The awkward silence stretched on, a bizarre staring contest between a wounded man and a terrified reindeer. Mario's mind raced, scrambling for any plausible explanation, but came up utterly blank.
"Eh…" Mario began, the weakest of starts.
It was enough. Chopper let out another terrified "Hiiiiiiik!" and, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to be afraid of humans, spun on his hooves and bolted from the room in a blur of pink and brown.
Before Mario could even process this, he heard familiar voices from the hallway.
"There's that creature again! I told you there was something strange taking care of us!" It was Luffy's voice, loud and curious.
The door swung open as they passed, and Luffy's eyes immediately landed on Mario.
"MARIO!" he screamed, his face splitting into a huge grin as he sprinted to the bedside. Sanji was right behind him, letting out a long, relieved exhale, a plume of smoke drifting from his cigarette.
"Damnit, Mario, we were worried! You didn't wake up for a whole day!" Luffy said, his usual boisterous energy tempered with genuine concern. He moved to hug him but stopped short, his eyes taking in the extensive bandages.
"Guys!" Mario said, a wave of relief washing over him so powerfully it almost brought tears to his eyes. "You're alright!"
"Of course we're alright," Sanji puffed, adopting a cool demeanor, though the relief in his eyes was unmistakable. "You think a couple of clowns could finish us off? We were worried for you, you stupid idiot! When we finished the fight, only to find you already on top. That strange reindeer and Dr. Kureha were already carrying you and Nami into the castle."
"Wait," Mario said, the pieces starting to click into a worrying picture. "You defeated Wapol and his henchmen?"
"Of course we did!" Luffy declared, launching into a narration. "We defeated them, tied them up, and took them to the village since we were so close! Dalton was injured, and the villagers were so funny—they were shocked to see Wapol all pummeled! After that, we heard the cable car was repaired, and we went up with everyone to the mountain!"
Sanji offered a helpless grin. "We were idiots. Maybe Nami could have waited one day, and we could have gone up the mountain without all the hassle. But oh well, what's done is done."
"We were worried most about you," Luffy said, his smile softening into one of deep respect. "You scaled a mountain. With Nami on your back. Injured, no less. That's guts, I tell you."
For Mario, it was a lot to take in, but he digested it quickly. The timeline had been compressed and altered, but they were all safe.
"After that, we stayed in the castle the whole day waiting for you to wake up," Sanji added. "Now we can get back to sea."
"Great!" Mario said, the next logical step clear in his mind. "Finally, we have our doctor."
Luffy and Sanji fell silent. The air in the room grew heavy.
"Nope. We did not. Unfortunately," Luffy said, his cheerful tone dropping.
"Dr. Kureha said no," Sanji clarified, a frown marring his features. "She doesn't want to sail the sea with us. We tried, but she's hard as a rock."
"We decided we'll find a doctor in Alabasta. We can't wait. We asked everyone," Luffy added, as if it were a simple change of plans.
Mario was stunned into speechlessness. "Wait… we didn't get a doctor?"
"Nope," Luffy confirmed with a simple shake of his head. "But I know we'll find one in Alabasta!"
Mario was rendered speechless, his mind reeling. This wasn't right. This was a fundamental deviation.
"Wha-what about Cho…" He stopped himself, changing course. "What about the reindeer?"
"What about him?" Sanji asked, looking puzzled. "Isn't that just Dr. Kureha's pet?"
Oh no.
The realization hit Mario like a physical blow, colder than any Drum Island snow.
He had changed the story.
Luffy and Sanji weren't the ones who climbed the mountain in the original tale. They weren't the ones injured. They didn't fight that desperate, bonding battle at the summit where Luffy and Chopper defeated Wapol together. That crucial, character-defining moment was missing. Because Mario had taken that burden upon himself, Chopper had built no connection to the Straw Hats. Luffy had never seen the reindeer's courage, his strength, or his kind heart in action. He had no reason to be interested in him.
FUCK!
„Well, anyway. Go get some rest. And start packing—it's already morning.," Luffy said, his cheerfulness returning as if the doctor dilemma was a minor hiccup.
„It has to be nighttime because that old witch won't let Nami out of bed yet, and she's scary as hell," Sanji added with a grimace. „So we have to sneak out!"
„Rest until night, then we're out of here!" Luffy declared with a final, decisive nod.
Both he and Sanji waved and left the room, closing the door behind them, their footsteps fading down the hall.
The moment they were gone, the calm facade on Mario's face shattered.
