The first week aboard the Going Merry was chaos wrapped in adventure, and Shiro was enjoying every minute of it.
Luffy had immediately claimed the figurehead as his personal throne, perching on the ram's head like some kind of rubber-limbed gargoyle, announcing he could "see the future" from up there.
"The future looks like... meat!" Luffy would shout dramatically, pointing at nothing.
Zoro would mutter from his spot near the mast, "The future looks like you falling and drowning."
"Nah, Shiro would save me!" Luffy said with absolute confidence.
Shiro, standing at the helm, called out lazily, "I'm off duty between noon and one. Fall during lunch, you're on your own."
Luffy actually looked concerned. "Wait, really?!"
Nami smacked the back of Luffy's head. "He's joking, you idiot. Stop sitting on the figurehead!"
Shiro smiled to himself. This crew is going to give me gray hairs before I'm thirty.
Worth it, though.
On the fifth day at sea, Zoro was in the middle of his morning routine—five hundred sword swings without stopping. Shiro sat cross-legged on the roof of the cabin, watching with his awareness extended, occasionally eating an apple.
"Four-ninety-seven," Shiro called out. "Your shoulder's dropping again."
Zoro didn't stop swinging. "I know."
"Four-ninety-eight. You're compensating for your old wound. Two degrees off-balance."
"I said I know."
"Four-ninety-nine. If Mihawk were here, you'd already be dead three times."
Zoro finished his five hundredth swing and spun around, glaring up at Shiro. "You wanna come down here and say that?!"
Shiro took another bite of his apple, completely unbothered. "Sure."
He hopped down from the roof, landing silently on the deck. "But first, do another hundred."
Zoro's eye twitched. "I just did five hundred."
"And I counted twelve micro-adjustments where you protected your right shoulder unconsciously. That's twelve openings. Against someone like Mihawk—or anyone we'll face in the Grand Line—that's twelve deaths." Shiro's tone was casual, almost lazy, but his purple eyes were sharp. "So. Another hundred. Fix the flaw."
Zoro stared at him for a long moment, jaw tight.
Then he raised his swords again.
Shiro smiled and jumped back onto the roof. "Good. I'll keep count. One."
"I can count myself!"
"Two. Also, your breathing's off."
"SHIRO!"
"Three. And now you're tense. Relax your shoulders."
Nami poked her head out of the navigation cabin, watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement. "You're enjoying this way too much."
Shiro glanced at her, his smile widening. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're a sadist."
"I'm a strategist. There's a difference."
Nami shook her head, but she was smiling too. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Shiro leaned back against the mast, arms behind his head, looking completely at ease. "I sleep great, actually. It's everyone else who has nightmares about training."
Zoro, still swinging, growled, "I'm going to cut you one of these days."
"You can try," Shiro said cheerfully. "Fifty-three, by the way. You're speeding up. Good."
Later that morning, Shiro wandered into the storage room where Usopp had set up his workshop. The sniper was hunched over his bench, goggles on, carefully filling small pellets with various substances.
"Knock knock," Shiro said, leaning against the doorframe.
Usopp didn't look up. "You didn't knock."
"I know. That's the joke."
Usopp finally glanced over, then grinned nervously. "Oh, hey Shiro. Just, uh, working on some new ammunition."
Shiro walked over, hands in his pockets, his awareness casually scanning the various pellets. "Let me guess. Explosive, smoke, flashbang, pepper spray, and—" He picked up one filled with something brown. "—biological warfare."
Usopp snatched it back, face red. "That's a last resort!"
Shiro laughed. "Hey, I'm not judging. It worked, didn't it?"
Usopp relaxed a bit. "Yeah, it did. Those pirates ran so fast—" He started laughing despite himself. "One of them was crying!"
"Psychological warfare is underrated," Shiro said, picking up a pellet filled with black powder. "This one, though—you need to reinforce the casing. See this stress point?" He pointed with his finger. "It'll crack under pressure. If it breaks in your pouch, you'll blow your own leg off."
Usopp's eyes went wide. "Oh crap."
Shiro pulled up a stool. "Here. Let me show you something. You ever heard of layered casings?"
"Layered what?"
For the next hour, they worked together, Shiro explaining structural reinforcement while Usopp absorbed every word like a sponge. At some point, Usopp held up a completed pellet with pride.
"Perfect!" Usopp declared. "The Great Captain Usopp's masterpiece!"
Shiro raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I just teach you how to make that?"
"Yeah, but I put it together! That makes it mine!"
Shiro shook his head, smiling. "Sure, Usopp. We'll call it a collaborative effort."
