a pirate upon introduction.

His panic makes sense, I guess, we are in East Blue, the babiest and probably quickest to panic of the four Blues.

Honestly, same East Blue, same.

“Why not? If they won’t let her just read the book, why don’t we just take it? It’s just a book.” Luffy bulldozes forward with his suggestion, clearly not understanding the reason Koby is worried.

“Luffy!” Koby hisses in panic. He tries to lean forward to shield his next statement from me, which is rather difficult considering I am sitting in between the two of them. “You can’t just talk about stealing from the Marines in front of anyone!”

“Why not? I’m a pirate. That’s what pirates do,” Luffy laughs in a way that clearly shows that he thought Koby was the one being stupid here, though still managing to sound playful about it.

“Luffy!” Koby, deciding that there was no way to get the rubber boy to understand the social faux pas he was committing, attempts to vault over me to the bench Luffy was currently occupying and slap his hands over the other’s mouth.

Luffy clearly took this as an opportunity to play with Koby, so instead what happened was: Koby lunged, Luffy grabbed his outstretched arms, Koby shrieked, Luffy flipped Koby and took his place of victory by sitting atop his chest, the rowboat rocked violently, and I was left stretching my arms out behind me and my legs in front to brace myself against the sides and pray we weren’t about to capsize.

Luffy laughs.

Koby whines and struggles to get Luffy off of him.

I finally break down laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Luffy beams at me in glee.

It was only once Koby stops struggling that Luffy finally lets him up. While they readjust themselves, I struggle my way up onto the bench Koby had just abandoned. As my chuckles die down, I take in the sight of the two boys across from me. It’s surreal looking at a couple of actual strangers, but knowing so much about them that they feel like friends. I wonder if this is what it’s like meeting your favorite celebrity.

Koby is the first to break the silence, “He’s not a bad pirate. Not like most of them. And! I’m going to Shells Town to enlist in the Marines. So, you don’t have to be worried or anything, no one here is gonna hurt you.” His eagerness to try and comfort me, though unnecessary, was sweet. I have always had a soft spot for Koby, especially this small-framed bundle of nerves version from early canon. It’s basically impossible to not be a little charmed by the boy, when he’s trying so hard to make sure I feel safe.

“You know. I’ve never met a pirate before, so this is a pretty exciting experience for me,” I say warmly, trying to signal that I am not uncomfortable.

“Wah! Really! I’m the first pirate you ever met!” Luffy exclaims, bouncing in place again.

“Yep, and since you’ve already saved my life, I’m thinking that this has a pretty positive outlook so far,” I add pleasantly, trying not to laugh when Koby looks more concerned at my positive reaction to pirates than he did at my perspective fear of them. The poor boy really has an incredibly narrow view of the world, though I can’t blame him too much. It’s hard to realize you’re in the propaganda machine when information is so strictly censored. Plus having his only real experience with pirates being held hostage by Alvida, I figure I could give him a pass this time.

Luffy claps and cheers before asking, “So? What do you wanna do about the book? It’ll probably help make things better if we figure out your power, yeah? I can help you break into the base and steal the book! It’ll be fun!” I couldn’t help but be touched that one of my favorite characters was trying so hard to help me feel better–even if it was in the form of peer-pressuring me to commit crime.

“I mean, obviously that’s too dangerous! Most people aren’t like you, Luffy. I could help you ask when I enlist,” Koby quickly offers as well. Looking at both of their earnest expressions, I can’t help but imagine them with little devil horns and angel wings. I can’t lie, the mental image is extremely cute. It would be cute little costumes to make them, if I had the time or materials.

The choice probably would have been harder if I didn’t know what was about to happen.

“I want to steal.” I decide. 

The immediate response of Koby groaning and dropping his head into his hands, while Luffy cheers and flings himself over to sit next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me tightly into his side and sways us back and forth. I realize that I might need to work on how anxious physical contact makes me if I am going to spend any amount of time with the rubber pirate.

“This is gonna be so fun!” Luffy laughs before turning to the other boy, “Koby, you wanna join?”

“Luffy…I’m–I’m gonna enlist to become a Marine, just like we talked about, I’m going to follow my dream. I can’t help you steal from them…” Koby explains earnestly. His gaze upon Luffy is soft and full of regret.

Luffy’s smile somehow manages to grow even larger at the statement, “Good. Alright then! Looks like it’s just us, Betris!”

Koby and I look at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask in disbelief.

“It’s going to just be the two of us?” Luffy responds tilting his head to the side, which would have been cute in a different situation.

“No…The-what did you call me?” I clarify.

“Betris.” He says wildly confident in his statement for how incredibly wrong it is.

“That is not my name...” I shake my head, Koby mirroring the motion.

“Beetris?”

“Still. No.”

“Beetrees?”

“No that’s–how is that–It’s somehow worse.” I take a deep breath in exasperation, “Beatrice.”

“Beetrees.” It would be less insulting if he didn’t sound so sure of himself as he said it.

“No, that’s exactly what you had said before…” I sigh as I realize that my name might actually just be too hard for Luffy, “Why don’t you call me Bee. My friends used to call me that, sometimes.”

“Bee!” Luffy cries out joyfully and proceeded to hold me tightly against his side again while laughing.

Koby looks like he is about to apologize for the other boy, but I simply wave him off.

“It’s fine. You can call me Bee, as well. If you want to, of course.” I offer.

“I’d like that, Bee.” He smiles shyly.

“Yay! Here’s to an adventure with my new friends Bee and Koby!” Luffy leans forward and wraps an arm around Koby’s neck to pull him into an impromptu group hug.

“Alright, well we’re not going to get far if we don’t start rowing again.” Koby eventually breaks away and pulls out a compass. The boys explain that they have been taking turns rowing in hopes that the constant movement would help us reach the island before nightfall. Luffy takes up rowing duty, his excitement clearly giving him some extra energy to burn off.