No. No, no, no… this can't be happening…
A cold, sickening dread pooled in his stomach, far worse than any pain from his wounds. Going forward without Chopper? The very idea was unthinkable. It wasn't just about having a doctor; it was about the soul of their crew. Chopper's innocence, his dream, his unwavering loyalty—they were as vital to the Straw Hats as the Going Merry herself.
Marios mind was racing, a frantic, desperate whirlwind. His involvement, his desperate need to be the hero, had shifted the story on its axis.
How could it have happened? The logic was painfully clear. Because Mario had scaled the mountain himself, Chopper had never been forced to reveal his strength. He'd never transformed in front of Luffy, never fought alongside him in a desperate battle for survival. Luffy, who recruited based on instinct and shared spirit, had seen nothing in the reindeer but a shy, skittish creature. Chopper had probably stayed in his harmless reindeer form the entire time, hiding his true self out of fear and shame.
„Shit! Me and my stupid bravado!" he cursed under his breath, slamming a fist weakly onto the mattress.
He had to fix this. But how? He couldn't just walk up to Luffy and say, 'Hey, that reindeer is one of the best doctors on the Grand Line, he has a Devil Fruit, and he can transform seven different ways! You have to recruit him!'
First, they'd look at him like he'd lost his mind. Second, and more dangerously, they'd demand to know where he got such specific, impossible information. And worst of all, if Chopper overheard, any chance of earning the reindeer's fragile trust would be shattered forever. He'd be seen as a threat, a mysterious figure who knew his deepest secrets.
He was trapped. His well-intentioned actions had potentially cost them a nakama, and he had no idea how to undo the damage before nightfall.
Chopper aside, it seems like I CAN change the story. And in a drastic way.
The evidence was undeniable. He had dismantled the Baroque Works threat on Little Garden before it could properly begin. He had physically thrown Wapol off the ship, altering that entire encounter. And now, his decision to carry Nami himself had fundamentally broken the chain of events that was supposed to bind a lonely reindeer to a rubber-man's dream.
This was both a blessing and a curse of cosmic proportions.
The Blessing was a flicker of divine power. It meant the future was not set in stone. The tragedies he knew were coming—the pain, the sacrifices, the moments of sheer despair—were no longer inevitable. He could, in theory, become a true guardian. He could intercept a letter, steer them away from a certain marine fleet, or whisper a warning that could save a life. He could sand down the rough edges of their journey, protecting the family he loved from the worst of the suffering he knew they would endure. The power to rewrite a sad page into a happy one was now, tantalizingly, in his hands.
But the Curse was a hydra. For every head of a problem he thought he lopped off, two more could sprout in its place, uglier and more dangerous.
The Chopper situation was a perfect, horrifying example. His "heroic" act had severed a vital, fated connection. By trying to bear the burden, he had inadvertently stolen the very story that was meant to give Chopper a new family and the Straw Hats their doctor. He had been careless with the timeline, and the cost was a missing nakama.
This showed he needed to be weary, careful of how he proceeded. He had to think not in terms of single events, but in terms of narrative cause and effect. What seemingly minor action could erase a pivotal moment of growth for Zorro? What well-intentioned warning could prevent Usopp from finding the courage that defines him?
He held a scalpel, but he had been wielding it like a club. From now on, every move had to be calculated. He couldn't just change the story; he had to curate it, preserving the essential soul, the defining trials, and the bonds that made them who they were, while carefully excising only the most unbearable tragedies. The weight of this responsibility settled on his shoulders, heavier than any mountain. He had the power to be their savior, but one wrong move, and he could become the author of their ruin.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The soft, distinct sound of hooves on stone echoed from the hallway. The door creaked open just enough for a small, blue-nosed reindeer head to pop into the room, wide eyes scanning the interior nervously.
"Are... are they gone?"
Mario's heart leaped. It was Chopper. This was it—his one and only chance. His mind went into overdrive, a frantic internal monologue screaming at him to be careful.
Don't spook him. If he runs now, he's lost to us forever. Be calm. Be trustworthy.
"Yes," Mario said, keeping his voice low and even, a stark contrast to the frantic drumming of his heart against his ribs. "They're gone."
Satisfied, Chopper slipped fully into the room, moving with exaggerated caution, his head swiveling left and right like a periscope. After a final, definitive check that they were alone, he puffed out his small chest, trying to look imposing.
"Speak!" he demanded, though the tremor in his voice undermined the fake bravado. "How do you know my name?"
Looking at the little reindeer standing there, trying so hard to be fierce, Mario was struck by a wave of pure affection. He was even more adorable in person—so fluffy, with those big, expressive eyes. The live-action version he'd seen on a screen in another life didn't even come close to the real thing.
Play it cool. Be cool. You need to recruit him. This is the most important conversation of your life.