Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This fic is to those who wish for more Usopp-centric modern day high school AU

00: apparently

6 years ago.

“Eat it, loser!”

An 11-year-old boy found himself face-to-face with a pile of feces. Utter dog shit that came from the ass of Bully #1 who had a fistful of the boy’s curly hair.

It had barely even been the afternoon when he’d ridden his bike past 3rd Street. He’d taken the shortcut to his house on the lower south side, but he soon regretted it when he was kicked off his bike by a bunch of rif-raf. But the 11-year-old knew not to judge given his mother made him steal lost SNAP cards from underneath bus stop benches, and currently the lights at home were turned off with hot water being more of a priority. He also knew not to judge when he was trying to not have his face smooshed into a brown pile of stink.

“If you want my bike,” he said with a slight tremble in his voice. “It- it’s yours.”

Bully #2 (Bully #1’s brother) laughed boisterously. It sounded genuine but taunting.

“You long-nosed fucker!” He spat. “People like you deserve to eat shit because it’s what y’all do best!”

The 11-year-old trembled violently.

“Pl- please,” the young boy pleaded. “If you want my bike–“

Bully #1 laughed. “We don’t want your shitty bike!” He tightened his grip on the boy’s hair. “Eat it!”

He couldn’t. Any normal human being with a mind of their own couldn’t make this possible. How could he ever wash it out of his mouth? A whole bottle of Listerine wouldn’t be able to remove the taste. He almost gagged. Surprisingly he hadn’t done it sooner since his nose was nearly touching the waste.

“Please,” he tried again. “I’ll do anything else but that.” Sweat started to trail down his forehead. One reason being it was the middle of July, and he was trying so hard to not have his nose touch the shit before him. He closed his eyes.

“What about this,” Bully #1 said. “We can grab that little blonde girlfriend of yours and make her watch.” A laugh followed. “Or we can make her eat shit with that silver fucking spoon she had in her mouth when she came out of her mom–“

“No!” The boy yelled. “Leave her out of this! Please!”

The poop started to run down the steps. The smell getting even worse.

Each bully laughed. Almost a thunderous roar of genuine glee? He didn’t know. But this was his problem. Not anyone else’s.

“Then eat it!” Bully #1 said again. “We’ll leave you alone then.”

“Promise?” The boy asked. Blood dripped from his nose, his left eye started to swell from the fist of Bully #3 or Bully #4. He couldn’t remember. It could’ve been the twins. But he was pretty sure they were the ones who took turns ramming their feet into his body.

“Promise,” Bully #1 affirmed. “Hey, one of y’all film this!”

The boy wanted to argue. But he knew he was powerless against this whole family. They didn’t care about doing him in like they’d been doing all summer. He’d even taken a bat to the back of his head. Lord knows how he survived that blow. But he did.

“Come on!” One bully groaned. “Be done with it!”

“Yeah! One bite!”

“It has protein!”

“And corn! Lots of it!”

“I made it just for you! Super, right?!”

Usopp closed his eyes and pinched his nostrils together before leaning down even further.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Tell me the story about the superhero,” a young girl said. Her silver-blonde hair framed her sweet face nicely, and her cheeks held a natural blush. “I haven’t heard that one in a while.”

The 11-year-old boy smiled. “Yeah. Um, where’d I leave off,” he asked more so to himself. He looked down for a minute before holding one of his fingers up. “Oh, yeah, I was at the part where he takes down the lousy cat man and his group of henchmen.” The girl’s eyes light up. “Yes, that’s it!”

The boy smiled. “Okay. Let’s see.”

He sat up in the tree near and across from the girl’s bedroom window. “So, Sniper King didn’t have much help. He usually goes at it alone, y’know?” He tapped his finger on his chin. “But when he declared that he was going to fight the stupid cat man and his stupid henchmen all by himself, a group of superheroes came upon Sniper King’s hideout.”

“So, they know where Sniper Island is?” The boy’s friend asked. Her eyes lit up again in genuine wonder. “How’d they get to it if it’s in one’s heart?”

“You have to close your eyes,” the boy said wholeheartedly. “And you have to take a big breath and jump real high. And you have to flash a pose like this.” He proceeded to put his hands above his head before placing them together as though he was praying. And you have to picture it. And say, ‘Take me to Sniper Island’!”

The girl chuckled lightly. “That’s all it takes, huh?”

The boy nodded confidently. “Yes,” he said. “That’s all there is to it. You have to mean it and say it with all of your heart!”

“What did the other superheroes do once they came across Sniper King’s hideout?” The girl then asked. “Did they attack him?”

The boy shook his head. “No, not at all,” he said. “They simply asked for directions. They were looking for a new spaceship they needed to descend into the sky. They needed it for their next mission.”

The boy shrugged. “But Sniper King couldn’t help them. He told them he couldn’t provide them with one because he was on a mission himself. He needed to save the citizens who inhabited the Sniper Island’s metropolitan.”

He closed his eyes. “The superhero squad was dumbfounded. Because, unlike Sniper King, they had superpowers. Some were even birthed by the immortal gods. And as you know, Sniper King only had a slingshot and a powerful will.”

“Sniper King is better!” The girl said knowingly. “He doesn’t have to rely on superpowers.”

“No he does not,” the boy said with a genuine but haughty smile. “He’s the GOAT after all.”

“That he is.”

Before he could continue with his story there was a knock on the girl’s bedroom door. The girl turned around quickly. “Oh my,” she whispered. “It’s Klahadore.”

The boy nodded. “Ah, yeah,” he said disappointingly. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

The girl turned her attention away from the door. She looked at the boy and nodded sadly. “I’m afraid so.” She sighed and looked down. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

The boy smiled. “Anytime.”

With an adieu, he climbed down the tree as he heard his friend shut the window.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The boy looked down at the plate of food. He frowned. “This again?” He asked.

The woman who sat across from him at the dinner table scoffed. “Yes,” she said adamantly. “Stir fry with shiitake mushrooms.”

“But you said…” the boy trailed off. “I thought we were eating pike.”

The woman glared at the boy. “I never mentioned cooking that.” She picked up the beer bottle that sat next to her plate. She took a swig from the bottle without any fucks to give. “I don’t know where you got that idea.” She slammed the bottle back down onto the table.

The boy sighed. “Yeah. I thought wrong.” He poked one of the mushrooms using a fork.

“Besides,” the woman said. “Those mushrooms were worth a pretty penny at the market. You don’t have a choice but to eat them.”

“But I’m allergic–“

“That’s a lie.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re a good liar,” the woman said with a snort. I’ll give you that.” She shook her head as she picked up the bottle again. It was a clumsy grasp. “But you can’t lie to me.”

The boy gripped the fork in his hand tightly. His grip was so tight his nails dug into his skin. “I’m not lying,” he insisted. “Remember when you made those Italian mushroom appetizers for the potluck at the church? And my face puffed up like a balloon?” He snorted. “The one lady with the ugly scowl would gladly share that story with you.”

The woman rolled her eyes but didn’t utter a word. She picked up the bottle of booze and took an even heartier sip.

“Well, then…” she said bitterly. “Starve.”

The woman then stood up and walked off, but stopped to utter, “I’m not fixing that stupid seasonal fish your dad loved more than me.”

With that, she walked outside on the patio and proceeded to drown herself in booze and cigarillos.

The boy looked at his plate. He could only look and question what he should do next. His stomach grumbled, and despite his resistance towards mushrooms, his mom did make a mean stir fry. Therefore he picked out the mushrooms and placed them in a napkin.

Smiling at the small victory, having removed all the mushrooms, he ate the meal heartedly. His mother added just enough seasoning, and the vegetables were a nice touch. Was that onion?

He laughed as he grabbed another spoonful of the food from the skillet that sat in the middle of the table. Besides, he’d finally gotten the taste of shit out of his mouth. After throwing up for an hour he’d managed to bike to the nearby Save-a-lot and pickpocket a small thing of travel-sized Listerine. He downed that stuff like a fresh tonic after a big fight. Sure, he’d gotten his ass kicked, but it didn’t even hurt that much anyway. And it’s not like he was action-movie-main-lead material.

Full and content, the boy walked out onto the patio to check on his mother. She was sitting on the raggedy chair that leaned against an old coffee table. The backyard used to house hooligans with a penchant for any chemical they could smoke or sniff. It wasn’t the woman’s first choice but it’d been better than the shitty housing on the even more FAR north-side of the city.

The boy silently watched his mother. She hadn’t noticed he’d walked out onto the patio. She continued to stare up at the sky wistfully, as though she saw something he couldn’t. The boy looked up too. He wanted to see what she saw, but he only saw a clear dark blue sky. The only time he saw stars was when he was getting his ass handed to him, or when he told Kaya stories. Her eyes always lit up.

“You know,” his mother said. “If you couldn’t give me the sky, then why’d you even try?”

The boy frowned. Was she talking to him? If so, his mother was being ridiculous. He’d give her and Kaya the sky if it were possible. He hadn’t planned on working for NASA when he grew up, but with enough connections maybe he’d be able to give them both something when he joined the Marines. After all, the marine who’d visited his school told him you could go anywhere in the world as a decorated marine. The boy wanted to be where that anywhere was.

“Yasopp,” the woman said. “Your dreams matter. But did you plan on forgetting about me? And our son? Huh?”

The woman took another swig of her bottle and threw it against the lone rusty tool shed. “You forgot about us, shithead!” She sobbed. “I thought you’d come back or just visit! But I’m here with a lousy debt, and a bottle of cheap liquor. Cazzo!” She stomped on the ground and got on her knees. “Que cazzo!”

The boy wanted to run out into the scarce grass and hug her. The need to open his arms wide was almost an unbearable itch. But would she let him? If he was old enough to work he’d be turning in an application now.  But in this shitty suburb, the only place they accepted 11-year-olds was where the drug dealers and doughboys frequented.

He couldn’t wait to grow up.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was cold.

His chest was stinging, a blazing purple against his tan skin.  It was itchy too. So itchy that it felt like one big wasp sting.

There was nothing but the faint outline of two figures. Cackles, guffaws, snorts, and snickering. So much.

There was something taut and erroneous around the upper part of his neck. Almost like an undersized necklace a few inches too short.

In and out. In and out.

Damn.

He couldn’t breathe.

Until he could.

The plastic grocery bag was ripped from his head quickly and the laughs were louder. In his face loud.

“This fucker’s super,” Bully #1 said. “I’d think after that shit sundae he’d stop showing his ugly face around.”

Bully #2: From his eyes to his nose.

Bully #3: Laughable!

I won’t cry, the boy thought. I won’t cry.

He could feel his bottom lip tremble but he held it in. He held it in with the stretching of his lips. He almost could smile that smile that mirrored the real one he gave his friend.

Bully #1 raised a brow, a smirk still on his lips. He leaned down. “Is this shit-face crying?”

