Under the cool shade of a coral-laden archway in the heart of Fish-Man Island, Jinbe sat in quiet meditation. His breathing was steady, deliberate—grounding himself as he always did in moments of calm. But this calm felt... unnatural.
The rhythmic hum of the ocean's currents was as familiar as the blood in his veins, yet something about it felt off. It wasn't as soothing as it should have been. It was as though the entire sea held its breath.
His brows furrowed in concentration as unease crept into his chest. Slowly, Jinbe opened his eyes.
"This… This isn't right," he muttered, his deep voice laced with confusion.
He looked around, expecting to see the bustling activity of Fish-Man Island's vibrant marketplace or the grandeur of Ryugu Palace, but instead, he found only the quiet expanse of his meditation alcove.
"Fish-Man Island..." he whispered to himself, clutching his chest as his mind raced. "Why am I here?"
For a moment, Jinbe wondered if it was all a strange, vivid dream—a trick played by his weary mind. He pressed a palm against his face, the ridges of his calloused skin brushing over his brow as he tried to shake off the disorienting thoughts. The last thing he remembered was the storm and the overwhelming certainty of his crew's presence. Now, they were... gone?
"No, this can't be real," Jinbe muttered, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
Jinbe's feet echoed softly on the smooth coral pathways as he walked deeper into Fish-Man Island. The weight of the world seemed to press down on him with every step, but his thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion. His chest tightened with the unanswered questions that gnawed at his mind, but there was no escaping them. The images of Whitebeard, Ace, and Luffy—his brothers, his captain—felt distant, unreal, like fragments of a shattered memory.
The realization began to settle like an anchor in his stomach: this wasn't right. The strange stillness in the air, the lack of urgency, the absence of the events that had once felt like a fire in his soul—it all made sense now. Jinbe wasn't just lost in thought; he had lost something far more fundamental.
Was he dreaming? Had he… gone back in time?
A cold shiver ran down his spine as he made his way toward the heart of the island, seeking answers. There had to be someone who could explain. The bustling marketplace was filled with Fish-Men and mermaids, laughing and chatting as they went about their daily lives. It looked like any other normal day, yet it felt so wrong.
Jinbe spotted a familiar face—Kanjuro, the fish-man who used to help run the fish markets near the Ryugu Palace. He was chatting with a group of younger fish-men and tossing some fish into a basket. Jinbe hesitated for a moment, then approached him.
"Kanjuro," Jinbe began, his voice firm but betraying the deep confusion in his heart. "Tell me, do you know if Whitebeard is still alive?"
Kanjuro froze mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing with bewilderment. "Whitebeard? Who's that? Wait, are you talking about the big guy from the New World?" He let out a hearty laugh, scratching his head with his webbed hand. "Nah, Jinbe, he's not dead. Never heard anything like that. You've been hitting your head too much? Maybe you're still groggy from that last fight you were in, huh?"
Jinbe's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean, not dead? You're telling me Whitebeard is still alive?" His voice wavered despite himself.
Kanjuro gave him a strange look and shrugged. "Of course he's alive! What are you talking about? He's not even close to dying, Jinbe! You gotta rest up, my friend. Seems like the heat's gotten to your head." With a final chuckle, he turned back to his basket, clearly unconcerned by the strange question.
Jinbe blinked, his mind racing. Was it possible? Had he really gone back in time?
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice. A fish-woman, one of the merchants who sold shell accessories, waved him over.
"Jinbe! You look like you've seen a ghost!" she called, her scales glittering in the sunlight. "What's going on?"
Jinbe approached her, his throat dry with a new sense of urgency. "Do you know if… Ace is still alive? Was he... executed?"
The fish-woman's face momentarily froze in confusion. She tilted her head, then furrowed her brow, as if trying to place the name. After a beat, she spoke with a hesitant smile.
"Ace?" She repeated, her eyes widening slightly. "You mean Portgas D. Ace, the second-in-command of the Whitebeard Pirates? Yeah, I know who he is. He's pretty famous, even here. But executed? What do you mean, 'executed'?"
Jinbe's heart skipped at her words. Second-in-command of the Whitebeard Pirates—that was right. Ace was Whitebeard's second.
But executed?
"No, I mean," Jinbe struggled to find the right words, his voice slightly trembling, "Was he... was he killed by the World Government? In front of everyone, at Marineford?"
The fish-woman's eyes went wide, her expression caught between confusion and concern. "Killed by the World Government?" She repeated slowly, glancing at the other merchants nearby, who had stopped talking and were now listening in.
She cleared her throat, then shook her head. "Jinbe, I'm not sure what you're talking about. The World Government hasn't done anything to Ace. I haven't heard any news like that. And he's still a part of Whitebeard's crew—I've seen him around, though he doesn't usually come to Fish-Man Island. Maybe you've heard some rumors?"
She chuckled lightly, but there was an awkwardness to it. "Executed? Jinbe, are you feeling alright? That sounds like a pretty wild story to me."
Jinbe stood frozen, his mind still reeling. He wasn't crazy. He knew the history of Ace's execution. He remembered the pain of that moment, the feeling of helplessness, the grief as the news of Ace's death had rocked the world. Yet, here, in this time—this moment—everything felt... wrong.
"Are you sure? I mean..." Jinbe's voice faltered. He grasped at the fragments of his past that now felt distant, as if he were trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers. "He died in the war with Whitebeard... at Marineford. You don't know about the war?"
The fish-woman's smile faded slightly, and she gave him a puzzled look. "War? What war? Are you sure you're not mixing things up? The only war we've had around here was with the humans and their attacks, but nothing like... what you're describing."
She paused, giving him an even more concerned look. "Jinbe... you've been in the sun too long, haven't you? You were always the calm one, the one who kept his cool, but this... this doesn't sound like you." She leaned forward, speaking softer now, as if worried he was ill. "Maybe you should take a rest. Get some water. You're acting like you've had a blow to the head."
Jinbe swallowed hard, his mind struggling to make sense of her words. Ace, Whitebeard, the war—it was all real. But if the fish-woman was right, if the events hadn't happened yet, then... what was happening to him?
The weight of uncertainty pressed on him like the ocean's depths, and he stepped back, feeling the cold reality settle in. He was in a time before all of it had happened—before the war, before Ace's death.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice quiet, and he turned away, trying to steady himself. His chest tightened, and despite the warm sunlight overhead, a cold fear seeped into his bones.
.