The gentle sway of the Moby Dick usually lulled its crew into restful sleep. But tonight, Lupin found no such comfort. A sharp chill gnawed at him, tugging him from the edges of sleep. He groaned softly, breath misting in the cold air of his quarters.
"Cold again…" he muttered under his breath.
He already knew why. Turning, he saw a familiar figure curled up in the middle of his bed, clinging possessively to his blanket like it was a lover.
"Damn it, Izo."
Izo slept peacefully, his long, dark hair fanned out over the pillow. Even in slumber, he looked unfairly beautiful — delicate features, smooth skin, the kind of person who could make hearts skip with a glance. Lupin studied the sleeping face for a moment, sighing as he rubbed his bare arms to fight the chill.
"Tch… if you were a woman, I wouldn't mind," Lupin grumbled, shaking his head. "But you're a guy. And I'm not into guys. At least… I don't think so. Not yet."
He snorted to himself, wondering where the line between preference and admiration blurred. Izo's appearance could fool anyone, but Lupin clung to the belief that he wasn't swayed by looks alone. Not when it came to men.
"Unfair, man. Beautiful bastard."
Resigned, Lupin slid off the bed and stretched, cold air biting at his skin. Sleep wasn't coming back anytime soon. He slipped into his coat and made his way topside. The deck was quiet, save for the rhythmic creak of the ship and the steady rush of waves.
Leaning against the railing, Lupin stared out at the starlit sea. The darkness stretched endlessly in every direction, broken only by the silver shimmer of starlight dancing on the water. He took a deep breath, the salt air filling his lungs.
"I gotta get stronger," he whispered to no one but the night. "If I want to stay here… I need to prove I belong."
Footsteps sounded behind him — heavy, familiar. A hulking shape appeared at his side.
"Oi, oi. Couldn't sleep, little brother?"
Teach grinned, a bottle in hand as usual, moonlight reflecting off his broad face. Without waiting for an invitation, he plopped down beside Lupin with a grunt, the deck groaning under his weight.
"Same problem?" Teach asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
Lupin groaned. "Izo. That bastard's a menace. Stole my blanket again."
Teach laughed, a low, rumbling sound. "Gurarara! Guess you should be glad he ain't trying to climb on top of ya!"
"Not funny."
Teach leaned back, swigging from his bottle. "Y'know, if he was a woman, you'd be fine with it."
Lupin snorted. "That's the problem. Izo's beautiful. So beautiful it pisses me off sometimes. But he's a man, and I don't swing that way. I think."
Teach raised a brow. "You think?"
Lupin shrugged. "Look, I'm not into guys. But how long that'll last, who knows? Life out here's weird."
Teach cackled. "Gurarara! That's the pirate life, little brother."
Silence settled between them for a moment as the sea sang its endless lullaby. Lupin watched the horizon, thoughts turning toward his Devil Fruit ability.
"So," Teach said after a swig, "how's that Calm-Calm Fruit treating ya?"
Lupin flexed his fingers. "It's good. I can cancel out sound, mute things around me, make silent zones… but it feels shallow. Like I'm barely scratching the surface."
Teach's grin widened. "Listen, a Devil Fruit's power ain't what it says it does — it's what you make it do. Think bigger. Silence your footsteps, mute your gunshots. Make the battlefield dead silent, mess with enemy captains. Trap people in their own heads. Hell, you could cancel out the sound of explosions or screams."
Lupin blinked, surprised by the solid advice. "Didn't think you had that in you."
"Gurarara! I'm full of surprises, brother."
Lupin's expression turned serious. "I need to get stronger. When Gecko Moria shows up… I want to test him. Not because I care about winning yet — I just need to know if I can."
Teach grinned knowingly. "That's the spirit. Measure yourself against the monsters. You'll surprise yourself."
The eastern sky began to glow with the first light of dawn. A commotion soon rippled through the ship as a sharp voice cut through the morning air.
"Oi!! Wake up!!"
Marco's booming call echoed from above. His phoenix wings beat against the wind as he soared over the deck, a rolled newspaper clutched in his talons.
Groggy pirates stumbled onto the deck, rubbing sleep from their eyes.
"What now?" someone grunted.
"Is the booze gone?" another asked, panicked.
Marco landed smoothly, reverting to human form and grinning like a boy with a secret.
"Check this out!" he hollered, holding up the newspaper.
On the front page was a blurry image of a massive, fog-shrouded ship.
"Thriller Bark!" someone shouted.
A hush fell over the deck.
"No way… isn't that Moria's ship?" a crewman whispered.
Marco grinned wider. "Yup. Used to be an island in West Blue, now it's a mobile fortress heading straight for the New World!"
Uneasy murmurs swept through the crew.
"A ship that big ain't natural."
"I heard he's got zombies…"
"Does he really have Whitebeard's 'Reckless Son' title on his poster too?"
Marco held up the paper, confirming it. "Yeah. And get this — Moria rejected the Warlord seat. Said he's coming here to claim a spot as a true son of Whitebeard. Not just by title. Says he wants to be part of our family for real."
That sent a ripple of shock through the crew.
Even Whitebeard emerged from his quarters, his towering frame filling the doorway, a booming laugh echoing over the deck.
"Gurararara! Another brat with guts! I'll drink to that!"
But there was something more in Whitebeard's expression — a glimmer of genuine interest. He stroked his mustache, eyes gleaming.
"If the boy's got the stones to declare himself my son… maybe he's worth it."
The crew cheered and laughed at the madness of it all.
From his spot at the rail, Lupin smirked.
"Perfect," he muttered, eyes narrowing at the horizon. "Just the guy I need to measure myself against."
He didn't care about titles or boasting. He wasn't interested in killing Moria or proving he was stronger. Not yet. He just wanted to know where he stood. Was he strong enough to survive this world of monsters? Could he hold his own against one of the so-called legends?
He crossed his arms, excitement flickering through him like a match to kindling.
"Get ready, Moria. Let's see just how reckless you really are."
And in the depths of his cabin, Whitebeard chuckled to himself.
"A brat like Moria… maybe it's time I had another reckless son."