The group of sisters and brothers quieted down. The boy wouldn’t break eye contact. He wouldn’t let these assholes think they’ve broken him. He’s a captain after all. He’ll be a marine one day.

Usopp would be able to beat their asses one day when they’re not looking, and he’d make sure Bully #1 was the first to go. He’d break his nose, and talk shit to his face. He’d let him know how bad his breath reeked of soda and cigs. The bully might as well have eaten shit too. He’d be Usopp’s for the taking.

Yet, the only thing the 11-year-old boy could do was simply look Bully #1 in the eye without blinking. It was fairly easy considering there wasn’t much more they could do to him. One of the older sisters took a few photos, and Bully #2 recorded everything. From Usopp drinking piss to them stripping him down to his underwear. While chanting coward coward coward repeatedly.

Was his nose broken? Maybe. He couldn’t feel anything but that literal ache and burn in the middle of his chest. That big ass wasp sting that a herbal remedy couldn’t seemingly fix. It was a mother fucker.

So, no. The boy was adamant. He wouldn’t cry when he’d taken a bat to the head (apparently it was baseball day for the bullies) and survived. He was already strong as hell, given he’d eaten shit before. How bad could they do him? What was next? The burn was nothing but everything all at once.

Who did they think they were messing with?

The bully squinted his eyes and ran his fingers through his blue buzz cut. He bit at his bottom lip like he was about to snarl. “Let’s take this fucker to the lake!”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Wake up!

C’mon, boy! Wake up!

Slap.

Wake up.

Ah-

Ha-

Ha-

Ha-

Staying alive.

Staying alive.

The boy gasped as he opened his eyes. Puke came out of his mouth as he coughed out whatever crap came up after such a nasty swim.

No. It was a nasty attempted drowning.

That family was trying to kill him.

He sat up quickly with the support of a man whose skin shade was a bit darker than his own. He wore a black tracksuit, and his hairline was slightly receding. Not quite balding, but his forehead was a lot more prominent than a youngster’s. The man also wore shades.

The boy could only stare.

“Are you okay, boy?” The man asked after a few beats. He’d needed to wipe the puke off his lips. “You made quite a risky jump.”

How high had they taken him up that slope? Did they get to the cliff? If the family had made it a group endeavor and just got rid of him then and there, it wouldn’t have taken much for them to drag his body back down the slope (or they could’ve kicked it off the cliff and made life easier). It wasn’t like he was heavy, muscular, or fat. He was a captain, but not someone like an evil and big bad hefty-assed pirate who’d be named Blackbeard, or something of the sort.

His imagination was wild as it was vivid. The boy couldn’t quite keep up with it himself.

Realizing that the man was expecting an answer, the boy simply nodded. He was alive and well…enough.

Of course, he felt a bit cold and hollow, but he wasn’t any worse for wear than he was used to. The bruises, cuts, and broken noses were the norm to his mother. No need to give her an excuse when she assumed he was trouble.

“Let’s get you up,” the older man said. “We’re getting you to a doctor.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “D- doctor?”

The man nodded, his eyes creased in confusion. “Obviously you’ve injured yourself.”

Right.

He injured himself.

It wasn’t like he was being stalked and harassed by an off-kilter evil bunch who called themselves family. It wasn’t like the aching bone spur on his elbow, or the nausea he felt every time he saw a candy bar or can of corn, mattered. Just the other day his mother had remarked, “Usopp, how ‘bout I make Polenta? You can help.” Fortunately, he’d been able to change the subject and told her they could opt for a low-budget meal that consisted of expired sour cream, salsa flavored Potato chips, and a half-full container of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. The Sniper film series still held up well, despite how much Billy Zane was getting up in age. So, no Polenta (whose main ingredient was corn) was had that night.

Usopp stopped walking. The man who was supporting him gave him that same perplexed look. “What’s it?”

“I don’t know you,” he said bluntly. “My dad is a world heavyweight boxing champ.”

The older man didn’t look scared. His facial expression stayed the same. “Oh, he is?”

The boy nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said halfheartedly. “I’ll just have him take me to the hospital.”

He pulled away from the man and started to quickly walk towards the parking lot. Stranger danger was 100 percent real, and he was pretty sure he could treat the injuries himself. But he didn’t make it far since he was already falling onto his knees.

Damn you, Usopp cursed. The pain in his chest came at him all at once. Was it his breastbone? His ribs? He didn’t know. But it made his body scream.

What the hell did they do to him?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“So, they asked him to join their squad?” Kaya asked. As usual, there were stars in her eyes, filled with the same usual wonder. “What’d he say?”

Usopp sat perched on the tree and smiled widely. “He said, “Sorry. No can do. I work alone!”

The light-haired girl gasped. “Why?”

He sobered for a bit. He tapped his finger on his chin and looked up. Why did the great Sniper King decide not to join the team of 3 after they acquired their spaceship from Princess Ayak? Did he like to spend his time alone? After all, his cave was where he made ammo and examined a computer device that monitored the village he served.

“Because he still had some growing to do,” he said with enough confidence. “How can he be a trusty leader when he’d spent all his time alone? He didn’t have very many friends besides Princess Ayak, her servant Ram, and his three apprentices.”

Kaya leaned in and looked up in thought. Her head tilted to the side and her skin glistened in the moonlight.

She was beautiful.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “That’s very self-aware of him. But he should’ve taken the opportunity. Princess Ayak and Ram could keep the apprentices occupied. And Sniper King could show the world what he’s all about.”

Usopp let out a light and genuine chuckle. “Why would he need to do that?” He asked. “He lives to serve the people on Sniper Island to make sure they’re safe.”

“But doesn’t he want to defend the powerless, one shot at a time? Outside the kingdom?”

He didn’t have a response to that.

“Kaya.”

Usopp and Kaya jumped at the appearance of her surrogate father Klahadore. When did he even open the door? He came from out of the shadows as though he’d been there listening the whole time.

The thought of that made Usopp’s skin crawl.

“Oh, hi, Klahadore,” Kaya said feebly. “Usopp just came by to say hi.” She touched the bottom part of her pajama shirt, pulling at a loose string.

Usopp waved politely with a nod. “Hello, Mr. Klahadore. I’ll be going now.”

“Usopp.”

He stopped his descent down the tree.

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t visit anymore.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp woke up to a blood-curdling scream and the sound of broken glass. He sat up in his bed so fast, that the chest injury he acquired about two weeks ago started to flare up.

“Mom?” He said out loud as he threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. The living room was a few feet away from his bedroom.

When he entered he knew he’d never forget what he saw again. It’d always be planted in his mind as one of his greatest failures. Because it was like whiplash and a sudden petrification that soon followed.

How could he ever tell anyone what happened? He was powerless. Powerless. He was a scrawny 11-year-old without a cent to his name. He was still healing from the incident at the lake, and now how the hell could he remedy this?

“Mom!” Usopp yelled. “Get off of her!”

He was held back by a burly man who could kill him with the swat of his hand. The man didn’t say anything. He held him in place and made him watch. Watch what exactly? He’d like to say he didn’t know what he was seeing, but his mother never could slay dragons or shoot beams up into the sky. She wasn’t Superwoman. He knew that. But she wasn’t weak.

So he screamed, squirmed, kicked, and cursed for the man to let him go. But he couldn’t get any of his limbs loose. The man was good and strong. The man on his mom was too strong too. His mother couldn’t fight back because there wasn’t anything to fight when you were powerless.

“Mom!” Usopp screamed. “Motherfucker! Get off of her!” Angry tears. A lot of snot. A lot of spit. He couldn’t get loose.

The man’s pants were pulled down, and his mother’s top was pushed up too far. She was too still.

She wasn’t screaming anymore. She wasn’t fighting it. She was just letting it happen. Like it was easier to let bad shit happen because things could only get worse. What was there to even live for? This bastard who had him in a chokehold should just kill him now.

Usopp wouldn’t stop moving because his mother was in danger. And there was nothing he could freaking do about it.

“Mom!” He screamed. “Please stop! STOP doing that to her!”

The man wouldn’t stop. He even laughed and started saying how she felt with each grunt and moan. It was a game to the bastard. A joke no one wanted to play but him.

A while later, the men were gone, and his mother was passed out. He was sure of it. But he wasn’t any better off since he was still trying to figure out if what had happened happened.

Maybe his mother was asleep and he’d been sleepwalking. Maybe he had a bad dream that felt so real, and he was having a hard time shaking it off. Maybe he’d been sleepwalking and his mother tried to snap him out of it, and he accidentally hit her. That had to be it.

Because stuff like that didn’t happen. Stuff like this didn’t happen. What stuff? The stuff he saw in the dream he had. That's bad stuff.

"Usopp?”

The 11-year-old didn’t pay any mind to the voice. He was still fixated on the ground which seemed even more dirty than before.

Before what?

“Usopp?”

Before the bad–

“Baby.”

Usopp snapped out of it and turned to look at the person who’d been calling his name. He was looking at her, but he wasn’t quite seeing her. The fly tape hanging near the wall was distracting.

His mother smiled. “What are you doing up?”

So, it didn’t happen.

It was a bad dream after all.

They’d gotten the lights turned back on about a week ago.

The only reason her hair was sticky and messy was because of the faulty air condition.

The only reason why her shirt was slightly torn was because of its age. His mother needed to go shopping again. They had enough money for that, right? It didn’t hurt to splurge every once in a while. She’d managed to get him a box set of his favorite cartoon a few weeks ago. It was a belated birthday gift.

Then there was the blood. As his mother smiled at him, crimson slightly smudged on her left tooth. A slight bruise began to form on her right cheekbone.

His mother had always been a little clumsy.

Chapter Text

Act I: Victim

01: i GO

“If you cage the beast, the beast will get angry.” ― Wolverine

6 years later

“How do plants get their nitrogen from the air?”

A 17-year-old boy’s eyes wandered around the room. From the looks of it, most of his peers had already checked out. Two of them were asleep in the back, slobber pooling at their mouths. Another peer was too busy looking at TikTok videos, her phone on her lap.

Therefore, he shrugged and answered.

“They don’t.”

The teacher clicked on the next question on the test review. But when she heard an answer, she fumbled a bit in her posture before clicking back to the last question on the Promethean board. She coughed awkwardly and stood up straighter.

Why the hell was she so surprised?

“Why?” She asked with a bit of edge in her voice. “Mr. Usopp.”

The teen snorted. “Plants do not extract nitrogen directly from the air,” he said easily. “Despite the air's abundance of nitrogen, it exists as molecular nitrogen, with each nitrogen atom triple-bonded to another.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Sure, he was being a bit smug. But the teacher hadn’t been particularly fair either.

“Fucking.” Cough. “Know-it-all.” Cough.

A few giggles followed.