"Collaboration means I did most of the work, right?"
"Absolutely not."
Usopp deflated. "Worth a shot."
Shiro stood up, stretching. "You're getting better, though. Seriously. Your hands are steadier than most trained engineers I've seen."
Usopp blinked, his eyes getting suspiciously shiny. "You... you really think so?"
Shiro's expression softened. "I don't say things I don't mean." He flicked Usopp's forehead lightly. "You're stronger than you think, Usopp. You just need to stop doubting yourself."
Usopp rubbed his forehead, grinning shakily. "Yeah. Yeah! I'm the great Captain Usopp! Of course I'm strong!"
Shiro walked toward the door, waving lazily over his shoulder. "That's the spirit. Now finish those pellets. We're gonna need them."
That afternoon, Nami gathered everyone on deck with a manic gleam in her eye that immediately set off alarm bells.
"Alright, idiots," she announced. "Navigation lesson. Everyone sit down."
Luffy groaned. "Do we have to?"
"YES."
Zoro crossed his arms. "I can navigate fine."
Nami's smile was terrifying. "Zoro. You got lost going from the galley to the bathroom yesterday."
"That was—"
"It's six steps. Six."
Zoro went silent, face red.
Shiro, leaning against the mast with his arms crossed, grinned. "I've been keeping track. He's gotten lost four times this week."
Zoro's head snapped toward him. "You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I'm on the side of truth," Shiro said smoothly. "And the truth is you have the directional sense of a drunk seagull."
Usopp snorted, then tried to hide it when Zoro glared at him.
Nami spread a map on the deck. "Listen up. The ocean has currents, wind patterns, and weather systems. Ignore them, and you die. Simple."
Luffy raised his hand. "When's lunch?"
Nami's vein bulged. "AFTER THE LESSON!"
Shiro pushed off the mast and walked over, crouching beside the map. "Nami's right. The Grand Line especially—weather changes in minutes. Islands have their own magnetic fields. Normal compasses don't work."
Luffy's eyes widened. "Really?!"
"Really," Shiro confirmed. "You need a Log Pose. It locks onto the magnetic field of the next island and guides you there. Without it, you're sailing blind."
Nami looked at him, surprised. "You know a lot about this."
Shiro shrugged. "I read. A lot."
"Where'd you even find books about the Grand Line in East Blue?"
Shiro's smile was mysterious. "I have my sources."
Nami studied him for a moment, clearly filing that away for later, then turned back to the crew. "Point is—on this ship, I'm in charge of navigation. If I say we change course, we change course. If I say a storm's coming, you listen. Got it?"
Luffy saluted. "Got it! Nami's the boss!"
Zoro muttered, "She's always the boss."
Nami's smile turned sweet. "I heard that."
Shiro stood up, brushing off his pants. "For what it's worth, she's good. Really good. I've been monitoring her course plotting. She hasn't missed a single current or wind shift."
Nami blinked, then her expression softened. "Oh. Uh. Thanks."
"Don't let it go to your head," Shiro added with a grin.
"Too late!" Nami said, puffing out her chest. "I'm officially the best navigator in East Blue!"
Shiro's mental voice echoed in her head. You probably are, actually.
Nami jumped, then glared at him. Stop doing that!
Shiro's mental response was amused. You said I could connect. That means I can talk.
I meant for emergencies!
This is an emergency. Your ego might capsize the ship.
Nami threw a rolled-up map at him. Shiro caught it telekinetically without looking, making it hover in mid-air before floating it back to her.
"Show-off," Nami muttered.
"Always," Shiro agreed.
By the seventh evening, they'd all gathered on deck for dinner—dried fish, bread, and some fruit Usopp had haggled for in Syrup Village.
Luffy sat in the middle, plate piled impossibly high, already eating before anyone else had even sat down.
"Luffy, slow down!" Nami scolded. "You're going to choke!"
Luffy, mouth full, just gave her a thumbs up.
Shiro sat at the edge of the group, eating his portion calmly, his awareness spread in a lazy net around the ship. No threats. Just calm sea and clear sky.
Perfect.
"Oi, Shiro," Zoro called out, holding up a bottle of sake. "You drink?"
Shiro shook his head. "Not really. Dulls the senses."
Zoro snorted. "You sound like an old man."
"I'm twenty-two."
"Exactly. Old."
Shiro smiled. "Says the guy who naps twelve hours a day."
"That's training!"
"That's laziness with good PR."
Usopp burst out laughing, nearly spitting out his food. "He's got you there, Zoro!"
Zoro glared, but there was no real heat in it. "You're all against me."
