Trinket of Syzygy | One Piece fanfic

003.

Chapter 3: Volley Town

Nightfall draws near, as the white-flecked seas progressively mirrored the moonlight's brilliant, yet soulful gaze. Its tapering light eventually sloped towards a boat's direction, thus filling a straight line that vertically ran across the sea's expansive body. A blackened figure sat upright atop the sailing boat, its hazel orbs motioning laterally, as if kept afloat and had a mind of its own. Before long, the figure sailed into the moonlight's scope and was revealed to be a white haired boy, his passion seeming unfettered and never-ending. It was Hayes D. Quince - with a side of pie crumbs, dotting his bloated cheeks. Joyfully, he continuously chowed down on a loaded stash of apple pies that was supposed to last him an entire month. "As always, Rosa's the best when it comes to making these! I just hoped she could've made more of them, incase I run short.. which.. as it stands now, is already happening." Quince battened on the stale, crimped crust of his pie, the munching of food muffling his voice. He frowned at the sight of what seems to be a hundred pies left in his backpack, heaving a sigh of disappointment. To Quince's standards, this kind of portion was never deemed sufficient for his appetite. Hence why Rosa and Claudine made it a point to bake the prescribed amount of pies to fit into his vast, needy void of a stomach. But apparently, it would seem that no amount is ample for him, granted that his digestion process tends to be ten times more swift and active than that of an average human being. Having finished his dinner, Quince plopped onto his back and settled against the upper plank of the boat. In deep thought, he fixed upon the pitch-black ether and whimsically wandered his eyes around, in search of a single star. Unfortunately, the sky was completely hollow. It comprised of nothing but pure darkness. Even so, he extended his arm mid-air and aligned the back of his hand with the moon. A calm, yet meaningful smile tugged both corners of his mouth upwards, though with a token touch of dread and melancholy. With the onset of his journey already taking place, Quince, like any other teenager, couldn't help but sense the lethal fangs of tense pressure, gnawing at him with every step of the way. On top of that, piracy is always known to entail countless unpredictable risks and dangers. Knowing that he couldn't prepare for every single one of them makes it all the more nerve-wracking for the hazel-eyed lad. Occasionally, it makes him doubt himself on whether he'd end up finding his own place amid the turbulent seas or if all this is truly worth his blood, sweat, and tears. The thought unsettled him to an extent and it consistently went on like an endless, looming tunnel.

It was around the break of dawn and Quince was seen, restlessly staring into the sun's ascent. Half asleep, he was seated over a plank, legs firm and arms splayed over each side of the boat. Grogginess was evidently plastered atop his face, as his eyebags mildly weighed on his lower lids. Throughout his whole childhood, the young bloke was essentially taught not to keep his guard down when sailing across the seas, regardless of which part he winds up in. Given his current condition however, perhaps he may have overinternalized that philosophy a tad bit, as he was also taught to prioritize his health and wellness above everything else. It just so happened that he ironically ruled that bit out, in spite of being a trained nurse. "Ah, I'm almost done with these apple pies" Genuinely looking shocked by his ravenous appetite. He stood up and went for a morning stretch. "Oh well! I'll stop somewhere!" Quince then pulls out a map. His navigation skills were subpar at best, and he initially stole it thinking it was an apple pie recipe. In the near distance, a silhouette of an odd looking island juts out like a sore thumb. A plumage of steam emanating from its apex. Dense as he was, Quince was somehow able to stumble upon an island, having barely done anything intuitive. "Volley Island... maybe they love volleyball parties there!" Quince was absolutely lost beyond belief. Within half an hour, he arrived at Volley Island. It was early morning, so the outside was much more bustling and turbulent. Quince enters the island, looking for a place to stay. He finds a small inn to stay at. "Hi, I want to stay here!" "Of course, fill out your name." He writes Hayes D. Quince and takes room number three. The receptionist looks at him "I haven't seen your face around here, you probably ought to know something important." Quince looks at him with his beaming smile. "During the daytime, our grounds become scorching hot. You should probably use these boots whilst you stay here. There's a reason as to why we're called Volley Island." Quince nods in affirmation. Even someone as single dimensionally minded as Quince, was somewhat wary of his safety. "Oh yeah, are there any good apple pies around here?" "You can find them on various dessert menus! They taste nice with a coffee!" Quince was familiar with coffee, but he often ended up putting tons of sugar in his coffees to the point where any normal person would throw up.