Usopp tapped his finger on his mechanical pencil with 0.5 lead.

“Well,” the teacher said, ignoring the giggles. “You’ve been studying.” She put her nose up high as the board’s screen reflected in the glasses she wore. “Good.” With that, she continued with the review, and Usopp put back on his headphones that’d been sitting around his neck. He looked out the window and watched the light rain sprinkle on the glass.

A while later the bell rang and Usopp was startled awake.

Damn. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t nod off, but it was a review day. And he was more than prepared for the exam. What was so hard about the Nitrogen Cycle?

He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the classroom. But right when he started to head in the direction of the Lit 1 classroom, he was pushed right into the locker. He was pushed so hard the metal rang, and he could hear the bolts that connected the locker components click. The impact was there in his back, but Usopp had learned to withstand the pain in and outside the school hallways.

“Loser!”

Usopp didn’t even close his eyes when spit hit his face. It of course smelled, and some of it did get into his eye. But the perpetrator wasn’t even original.

The 17-year-old straightened up his stance and his eyes followed the guy who not only spit in his face, but the guy had also wrinkled his uniform.

Usopp glanced around the hallway and saw that all eyes were on him. Some of his peers were whispering to each other while giving him the side eye, and others either looked humored or indifferent. His eyes then fell on familiar brown eyes. They were a mixture of concern, sadness, and anger. Soft eyelashes and orange eyeshadow. Beautiful.

Usopp looked away and continued on his way to Literature.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp stood at the vending machine with a vacant look. The bag of Swedish Fish was calling his name but a certain someone would not be so happy at the thought that he cheated. But he couldn’t even have coffee (that didn’t make frickin’ sense). He had to strictly drink water. He growled in frustration and turned around. Right as he did, he bumped into someone whom he could hardly make eye contact with. He swore the person was lost. Why else would they not be at Kendo practice?

//

“What do you mean I’ll have to wear an eye patch?!”

“It’s only temporary! You’ll be back - “

“I can’t practice with one eye.”

“Sir, you should be glad you don’t need a skin graft.”

“Like that makes me feel any better.”

“You’re luckier than most. You survived an acid attack.”

“I- I can’t perform like this!”

\\

Usopp’s hands tightened into fists. People were so evil sometimes. People could work hard, and make people notice. But sometimes the wrong people notice. Was it jealousy? Was it obsession?

Usopp didn’t know.

He stopped and turned back around to look at him. His peer made eye contact. He’d been watching him.

Maybe he was cursing Usopp in his head. Something along the lines of, “You can’t come back until you give a proper apology,” or “You’re no friend by acting the way you did. You meant all of it!” But not every human being was like that. Usopp was sure of it. Not everyone could wake up every day with a firm resolve to better themselves. Who was his peer without his shinai?

Who was Usopp without his knack for words? He didn’t know. To his peer, he was just an ungrateful brat with mood swings. Most notably, he thought of Usopp as a coward. After all, who could take a punch every day and grovel at the very person who gave him one?

He was pretty sure the guy didn’t understand.

Usopp’s mind flashed with images of himself being punched right in the gut. It was one simple move that left him winded. He was on his back, looking up at the ceiling with genuine tears. Bleeding, and smiling, as tears welled up in his eyes. Ones of anger and strife. He remembered thinking he’d die. He put that upon himself. Maybe it was on purpose. It was a landslide.

His best friend had walked away from him forever.

After a while Usopp broke his peer's gaze, having lost the staring contest. The hard ass was always headstrong in this martial arts movie type away. He could make as many enemies as he could allied associates. He wasn’t necessarily charismatic, but his confidence gave him the aura he naturally held. The aura to protect those he deemed worthy.

Usopp remembered the guy’s words he’d said to him once:

Believe it or not, we like you. So, are you coming or not?

Why did he think for one moment that everything would be okay? He remembered the day when he made the person take back their words.

You guys hate me now.

Usopp put a hand to his mouth as his hands shook. He was such a crybaby. But his back hurt a lot more than he expected. That was it. That was why he was overcome with these stupid emotions. Tears ran down his cheeks because of a stupid back pain. Was it back pain? Really? He could laugh, but he knew nothing would come out.

Ignoring the pain, Usopp quickly wiped them away and kept it pushing.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

As soon as the study-hall teacher made his exit for a “coffee run”, they were upon Usopp. He’d been too preoccupied by the words Kendrick Lamar spit out along to a melody that was a thing of its own.

Usopp had tapped his mechanical pencil against the desk and mouthed the words he heard.

A hand grabbed the locks of hair that’d fallen out of his rasta cap. As he was thrown against the wall, the desk crashing down with a loud thump, he could hear loud murmurs fill the teacher-less classroom. No one dared to intervene since the big brute of an asshole named Kumacy loved to pick on those weaker than him.

Usopp could already taste the blood coming from his nose. Why the hell was everything so effing predictable? Regardless, he found himself on his knees. “Bruh!” Usopp said with desperation as Kumacy grabbed the dry-erase marker off the board. “I’ll do your homework for the rest of the year! Pl- please don’t hurt me!” He pleaded obsequiously. He looked up and smiled nervously. His smile won people over, right? The Great Captain Usopp was always ready for his close-up. Even if the close-up was at the bottom of someone’s shoe.

Semantics, semantics.

The teenager towering over him resembled a bear. He was round, with an angular but short nose, and his teeth were a bit ragged in a way that made him animalistic. His fingernails were a bit longer than any guy Usopp knew.

Kumacy snorted. “You suck, Longnose,” he taunted. “Don’t you know that?!”

“Longnose” was silent.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? He thought as he looked up at the big boy. The only thing he remembered doing to Kumacy was giving him a bad test score (Technically the teacher did. She was the one with the grading pen). It wasn’t Usopp’s fault that the big guy trusted his intelligence so much to cheat off of him during the midterm.

Nor was it Usopp’s fault that he, himself, may have flunked the midterm on purpose since he could easily make it up for the final, and Kumacy was an asshole (or a victim of Usopp’s so-called nonchalance).

As though his bully knew what the hell he was thinking, Usopp was grabbed by the collar and thrown haphazardly to the other side of the room.

Now that would leave a mark.

He rubbed at his shoulder, vaguely making a note to ice it before he went to bed.

Before he could even crawl away from Kumacy, one of Kumacy’s followers was already picking him off the ground; flinging him up as though he were a rag doll. He was “Usopp, The Bitch,” apparently. Wait. He already knew that. The whole damn school knew that.

He was pushed towards Kumacy and was made to stay still. Two hands were gripping him on the shoulder to keep him grounded. “I wonder…” Kumacy said. “Is your dick as long as your nose?” At that, the whole class was filled with roars of laughter. He could feel pictures being taken; and videos being recorded. Did TikTok allow this shit? Would this be allowed to go viral? He’d get those 8,000 followers he was always lying about.

Before he could even think about it, words were leaving his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure you’d like to ride it. Obsessed, much?”

That earned him a good punch in the jaw. If this had been his first rodeo, he was pretty sure his front tooth would’ve split. But he only started to bleed again. And before you knew it, he was on the ground ruthlessly getting kicked by Kumacy and his followers.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes.

He tried to cover and protect both his head and face. Usopp wasn’t a stranger to broken ribs either, but he wanted to breathe on his own today. He had a choice in that, right?

In how he’d get his ass kicked?

Craaaash! 

The kicking stopped.

Once the kicking stopped, he heard another crash of desks. Soon followed with, “If y'all lay one more fucking finger on him, I’m going to kick all your asses!”

Usopp slowly sat up, still a little dizzy but noticed the looks of fear on the faces of his peers (or freaking bystanders!). He followed their gazes and his eyes widened on their own. “L- Luffy?” He whispered.

A figure, a young man, stood above Usopp’s assaulter. The boy’s fists were tight and bleeding. An old straw hat sat atop his head, hiding his messy dark hair.

All eyes were on him.

“Got it?!” The straw hat-wearing teen said, gritting his teeth. “And so?” He stopped to shrug at the bully. “You’re dumb as fuck, GET OVER IT!”

Kumacy was holding his nose. He’d growled but didn’t have much of a response. Usopp was pretty sure the big guy was crying. A broken nose could do that to you.

He’d know first-hand.

Luffy leaned in closer to Kumacy. “GOT IT?!” He repeated with an even louder tone. Words as emphasized as that punch, he landed.

The big guy nodded with a grunt.

Usopp swallowed loudly and glanced around the room. Everyone’s eyes were still on Luffy and the ever-commanding presence he exuded. Therefore, Usopp decided to dip out quietly (or as inconspicuously as possible).

He crawled out the door.

Before he could even get about 5 feet away from the door and into the hallway, he was staring at a pair of shiny black derby shoes, which he was pretty sure came from the armed forces surplus store–about 30 minutes away from here.

Usopp sighed before slowly lifting his head.

“Why, Mr. Usopp,” the individual before him said. “Getting into more trouble, are we?”

The 17-year-old met the shades of the school dean, Dr. Spandam.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was maybe 15 minutes after 5 pm. He wasn’t sure, but he’d been in the school for far longer than he liked. Although this hadn’t been his first time at school after hours, he would’ve preferred for it to not be on a Friday. He had plans.

He had the type of plans fit for a captain.

Yet, he was tasked to clean the art room. Which meant cleaning up brushes, sweeping the floor, scrubbing paint away on the table with a magic eraser–so it would look like Picasso hadn’t thrown up in the classroom.

Usopp didn’t know who the art teacher was, but he’d heard he was pretty decent. Very low-key but passionate. If Usopp had time for an extracurricular he probably would’ve opted to take the course.

Regardless, he still took the time to admire some of the hanging artwork done by some of the people in his grade. From a still life of multiple pieces of warped fruit (they looked like a big vine of grapes) to an oceanscape that had a tiny boat peeking out in the corner with a lion head.

They were pretty phenomenal if he was being honest.

“He could have at least let me keep my phone…” Usopp muttered as he used one hand to wipe his sweaty forehead. “I don’t have a lotta time on my hands.” He was almost done dust-mopping when someone walked in. At first, he hadn’t even noticed their presence. He was preoccupied with one corner of the room where the trashcan was full. “Gotta take that out,” he murmured.

“I forgot to do that one,” a voice said. “Lemme go get a bag.”

Usopp jumped. “What the fuck!” He cursed a bit too loudly. He turned around and frowned. “I thought he left,” he murmured. “He usually has MMA– “

Luffy entered the classroom with a big black trash bag. He wore a neutral look that was different from the familiar grin he flashed to anyone who didn’t piss him off. He was as much selective as open with those who crossed his path.

He was honest.

He was a wave rider.

Luffy made his way over to the trashcan and Usopp stepped back to stay out of his way.

Leave already, he thought bitterly. I’m the reason why you’re here anyway.

