Latest Update: November 3, 2020
Summary: SI-OC in One Piece's world. The standard pack, adventure, loot, haki and whatnot. Don't want to spoil the MC actions, so I won't tell you anything more. Haki and superpowers will make sense, and I'll try to explain properly the workings of devil fruits in a system that is organic and more or less logical without going against what is explained by Oda, possible Spoilers. Extreme Au.
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13583464/1/Unbound-Stealing-the-Thunder
Word count:96k
Chapters:19
Chapter 1: GRINDING
The sky was so blue it almost felt unreal, the few clouds were white and fluffy, roaming among the higher currents. The beach was a long stretch of white, fine sand, the waves quietly crashing on the shore. The ocean shone of a sparkling blue, mirroring the sky, occasionally broken by the white foam of waves breaking against the wind.
"It's different from what I remembered", I muttered to myself.
The body my consciousness was living in appeared to belong to a three years old boy. Red hair with matching eyebrows, irises as blue as the sea itself, and delicate features under the rightfully chibi-face. I was wearing a white cotton shirt and a pair of shorts. I had chosen to forego my sandals to feel the sand between my toes.
It was the first time my mother had allowed me to leave the house on my own, hence why I had chosen to mesmerize myself staring freely to the ocean.
From there my vague awkwardness.
I lived in a small village on a small island, curiously enough, the technology gap between the world I came from and the one I was in was mind-blogging: no school, no hospital. Those had been the first two things that made me realize that there was something wrong.
Have you ever been in a situation so utterly alien that even if you are seeing it, your brain can't elaborate it?
That was how I was feeling.
In my tiny, chubby hand, I was clutching a newspaper. What the fuck was wrong with the newspaper? Simple, really: it was a motherfucking news coo.
That had been the detail necessary to hammer in the absolute certainty of my current predicament: I was in One Piece.
If the manga, the anime, or a mixture of both along with the movies, I had no idea.
And honestly, it didn't really matter. I could have been reborn in the bible for what mattered, even if it would have been undoubtedly less fun. I could remember my previous life like a very vivid dream, and there wasn't a single event that justified my existing into the One Piece reality.
It most definitely was not a dream, simply because if you can think about being in a dream while you are sleeping, it's really easy to distinguish it from reality. At least this is always been something I could do.
Was I in a drug-induced coma?
It doesn't really matter, does it? I realized with freezing certainty.
Fortunately enough, I could recall pretty well the events described by Oda.
If my life was a paradoxical result of a parallel universe in which Goda chose to metaphysically break the fourth wall from day one, I... I honestly didn't know if I wanted a refund or not.
Are my thoughts the result of some dumbass typing on a fanfiction site in the middle of the night?
Do I have free will?
Would I realize if I didn't?
My three years old face contorted briefly into a snarl.
"What the fuck is the point of being born anew in a fucking magical-physics breaking-moral thwarting universe if I can't even do what I want?" I muttered under my breath, the breeze, and the waves covering my words.
At that moment, I knew. I felt, that like hell I was going to conform to whatever. I was in a world of monsters, they mostly walked on two legs, and spoke with a human voice, but they could burn an island whole, cover themselves in magic black mumbo jumbo that allowed them to do whatever. And that was without taking notice of the utter bullshit that was the World Government.
Slavery, corruption...an all-around dystopian world.
I knew that in a world where the islands were separated by deadly stretches of water one from another, the cultural and technological development would be inevitably stunted, even more, because the ones who actively controlled any form of official trade were the Marines.
Read: brainwashed-mercenaries led by inhumanly powerful beings that catered to the whims of a self-sustaining oligarchy that actively implemented slavery just for shits and giggles. Or zealots, that worked too.
If I had a lifetime of dedication I would have joined the Revolutionaries, it was only a matter of becoming strong enough to be noticed, they would complete my training and employ me.
But there were two problems.
One: I really couldn't be bothered to liberally incite revolution just because.
Two: If I already existed on the base of whatever Random Omnipotent Bastard, like hell I was going to obey to anyone but myself.