I pick up my discarded items and lay them out next to me on the bench. I quickly decide that the sewing kit and mirror aren’t of any use for the moment, so they go back into my pockets, and my gloves are still wet to the touch so I leave them where they were. All that leaves is the tin of sunscreen, and since I am no longer going to be laying face down with my bonnet shading me from the sun, I figure it is probably a good time to use some.

As I deftly apply a small amount on my own face, I find my gaze drifting towards Koby.

“Your poor face. I bet you’re almost as pale as me,” I mumble quietly, talking more to myself than towards my companions. I hold out the tin to him so he can take some, but he just looks at me in confusion. I huff before taking measures into my own hands and hesitantly dabbing some onto his face for him. “Here, just–Gently rub it in. Any sunscreen is gonna be better than leaving you to continue to bake away.”

I resist the urge to flex my fingers in an attempt to shake off the nerves of touching someone else’s face. Be. Normal.

Koby is immediately and obviously embarrassed by the gesture. His stuttered murmurs go ignored and he is quickly left with nothing to do but follow my instructions and massage the lotion into his face. “Oh! That’s actually very nice. It already hurts a little less.”

Luffy watches us in eager interest. If we had been animated I’m sure he would have stars in his eyes. His wide eyes flit from me to the jar to Koby and back eagerly. I dab a bit onto his cheeks and the tip of his nose for good measure.

“That smells weird. Can you eat it?” He questions as he quickly rubs it around his face, before resuming his rowing.

“Probably not. It’s lotion so even if you could eat it, I’m certain it wouldn’t taste good,” I try to cull the desire before it actually spreads roots in his brain.

“Boooooo.”

“Thanks, for that. I don’t think I’ve used sunscreen since before Alvida took me prisoner.” Koby sounds incredibly genuine, but he absolutely refuses to look at me, which makes me wonder if even mentioning Alvida is still a little traumatic for him–well, that or maybe I made him nervous. I can’t rule it out. This new body of mine might be hot, but I was still a spooky little goth girl and I have been informed before that it sometimes makes people uncomfortable.

“That sounds like it was difficult,” I say in sympathy, because yeah, as much as the like fat jokes about Alvida make me upset, she was a fucking nightmare who kept Koby prisoner for years and worked him to the bone. Like, I know the manga unofficially makes a difference between the kind of thing he went through and what they view as ‘actual slavery’, but like in for all intents and purposes; Koby was kept as a slave by Alvida. The boy is permitted a bit of trauma.

“It was-But! Luffy saved me, and now I’m free to follow my dream, as well. I don’t think I could ever do anything to repay him for that,” Koby proclaims while looking at Luffy in soft adoration, “I may not be able to help you both with stealing the encyclopedia, but I promise I won’t hinder your efforts in any way. Besides, I’m sure they won’t miss it too much. They probably hardly use it considering how extremely rare Devil Fruits are. Frankly, I thought they were just myths before meeting Luffy last night.”

“Thanks, Koby.” I almost tell him we’d try not to cause too much trouble, but we’re literally about to fuck up the man in charge of this base. So-like…Eh? I just smile instead.

“You can just think of it as you’re helping someone in need. That’s what you said good Marines do, right? They help those who need it? Well, Bee needs help from that book! So really it’s for the best.” Luffy reasons simply. For him things really are that cut and dry. It’s kind of nice.

“I suppose…” Koby sighs, obviously not believing in Luffy’s logic, but already understanding that it was impossible to stop him once he had made up his mind. Instead, he just tilts his head back to look at the clouds overhead. He eventually turns his head to look at me, “By the way, how did you end up out here like that?”

Oh, right. I got so caught up in all of this, I forgot people are probably going to ask about me.

“Um…Well…I’m not really sure?” I say after the combined inquisitive looks from the boys becomes too much. “I think I was on a boat, and now that boat is gone. Maybe it sank, or maybe I fell overboard? I don’t really remember. I just know that when I woke up I was out here completely alone.”

“Oooh! Maybe your boat also got eaten up by that big whirlpool! I had to climb into a barrel to escape it!” Luffy suggests.

“Wow. I don’t know which option sounds worse, waking up stranded alone in the middle of the ocean, or hiding in a barrel not knowing where you are at all. They both kind of sound like my nightmare, and I can still swim!” Koby shivers at the thought.

I simply shrug my shoulders. It’s probably better to give as little information as possible right now. I’m not entirely certain what my game plan for any of this is, but I don’t want to ruin any options by spilling too much too soon.

“Eh. Mine wasn’t so bad. I just fell asleep, then by the time I woke up it was nighttime and I was on the ship with you. Then I got to fight, so it was all pretty fun if you think about it.” Luffy laughs, as if that wasn’t an actual fucking nightmare to think about.

“Your definition of fun concerns me greatly, Luffy,” Koby mumbles to himself.

Huh. Luffy’s said that twice, now. That it was nighttime when he met Koby, and he’s also mentioned that he was on the ship. That really only lines up with the live action show right? In the manga they’re on an island, and in the anime it’s daytime. God, I hope this isn’t the live action show. Don’t get me wrong I loved it so very much, but everything is so different about it, and it covers such a small amount of the story; I’d be at a huge disadvantage compared to my knowledge of the manga. I guess the boys don’t look too dissimilar from their actor counterparts, so it’s not unthinkable. What should I do if this is based on the–

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Hold.

Release.

When I open my eyes again, I am looking directly into Luffy’s warm bright eyes. Right. We deal with the first thing first. Next thing next.

Right now, we paddle to Shells Town.

I simply have to put my faith into the most chaotic man possibly in this entire world.

The thought doesn’t scare me as much as I thought it would.