Usopp turned around to finish the dry mopping. Kumacy was supposed to wet mop each floor in each room in the entire school afterward. Along with wet mopping, Kumacy was also assigned to vacuum each room that had carpeting and rugs.

Usopp leaned the dust mop against the wall so he could grab the broom that sat at the other side of the room.

“Here,” Luffy said holding the broom handle out to him.

Usopp nodded with a quiet “thanks”.

Once he was done getting the crap into the dustpan, it was taken out of his hand. “You can dump it in there,” Luffy said indifferently, emptying the dustpan into the trashcan. Usopp nodded and thanked him again.

Silently he grabbed the dry-mop and Luffy grabbed the broom. They then walked out of the classroom and to the janitor’s closet.

“You have training at this time, right?” Usopp asked. Mr. Rayleigh’s gonna make you work overtime? He wanted to add, but he remembered they weren’t friends. They were strangers. Or at the very least, acquaintances.

“Yeah,” Luffy replied. “But I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

Usopp raised a brow but nodded as though he understood why. Maybe Luffy was promised a whole box of sausage pizza to himself, or a big Ziploc bag of ribs (don’t ask). Luffy actually had friends to hang out with on a Friday night.

There was still an awkward silence.

Usopp didn’t care. He was eager to walk to the plant nursery where he worked. First, he needed to grab his phone from the office.

Later, once he walked into the sunlight, he relaxed his shoulders.

His phone was now with him, Usopp could leave now, and get away from everything. He could get away from the shitty high school that he went to; even though half the time he was hardly surviving. Maybe he should get a GED.

He knew first-hand that that had worked for some people.

“Work?” Luffy said he turned to walk in the opposite direction of where Usopp was going.

Did he read his mind?

“With the plants?”

Usopp relaxed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Tell Mr. Heracles I said hi.” Luffy then walked away.

Usopp could barely see a trio of people at the top of the hill leading up to the parking lot. Yeah, he murmured to himself. Expected.

He turned back around and walked to work.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Embracing the rain, I find strength to weather life's storms. 💪🌧️ #SharpshooterShadow #DenDenNexus”

Chapter Text

02: dagenham dream

“[S]ome men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

 

— Alfred Pennyworth

Usopp stared at the pot of daisies.

They hadn’t wilted. But they were missing something. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly because while the flowers bloomed fine, the colors were muted; the limbs were not as strong as he’d like.

He trimmed around the stalks and watered the base.

“Usopp,” a stern voice said. “Toque.” His hat.

The teen rolled his eyes. “But it might rain again,” he tried. “My hair doesn’t do well in wet weather.”

He heard a chuckle. “That’s jokes–dus kno?” I’m well aware. I used to wear my hair like yours. That was what the boss meant.

Usopp took the tam off his head and stuck it in his pocket. “It’s off now,” he said. “Happy?”

“Thank you.”

Usopp continued to trim the flowers. Every once in a while he’d touch the orange headphones around his neck, but he wouldn’t put them on his head. He didn’t want to get scolded again. Especially when he liked to not be bothered when he was listening to his favorite music artists.

When he was done taking care of the daisies he put the pot near the window. Maybe he was doing the daisies a disservice given he wasn’t looking for any advice on how to take better care of them. But he was simply playing it by ear. He’d worked in this plant nursery for 5 and a half years, he knew a lot to have his go at taking care of some flowers. Speaking of which, he needed to examine and inspect the newly bloomed plants.

He walked out of the checkout area, into the greenhouse area. His boss nodded at him with a satisfied smile. Usopp looked away and rolled his eyes once he was out of his boss’ sight.

He finally put on his headphones, and gardening gloves, and picked up the plant sprayer.

Some time passed and he was looking for the misplaced weed killer when he heard a familiar voice. He paused the music.

No, it wasn’t the boss, even though he was talking too. It was a female voice.

It was, as expected, polite and jovial. But there was always a hint of confidence in there that he admired. You could never tell this person no unless you meant it.

Usopp smiled.

“How’s Nojiko?” The boss asked. “Did she go back home?”

“Yes,” the familiar voice replied in disappointment. “She’s studying for her GMAT. She also needed to take care of our uncle.”

“Ah,” the boss said sympathetically. “I know she’ll do well. Along with your uncle.”

“Thank you, Mr. Heracles.”

“You have a safe evening,” The boss, Heracles, replied. “Nami’n.”

Once he heard the door shut, Usopp walked into the check-out area. “Do you happen to know where the weed killer is?” He asked. “I didn’t see it out there.”

The older man nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It’s in the box in the storage room. Delivery man came earlier.”

Usopp nodded. “Thanks.” He turned around to walk in the direction of the storage room that was located in the very back, next to the restroom.

“Usopp,” Heracles said in a knowing tone. The boy stopped walking. “She asked how you were doing.”

“Really?” Usopp was trying for indifference. But sometimes he wasn’t good at fooling himself. “I’m gonna go and get the weed–“

“You still haven’t told me much of what happened. But they all still care about you. Your Eclipsian (European) friend’s dad, the restaurant owner, even asked about you when he came by a few weeks ago for some tomato seeds.”

Usopp shrugged. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Shrugging. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “What’s done is done.” He could hear Heracles’ frown.

After a beat, Usopp walked away.

\\

“What the hell is going on, Usopp?!”

“Oi, what’s your problem? This isn’t like you.”

“Is it about the money? You don’t have to pay me back. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“If you’re having a shitty day, then just say so.”

“Usopp, a- are you feeling okay?”

//

Later at home.

“You know,” Heracles said. “You could be better.”

Usopp shrugged and took a sip of the water next to his plate of food. “I made it to the next level, that’s what I wanted.” He picked up his fork. “I’m done. I’m good.”

“But why stop there, Usoppun?” Heracles asked as he handed him a bowl of grapes. “You let those kids beat you. I’m not saying to stoop low. But you know what you’re best at.”

Usopp shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m graduating in a little while anyway.”

“Conscription,” Heracles reminded. “Despite what you think. I know you’re not a coward.”

Usopp set his knife and fork down. Suddenly, the stewed potatoes didn’t taste good. He swallowed the rest of the food left in his mouth, it felt like clay going down his throat.

He sat back in the chair and rubbed both his temples. “Then what was that back then?” He asked before closing his eyes. “When you told me that stuff about fear. It was something like: ‘The right people will never shake?’”

“No,” Heracles said. “It’s, ‘The righteous will never be shaken.’”

That was as true as the sun up at midnight.

“Usoppun,” the older man said a little softer. “I’m not disappointed in you. If all, I admire the message. But you can’t keep doing that to yourself.”

Usopp’s hands tightened around the silverware he was holding. He could still feel the weight of the punch. He failed to move fast enough. Heracles had witnessed that firsthand. What did he mean by “what you’re best at?”.

Usopp opened his eyes and stood up. “May I be excused?”

Heracles nodded. “Don’t stay up too late, Usopp.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Music played from the speakers.

It was turned down very low. The song playing was by a Frostlandian (North American) rap group, Luniz. Usopp wasn’t familiar with the artists’ names because it was a playlist he’d found online. It was different from the typical Marilandian music which only consisted of tropical beats and futuristic synthesizers.

“Bullseye!” Usopp whispered loudly as he hit the bullseye. “Yeah!”

He threw the next dart.

As expected, it landed on the center flawlessly.

He looked down at the four remaining darts lying in his hand. He could throw those easily.

He glanced at the clock on his computer.

It was maybe 10 minutes before midnight, and he didn’t have it in himself to go to sleep. With Heracles’ food for thought and a queasy stomach, he couldn’t close his eyes and let sleep overtake him. So, he’d got out of bed and started playing with darts. He only missed one shot but that was because he got distracted by a loud screech of tires heard near the townhome. Someone was doing donuts in the parking lot of an elementary school that was located across the street.

Very quickly and all at once he threw all remaining darts at the board. Bullseye.

“Hell, yeah,” he whispered. “I’m the fucking Sniper King.”

He then let out a dry snort and set the darts on the nearby desk. He glanced at the chemistry textbook next to his computer’s keyboard.

Oh, right.

He needed to study.

He begrudgingly grabbed the thick green textbook and opened it. Flipping through the pages he stopped at a part of the book that had nothing to do with the Nitrogen Cycle. “Fun chemistry projects for outside the classroom,” he muttered. “Hmm..let’s see.”

For the next hour or so Usopp found himself in the kitchen. Heracles’ bedroom was upstairs, so there was no need to worry about getting caught staying up. It’s not like the older man knew about a chemistry exam, and was a pretty heavy sleeper. He was nearing his 50s.

“So, I have potassium nitrate,” Usopp muttered. “But where can I get some damn black powder?” He scratched his forehead frustratedly. “Dammit.” It wasn’t like he collected rifles in his downtime.

His eyes roamed around the kitchen before landing on a sack of flour. “Hmm…” Usopp grabbed the sack and held it up. “This will do.” The textbook said so.

He took out a few plastic cups and set them on the dinner table. He grabbed a towel from the dryer and placed it underneath the cups. He put on a brand new pair of rubber gloves he found underneath the kitchen sink, and an old pair of Blu Blocker sunglasses Heracles’ had discarded (Usopp was going to use them for goggles). He acquired a kitchen knife, tape, and a bag of paper toy caps he’d bought a while back on a whim.

He then proceeded to measure out the powders and followed the remaining steps from the textbook.

“This should be about it,” he said after an hour had passed and a lot of progress was made. He stopped stirring the mixture. “Now I just need to transfer the casing.”

Pouring the mixture into the cardboard tube, he glanced at the clock. It was going on about 2.

No biggie. He still had a bit more time to work. He took out three more toilet rolls and cut them into quarters. The smaller the better.

Soon enough, the project was complete.

Usopp glanced at the clock once more, it clicking away. He saw that it was going on 4. He sighed in disappointment. “Dammit.” He could already hear a door open and shut. The sound coming from upstairs.

Very quickly he put the finished products from the project into a container and stuck it in the freezer behind Heracles’ favorite yogurt. Next, Usopp cleaned up the space. He swept the floor where the powder residue fell, and he used some water and soap to wipe away the remaining stains from the ingredients. He looked at the skillet he used. It was a cast-iron skillet.

He hid it in the pantry behind the old dog food.

“Up already?”

The 17-year-old nearly jumped out of his skin. “Ah!” He screeched. “You’re up earlier than usual too!”

Heracles, clad in a pair of black sweats and a black wife beater, gave him a look that said, “Don’t raise your voice at me. Lower it a couple notches.”

You scared me too.

Wordlessly, the 40-something-year-old man walked over to the fridge. He opened it and took out an egg carton. “Here,” he said to Usopp as he set them down on the kitchen table. “Boil 8 of these. And get the coffee started.”

Usopp nodded. “Yessir.”

