Time slipped by like blood in the sand.
Jin stood at Windmill Village's worn old dock, coat collar turned up against the breeze.
Eyes narrowed, gaze locked on the endless East Blue.
One fucking year… and still nothing. Windmill stays as peaceful as a napping dog. Maybe I came too early. Garp hasn't brought Luffy here yet. Half a year left on my clock—don't fuck this up, old man.
Footsteps behind.
Didn't need Observation to guess: soft, hesitant, familiar.
Jin didn't turn, just let the sea wind brush his face.
"Ki-nee-san," he began, voice low, "did you know? I really do like you. Hell, more than like—I'm here in this quiet-ass village mostly because of you."
One step, then another. He faced her—Makino, gentle smile half-hidden, green hair glinting under the sun.
Before she could react, Jin caught both her hands in his.
"Don't dodge this time. A whole year, Nee-san—we know each other damn well by now. I might only be eleven on paper, but I'm no clueless brat. I know what I want. And what I want is you."
Makino's breath caught. Cheeks turned crimson, eyes darting away.
In the past, she'd brushed it off with gentle laughs: You're too young… wait till you're older…
But this time, Jin's voice was steel under velvet. And something inside her heart trembled.
She lowered her head, words sticking to her tongue. He's just a boy… but why does my damn heart race like this?
Jin felt it: her hand shaking, not pulling away. His smirk softened into something dangerously sincere.
"Don't hide, Makino. Fuck age. Answer me: can you accept me?"
Silence. Then a tiny, almost inaudible voice.
"When… when you're grown up… I'll say yes."
The words tumbled out, softer than falling snow.
And before Jin could reply, Makino slipped free and all but fled back toward the bar, skirt fluttering behind her.
Jin stood there for a beat, then grinned like the devil himself.
Fuck yes! Took a year, but it worked. Love isn't about cheap drama. It's time, patience… and a damn iron will.
His boots thudded back on the dock. Heart pounding in a way no fight ever triggered.
Inside the bar, Jin didn't give her a chance to hide.
He clapped his hands, raised his voice to the regulars:
"Listen up, old farts! Today, I confessed to Makino—and she accepted! Drinks are on me. So drink, and fucking toast us!"
The place exploded. Tankards slammed. Cheers rattled the beams.
Even the village chief, Kazu, stood up, face splitting in a grin.
"Took you long enough, boy! Half the village's been waiting for this."
Makino, cornered by so many eyes, blushed until even her ears turned red. But she didn't deny it. Didn't run.
She just ducked her head, let herself be hugged and congratulated.
And Jin? He stood beside her, smirking like a bastard, soaking in every cheer.
This… this is worth every drop of blood I've ever spilled.
Three months later.
Snow. Real fucking snow, rare in East Blue.
Jin, now twelve, sat on the second floor of the bar, Makino nestled against his chest.
His breath ghosted against her hair.
"Been in East Blue five years… first time seeing proper snow."
Makino shivered lightly, but didn't pull away. "This world's strange like that… the weather plays by its own rules."
Then, voice soft, words trembling:
"Jin… you're really leaving, aren't you? Can't you stay? I… don't want you to go."
Jin tightened his arm around her waist, lips brushing her ear.
"I don't want to leave either, Nee-san. But it's just for a year, maybe less. And I'm no small fry anymore—out there, I'm damn near top dog in the East Blue."
Makino's heart thumped against his ribs.
This kid… no, this man…
"You wait here, Nee-san. I'll come back. I worked too fucking hard to win your heart to just vanish."
Snowflakes fell outside, soft and silent.
And on the distant horizon, Windmill's old pier trembled under the weight of an arriving Navy warship—Garp's flag snapping in the cold breeze.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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