Every morning unfolded in a rhythm I had come to know all too well; upon waking, a wave of disorientation washed over me, blurring the lines between dreams and reality. The plush, inviting bed cradled my body like a tender embrace, while the cozy, soft covers enveloped me in warmth. Outside, the gentle sway of the boat rocked me, lulling me into the tempting depths of sleep's embrace once more. Yet, the persistent knocking at the door sliced through the tranquility, a relentless reminder of the day awaiting me just beyond the threshold.
"Wakey wakey, breakfast is ready! You don't want to keep the boys waiting," a cheerful voice rang out, slicing through the fog of sleep that clung to my mind. I squinted into the dim morning light, struggling to place the familiar tone as my thoughts tumbled chaotically. With a reluctant groan, I pulled myself into a seated position, muscles protesting as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The cool air nipped at my skin, making me shiver slightly as I wrapped myself snugly in a soft, fluffy comforter that enveloped me like a warm embrace, its familiar scent providing a sense of comfort and safety.
"Kay," I grunted, shuffling toward the door. "Yasss," I replied to the voice.
"Come on, sleepyhead!" Yasopp chuckled, playfully ruffling my disheveled hair as we strolled toward the dining table. The morning light filtered in through the portholes, casting a warm glow over the crew, many of whom were still fighting off the remnants of sleep. Shanks, the captain, was particularly infamous for his yawns that seemed to stretch on forever, a comical sight amidst the sleepy atmosphere.
I sank into my chair, still cocooned in my fluffy blanket, my knees drawn up to my chest for warmth—the scent of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, a comforting blend that filled my senses. Life aboard the ship was a delightful rhythm of simplicity; my days revolved around eating, sleeping, and repeating that cycle. No exhausting responsibilities were weighing down on me—just the occasional cheerful banter with the crew, which made the experience all the more enjoyable.
Yasopp would regale us with intricate tales of his past voyages, his voice rich with the weight of experience and adventure. Lucky had a talent for providing an array of delicious, bite-sized snacks that were both delectable and easy to savor under the warm sun. Meanwhile, Monster would gently groom my hair, his skilled monkey paws? Untangling knots while I basked in the golden rays of the day. Hongo, ever thoughtful, had gifted me a giant beach umbrella that cast a delightful shade next to my newly designated lounge chair, creating a cozy nook just for me. Even the little girl named Uta would enchant us with her soft lullabies, her sweet voice weaving a soothing melody that gently lulled me to sleep. Despite their boisterous and carefree energy, I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness in their company. They never pressed me to speak or insisted I assist with chores on the ship. Instead, I enjoyed my role as the designated mascot, a title I cherished, second only to the singing diva Uta, of course.
Breakfast for me was an entirely different experience compared to the others. Lucky had a way of preparing soft foods that melted blissfully in my mouth. The steamed egg, with its velvety texture and delicate seasoning, was nothing short of divine. Yet, the most amusing spectacle at the table was the sudden transformation of the man who, just moments before, had been as groggy as I was. In an instant, the lethargic Shanks morphed into a frenzy, launching into an all-out brawl for breakfast. With a massive hunk of meat still clinging to the bone, he went from 'I'm not awake' to 'give me food!' in a blink. Even Uta, who had been rubbing the sleep from her eyes, quickly switched gears, her hands moving with surprising speed as she began shoveling food into her mouth with unabashed enthusiasm.
Though the crew was welcoming and attentive to my quirks, a flutter of unease often stirred in my chest when I noticed the effort they put into making me feel at ease. It felt as if I were an outsider, somehow different from the vibrant tapestry of personalities around me. I wasn't loud or boisterous, nor did I possess that electric energy that often echoed throughout the group. I abstained from drinking, and when it came time for cleaning or chores, I remained a passive observer, rarely contributing.
My daily routine was a tight loop, a series of barely there movements: shuffling from my room to the newly placed chair perched on the deck added just for me, then to the worn dining table where meals were shared, only to turn back and repeat the cycle. An almost indifferent sensation washed over me, leaving me caught in a haze. I oscillated between irritation at my own inertia and a profound sense of lethargy so thick that even the thought of rising to eat felt like an insurmountable task. The contrast left me adrift, suspended between the desire to engage and an overwhelming fatigue that anchored me in place.
"Kouya!" Lucky called out to me.
"Huh?" I paused, breaking away from my inner thoughts.
"Today's sweet, refreshing drink for your little lounge session," Lucky announced with a cheerful grin, as he handed me a beautifully colored, tall glass glistening with condensation. It was filled to the brim with ice cubes that clinked together like tiny bells, and adorned with a whimsical curly straw and a bright little paper parasol. I glanced around, surprised to find that everyone had already finished eating while I had been lost in my thoughts. I nodded in appreciation, cradling the glass with both hands, my fingers snugly wrapped in the oversized, soft comforter I had been dragging around like a beloved security blanket.
I sank into my designated lounge chair, a cozy refuge I had grown to cherish. The fabric embraced me like a warm hug, encouraging me to unwind. With a gentle flick, I opened the vibrant umbrella to shield myself from the sun's relentless rays until lunchtime. I placed my colorful drink alongside the well-worn book I had only managed to read a mere few pages of before succumbing to a blissful nap. The little table held both my drink and the book, inviting me into a world of relaxation and tranquility.
As I took a sip of the refreshing drink Lucky had passed to me, a delightful medley of raspberries, strawberries, and zesty lemonade danced on my palate, evoking a sensation of indulgence. The sun's warm rays filtered through the leaves, casting playful shadows around me. Nestled in the chair beside me was none other than Shanks—the man, the myth, the legend—his vibrant red hair tousled and a laid-back grin gracing his face as he basked in the tranquil afternoon. The atmosphere was thick with a sweet, fruity aroma, perfectly complementing the serene vibe of the moment.
"Hey, sweetheart, are you done with your meal?" Shanks called out, his voice warm and playful. He flashed a broad grin that lit up his features, his hands casually tucked behind his head. The wide brim of his hat tilted just right, casting a shadow over the top half of his face, adding an air of mystery to his already charismatic presence.
"Mhmm," I replied, responding with a sound rather than a word as I settled in to get comfortable.
"It's fun, right? Being a pirate?" Shanks's voice carried a soothing tone of joy and freedom.
"Yeah," I answered.
"What shall it be today—cloud watching, reading, or sunbathing?" Shanks asked.
I debated for a moment before deciding, "Clouds…"
"Ooh, cloud watching!" Shanks exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pointed to a large, billowing cloud to his right. "That one over there looks just like an elephant perched atop a donkey, its massive ears flapping in the imaginary breeze." He paused for a moment, gazing skyward with childlike wonder. He gestured enthusiastically towards a robust cloud, "That one over there looks like a massive piece of meat! Oh, and look at that one! It's just like my straw hat!" With each description, his words painted vivid images in my mind's eye; I truly envisioned the playful scene of an elephant riding a donkey, the mouthwatering piece of meat, and the familiar silhouette of the beloved hat against the backdrop of the endless blue sky.
"Panda…" I managed to say as I looked at a cloud that absurdly resembled a panda.
"What a good find," a voice laughed from behind us. I tilted my head back to see Punch, with Monster hanging off him. "Snake said we are an hour away from our next pit stop, so get ready for land," Punch stated, directing his words more toward Shanks, who was lounging beside me.
"Alright, duty calls." Shanks straightened up, his trademark hat tilting slightly as he adjusted it to settle snugly atop his head. With purposeful strides, he turned away, his presence commanding yet casual. I watched him go, raising a hand for a slight wave, my gaze lingering on the silhouette of his figure as he disappeared into the distance.