True, Honest Freedom (and the ones who get to attain it)

What It Means to Be Good

Uta had always known that she lived in a small corner of the world.

Windmill Village in general was minuscule when compared to the forest, mountains and sea which surrounded it, but beyond that, she knew that the world was bigger, wider, more wonderful than anything she knew in her little life.

Windmill Village was stifling with none of the adventure that Uta craved. She knew the island too well, knew all the songs that drifted on the breeze. The sea tried to bring her new melodies and rhythms, but Uta wanted to go out there and experience the music of the world herself, not just hear it secondhand.

The need to be anywhere else might've crushed her by now but most days the feeling was tempered by the presence of her twin brother. They spent their days together, doing what little adventuring they could in their small village, occasionally listening to the island's whispers in the waves, the air, the sand, the trees which Luffy was better at hearing than she was, the messages in the birdsong that Uta was much better at picking up. Luffy watched the world, looking deeply at the colors of people's souls to tell when they were good while Uta listened to the songs within their heart to tell her about their souls. It required opposite senses but between Luffy's sight and Uta's hearing, they made it work and they built a constellation of people that they claimed within their small village. It was true that it was a very small constellation, just them and Makino. Grandpa too when he was around, plus Mayor Woop Slap when his song wasn't too annoying and his complaining wouldn't drown out the island's whispers. But there was something else out there.

Ever since she could remember, there had been a feeling in her chest that pulled her heart and mind towards the sea. There was an insistent, sometimes painful, tugging to be somewhere else, somewhere new. There was a place that was home to... something, something that was missing from her life, a song that was unfinished, a melody that she couldn't quite remember all the notes to, something that wasn't in Windmill. Uta didn't know what it was, couldn't even guess, but she knew that she couldn't find it if she stayed on Dawn Island. She had to leave one day, she had to explore the world to find that elusive, unnamed thing.

Grandpa's stories had solidified that idea in her head. When he visited, bringing with him the staccato percussion of drumbeats and the lively blows of bagpipes and bugles, he would tell her and Luffy about his exploits on the sea with the rest of his crew aboard the Hounder. He'd dazzle them with tales of people he defeated or times when he survived the wrath of the sea. Uta would eat up every word, partly because any word from her grandfather was precious and rare, but also because it made it easier to picture herself living out those adventures. She longed to break free of her tiny corner of the world and experience the life her grandfather talked about.

She listened to his other stories too, the ones that Luffy bailed out on because they weren't fun. The ones Garp told when he was bleary-eyed and his loose lips could only produce slurred speech. The ones he told when his heartsong became less jaunty and turned to more of a dirge. She listened when her grandfather's voice grew weary and his shoulders sloped with an invisible weight. She listened as he spoke about regrets and atrocities, his disdain for Absolute Justice and the arrogance of false gods. His words were usually accompanied by the strong scent of his malt liquor, but Uta listened anyway, even when he didn't realize she was the one he was talking to. She listened to him denounce and praise the Marines in the same breath and she knew that she would never want to be as torn on anything in life as her grandfather was about this. It made her sympathize with him even when she grew angry at him for leaving all the time or throwing her and Luffy in the woods to train against monkeys or giving them knots on their heads from his dreaded Fist of Love.

She was adamant about not being a Marine and even though he'd say the twins were supposed to follow in his footsteps, she thought it might've been one of those situations where they were supposed to do the opposite of what he did even if he explicitly told them to do something: like when he offered them liquor which they were supposed to say 'no' to, or when he fell asleep at important moments which they weren't supposed to do because that was lazy, or when he ignored people during conversations which the twins should know better than because it was rude.