Night fell over the sea.
The moonlight shimmered across the ocean's gentle waves. The towering Moby Dick cut through the water like a prehistoric beast, moving at a steady, slow pace, surrounded by calm.
At the bow of the ship, Kaizen stood, facing the wind. Sleep eluded him. His once clear path in life had shattered overnight—he was now both Marine's top enemy and an ally to the infamous Whitebeard and Roger.
Across the seas, stories were spreading. People spoke of his defiance against three vice admirals and hailed him as a dangerous rising star. Whispers speculated—would he be the next to shake the world, like Roger?
As Kaizen took a deep breath, gazing up at the bright moon, he muttered, "Kuso…"
"It's tough to sleep, huh?" a voice came from behind. Kaizen turned to see young Shanks standing there, his eyes mature beyond his years.
"Shanks... I owe you thanks for all you've done." Kaizen smiled, though it was tinged with weariness.
"No need to force a 'thank you' smile. I did it for my Captain—Roger-san," Shanks replied, clutching the straw hat Roger had given him as he sat cross-legged on the deck, a mixture of pride and sorrow on his face.
Kaizen joined him, finding it difficult to imagine that this slender boy would one day become one of the Yonko, rulers of the seas. He was reminded of Shanks' critical role in stopping the Marines' "Buster Call" on the island.
When rumors spread that Marines, led by Admiral Zephyr, were moving toward an island in the East Blue, the world assumed they were targeting Roger's birthplace. The news reached Shanks in Loguetown, where he'd lingered after witnessing Roger's execution, heartbroken and replaying his memories of his captain. But upon hearing this, he had a flash of hope—this could be a chance to protect Roger's hometown.
Yet, Shanks knew Marine had likely anticipated loyalists like him, waiting to ambush them. He struggled with the reality of not being able to defend his captain's legacy. Overwhelmed, he whispered, "Roger-taicho, what should I do…?"
In that dark hour, he remembered Roger's words: "When you're sad, just look up at the blue sky, Shanks, and you'll forget your worries." But as he raised his gaze, all he saw were endless clouds, obscuring the blue sky. Shanks chuckled bitterly at those "damn clouds."
"Clouds… Whitebeard!" he muttered, realization dawning. Of everyone in the world, Whitebeard was the only one likely to honor Roger's memory by defending his homeland. And so, Shanks went to Whitebeard's ship, where the old pirate captain received him warmly.
"I'll help, but you must agree to one condition," Whitebeard said.
"Name it," Shanks replied without hesitation, willing to give anything—even his life.
"Join my crew," Whitebeard said with a grin.
Shanks readily agreed. But as Marco later revealed with a chuckle, "The Oyaji planned to stop the Marines all along."
Thus, the Whitebeard Pirates arrived in the nick of time, preventing Zephyr's troops from leveling the island and indirectly saving Kaizen and its people. Later, Kaizen explained that he merely had a connection to Roger before his death—Marine had misinterpreted it all in their eagerness to strike. Laughing, everyone agreed it was a fight of misunderstandings, and for the pirates, as long as they fought to their hearts' content, no one cared for the details.
"Perhaps this is fate, gurarara!" Whitebeard mused romantically. He thought he'd gained two valuable allies, unaware that neither truly belonged to his ship.
The one who was most disappointed was Shanks. He had wanted to do something meaningful for his captain, only to find it was all a misunderstanding.
"Roger-taicho…" Shanks finally allowed himself to cry, his small body wracked with sobs.
Kaizen spoke gently, "Roger chased his dreams without looking back, and now he's reached the end of his journey. He'd be unhappy to see you so sorrowful."
"Roger-taicho gave me this hat, saying he'd watch me become a man, but now he's gone." Shanks's voice was fraught with emotion.
Kaizen gazed at him, admiringly. "You're already a man, Shanks."
Shanks cried openly, pouring out his grief.
Just then, a stern voice interrupted them. They looked up to see a dark-haired young man standing with his arms crossed, looking at them suspiciously.