"What to do, what to do..." I realized that I was strangely calm after the revelation of having being drafted in the standard Self Insert - Other Character fanfiction that I had enjoyed once upon a time.
Is it because of the same R.O.B.? I wondered briefly.
I scuttered closer to the sea, the cool water washing my feet with every incoming wave, and sighed again.
"What is the point of asking myself this shit? It's no different than asking to the aether if Allah or God were real back on the earth..." And it was true, maybe I wasn't real, maybe I was only words on a page, maybe I was a dream of a superior being, or a drawing from Pif the magic dragon. It doesn't matter.
I would make my choices, from the distinct lack of general madness in the edited newspaper I knew that Luffy wasn't around yet.
Which only raises more suspicions on the origins of my existence here. But I avoided once again the topic.
Were I to find a way to join the Straw Hat Pirates only to have a repeat of his adventures? Were I to set sail on my own? To find and join another supernova? To stay civilian?
The only question I had a ready answer for was my last one: Hell No.
I was reborn in the small village on an almost smaller, rocky island where pebbles or sand covered the shoreline and a small forest covered the northern surface. There were less than twenty houses, which meant that everyone knew everything about everyone else, so I was already known at the strange, quiet child of Tomoe and Hitorama Izu, who apparently were my parents. That they were the only ones with Wano-like names on an island where everyone else was a Jhon or a Bob wasn't lost on me, so I could somewhat guess that there was a likely dramatic back story there ready to be learned... the only problem was... I couldn't be bothered to care. Not really, I was accepting of their care, but I had my life once, it had been the result of my choices and my history, accepting those two as my parents looked like a... slight? an offence? a crime, maybe? against who I was.
One doesn't simply decide to start from zero ignoring ll that made he himself: I wouldn't grow up looking up at my new parents, caring about their dreams and whatnot. But I wouldn't lead them by the nose either. Much better, I thought, to be disillusioned immediately from the idea of being my parents, than to be simply abandoned after years of attempts to build a sane parents-son relationship.
I could only imagine what kind of pain and soul-shattering agony having a stranger as a son would cause into Tomoe and Hitorama, but again... they were strangers, I had no doubt I could grow fond of their care, and even grateful of their support, but it would be a lie built to my benefit, and why I usually wasn't against lying and manipulating for my own purposes, I despised the idea of pretending to be less than I was only to keep the two adults on my side.
I'll need to become independent first. I realized, I'll keep them at arm's length until I can take care of myself, then I'll simply leave, no need to keep flaunting that I'm not actually their son in their faces. I didn't enjoy the idea of inflicting pain in two random civilians, but if I were a father, I'd want to know that my child isn't really mine. I sighed, casting away the guilt for not being a normal child and resuming my self-reflection in a direction that I hoped would prove itself constructive.
The boredom of being reborn in such a place was not easy to describe, and there would be no point to it.
It was the first time I was allowed to look without interruptions to the sea, and I could feel it. The Call. The waves, the winds, the promise of living off of what you could fish, the challenge of the unending horizon.
I knew, that one day, I would set sail to the sea.
What would I do then was a mystery, but until I felt ready, there was only one thing I could, and should, dedicate myself to: training. Training my body because I wasn't aware Zoro held any special bloodline and I had seen him take a spectacular amount of abuse. Until my body grew enough, it would be running and swimming in the low waters, doing the bare minimum to help my 'parents'.
Now that I think about it, learning how to properly fish is an excellent idea. I noted to myself. Once I hit five, I would start with bodyweight and steadily increase it. I would push myself until I learned the bullshit skills of the CP9. Or at least, flying and moving fast, these two are a must.
Then...
I smacked myself on my forehead.
Haki
The utter bullshit everyone was capable of that made someone virtually invulnerable or capable of seeing the fucking future.
The overpowered skill that made anyone certified unbeatable on this side of the Red Line.
I sighed, my fingers slowly massaging my temples to soothe my raging headache.
I was years away from any form of actually magical mumbo jumbo, but there was nothing to it.
There was only one thing to do:
Grinding.
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13583464/1/Unbound-Stealing-the-Thunder