World of Pirates

The last thing Aria remembered was walking home from her campus library. She'd been reading manga on her phone while trying to catch up on the latest chapter.

The light turned green. She stepped off the curb, eyes still on her phone. The protagonist was in the middle of a fight, his rubber arm stretched back for a finishing blow.

A car horn blared nearby, but she barely noticed.

"It's not like it's going to hit me and send me to another world," she thought, scrolling to the next panel.

The sound of squealing brakes made her look up. Bright headlights filled her vision. A delivery truck had run the red light, rushing toward her.

Her engineering mind calculated distance and speed in that split second. Not enough time to dodge.

"Wait wait wait, you gotta swerve, bend the cor- Oh sh-"

Then nothing. Just darkness.

Now her cheek pressed against cold dirt. Birds sang above her. Her head throbbed with a headache.

She tried opening her eyes, regretted it, and squeezed them shut as sunlight hit her face. The pain behind her eyes intensified.

She tried again, cracking one eye open.

"What the hell?" she muttered, looking around.

Her mind cycled through possibilities. Had she been moved? Was she concussed? Drugged?

Her black combat boots were ruined, covered in mud and leaf litter. Her skinny jeans had a hole torn in one knee and grass stains everywhere. The Arctic Monkeys shirt was damp with dew.

Her denim jacket remained intact, though too warm for the weather. She shrugged it off, tying it around her waist.

Her hands patted her pockets - nothing. No phone, no wallet, not even her apartment keys.

"Great. Just great." 

She tried to stand, wobbled, and sat back down hard.

"Maybe I'm in a hospital bed, and this is just some weird coma dream," she thought.

The thought cut off as something shifted in her mind.

She scanned the trees. Nothing moved except leaves in the breeze.

Then she felt it - a pull at the back of her mind, someone whispering just out of earshot.

She turned her head. The movement made her dizzy, vision blurring at the edges.

"Hello?" she called.

Getting to her feet took three attempts. Every muscle complained as she grabbed a tree for support.

The world tilted as she took a few steps forward.

But the pull persisted. It wasn't painful, just... there. Drawing her in a specific direction.

She debated for a moment. Following mysterious feelings in strange forests seemed like the start of a horror movie.

"Might as well head towards it. Not like I know where I am," she thought. "Standing here won't solve anything."

She started moving, picking her way through the undergrowth.

"If this is a dream, I'm never walking and reading again," she promised herself.

The pull grew stronger with each step. Her pace quickened despite her caution.

After five minutes of walking, the trees thinned slightly, allowing more light to filter down.

The pull suddenly intensified. She stopped, scanning the area.

Then she saw it.

A flash of purple caught her eye through the ferns. Something unnatural among the greens and browns.

Her legs gave out. She dropped to her knees, not caring about the damp soaking her jeans. The pull in her mind ceased, replaced by a sense of arrival.

In the dirt was the strangest thing she'd ever seen. It looked like an apple but wrong in every way.

The skin was deep purple-black. Spiral patterns twisted across the surface - geometric designs that seemed to move when she wasn't looking directly at them.

"What the hell is this?" she whispered.

Her hand reached out before her brain caught up. A part of her screamed to leave it alone.

She laughed nervously, her fingers brushing the surface. She jerked back. It felt cold.

"OK, definitely not a normal fruit," she muttered.

Despite her misgivings, she picked it up, cradling it in her palms. The patterns seemed to pulse beneath her fingers, a rhythm almost like a heartbeat.

SNAP

A twig broke behind her. She spun around, adrenaline flooding her system.

A kid stood between two trees, staring at her with huge eyes. He hadn't been there seconds ago.

He was about ten, holding a basket full of mushrooms. His knuckles were white around the handle. His stance was poised for flight.

His clothes looked strange - simple, handmade garments that reminded her of historical costumes. His dark hair was tied back with twine. Nothing about him looked modern.

They stared at each other, neither moving. The boy's eyes kept darting to the fruit in her hands.

"Are you a pirate?" he asked, taking a step back.

Of all possible questions, that was the last one she expected. Pirates? Was this kid serious?

A laugh escaped her. "Nah," she said. "Just lost."

He relaxed slightly, studying her. "You sure? You're dressed weird."

Aria glanced down at her torn jeans and muddy boots.

"I'm sure," she replied. "Although I could say the same about your outfit."

The boy looked offended. "These are normal clothes! Everyone dresses like this."

That stopped her short. Everyone? What kind of place was this?

"Where exactly is 'here'?" Aria asked, tucking the fruit into her jacket pocket.

"The forest," he said. Then, seeing her reaction, added, "Near Syrup Village."

"Syrup Village?" 

The boy nodded, relaxing further as he decided she wasn't a threat. "You're definitely not from around here. You look weird. Like foreigners from the Grand Line."

"Grand Line?" she repeated. Something about the term tugged at her memory.

His jaw dropped. "You don't know about the Grand Line?" 

"Everyone knows about it! It's where all the strongest pirates go! They say there's islands in the sky, and sea monsters bigger than ships, and—"

The sound of waves cut through his rambling.

