Lupin sat alone at his usual corner table on the deck of the Moby Dick, a half-empty bottle of rum dangling from his fingers. The night stretched out endlessly around him, quiet save for the gentle slap of waves against the hull and the distant cry of a lone gull. Most of the crew had either retired below deck or gathered in pockets, swapping stories and passing bottles as they always did. But Lupin wasn't in the mood for company tonight.
His thoughts had been restless ever since the system dropped that new monthly quest on him.
"Make Teach trust you. Be a true brother."
On paper, it sounded simple. Teach was one of the most sociable bastards on the ship — loud, boisterous, always ready to share a drink or a laugh. But Lupin knew better. He knew who Marshall D. Teach would become. A snake hiding in plain sight. A monster biding its time.
But the system didn't care about that. It gave him the quest, and Lupin had no choice but to play along.
He let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming absently against the worn tabletop. It had been too long since he got a monthly quest. For weeks it was just those mind-numbing daily tasks: spar with someone, clean a deck, win a drinking contest, gather herbs for the ship's doctor. Tedious, meaningless chores. This new quest, uncomfortable as it was, at least gave him a sense of purpose. Something… different.
Another swig from the bottle. The burn was a welcome distraction.
Then came the footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. Lupin didn't need to look up to know who it was. The shadow that fell across the table was all too familiar.
"Yo, Lupin! Mind if I sit?"
That voice. Deep and gravelly, carrying a grin with it.
Lupin forced a smile and gestured at the empty chair across from him. "Sure. Seat's yours."
Teach plopped down with a grin, setting a bottle of his own on the table. "Man, I tell ya — nights like this? Ain't nothin' like 'em."
Lupin chuckled softly, keeping up the act. "Yeah. Nothing like 'em."
They fell into easy conversation, swapping stories about dumb recruits and weird sightings at sea. Lupin was careful to steer the talk away from Devil Fruits, ambitions, or the future. He'd learned from the first few conversations they'd shared — some topics were better left alone.
The night stretched on. The rum worked its way through his system, dulling the sharp edge of his nerves. And somewhere between the third and fourth drink, Teach's posture relaxed. His booming voice softened. Lupin recognized his opening.
He drew a breath, feeling his chest tighten. This was going to hurt, but he had to sell it.
"Teach," he said quietly, his voice barely carrying over the lapping waves, "can I tell you something? Somethin' I've never told a soul on this ship."
Teach raised a brow, the grin slipping from his face. "Course, brother. Go ahead."
Lupin stared down at his glass, tracing a fingertip along the rim. "I wasn't always a pirate. Hell, I wasn't even a sailor. Grew up in a no-name town. Dirt roads, wood shacks. My mom… she was sweet. Always hummin' some old lullaby. She died when I was six. Some sickness."
His voice faltered, and for a moment the old ache from his real life bled into the lie. He let it show.
"My old man did his best after that. I remember his hands… rough from work. Every night he'd come home, pick me up, tell me it'd be alright."
Teach's grin had long since faded. His dark eyes were focused, watching Lupin like the world had narrowed down to just them.
"But when I was eight… my brother…" Lupin swallowed hard. "He shot our father. Right in front of me."
The words came brittle, broken. His breath hitched. He didn't have to fake the tremor in his voice.
"He didn't say a word. Just pulled the trigger. I can still see his face. No anger, no grief. Just… nothing. And then my old man was gone."
Lupin shut his eyes, a tear sliding free. He wasn't even sure if it was for the fake story anymore.
"I was too young. Too scared. I didn't even scream. Just… sat there. I didn't understand. Why would he do that? Why take the only thing I had left?"
For a long moment, the only sound between them was the waves.
Then Teach reached across the table, his large, calloused hand settling on Lupin's shoulder. His voice was low, rough. "Damn, brother. That's… that's heavy. No kid should have to live through somethin' like that."
Lupin gave a bitter, humorless laugh. "After that… I ran. From everyone. From myself. Thought if I kept movin', I could outrun it. But it was always there. Every night. That gunshot."
Teach sniffled, wiping a sleeve across his face. Lupin blinked in surprise, seeing genuine tears in the man's eyes.
"Shit, Lupin… I ain't gonna lie, that's one of the saddest damn things I've ever heard," Teach said, his voice cracking. "Ain't no man should carry that alone."
Lupin met his gaze, his own face streaked with tears. "I never told anyone before. Not like this. Feels like I been carrying a mountain on my back."
Teach gave a watery grin. "You're tougher than you look, you know that? To go through all that and still be standin' here with us, laughin', drinkin'. You got guts, brother."
He raised his bottle. "To you. And to leavin' all that shit behind."
Lupin clinked his bottle against Teach's, managing a real, if shaky, smile. "Thanks, man. Means more than you know."
They drank, the rum's burn grounding Lupin in the present. The air between them changed — no longer heavy with unspoken things but somehow warmer, easier.
Teach was the first to break the silence with a chuckle. "You know what, Lupin? You're family now. Not just crew. Brothers like us? We stick together."
"Damn right," Lupin grinned, slamming his bottle down. "Brothers."
As the mood lightened, they traded lighter stories — dumb shit Whitebeard did in his younger days, who could drink more between Vista and Jozu, and the time Izo passed out in the crow's nest after one too many.
And in the middle of the laughter, a familiar flicker appeared in the corner of Lupin's vision.
[System Notification]
Progress: Monthly Quest — 'Brotherhood Bond: Marshall D. Teach' — 25% Complete
Lupin smirked.
One step closer.
He clapped Teach on the back, their bottles clinking again, and for the first time in what felt like years, Lupin let himself feel it. Not real, maybe. But here — in this world, on this ship, with these people — it was real enough.
And for tonight, that was good enough.