Nami grinned. "Because you make it so easy."
Luffy, who'd been quiet for a suspicious amount of time, suddenly reached over and snatched a piece of fish off Usopp's plate.
"HEY!" Usopp yelped. "That was mine!"
"Was," Luffy corrected, already chewing.
Usopp lunged for Luffy's plate in retaliation—but his hand stopped mid-air, frozen by invisible force.
Shiro, still eating with one hand, had the other raised lazily. "No food fights. Nami will kill all of us."
Nami nodded approvingly. "Thank you, Shiro. At least someone has sense."
Luffy pouted. "You're no fun."
Shiro released Usopp's hand. "I'm plenty fun. I just don't want to clean fish guts off the deck."
Luffy considered this, then nodded seriously. "Fair."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of waves and distant seagulls filling the air.
Shiro glanced around at them—Luffy stuffing his face, Zoro drinking, Nami calculating something on a napkin, Usopp chattering about his latest invention.
Yeah, Shiro thought, leaning back and looking at the stars. I could get used to this.
No anxiety. No second-guessing.
Just quiet confidence that this—this—was exactly where he needed to be.
The food crisis: Morning of the tenth day
Shiro was on the deck, meditating with his awareness spread wide, when he felt it.
Panic.
Luffy's panic, specifically, which was rare enough to be concerning.
He opened his eyes just as Luffy burst out of the galley, face pale, eyes wide with horror.
"THE FOOD'S GONE!"
Shiro blinked. "What?"
"THE FOOD!" Luffy wailed. "IT'S ALL GONE!"
Nami's voice came from below deck, icy and terrifying. "What. Did. You. Say?"
Shiro stood up, walking toward the galley. "Luffy. We bought two weeks of supplies."
Luffy scratched his head sheepishly. "I got hungry. At night. A lot."
Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. "You ate two weeks of food in ten days."
"...Yes?"
Nami emerged from below deck, and the sheer murderous aura radiating from her made even Shiro take a step back.
"Luffy," she said, voice dangerously calm. "Do you have any idea how much that food cost?"
Luffy laughed nervously. "Uh... a lot?"
"FIFTY THOUSAND BELI!"
"Oh." Luffy paused. "Is that bad?"
Zoro, leaning against the mast, sighed. "We're dead."
Usopp clutched his head. "We're gonna starve! In the middle of the ocean! This is it! The Great Captain Usopp, dead from starvation!"
Shiro held up a hand. "Everyone relax. How much food do we have left?"
Nami checked the galley, her expression grim. "Three days. Four if we ration."
Shiro's awareness spread outward, sweeping across the ocean. They were still days from any major island, but...
There.
A structure. Large. Ornate. Floating.
And dozens of presences inside—including one that felt strong.
Shiro's lips curved into a small smile. "Change course. Ten degrees east."
Nami frowned. "Why?"
Luffy's eyes lit up. "NAMI, GO THAT WAY, I SMELL FOOODD!"
Shiro nodded. "Probably a restaurant."
Luffy's pupils turned into stars. "MEAT!!! LOTS OF FOOD!!!"
He ran to the railing, pointing dramatically. "FULL SPEED AHEAD!"
Nami sighed but adjusted the sails. "Fine. If there's actually a restaurant out there, at least we can eat before we starve."
Zoro just wanted sake.
Usopp was already calculating how much his survival story would be worth.
And Shiro stood at the helm, his awareness locked on the distant structure.
A cook. We need a cook.
And if fate dragged us here...
He smiled.
Then let's see who we find.
As they drew closer, it appeared on the horizon—a massive ship-shaped building, ornate and grand, fashioned to look like a giant fish. Flags and banners fluttered in the wind, and the smell of cooking food drifted across the water.
Luffy nearly jumped off the ship in excitement. "I AM GOING INSIDE!!"
Shiro grabbed the back of his shirt telekinetically, holding him in place. "Wait until we dock, Captain."
"But MEAT!"
"Meat will still be there in five minutes."
Nami guided the Going Merry alongside the restaurant's dock, and the crew disembarked—Luffy practically vibrating with anticipation.
A sign hung above the entrance: BARATIE: THE FLOATING RESTAURANT ON THE SEA.
Shiro's awareness brushed against the building, sensing the chaos inside. Dozens of customers. Busy kitchen staff. And that strong presence again—someone skilled, disciplined, but with a spark of wildness underneath.
Interesting.
Luffy charged toward the entrance. "LET'S GO!"
Shiro followed at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, a small smile on his face.
Alright, fate. Let's see what you've got for us this time.