Without thinking, Aria started walking toward the sound. Her mind was racing, trying to process what the boy had said. Pirates. Grand Line. None of it made sense, yet something felt hauntingly familiar.

"Hey, where are you going?" the boy called, jogging to keep up. His mushroom basket bounced against his leg.

"I want to see this village of yours," she said, following the sound of water. Maybe there she'd find answers. Or at least food and proper directions.

"The village is this way!" The boy scrambled over a fallen log. "You're going the long way around."

He moved with the confidence of someone who knew these woods intimately. Despite her confusion, Aria found herself following him.

"I'm Taro. My dad runs the restaurant there - best food in town! What's your name?"

"Aria..." she said, the name feeling strange on her tongue. "Aria Stratos."

"Is that really your name?" he asked, his face skeptical. "Sounds made up."

"Probably?" She shrugged.

"You're weird," Taro declared. Then he grinned, showing a missing front tooth. "But Papa says to help lost people. Come on, he'll give you food. You look hungry."

Her stomach growled on cue. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until food was mentioned.

"Weird is relative," she muttered, following him down the path he'd chosen.

Taro walked beside her. "So where are you from?" he asked.

"Far away," she answered. How could she explain when she didn't understand herself? "Very far away."

His eyes lit up. "Beyond the Grand Line?"

"Something like that."

The forest opened up suddenly. Below them, a dirt path wound down toward a small village nestled against a bay.

Aria stopped, her breath catching.

Traditional buildings with dark wooden walls and sloped roofs lined narrow streets. Fishing boats bobbed in a natural harbor, nets hung out to dry in the sun. Men worked on the docks, hauling catches and repairing equipment.

Smoke rose from chimneys, carrying the smell of cooking food that made her stomach tighten with hunger.

As they walked down the path toward the village, she noticed curious glances from villagers. Some stopped their work to watch them pass.

"Some people are looking at me," Aria said, feeling self-conscious.

"We don't get many strangers," Taro replied. "Especially not dressed like you."

He studied her outfit again. "Where'd you get those? The writing on your shirt looks weird. Like squiggly lines all squished together."

Aria glanced at the Arctic Monkeys logo. To someone who'd never seen English text before, it would look strange indeed.

"Do you get many visitors?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Sometimes. Mostly merchants getting supplies. They bring cool stuff from other islands! And sometimes pirates come through too."

His voice dropped as if sharing a secret. "Not since Captain Kuro."

Aria's foot caught in midair. The name hit her like an electric shock. Kuro. Why did she know that name?

"Kuro?" she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, he was scary! He had these claw things, and moved so fast you couldn't see him! But he's gone now."

Images flashed in her mind. A tall man with glasses. Claws like cat's paws. A deceptive butler.

"When did he attack?" she asked, her heart pounding.

"Kuro was maybe six months ago? And Usopp left not long after that with those Straw Hat pirates. Kaya's still sad about it, but she's going to be a doctor now!"

Usopp. Straw Hat. Kaya. Each name triggered more recognition. This couldn't be happening.

Taro tugged at her sleeve, pulling her toward a building at the edge of the village. "Come on! You look like you've seen a ghost."

A wooden sign creaked above them: "Meshi Restaurant." The characters were unfamiliar, but somehow she could read them perfectly.

The door opened, bringing the smell of food that made her mouth water instantly. Her confusion temporarily took a backseat to hunger.

"Papa!" Taro called as they entered.

The place looked like a typical small fishing village restaurant - wooden tables, a counter with stools, fishing nets decorating the walls. A few early customers looked up from their meals.

"Welcome!" An elderly man looked up from behind the counter, smiling despite her disheveled appearance.

He had deep laugh lines around his eyes and salt-and-pepper hair tied in a short ponytail. 

"Sit anywhere you like. Taro, where've you been? Your mother's been asking."

"Getting mushrooms!" Taro held up his basket proudly. Several mushrooms threatened to spill over the edge.

"And I found her in the forest. She was just standing there looking lost!"

The old man came around the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. 

"Ah. You're in Syrup Village, on Gecko Islands. Want some water? Maybe food? You look hungry."

"I don't have any money," she admitted.

"Bah." He waved his hand dismissively. "Can't let someone go hungry. Taro, help in the kitchen."

"But Papa-"

"Now, boy. Let's show our guest some hospitality."

He disappeared into the kitchen with his protesting son, leaving Aria alone with her thoughts.

She sank into a chair by the window, trying to make sense of everything.

A large bird soared past the window. She watched it glide over the harbor, larger than any seabird she'd seen before.

More birds followed, sending papers fluttering through the air from a notice board nearby.

Wanted posters danced in the breeze, most sailing toward the sea. Criminal faces with enormous bounties briefly visible before the wind carried them away.

But one poster caught on the windowsill next to her table.Her heart stopped when she saw the image.

It was a wanted poster, edges curled but the picture clear. Recently issued, by the look of it.

A boy grinned back at her, his smile wide under a beat-up straw hat. The photo caught him mid-laugh, like getting a bounty on his head was the funniest thing in the world.

The text beneath made her dizzy: "MONKEY D. LUFFY - WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE - 30,000,000 BERRIES"

Her world tilted. Impossible. Completely impossible.

"LUFFY?!"