The Son We Didn't Raise

PRESENT DAY:

IN A SHADY PUB SOMEWHERE ON THE GRAND LINE

Ever since I was born, fate has thrown me many curveballs; physically and mentally and emotionally and socially and of course politically. Hence, at a very young age, I learned that being prepared was the only way for me to achieve what I wanted. With that mindset, I had set out to the sea. Being prepared didn't ensure my life was easier, but it kept me alive and safe.

Yet, mistakes were made.

I was the one who made the mistake.

Calling him a mistake was unjustified— his birth was not in his control. It was in mine and his father's hands. And maybe fate's. I didn't believe in gods and fates and prophecy, but my heart always told me that his birth happened because maybe fate had taken an extra interest to torture me.

Now I know it was not a maybe, it was fate, that fucking bitch.

I had run into the scumbag in a shady pub twenty-two years back, just a week after witnessing the execution of the Pirate King. Though he had tried to hide it, and almost fooled everyone that he was just a merchant; I could tell he was a Marine, what I had failed to realise was he had already deserted the Marines and lost faith in the World Government.

Also, I remembered him from the day Gol. D Roger's execution; while many cried and others cheered, he had looked on with eyes that were full of unanswered questions. Back then, his face was clean and bereft of any tattoos, unlike the current one he proudly flaunts today on his bounty poster.

And twenty-two years later, I decided to meet him in a shady pub again.

Only smugglers, drug dealers and pirates would come to this godforsaken pub at the end of Paradise. He spotted me first, but I reacted faster. Before Daz Bonez could stop me, I turned into a sandstorm and went for his neck.

"Sir Crocodile." He stopped my regular hand with a grip, fucking Haki. The root of all my misery. "What brings your hook to my neck?"

"Crocodile!" There was the second-in-command, the blonde boy with a burn scar. Another mono-name, Sabo, the guy who ate Portgas D Ace's devil fruit. His fingers were prepared to murder me, his fingers formed a shape that reminded me of dragon claws. I hated the word dragon most; dragon claws, dragon hoofs. celestial dragons, the world's most wanted criminal Dragon! My desire to snap this boy's claws grew stronger. Yet I knew now, that this blonde was precious to someone I couldn't ignore even if it was my dying breath. "What business do you have with him?"

"It's Sir Crocodile for you, you squirt." I sent some sand his way and pushed him away. There was a young brunette standing behind him who squeezed the boy's arm to pull him and cushion his fall. Both adjusted their hoods and observed people who were curious about the brawl I just brought to their table.

"If you break the tables or any property, you gotta pay!" The bartender screamed at us. "If you wanna murder or fuck, take it upstairs, you motherfuckers!" Before I could murder the bartender, Daz Bonez did what was required by throwing a pouch of gold coins at the bartender. "Advance for the damages we will cause." The brunette kept constantly looking out, and the blonde boy was like a hawk eyeing everyone.