Heracles smiled. “Good.”

After the man gave him a pat on the shoulder and went back upstairs for a shower, Usopp let out a big breath. He’d been holding it for a while. He then looked up at the clock and glared. “Stupid project,” he muttered. “It’s all your fault.” He didn’t know how he was going to get through the day without passing out, but he quite possibly had the endurance. It wasn’t like he had no experience in pulling all-nighters and staying up half past 7 am to watch his favorite season of the classic live-action Sniper King series (season 2 is always the best). Perhaps he decided to give the project a try because he needed it for a successful escape.

An escape from what?

From a figh–

“Good morning,” Usopp murmured to himself, as he quickly rubbed his eyes before picking up the large carton of eggs.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Den Den Nexus (@SharpshooterShadow): "Amidst daisy dilemmas and late-night chemistry projects, I navigate life's challenges with a head high. Boss, friends, and a touch of mystery – the greenhouse tales continue. #HeadHigh #GreenhouseChronicles 🌼🔬 "

 

 

 

Chapter Text

03: airplane mode

“What happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object?’ They surrender.”

—Superman

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp picked at his tray of “food.”

He listened to some music through his headphones and scrolled through his phone. “Sniper King: Fights Back,” he said with a faint smile. “It’s playing in theaters?”

He searched for the movie.

After the search page finished loading he selected the option to buy tickets from the nearby movie theater. He smiled again and looked at his tray of food. He picked up his fork and tried the mystery meat.

Nope. It still tasted like crap.

He spit it out in a napkin.

He was going to make another trek to the fish eatery nearby. They cleaned their fish, and it was the kind of restaurant where there was only one man in the kitchen. It deserved its 5-star rating. The restaurant had a mom-and-pop kind of thing going on.

“Did you hear what happened to Kumacy?”

Usopp had his music turned off temporarily, so he was able to pick up on the gossip nearby. Kumacy being name-dropped of course was something to make him curious.

Was Kumacy out to beat him up again? After all, last Friday, the big guy had to stay after school for about 4 hours (Usopp only had to stay for 2). The janitor got to go home early that day. And in all fairness, Usopp wasn’t happy either. Dr. Spandam wasn’t a typical disciplinarian.

Rumor had it that the dean used to work at a prison. It still didn’t overshadow the plastic surgery rumors though. Damn near unrecognizable from his Marine days.

“…He’s suspended,” one girl whispered to her friends. “But not only that, he’s currently staying at the hospital.”

“But someone else said that he was in the ICU,” another person followed with. “Apparently he was jumped.”

“Someone jumping Kumacy?” A snort. “That doesn’t seem likely. He’s a walking giant almost.”

“If Strawhat could punch the shit out of him. I’m pretty sure Kumacy can still get his ass handed to him.”

“I know…It’s just that to end up in the ICU means that this person was insanely strong.”

“But Strawhat–“

“You sound like that one bitch who’s obsessed with him.” An exasperated sigh. “I’m not saying he’s guilty.”

Usopp’s eyes widened. “What the fuck?” He whispered, his hand gripping the table. It was absolute whiplash. “He’s being questioned?”

If there’s anything he knew about his classmate, it was that Luffy was never afraid to fight a person head-on–in broad fucking daylight. That was why he was suspended 2 times last year, with ten detentions, and 2 concussions. Not like Usopp would know. They weren’t friends.

So, why would Luffy jump Kumacy? It had to have happened in the middle of the night or something. But why in the middle of the night?

It doesn’t matter, Usopp.

It’s not your problem.

Damn, right. It wasn’t his problem because Luffy was Luffy. That dude could get out of anything. Besides, his grandpa was a police officer. Everyone knew that.

\\

“Who are you?!”

“I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

“Is this kid serious?!”

“He ain’t! If he knew what was best for him he–“

//

Thwack!

Usopp shot up in his seat and yelled, “It wasn’t me!”

A roar of laughter from his peers filled the room.

His cheeks reddened.

Shit. He’d fallen asleep.

The chemistry teacher had used her pointer stick to hit his desk; to wake him up. This time she was tapping it against the desk. Her lips were pursed and tight, her green hair ridiculously greasy. Her eyes were in slits.

She didn’t look impressed. (“More like furious”, if she’d asked for Usopp’s input).

“Yes,” she said. “It was you.” She slapped the desk again. “You fell asleep!”

Usopp jumped. He wanted to roll his eyes and yell back in her face, “No shit, Sherlock! I’m fucking tired! Your lecturing skills suck!” Heck, he would’ve spit in her face like Kumacy did him.

But Usopp knew she was setting him up. Given he was one of the only people in this entire grade who was maintaining an A in her class. In passing, he’d heard his peers groan and complain about the “nasty red pen marks” and Ds she liked to hand out to everyone.

She wanted him taken down a few notches.

“I’m sorry,” Usopp said instead. “It won’t happen again.”

The teacher nodded. Satisfied. “Next time I’m sending you to Spandam.”

His peers snickered and oo'd at her remark just to spite him. And he felt it. He looked at the mechanical pencil on his desk and glanced back at the teacher. She shot him a sideways look that practically said, “Don’t try me.”

Usopp sat up in his chair and looked at the Promethean board. It was a power point of a preview. A preview of the next unit they’d be going over.

About 45 minutes ago the test had been administered. Of course, it all came easy to the 17-year-old. He’d barely studied, but as he’d discovered a while ago, Chemistry was really beautiful when you took the time to understand what it was all about.

“Fireworks and Pyrotechnics,” he whispered in a curious tone as he read what was on the slide. “Introduction.”

The teacher moved on to the next slide. “So, when the colors in the fireworks spread Barium results in vibrant green hues, strontium produces rich red tones, copper generates shades of blue, and sodium produces a yellow glow.”

The teacher suddenly smiled. “At the end of this unit, we’re going to the Celestial Burst Carnival over in Loguetown.”

Mostly everyone in the class let out sounds of excitement.

Usopp could already hear a few girls in front of him whispering about who they were going to ask out on a date when the time came.

He raised his hand.

“Yes, Usopp?” The teacher said.

“Is it mandatory to attend the festival?” He asked. Please say no. Please say no.

The teacher frowned. “Yes,” she said. “School will be closed that day because of the festival.”

Fuck.

Usopp nodded. “Okay.”

“Is there a problem?” She asked. “Is there a reason why you can’t come?”

All eyes were on him.

Usopp wanted to say, “What if there is? Either way, I wouldn’t tell you!”

Instead, he gave a nervous smile and shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he said. “I was just curious.”

The teacher looked at him for a long time before she turned her attention to the board.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Hold him!”

“The longer you struggle, the more it’ll hurt!”

“Stop fucking moving!”

Flush.

Usopp breathed heavily. His nose was burning, and there was something stuck in the back of his throat. Or at least it felt like it. He felt like sneezing, but he knew it’d hurt. That shit always hurt. It was like a scabbing injury on your knee that you couldn’t help but itch and scratch at until it bled an orange-red.

“How’s that for a loser?!” One of the perpetrators said. “Always a fucking piece of shit.” His head went under again.

A moment later he was gasping and it was that feeling again. The sneezing itch. He was practically drowning. It was still always so new. The injuries were old, but certain inflictions always seemed brand new. The only thing he could show when it came to anything like the one he was in now–was that he could never get grossed out when it came to someone sticking your head into the toilet. It was so much better than what he’d gotten before. The seat of a toilet was a headrest. Lockers were upright beds (or coffins).

“If you want me to do your homework, I can!” He yelled quickly. It almost sounded like gibberish. “You want a good 80%? That’s the most realistic option!” Can’t risk being a person of interest, huh?

He was slapped on the back of the head.

It didn’t hurt.

“You better not mess with me!” He bluffed. “I’m an MMA champion!”

His head was back in the toilet.

And this time they had him stay inside the toilet even longer. He made bubbles as he held his breath in. He knew his face was turning red.

Before he could drown, he was released. The grip was no longer on the collar of his uniform.

He sat up and gasped for air. He was coughing terribly and his chest started to burn. It always flared up when he was in situations like this.

He needed to throw up.

“Hey.”

Usopp held it in.

Not in front of him, he thought. Definitely not in front of him.

“Usopp.”

Maybe he’ll go away. He had girls to chase. Shitty grades to raise.

“Usopp.”

Eventually, he turned around and came face to face with a blonde who had a bit of his hair hiding his right eye. A lollipop was between his lips, the stick poking out. His uniform was practically brand new, although Usopp knew it’d been the same one every student picked up at the end of the break before school commenced.

Usopp glanced down at the three unconscious bodies lying on the ground. The guiltiest of the three had a footprint on his face.

“Are you okay?” The blond asked.

Usopp nodded without making eye contact. “Yeah. Peachy keen.”

He snorted. “Let’s get out of here before Spandam shows up,” he said. “We’re going to the restaurant.”

Usopp finally looked at him. “But school’s still in session.”

The blond rolled his eyes. He took the finished lollipop out of his mouth and threw it behind him. It landed on one of the bullies. “Who cares?” He turned to head to the door. “Let’s get out of this shitty joint.”

Usopp stood up, and with a bit of hesitation nodded and followed.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Den Den Nexus (@SharpshooterShadow): "Daisies, dilemmas, and dartboard victories – life's a mix of petals and projects. Late nights, early mornings, and the echoes of a Sniper King's journey. Embracing the challenge with a head high. #GreenhouseGrit #SniperKingSaga 🌼🎯 "

Chapter Text

04: 100

“Just because someone stumbles and loses their path, doesn’t mean they can’t be saved.”

– Professor Charles Xavier

｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ★, ｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ☆

“Sanji!” A man with a gruff voice yelled over the hustle and bustle. “Get your ass over here!”

Usopp nearly jumped out of his skin. Damn, Zeff was always so loud and intimidating. But maybe the Navy could do that to you. Considering the man lost a leg on a mission and had the kind of temper related to a pit bull.

“Dammit,” the peer said. He looked at Usopp. “I didn’t think he’d make me work this early.” Usopp would’ve smiled but he didn’t think that was very fitting. Given how things were. Regardless, Sanji still gave him an endearing smile that was as real as the care he took in cooking a seafood dish–or anything really, like skirt chasing. “I’ll be right back.”

Usopp nodded.

Old standards blared out of the small speaker sitting next to the counter where people picked up their carry-outs. It sounded like something he’d hear in a perfume commercial or one of those corny musicals that aired on TV once a year around the holidays. It strangely enough made him think of a place he never knew.

He shakily opened the wrapper to his straw and stuck the straw in his soft drink. It had caffeine in it. He tapped his foot restlessly on the floor.

“Hey.”

Usopp looked up. It was a man who was maybe in his 30s. He had an elaborate goatee and yellow teeth. He wore a hachimaki. He smiled knowingly.

