"Reality is often cruel to those who dream, as how the seas, too, are often cruel to those who call themselves pirates."
A seasoned merchant of the New World drifts in the weakest sea of all, and finds a dream in the form of Luffy, adventures, and p...
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OR, names change but it is still yours
"So then, we take a left here?"
Your footsteps echoed throughout the empty halls of the Marine Base, ricocheting off the walls like in a horror story. The flickering lights don't make it any better.
You're only halfway to the basement, and you already wanted to tear down the walls.
Safe to say that you do not have a good feeling about any of this.
Monster-which, by the way, is a cool freaking name for a Monkey-Thief honestly-from his perch on your shoulders pulls on your ear, and you silently winced, as he points to the opposite direction of what you've just said.
Swatting his hand away, you pursed your lips together in a thin line. "Pretty sure you said left."
Monster deadpans as you turn a corner.
The walls, which housed the people sworn to live under, say a lot about their owners; stories that were never told, promises that were never kept, and love that was never given.
The walls speak, you just have to listen.
A gloved hand makes its way to touch the walls, coming into contact with grime and dirt running down, filling the cracks hidden by the chipping paint and lousy maintenance. Weak and thin, hollowed out and foundations nearing its end.
It whispers uncertainty, despair, and agony.
Your hands close to a fist, and slam against the wall. It breaks and cracks beneath your knuckles.
The walls whispers words of youth.
Monster squeaks and tightens his hold on your shoulders, curling his tail around your outstretched arm. You quickened your pace.
It was a good thing the Marines didn't know where Monster was and was too busy hunting him down outside.
You plan to burn this place down to the ground.
- ❐ -
These past decades, you've always been hopeful.
Even when things happened and the people you met aren't so different from the ones that oppressed freedom, the hope was still there, beneath the layers of anger and sadness, it was still there.
And it will grow once again, small it may be.
. . .
But you are not naïve.
If you were, you would've been dead years ago.
So, even if you wanted to have the benefit of the doubt that whatever the papers Monster stole had been fake and forged. That the Marines of Schwee...Shey...Zwei-whatever the name of the island is-were, honest to God, actually good people.
