Shanks scratched the back of his head, a nostalgic grin tugging at his lips.
"So," he said, voice light as he glanced between Beckman and Giovanni, "it went something like this."
---
The sign above the bar creaked softly as it swayed in the evening breeze.
Shiky Shakky.
Shanks stopped in front of it, tilting his head back to read the faded letters. A laugh slipped out of him.
"Hah. I wonder how Shakky would feel about this."
He pushed the door open without another thought.
Warm light spilled out into the street, along with the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady rhythm of live music. The air inside was thick with smoke, alcohol, and the kind of energy that only came from a place where people came to forget their worries, even if just for one night.
Shanks stepped inside, eyes roaming the room as a smile spread across his face.
"Gio would love this atmosphere," he muttered to himself.
The thought lingered for only a second before his smile softened. He let out a quiet sigh.
"But of course… he's still out cold after that nasty blow from Mihawk."
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
"Damn that Mihawk," Shanks added under his breath, half annoyed, half amused. "Taking out my drinking partner like that. Now I've gotta drink alone. Maybe I can find a solo drinker I can join."
He walked a few steps farther into the bar, scanning the room more carefully. Every table was filled with groups of friends laughing too loudly, sailors leaning over mugs, couples huddled close together.
Shanks grimaced.
"Joining a group is way too awkward," he thought. "You just shove yourself into an already-established circle, don't know any of the inside jokes, and end up nodding along pretending you're having fun."
He exhaled again, shoulders sagging slightly.
"So much for having four crewmembers," he muttered. "Back to solo drinking."
He was just about to head for the bar counter when his eyes caught on someone sitting alone.
A table for two.
Only one person occupied it, his back turned toward the room.
Shanks' expression immediately brightened.
"Bingo."
He strolled over without hesitation, already pulling out the chair opposite the man. But just as he was about to sit—
The man looked up.
And Shanks froze.
It was, without exaggeration, the most depressed face he had ever seen in his life.
Dark circles hung beneath tired eyes. His posture slumped forward as if gravity itself weighed heavier on him than everyone else. Even the music and noise of the bar seemed to die around him.
Shanks' face twisted in instant disgust.
"Too gloomy," he said flatly.
The man blinked, startled, then straightened slightly. "Oh, sorry," he said, voice subdued. "Did you need the table? I'm… kind of still using it."
Shanks stared at him for a moment, then let out a slow breath.
"I was looking for a drinking buddy," Shanks said honestly. "But I never expected to find someone this depressed."
The man let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Yeah… sorry about that. Must be a disappointment, huh?" He waved a hand weakly. "I'm not really great company right now. You should probably try someone else."
Shanks studied him in silence, eyes sharp but not unkind.
After a few seconds, he sighed, pulled out the chair anyway, and sat down.
"Now that I've seen you like this," Shanks said casually, "I can't just pretend I didn't and walk away."
The man looked at him in mild surprise.
"I don't know what got you into such a state," Shanks continued, a grin slowly returning, "but I promise you, I'll wipe it right off. A couple of beers should do the trick."
The man immediately raised both hands. "No, really, it's fine. You probably came here to relax and have fun, not to babysit some depressed stranger."
Shanks nodded. "You're right."
The man paused, then blinked.
"But," Shanks added, leaning back in his chair, "it's not like I've got better options. I hate drinking alone. If I wanted that, I'd just drink on my ship."
The man stared at him.
"So… I'm your second choice," he said.
Shanks nodded without hesitation. "Yep."
The man sighed deeply. "Wow. That was blunt. You didn't even try to sugarcoat it."
Shanks grinned.
Another moment passed before the man finally shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
"Well," he said, "since you're so determined, I won't stop you."
He extended a hand across the table.
"The name's Building Snake."
Shanks' smile widened. He reached out and clasped the hand firmly.
"Shanks."
---
Three hours later, the table that had once been neatly arranged was now crowded with empty mugs and half-spilled cups of beer. The air around it buzzed with loud laughter, the kind that only came after hours of drinking without restraint.
Shanks sat slouched in his chair, his cheeks flushed a deep red, his grin wide and unguarded. He slammed his mug down a little too hard and pointed at the man across from him.
"Snake," Shanks said, his words slightly slurred, "you're pretty good with your alcohol tolerance."
Across from him, Building Snake looked… fine. Too fine. Despite the sheer number of empty cups between them, his posture was steady, his eyes clear. If anything, he looked like he could easily keep going.
Building Snake chuckled softly. "Yeah. I've always had a high tolerance for alcohol."
He lifted his mug, peering into it with mild annoyance before setting it down again.
"It's not exactly a trait I like," he continued. "To actually get drunk, I have to drink two or three times more than the average person. It's pretty annoying, honestly."
Shanks laughed loudly at that, leaning back in his chair. "Well, look at you now." He squinted at Snake's face. "That gloomy expression you had earlier? It's gone."
Building Snake paused, then smiled faintly. "I guess it is."
He let out a small breath before glancing back at Shanks. "Still… to think you were on the crew of the Pirate King himself. Gold D. Roger." He shook his head in disbelief. "This world really is small."
Shanks waved a hand dismissively. "Eh, you get used to it."
Then he tilted his head, eyes roaming over Snake's appearance, his swords, his bearing, the way he carried himself.
"Speaking of which," Shanks said casually, "judging by your aesthetic, you're a pirate, right? Where's the rest of your crew?"
The change was immediate.
The faint smile on Building Snake's face faded, replaced by the same heaviness Shanks had seen earlier. His shoulders stiffened just slightly as he stared into his mug.
"That…" Snake said quietly, "…that's the reason I was depressed when you showed up."
Shanks didn't interrupt. He simply watched.
"You see," Building Snake continued, "I'm something of a bad luck charm."
Shanks raised an eyebrow. "Bad luck charm?"
Snake nodded slowly. "I've been part of three pirate crews in my lifetime. Every single one of them has been wiped out."
Shanks leaned forward. "Wiped out?"
"Yes," Snake said. "Wiped out."
He took a breath, steadying himself.
"The first time was when I started my own crew," he said. "We had big dreams of freedom, adventure, all of it. But once we reached the Grand Line…" He let out a hollow laugh. "Reality was grim. We ran into the Emperor Big Mom."
Shanks' expression sharpened slightly.
"My entire crew was wiped out," Snake continued. "I was the only one who survived."
The table grew quieter.
"After that," Snake said, "I joined another pirate crew. This time, we crossed paths with Admiral Sengoku. We were completely defeated. Everyone was thrown into prison." His jaw tightened. "I barely managed to escape."
He paused for a moment before going on.
"And recently… I joined yet another crew." His voice dropped lower. "We encountered the newly promoted Admiral Akainu."
Shanks didn't blink.
"He slaughtered everyone," Snake said flatly. "Only I lived."
Silence hung between them.
Snake looked down at his hands. "So you see why I call myself a bad luck charm."
Shanks stared at him for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
"You've had a rough ride," Shanks said honestly. "That much is true."
He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
"But I don't believe in bad luck," he continued. "Not like that. I think it comes down to power."
Snake looked up.
"You didn't have the power to protect your crew," Shanks said calmly. "That's all. And if that's the problem, then the solution is simple."
He grinned.
"Get stronger. Strong enough that you don't lose the people you care about anymore."
Snake stared at him, stunned.
Shanks lifted his mug once more, his eyes bright despite the alcohol.
"Funny thing is," he said, "I'm actually looking for new crewmembers right now."
He held Snake's gaze.
"Building Snake," Shanks said, smiling wide, "how would you like to join my crew?"