The teen boy smiled back. “Mr. Patty,” he said.

The buff man handed him extra packets of tartar sauce. “I know these are your favorite,” he said. “Too bad Zeff won’t put the recipe out on the market.”

Usopp nodded. “Thank you.”

The older man began to walk away but stopped short. “We haven’t seen you in a while,” he said. “You good?”

Usopp nodded with a smile. “Yeah. Just been busy.”

Patty laughed. “I guess Luffy is starting to rub off on the others,” he joked. “I haven’t seen Sanji crack open a book in a while. I wish he applied himself like you do.” With a wave and a laugh, Patty walked back to the kitchen. Usopp’s smile dropped, and he was back to staring at his soda.

He felt his phone vibrate.

Usopp picked up the Android device and unlocked it. The notification was a message. It read:

Stop by the grocery store on your way back. We’re low on apples, water, and yogurt. Call me when you’re at the store. I might need to add more to the list. See ya in a couple of days. Remember your curfew.

Usopp rolled his eyes and laughed at the same time. His doofus of an uncle was such an old geezer. What was he going to do once Usopp moved out? Of course, this wasn’t something that needed to be discussed now. But the future was always so near. What did he even want to do after school? There was of course conscription. That had to be in the cards regardless.

You wanted to join the Marines, Usopp, a voice whispered inside of his head. You wanted to be a captain. And you wanted to help your mother–

“Usopp?”

Shit. Why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking so damn hard? At this point, he’d probably be just bones and no skin, since he’d been nearly jumping out of it for a while now. Why are you so jumpy? Get your head out of your ass.

A hand shook his shoulder. He looked at the blonde who was once- who was once a- who was once a fr-

“Here,” Sanji said. “It’s on the house.”

Usopp looked at the plate held out to him. It was fried pike served with a large fry. 

“Oh–“

“Here,” Sanji insisted. “Eat.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know how I feel about wasting food. And how would it look if I invited you to the restaurant and I didn’t give you anything to eat? What do you take me for? A shitty cook?”

Usopp raised both of his eyebrows. “You cooked this?”

Sanji scoffed. “Are you being for real?”

Wordlessly he took the plate from his friend. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I appreciate it.”

Sanji sat down across from him. He took a toothpick from the little box next to the paper towel dispenser. He stuck it in his mouth and started to chew.

Usopp frowned.

The cook met his eye. “What?” He asked. “Zeff said he’ll beat my ass into submission if he catches me smoking again.”

Usopp didn’t say anything and simply began eating his food. The quicker he finished his plate the quicker he could get the frack up out of here. Sanji’s inquisitive looks and the incoming crowd were making the food on his plate look like slimy snails. His stomach wouldn’t leave him alone.

Despite his silence, Sanji continued speaking anyway. “I’m thinking about joining the soccer club that’s located outside Saboady’s capital. But Zeff tells me it’s a pretty bad area. It’s near that one suburb.”

Usopp stopped chewing.

“The woman who burned her house down–“

“Sanji!” A cheerful voice echoed throughout the establishment. The bell from the door rang as it opened and shut. Usopp and Sanji turned their attention to where the voice was heard.

A brunette walked towards the table. Her mousy brown hair bounced on her shoulder, curly and full. She was putting on a worker’s apron, and she was tying her hair into a loose ponytail. She smiled widely. “Sanji!” She shouted once more. Still as friendly as ever. “You told me you weren’t coming in today!”

Sanji nearly swallowed his toothpick.

Usopp looked down at his plate which was just full of fries now. He went back to eating and willed himself to swallow the grease that the fries were coated in. Of course, the Baratie menu was nothing but damn-near gourmet (it was even featured on a popular show on the cooking channel). But he had gotten his head forced into a toilet multiple times a few hours ago, and the nausea hadn’t subsided as friendly as he liked. Don’t forget that it took him a while to wash the toilet bowl smell off of himself with a few wipes. He was definitely showering when he got home.

“I thought you’d need a ride to work,” the young woman said. She now sat beside the blonde teen. “Didn’t Zeff take away your keys?”

Sanji wasn’t making eye contact with her at all. He simply shrugged. “He said I could only drive to school and back.”

“Good!” His co-worker(?) gushed. “Then wanna hang out after?”

“It’s a school night,” Sanji said. “Zeff probably–“

“I checked with him,” the girl said. “And my mom-“

“Aw, shit!” Usopp cursed. “Sanji, didn’t you say you were gonna help me get my calc grade up? Chopper said he has to help Dr. Kureha, and my unc’s gonna get so pissed if I don’t raise it.”

Usopp knew his acting was a lot more forced than he liked. But it’d do. Besides, the young woman’s shoulders slumped immediately at hearing Usopp’s words. Her mouth formed a pout.

Sanji looked so confused. But Usopp stared back, thinking, Sanji, I’m saving your ass! Play along, dammit!

Soon enough it clicked, and Sanji perked up. “Oh, shit!” Sanji exclaimed. “Chops did mention that Dr. Kureha was gonna need him to help out at the outreach center tonight!”

Usopp slumped his shoulders. “I’m struggling with those stupid derivatives.”

The young woman beside Sanji perked up. “I’m good with deriv–“

Usopp looked down at his phone and acted like he got a message. “Oh, shit!” He cursed again. “It’s my uncle! See ya tonight Sanji.” Usopp quickly grabbed the last of the fries on his plate and exited the restaurant.

｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ★, ｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ☆

Usopp pushed the notebook forward and rested his head on the desk. “I don’t want to read another Aesop tale,” he said. “I swear Kuma wants me to die.”

He sighed and looked at the bag of Jolly Ranchers that were a couple of inches away from him. This was his binge eating hour, but he didn’t feel like eating. Currently, Heracles was away because of a high school reunion. The island he was from was about 8 hours away from Marilandia via plane.

Despite Usopp’s need to be alone, he couldn’t help but think of how this was different. He could throw darts, or even stay up as late as he wanted. But that didn’t sound as interesting as the Aesop tales. Hardy har har.

“I brought grilled chicken.”

Usopp literally fell out of his chair.

He heard the familiar laugh of someone he didn’t expect to see tonight. And honestly, it was…he didn’t know how to put it into words. Regardless, he didn’t want company.

“What the fuck, Sanji?” He said. “How’d you get in here?”

His peer shrugged and set the bag of food down on the desk. “I’m here to help you with Calculus.”

“Huh?”

“You said you were failing.”

Usopp closed his eyes and face-palmed. When did Sanji turn his lie into a truth? Sure he had a C in math right now, but he was going to bring it up on his own. How the fuck could Sanji possibly know he was a rice kernel away from failing? Was he that bad of a liar? When Usopp was trying to save his ass, Sanji just assumed he was failing?

What a prick-asshole.

Nonetheless, Usopp grabbed the blue Calculus book and handed it to Sanji. “I haven’t opened it in a while,” he admitted. “I’ve been relying on the internet.”

Sanji made a sound of disbelief (or disappointment). “You’re just as bad as Marimo when it comes to freakin’ Geography.” The peer sat down on the floor and motioned for Usopp to join him. “You know what the derivative of 1 is, right?”

Usopp shrugged. “It’s 2?”

Sanji rolled his eyes. “0, moron.”

Usopp blushed. I’m such a dumbass, he thought.

｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ★, ｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ☆

“Oh, here,” Sanji said. “Your uniform. Zeff was able to get to the dry cleaners on time.”

It was 3 hours later, and Usopp was currently finishing his third plate of grilled chicken and baked potato. Usopp’s mouth was full when he looked up at Sanji. The blonde held up the newly cleaned uniform that hung on a hanger. “You shouldn’t let those shitty people bully you.”

Usopp put his head down. He looked at the plate of food he was nearly done with. Of course, of course. Sanji liked to remind him of how much of a wimpy asshole he was. He couldn’t fight off a bunch of bullies, yet he could fight his–

“I don’t let them bully me,” Usopp said, interrupting his stupid thoughts. “They catch me off guard each time.”

Sanji snorted. “Off guard?”

Usopp clenched his fist. His hands were hidden, the table keeping them out of view. He rested his hands on his knees. “Not everyone can kick ass like you, Sanji,” he said with a sigh. “Not everyone is a soccer athlete  prodigy with a hard-ass kick.”

Sanji shook his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

It had to do with everything. Because it wasn’t any of Sanji’s business. Right? He wasn’t his friend.

Usopp bit his lip. He didn’t say anything for a long time. “I’m not as strong as you and the others,” he said slowly. “That’s just not my style.”

Sanji raised an eyebrow. He was clearly caught off guard by Usopp’s words. “What the hell do you mean that it’s not your style?” Sanji took a lollipop out of his front pocket, unwrapped its rapper, and stuck it in his mouth. “So, you take a beating just for the hell of it?!”

Usopp’s hands started to shake. Dammit.

He looked up immediately. “Sanji, I’m fucking weak,” he said. “Don’t you get that?”

His peer was silent.

Usopp looked at his dry-cleaned clothes and the empty containers of a home-cooked meal. He glanced at the ceiling fan and his eyes stayed there. He couldn’t look at anything else, knowing he was being smart (an asshole). But Sanji should know what was best for him.

“Usopp,” Sanji said carefully. “I- I…me and the group aren’t mad at you...”

“Anymore,” Usopp added. “Nice play, Sanji.”

“Can you stop acting like an asshole?!” The blonde said a little louder than he probably meant to. “You can’t act like we’re mind readers.”

The 17-year-old tightened his hands into fists. They were still hidden under the table. Sanji couldn’t see how angry he was making him. “I never thought you guys were,” he said carefully. “I’m better off without all of you.”

Sanji scoffed. “You’re lying.”

“So, you think I can’t take care of myself?”

Usopp’s peer shook his head quickly. He bowed his head. “No, I wasn’t saying th–“

“I’m just dead fucking weight to all of you,” Usopp affirmed as he stood up. “You can see your way out. I’ll leave the clothes you lent me at the restaurant–“

“Usopp,” Sanji tried. “Please-“

Usopp could feel the tears. He couldn’t cry in front of him. He’d look like the bitch he was. Sanji would report back to the group and tell them, “Oh yeah, I saw Usopp again. He’s even more of a dunce than I remember.” He just needed to wear the pointed white cone hat to top it off. Fuck the A-pluses. He would always be sitting in the corner of the classroom facing the wall. Even if figuratively so.

“I’ll cash app you the fee…for everything.”

Sanji grabbed his arm firmly. “Usopp,” he said frustratedly. “Don’t cash app me shit. I’m your friend.”

Usopp couldn’t look at him. He shook his arm out of his grasp. “I’ll give you back the clothes you len- “

“Fuck the clothes,” Sanji said. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. I just need a minute.”

Usopp nodded. “D- don’t bother cleaning up,” he said with his voice hardly shaking. “Thanks.”

He then walked away.

