The Staircase That Never Was
The alarm rang at exactly 6:00 AM.
Not a second early.
Not a second late.
I turned it off without opening my eyes.
My body moved before my mind did—muscle memory carved by years of repetition. Sit up. Swing legs off the bed. Rub eyes. Breathe. Exist.
Another day.
The ceiling above me was cracked in three places. I had memorized those cracks long ago. One looked like a crooked lightning bolt. Another like a continent on a map. The third was just ugly.
I stared at them while my mind caught up with my body.
Twenty-seven years old.
Single.
No parents.
No siblings.
No girlfriend.
No pets.
No one waiting for me anywhere.
Just a job.
A perfectly normal 9-to-5 job that paid just enough to keep me alive and just little enough to keep me trapped.
I got up, showered, dressed, and left my apartment.
The city was already awake—crowded trains, honking cars, people rushing like their lives depended on it. Maybe they did. Or maybe they were just like me, running because stopping meant thinking.
Work passed the same way it always did.
Emails. Meetings. Fake smiles. Dead eyes.
"Good job today."
"Let's circle back."
"Keep up the good work."
Words so empty they might as well have been static.
By the time evening came, I felt hollow.
But there was one thing—one thing—that made everything bearable.
Gaming.
Reading.
And above all else…
One Piece.
That world was different.
A place where dreams mattered.
Where freedom was worth bleeding for.
Where people laughed even when facing death.
I had grown up with it.
Grown old with it.
It was the one constant in a life that had slowly lost everything else.
As I walked home that night, my phone in hand, I reread a chapter discussion thread. Fans arguing. Theories colliding. Laughing. Fighting.
How will it end?
What is the One Piece?
Who survives?
I smiled faintly.
"That ending…" I muttered. "I just want to see it."
The crosswalk light turned green.
I stepped forward.
That was when I heard it.
A scream.
Sharp. Panicked.
I looked up.
A girl stood frozen in the middle of the road, her bag fallen beside her. Her eyes were wide, locked on something behind me.
I turned.
A truck.
Too fast.
Too close.
Time slowed.
I didn't think.
My body moved on its own.
So this is how it ends, I thought calmly.
I ran.
I shoved her.
Hard.
She fell backward onto the pavement as the truck's horn blared, the sound tearing through the air.
Pain exploded through my side.
My body lifted.
For a moment, I was weightless.
Then—
Impact.
The world shattered into noise, light, and pain.
I lay on the asphalt, staring up at the night sky.
Funny.
It looked beautiful.
I couldn't move my legs.
My arms felt distant.
I heard people shouting, but it all sounded far away.
The girl was crying.
Someone was screaming for an ambulance.
I felt… calm.
Strangely calm.
So I did one good thing, I thought.
At least one.
I smiled weakly.
No one would miss me.
My parents had been gone for years.
I had no lover.
No one waiting for my messages.
My apartment would stay quiet.
That was okay.
I accepted it.
But then—
A sudden ache pierced my chest.
Not pain.
Regret.
I'll never know how One Piece ends.
The thought hit harder than the truck.
"I wanted to see it…" I whispered.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
How stupid.
Out of all regrets—
That was the one that broke me.
The sounds faded.
The sky darkened.
And then—
Nothing.
Darkness.
Not the gentle kind.
Not sleep.
Not peace.
It was absolute.
No sound.
No sensation.
No sense of time.
I didn't exist.
Then—
A flicker.
Warmth.
A sensation like breathing for the first time.
Pain—but distant.
I gasped.
Air filled my lungs violently.
I sat up.
My heart hammered as I looked around.
A small room.
Wooden walls.
A simple bed beneath me.
A window letting in soft morning light.
No screens.
No wires.
No hum of electricity.
On a small table lay books—old, bound in worn leather. Fresh flowers sat in a clay vase, their scent gentle and real.
This wasn't a hospital.
This wasn't my apartment.
My breathing grew faster.
"Where…" My voice came out soft. Higher.
I was stood up from the floor where i was sleeping before
The floor was cold beneath my feet.
There was a sword leaning against the wall.
White.
Pristine.
A simple sheath, but the blade itself radiated something… familiar.
My heart skipped.
I've seen that sword before.
I stood, unsteady, and took a step.
That was when I noticed it.
A rope.
Hanging from the ceiling.
Tied into a noose.
Beneath it—
A small wooden stool.
My stomach dropped.
"No…"
I touched my neck.
No pain.
No marks.
How is this possible how can my kneck is in this state like Nothing happened
My fingers trembled.
Slowly—very slowly—I turned toward the mirror resting against the far wall.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
A sense of dread coiled in my chest.
I reached the mirror.
And my world ended.
Short, dark blue hair framed a face I knew too well.
Large, dark eyes stared back at me—wide with shock.
A light pink short-sleeved shirt.
Dark maroon shorts.
A slender frame.
I recognized that face instantly.
No.
No One Piece fan wouldn't.
"Kuina…" I whispered.
My knees buckled.
I grabbed the edge of the table to stay standing.
Shimotsuki Kuina.
Zoro's childhood rival.
The girl who was supposed to die by falling down the stairs.
The explanation that never made sense.
My mind raced.
The depression.
The frustration.
The belief that she could never become the world's greatest swordsman because she was a woman.
The rope.
The stool.
"…So that's what happened," I murmured.
Not an accident.
Not stairs.
Despair.
A quiet, lonely decision made in a small room no one was watching.
My chest tightened painfully.
"Oda-sensei…" I said softly. "So that's why."
I looked at my reflection again.
I'm her.
No.
I'm in her.
My hands—small, calloused from training—trembled.
"What do I do now?" I whispered.
My thoughts spiraled.
If Kuina lives—
Zoro's future changes.
His promise changes.
His path changes.
The world changes.
I wasn't meant to be here.
I was just a tired man who hated his job and loved a story too much.
But fate had placed me here anyway.
I looked at the white sword again.
The Wado Ichimonji.
A blade of resolve.
A blade that symbolized an unfulfilled dream.
I clenched my fists.
Kuina was just like me ..she thought she is not enough for her ambitions like she didn't matter in the end she wil left behind no matter how much she struggles
I had lived an entire life believing I didn't matter.
Maybe that was why I was here.
I stepped away from the mirror.
The noose swayed slightly in the air.
I reached up—
And untied it.
The rope fell to the floor.
I picked up the sword.
It felt light.
Right.
"I don't know what will happen," I said quietly. "I don't know how this world will change."
My reflection stared back, no longer broken—just uncertain.
"But I know one thing."
I tightened my grip.
"This time… I won't run from my dream."
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees.
Somewhere far away, fate shifted.
And the world of pirates—
changed forever.