It's been a year since I woke up in this world, disoriented and confused. A year since I stumbled into Makino's bar with trembling legs and a mind full of fragmented memories. Over time, the fear faded, replaced by the routine of survival in Foosha Village. I started working at the bar, wiping tables, serving drinks, and helping with anything Makino needed. She treated me like family, her kindness a balm to my restless heart. She never asked where I came from, and I never told.
The days passed quietly, each one blending into the next, but my mind never stopped racing. I observed, listened, and connected the dots. Something was off. This wasn't the One Piece world I knew. There was no sign of Luffy. No straw hat hanging on the wall. No tales of a rambunctious kid with dreams of becoming the Pirate King.
Instead, there was Ace—nine years old, fierce, and full of unspoken pain. He visited the bar occasionally, his guarded eyes watching me with suspicion at first, but over time, we grew to tolerate each other. He was nothing like the Ace I remembered from the anime. This Ace was angrier, lonelier, carrying the weight of something I couldn't quite understand.
And then there was Garp. The legendary Marine Vice-Admiral would occasionally visit Foosha Village, his booming laughter echoing through the streets as he checked in on Ace. He didn't seem to notice me much, just another orphan kid blending into the background. But every time I saw him, I felt a chill. This was a man who could crush mountains with his fists, and here he was, acting like an ordinary grandpa.
But the biggest shock of all? Shanks had never come to Foosha Village. There was no trace of the Red-Haired pirate or his crew. No stories, no whispers. It was as if he was still out there, somewhere, searching for the Gomu Gomu no Mi.
The realization hit me hard one night as I lay in the small room Makino let me sleep in. Without Luffy, what would happen to the world? The balance of power, the Great Pirate Era, the entire story I loved—it was all gone. Would Gol D. Roger's legacy fade into obscurity? Would Blackbeard rise unchecked? My heart raced with questions I couldn't answer.
But deep down, a thought began to form, small and persistent: Maybe I was here for a reason.