Once he was in his bedroom, he shut the door and put his back against the door, and slid down to the floor. His body was still trembling as his heart beat fast. “I’m so fucking stupid,” he said aloud. “He hates me even more.” He could hear Sanji packing up his things. For some reason, Usopp’s heart sunk at that. Because a long time ago, when things were right, Sanji would have been back here. 

They’d talk all night.

Usopp closed his eyes and silently wept.

\\

“So, you don’t think Zeff’s gonna fight for you?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You wouldn’t come here in the middle of the night if you weren’t hiding.”

“I’m scared, Usopp.”

“I know. I know.”

//

｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ★, ｡･ :*: ･ﾟ ☆

Den Den Nexus (@SharpshooterShadow): "Grilled chicken, calculus troubles, and unexpected confessions. A glimpse into the tumultuous life of a Sniper King. Fries, friends, and fractured emotions. #HeadHigh #SniperKingSaga 🍟📚🏹 "

Chapter Text

05: freaking young

“If you cage the beast, the beast will get angry.” – The Indian Feed

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Wh- why do I have to tutor h- her?”

“Mr. Usopp, you have no right to question me.”

“But it’s only fair to know–“

“You’re the top performer in the class. She’s the lowest. Make sense?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Good. Now shoo.”

With an eye roll, Usopp turned around and walked out of the room.

His hand gripped one of the straps of his laptop bag. It wasn’t his usual satchel today because of Math. Apparently, the pop quiz could only be done on a computer with a lockdown browser.

Unexpected (but at the same time unsurprising), he hadn’t had any run-ins with anyone who hated his guts. Maybe they were all suspended, or they had other things to distract them from their shitty reality. He had his music and nightly escapades, they had something too. They had to have something to find escape in. While he blasted J. Cole in his ears, they probably played a sport or messed around with a weed bong (and maybe even more).

What did he fucking know? Usopp laughed. He didn’t know a damn thing.

As he dodged the throngs of people who filled up the entire hallway,  he caught a pair of quiet blue eyes. They were quite different from Sanji’s but just as bright and sometimes hidden by long bangs. They were always filled with a knowingness that he’d taken a sort of comfort in at one point. But they no longer did because there was no reason to give him that comfort. So, to meet her gaze was accidental. She’d probably meant to catch someone else’s eye.

He tightened his grip on the straps of his bag.

He removed his gaze and continued on the narrow path towards Lit.

 

//

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But there’s a reason why you did that.”

“He pissed me off,” he replied with a shrug. “There’s nothing more to it.”

“Usopp, he’s hurting too,” she replied softly. “You know that, right?”

//

Usopp stood outside of an old small movie theater. His hands were in his pocket, and he glanced around the entrance. There were a good number of people who were at the box office. A trio of young boys stood at the back of the line. Usopp stood behind them.

“Why do you think they’re doing this?” One of the boys asked. “My mom said that she was in college when the first movie came out.”

“Really?!” His friend asked. “Your mom is old!”

“Hey!” The boy said angrily. “Your dad is old too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too–“

“My grandma is reeeealy old,” the third one of the trio redirected. “She uses a walker.”

“She IS old!” The other two boys said in unison.

The trio then laughed.

Usopp hid a smile. They reminded him of his dorky younger self. Maybe he was still a dork. But it was amazing to realize how some things were universal. Once upon a time he ran around in a red cape and held a humongous green slingshot, and sang, “Oh the wind carries my name. From Sniper Island far away. When I take aim it's straight and true..”

How could he forget?

The boys continued to babble on about Sniper King, and how they believed he’d developed the power to see into the future to easily sense danger nearby. “He’s a liar!” One of the boys said.

“No, he is not,” the other one admonished. “He isn’t a liar. He tells the truth because his lies always come true.”

Before two of the boys could protest, the box office clerk said, “C’mon, boys!”

The boys quickly bought their tickets, and soon it was Usopp’s turn. He took out his credit card from his wallet. He wordlessly handed it over to the clerk.

“We rarely get people over 12,” the clerk said with a laugh. “I’d think Sniper King was for all ages.”

Usopp shrugged. “I guess everyone doesn’t want to go to Sniper Island.”

The clerk smiled. “It’s in your heart,” he said. “I guess people have no heart.” The clerk then handed Usopp the ticket. “Enjoy the show.”

Usopp nodded and walked into the building.

He stopped at the snack counter and bought a small thing of popcorn. He would drink the water he carried in his satchel. Besides, if he bought something from the counter that’d mean that he wasn’t carrying a few more snacks in his bag…and it was cheat day. Heracles still wasn’t back from his class reunion to reprimand him.

Once he was seated, he watched the big screen. A few previews played, with a couple of advertisements scattered throughout. Eventually, the movie’s title card appeared and the theme song came on. And the movie began.

On the Sniper Island,

I was born

100 shots, 100 hits

Lu lu lala lu 〜 ♪

Throughout the movie, Sniper King goes head-to-head with a woman who looks like a little girl. She was a shapeshifter who led a group of people to their demise based on the lies and promises she’d tell them. In particular, they were a group of people–really small people and other beings. Backing the woman was a terrible man, who sported glasses and black mane. Everyone in the theater (including Usopp, although he wouldn’t admit it) cried when Sniper King walked into the villainess’ layer and gave himself up. Sniper King got down on his knees and said, “I’ll stay! Just let them go.”

A 10-year-old Usopp didn’t know how Sniper King was going to get out of that situation. His superhero friends were all dealing with villains of their own. The leader of the superheroes was down for the count because he was too busy dealing with the lithe woman’s number 1 bodyguard. Nonetheless, Sniper King was on his own (surprising? No. The man was used to working alone), and had to face his fears head-on.

Yet, just as the villainess gave Sniper King a purple little jujube–slipping it into his open mouth…unexpectedly, he blew fire out of his mouth. It roared.

Presently, 17-year-old Usopp cheered with the audience. A roar of laughter echoed throughout the movie theater, spreading a large blanket of warmth amongst the moviegoers. There was light in that because Usopp was that 10-year-old boy again who still thought he was the son of Sniper King. And maybe he’d been. But who cared? Because Sniper King was a hero and a best friend to those who needed one. Sniper Island lived in people who still were a kid at heart.

Usopp wiped a tear from his eye and stuffed more popcorn into his mouth. He wiped even more of his tears but he stopped when he realized how salty they made the popcorn; adding more flavor.

 

\\

“Who’s your favorite superhero?”

“Sniper King.”

“He isn’t a hero.”

“Says who?”

“The internet.”

 

//

An hour later everyone had exited the theater. Some stayed behind to chit-chat and chill. Usopp, in particular, threw away his empty popcorn bucket and walked to the door. Before he opened it the clerk from earlier stopped him.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “This probably came out when you were younger than any of the riff-raff here. So, here, have it.”

Usopp looked at the item that was held out to him; his eyes widened. “But–“

The clerk laughed. “I have no use for it,” he said easily. “It’ll end up in the trash.”

The 17-year-old nodded and took it from the man. “Thank you,” he said. “This- this means a lot.”

The older man gave him a long look. It wasn’t creepy per se, but there was something in his gaze that told Usopp he could read him. Whatever that was, Usopp wasn’t eager to find out. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d insulted the guy or said anything out of turn.

“Goodnight,” Usopp said awkwardly. “Uh…thank you.”

The clerk smiled. “See ya.”

With that, Usopp opened the door and walked out into the chilly fall weather. He tightened his red hoodie and descended into the night.

He only lived a few blocks from here. The only buses running were going in the opposite direction, and he didn’t want to waste money on an Uber. Despite Heracles paying him to work at the plant nursery, Usopp had to admit he was kinda stingy.

The teen was already ways away from the movie theater when he heard something. It wasn’t an obvious sound. If any person had been driving down this very street they probably wouldn’t have heard. But it was loud enough for Usopp to stop.

“Hmm..” he examined his surroundings as he slowly did a 360. With no sign of danger, he continued his trek home.

After a minute he heard it again. The noise.

Usopp stopped again.

“Stopppp!” A younger kid’s voice bellowed. “Get off!”

Usopp jumped and turned around. He looked towards the direction he heard the voice. It sounded very young, and afraid. And familiar. The rustling of leaves gave away the hiding spot even more. Usopp followed the sounds. As he trekked closer, he saw two figures. The moon was the only light that gave away what was going on.

Usopp put the hood of his hoody up. He slowly made his way into the alley, walking off to the side. His feet were soundless against the pavement as fall leaves blew into the silent narrowed path between a building and an abandoned home.

As he peeked around the corner, he saw the young boy. Usopp’s eyes widened. It’d been one of the boys in the trio.

There wasn’t much noise, but he could hear an older man. “If you do this for me,” the man said. “I’ll buy you any video game you want.” Usopp frowned. “You and your friends were talking about those little nerf guns. I can get you that too. They cost a pretty penny, don’t they?”

The kid was silent.

Usopp bit the bottom of his lip. There wasn’t necessarily anything to imply that the old man was harming the boy. The moon told him so. But the older man was leaning in incredibly close. The boy was shaking.

But what did it matter? It was pretty chilly, and he should mind his own business. Yeah, Usopp. You’re not a superhero. Get over yourself. If he were to just jump in headfirst into something for the hell of it, he’d probably end up dead. Besides, he still had a lot of homework, and…Usopp pressed his lips into a thin line. Shut the fuck up, Usopp.

He opened his bag and took out the item the clerk gave him. It was the limited edition Sniper King mask that came out when the second movie had its premiere all those years ago. It was in a neat little box. It’d probably cost about a good 100,000 beri on eBay.

Quickly, the 17-year-old got behind a trashcan nearby and opened it. He then placed the mask on his face, tightening its straps. Next, he put the hood of his hoodie up, and quickly strapped up some gloves. This took no less than 30 seconds.

The man was still speaking. “Everyone does it,” the man said. “It’s completely normal.”

“It is?” The boy asked innocently. “B- but–“

He could hear a zipper.

“Stop!” The boy yelled. “Stop–“ His voice was muffled.

Despite the beating in Usopp’s chest, his body shaking, his knees barely buckling–he moved closer. Now or never.

Fucking bastard.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

5 years ago

Usopp rested a package of frozen green beans on his forehead. It was now simply a dull ache. Unlike earlier it didn’t feel as though his head was going to fall off. Nor was he under the impression that death was better than life itself (but he didn’t have a word for that type of thing yet).

He picked up a glass of newly made juice. It was very sweet, citrusy, and natural. It beat the artificial Tang he’d gotten so used to before…things happened. He gripped the glass cup tighter. Tang was disgusting. He’d never have that stuff if it meant he’d have to go back-

“Usopp?”

The 12-year-old boy snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the person who said his name. He forced a smile. “Oh, hi,” he said to the person. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t mean to sound rude, but he kept running into the kid. His name was Luffy.

