Absolutely.
A Promise Carved in Steel
Silence filled the room.
Not the heavy silence of death—but the thoughtful kind, where the mind refuses to rest.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wooden floor, the events of last night replaying again and again. The rope. The stool. The mirror.
Kuina's despair still lingered in my chest like a faint ache.
I will not let this end the same way.
That was the first decision I made.
Whatever this miracle was—whatever twisted mercy fate had shown me—it would not be wasted. Kuina had dreamed of standing at the very top of the world, sword in hand. And I would carry that dream forward.
I would give her life the respect it deserved.
"I'll become the world's greatest swordsman," I whispered.
The words felt heavy.
But then reality struck.
I exhaled slowly and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
"Oda-sensei was never wrong," I muttered.
I had read One Piece for years. Watched interviews. Read SBS after SBS. Oda never wrote something without reason. If he said that a woman could not become the world's strongest swordsman, then in this world, that was truth.
Not unfairness.
Truth.
"So… how does a girl like me become the world's strongest swordsman?"
I closed my eyes.
Think. Think.
And then—
A name surfaced.
"Sabo."
My eyes snapped open.
Of course.
The timeline wasn't exact in my memory, but I knew the general flow. Around this time, Sabo would leave the Goa Kingdom. He would be attacked by a Celestial Dragon. Saved by Dragon.
And with Dragon—
"Emporio Ivankov."
The Revolutionary Army's queen. The Horm-Horm Fruit. The one person in this world who could make the impossible… possible.
He could change my gender.
Hope surged through me, sharp and electric.
"I just need to meet him."
But reality struck again just as fast.
"How?" I muttered.
I didn't know navigation. I didn't know sailing. And even if I did—how would Kuina's father ever allow his daughter to leave the village alone?
My thoughts tangled.
Then—
Another memory surfaced.
A scene I had watched countless times.
A full moon night.
Zoro training alone.
Children shouting near the shore.
A ship.
A strange man with a huge face.
Ivankov.
My heart raced.
"That's it…"
I didn't need to go to the Goa Kingdom.
He would come here.
For restocking.
I clenched my fist.
"All I have to do… is survive until then."
My body suddenly felt heavy.
Exhaustion hit me all at once.
"Tomorrow," I murmured. "I'll think more tomorrow."
I lay down.
And for the first time since waking in this world—
I slept peacefully.
I woke up before dawn.
Not because of an alarm.
Not because of habit.
But because my body wanted to move.
It felt… natural.
I slid the door open.
The cool morning air brushed against my skin, carrying the scent of earth and rice fields. Shimotsuki Village stretched before me—green and quiet, surrounded by mountains that stood like silent guardians.
This was the East Blue.
Peaceful.
Deceptively so.
I reached for the sword resting beside the wall.
The Wado Ichimonji.
As my fingers wrapped around the hilt, something stirred inside me.
A warmth.
A resonance.
I stepped into the open space near the dojo and drew the blade.
The moment I swung—
My body knew.
My stance settled naturally. My grip adjusted on its own. My feet shifted with practiced ease.
This isn't learning, I realized.
This is remembering.
Each slash flowed into the next. Clean. Efficient. Precise.
The sword sang softly through the air.
My skin tingled, as if something long missing had finally returned.
"Is this… Kuina?" I whispered.
Her strength wasn't exaggerated.
She was strong.
Very strong.
Stronger than most adults in this village.
Sweat formed on my brow as I continued swinging, faster now, sharper. My reflexes felt unnaturally quick. My balance perfect.
Lost limbs reattached.
That was the only way to describe it.
Then—
Footsteps.
I stopped and turned.
Shimotsuki Koushirou stood behind me.
Black hair tied in a long ponytail. Wrinkled face. Calm eyes behind circular glasses. A gray yukata draped loosely over his frame.
"Good morning, Kuina," he said gently.
My chest tightened.
"…Good morning, Father."
The word felt strange.
Warm.
"Come," he said. "Let's have breakfast."
We ate in silence at first.
Rice. Soup. Pickled vegetables.
Simple.
Comforting.
Then Koushirou spoke.
"Kuina," he said quietly. "Do you hate me?"
I froze.
He continued, eyes lowered. "I can feel it. You haven't been happy lately. Is it because I can't give you the Isshin Dojo?"
My hands trembled slightly.
"Father—"
"The dojo master must be the best swordsman," he said calmly. "And I've always known… one day, Zoro will surpass you."
The words were honest. Not cruel.
"But that day is far away," he continued. "So I thought—why not give you a chance?"
I looked up.
"You can challenge me anytime," Koushirou said. "If you defeat me, you become dojo master—until Zoro or someone else defeats you."
His voice softened.
"I don't want my daughter to be sad."
Something broke inside me.
Tears welled up before I could stop them.
I lowered my head, biting my lip.
This warmth.
This concern.
I had never known it in my previous life.
Having a father.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, wiping my eyes.
Then I looked up.
"No, Father."
He blinked.
"I made a promise," I said firmly. "To Zoro."
Koushirou stiffened.
"I will become the world's greatest swordsman."
The room went silent.
"…What?" he asked.
"The dojo is too small for me," I continued. "I'm leaving this village."
Shock flashed across his face.
"Kuina, that's madness!" he snapped. "The world is dangerous even for men! For a girl—it's impossible!"
"I know," I said calmly.
"I'm serious."
His hands clenched.
"You're throwing your life away!"
I stood.
"Once I defeat you—the village's strongest swordsman—I'll leave."
I bowed.
"So fight me at your best… and try to stop me."
I turned and walked out.
Behind me, Koushirou remained frozen.
Something changed in her, he thought.
Her eyes…
They were filled with dreams.
The dojo buzzed with activity later that day.
Students trained diligently.
And then—
The door slammed open.
A small boy with wild green hair stormed in, three swords strapped to his waist.
"Kuina!" he shouted. "Fight me again!"
I froze.
My heart skipped.
It's him.
Roronoa Zoro.
A future legend.
For a moment, I wanted to shake his hand. Talk to him. Tell him how incredible he would become.
But I couldn't.
I straightened.
"Fine," I said.
We took our positions.
The duel was short.
Zoro charged aggressively.
I parried effortlessly.
Disarmed him.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Thirty times.
The dojo fell silent.
Zoro knelt, panting, fists shaking.
"…Still not strong enough," I said softly.
He glared at me, eyes burning.
"Just you wait, Kuina!"
He stormed out.
I smiled faintly.
I felt alive.
But as I looked at the sword in my hands—
I knew.
This world was a walking calamity.
And if I wanted to survive it—
I needed to become stronger.
Much stronger.