Have you ever wanted to enter the one piece world? Maybe you want to be friends with the strawhats, or the heart pirates? Perhaps you'd rather be dating one of them, or all of them!! Here you can do that, feel free to send in requests in my request...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A/N: since I mixed both, I didn't set this in the old era, and I hope that's okay!
The scent of sea salt was thick in the air, sharp and bracing as it swept across the deck of the Moby Dick. Your back leaned against the polished rail, your fingers curled loosely around the clay in your lap.
The sun had risen high above, judging by the heat on your skin, and the deck around you thrummed with life as the crew moved around you.
Boots thudded against planks. Laughter rang out near the mast. Someone, probably Thatch.. definitely Thatch, was humming off key from the galley entrance.
It was one of those rare, quiet days at sea. No shouting. No cannon fire. No looming threats. Just family being family. You went back to the half finished carving in your lap.
The block of clay was roughly the size of your palm, its edges slowly carved into something delicate and familiar, curved wings, outstretched and strong. Another phoenix... yeah. Marco pretended he didn't like them, but you knew better.
A soft shift of weight beside you caught your attention. You paused for a moment, brushing your fingers along the curve of the wings, checking the symmetry. Then, you tilted your head.
There was a familiar pattern of steps approaching. Light. Steady. With a slight click of heels. "Haruta" you greeted without looking up.
There was a brief pause. Then a faint exhale and the soft creak of someone sitting beside you. "You're creepy when you do that". You smirked.
He said nothing for a while. Just settled beside you with a sigh. He wasn't usually quiet. Reserved, yes. Dry witted, certainly. But quiet? That wasn't like Haruta.
"Rough morning?" you asked. He let out a breath, not quite a laugh. "You could say that". You patiently waited, you didn't push.
Eventually, he continued. "I was reviewing some of the newer combat reports... analysing division performance. I've been comparing them to mine".
You nodded slowly, thumb brushing over a smooth edge of your carving. Haruta leaned back on his palms. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm really pulling my weight".
That surprised you. "You're a commander aren't you?". He snorted. "And so are fifteen other people". You smiled softly. "And none of them are you". He didn't answer.
So you kept your voice low, steady. "You know, people come to me a lot. For advice. For comfort. For clarity. They come to you, too. They just don't always realise it". You could hear Haruta shift, skeptical probably.
"Your division listens when you talk" you went on. "They trust your judgment in split second calls. You know, actually, Vista told me you've stepped in during drills and pushed people harder than they thought they could go".
Haruta paused for a while. "Then why does it still feel like I'm not doing enough?". You exhaled gently. "Because you care, the moment you stop caring, that's when you should worry".