Luffy smiled. “Oh, Nami’s my friend,” he said. “You’re her friend now, too?”

Usopp shook his head. “No.”

The messy-haired boy’s face fell. He gave a pout. “You don’t like Nami, huh?”

The curly-headed boy gave a confused look. What?

“No,” he said. “That isn’t it. She’s cool. But we just met.”

Luffy laughed. “So?”

Usopp frowned. It made sense, didn’t it? Just because you meet someone and they invite you into their home, doesn’t make you their friend. He was pretty sure the 13-year-old girl didn’t consider him a friend. She could see through his lies the minute he opened his damn mouth. But then again, she wasn’t the one with the split lip and bruise on their forehead. “It makes sense to me,” he mumbled.

“I don’t follow,” Luffy said picking his nose. “Nami considers you a friend. You have no choice in the matter.”

This time Usopp glared. Remind me to never touch his hands, he thought in disgust.

“What happened to your forehead?” Luffy asked as he threw the booger on the floor. “You look like hell.”

The boy with heavy melanin on his skin shrugged. “Usual.”

Luffy’s eyes were narrow. “Usual?” He repeated.

Usopp took a sip of the orange drink. “It’s nothing,” he reassured. “I probably deserved it.”

‘Who are they?” Luffy asked curiously. Well, his tone sounded curious and the question completely harmless, but underneath it all, he sounded pretty pissed if you knew what to listen for. Usopp wasn’t quite in tune with it as he’d like to think.

“Oh, it was this one guy and his friend,” Usopp replied. “Forgot his name. But he lives a few blocks away from here. Near one of the parks.”

Luffy nodded. “I know where that is.”

Usopp shrugged. “I’m not coming that way anymore. So– “

Luffy picked up the glass of juice (Usopp didn’t protest) and took a long sip. It was almost empty. “Let’s go,” he said after setting the glass down. “I’m bored.”

The straw hat-wearing boy grabbed Usopp’s wrist and walked to the door. Usopp could barely protest.

“You’re not a fighter, are you?” Luffy asked once they were outside and sprawled out on the grass; cloud gazing. “You just talk your way out of everything?”

Usopp shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt as much as you think,” he replied knowing very well that Luffy was talking about the bullies. “You get used to it after a while.”

There was silence for a while. Both boys looked up at the sky which was full of fluffy clouds. Hardly moving, but the sun was at work. It made everything stickier. Even their red-headed friend had a word or two to say about it since she loved to sit outside to look at her plants.

Usopp didn’t know where her house was at first. The directions she gave him had been ruined in the wash. Heracles wasn’t much help either because he was just as new to the area as he was. Usopp wondered why the girl had given a new business the chance to fulfill the only livelihood she had as well. Maybe she was a dreamer and a doer because a rough-around-edged girl like her did things to get work done.

He could learn a thing or two from her.

“You should come by my big brother’s gym,” Luffy said confidently. “He doesn’t fight anymore. But he still owns it.”

Usopp saw a bird pass one of the clouds. How the heck did it get up there without a flock? Was he soloing it for the day? Usopp wondered. Maybe the bird was lost. He could probably help find its way home. He helped that one guy who’d gotten lost at the mall. The one who’d saved his life. You almost died, dumbass.

“Why does he still own it if he doesn’t fight?” Usopp asked after a while. “Wouldn’t it be worth more to sell it?”

Luffy turned his head to look at him. He smiled. “My brother gave it to me.”

“But you don’t own it,” Usopp scoffed. “You can’t own something if you don’t pay for it.”

His friend laughed easily.

He did that a lot.

“So, I guess all the gifts you’ve ever been given you don’t own,” Luffy said. “Right?”

Usopp this time turned his head to meet his eye. “I guess you got me on that one,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I guess he did give it to you if you’re the only one who uses it.”

A breeze came by and the grass moved.

Usopp turned his head to look back up at the sky. He could smell the tangerines. “I’ve been to the moon,” he lied. “You can’t find grass up there. But the aliens there try to imitate it.”

Luffy sat up. “Really?!” He gasped. “How do they do that?!”

The boy’s genuine naivety and wonder was unnerving. Too bad he couldn’t share in that when for him all the wonder ended up lost in the fire.

“They’re really smart,” Usopp replied. “They can spit seeds out of their mouths, and the seeds grow and project the grass onto the moon.”

Luffy’s eyebrows were creased. “What do you mean by protect? The aliens protect the moon?”

Usopp opened his mouth to correct his new friend. But he stopped himself. It did sound pretty badass if the aliens were these super-agent types who battled any adversary wanting to take over and blow up the moon. Technically, Earth wouldn’t know what to do without the moon because it would wobble. Wobble, as in, affects the seasons and climates. Everything would turn upside down, and Earth would practically lose face. Life would become lifeless. People would fail to survive.

The aliens being tasked to protect the moon did sound pretty cool. He could work with that.

“Yeah,” Usopp agreed. “The aliens protect the moon. They still have to go home to Mars every now and then, but there are other aliens to stay and take their place. It’s like the armed forces.” It sounded reasonable.

“Kinda like my Grandpa,” Luffy said. “But people don’t like him much. My other brother, Sabo, says he’s a crook.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he said. “They say he shot an innocent person because he didn’t like the way the fella looked.”

Usopp frowned. “Looked?”

“I dunno,” Luffy said again. “But Sabo says that people should use what they’re given, and responsible for, to help the lesser people.”

Usopp made a sound of agreement. “Your brother is right,” he replied. “The helpless need someone to rely on.”

Luffy pointed up at the sky. “Yeah. Like the aliens you met, right?”

“Right.”

“Tell me more.”

Usopp sat up, faced his friend, and proceeded to do so. It became one of the best stories he could tell from time to time without stopping.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(@SharpshooterShadow): "Late-night adventures 🌙 Just had a movie night reminiscing about Sniper King's heroic deeds. Unexpected encounters and nostalgic vibes. Tutoring drama in the mix. Life's a rollercoaster, but I'm keeping my head high! 💪 #HeadHigh #SniperKingSaga #LifeAdventures"

Chapter Text

06: i ain't mad at cha

 

“The door is more than it appears. It separates who you are from who you can be. You do not have to walk through it.”

 

– Franklin Richards

 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“So, who’s in the cards to debut soon?” A man with a full head of hair asked. His hairstyle resembled a tortoise. “There are talks of a new lineup that’ll definitely shake up the MMA world.”

The reporter’s female co-worker nodded. “Yes, apparently we’ve seen an upscale of new hopefuls pre-debut and post-debut,” she said. “One in particular, who will be debuting in the next year, is the one-and-only Monkey D. Luffy.”

“Another D?” The man asked, evidently flabbergasted. “We haven’t seen a D in the ring since Gold Roger.”

“Kamekichi,” the woman singsonged as she glanced at him. “Don’t you remember? His son was a UFC hopeful years ago.”

The man, Kamekichi, looked shocked. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. But he recovered quickly with a smile and a nod. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I remember. It’s unfortunate– “

Thunk!

Crack!

The video stopped playing.

Usopp looked up and saw the angry face of a peer. He didn’t know their name. But he knew he hadn’t pissed them off. Or had he? There’s been a variety of bullies these days. All he knew was that–

“That’s my phone!” The 17-year-old yelled as he scrambled out of his chair to grab the (pleasedon’tletitbebroken pleasedon’tletitbebroken) phone. “Asshole.”

He mumbled the last part.

Usopp was down on his knees as he picked up and examined the Android phone. There was a new tiny scrape on the corner, but it didn’t add to the multiple scratches evidently seen on the back of the phone. Those were old scratches. The glass screen protector was even more cracked.

Regardless, he wouldn’t have to beg Heracles for another phone. This had been his third one, which was barely a year old. The life-span of a phone lasted longer than that. Or at least it should.

Taking a relieved breath, Usopp didn’t even have the chance to stand up when he was lifted off the ground; his uniform blazer and personal hoody gripped from behind. To Usopp,The surprised faces of several of his peers sitting at their desks and who’d been shooting the shit–looked akin to skyscrapers from an aerial view. All of his classmates looked up at him in fear. Some had their phones, recording the potential death they were going to bear witness to.

Usopp trembled. His body shook.

He couldn’t help it.

Oh, hell.

//

“I’m gonna pick you up, Usoppun.”

What?! But-

“B- but I’m not ready.”

The 11-year-old squirmed in the older man’s grasp.

He didn’t sign up for this.

“Hold your position!” Heracles commanded. “It’s the only way you’ll learn.”

“But– “

“One…”

Usopp extended his arms out and his legs straight. He was in a planking position, but he was suspended from the ground, in Heracles’ grasp.

“Wait- I- “

“Two…”

“Heracles– “

“Up up and away!”

Usopp hit the ground but he rolled onto his knees, performing something akin to a somersault and tumble.

It worked.

He wasn’t hurt.

He didn’t break anything.

He turned to look at Heracles.

The man smiled. “See?”

\\

“That’s wrong,” Usopp said. “The atomic number of carbon is 6, not 12.” He held up a small sheet of the periodic table.

“Shit!” The girl–sitting in the chair across from him–cursed. “I thought that answer was right.”

He sighed. “Calm down, it’s a common mistake.”

The girl looked at him, her eyes were watering. “But I thought I was getting this.” Her hand gripped the mechanical pencil harder. “I can’t fail!”

Usopp didn’t flinch. She was so predictable. But he had to admit that she was kinda too hard on herself. She had gotten through some problems quickly, some that he hadn’t even gotten on his first try. But then again, he’d been watching TV when he’d been doing his chemistry homework. The History Channel wasn’t that boring if you knew what to look for. The Void Century was more than just a conspiracy theory, huh?

Without much thought, Usopp leaned in and loosely wrapped his hand around the girl’s grip and let it stay there. Her gaze was too far away to probably notice his touch. But she wasn’t shaking anymore. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

She frowned. “That’s easy for you to say,” she mumbled. “You’re practically a genius.”

The 17-year-old boy creased his eyebrows. Obviously confused. “A genius?” This was new.

She nodded stubbornly. “Yes, you’re a genius,” she uttered. “Your name is always heard at the academic award ceremonies.”

This time Usopp laughed. He shook his head and retracted his hand. The girl looked at where his hand had been, her cheeks reddened. “What’s so funny?” She asked annoyedly. “I’m right, aren’t I?!”

“Perona,” he said through his laughter. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am,” she very adamantly replied. “Everyone at school knows it.”

Usopp eventually sobered and nodded. “Okay. Okay,” he agreed. “But I honestly think the idea of what a genius is isn’t something that should be written in stone. Your artwork is nice. And I heard you dance. So, you must be good at that too.”

“Kàn,” Perona murmured as she looked away from him and hid her face. “Dammit.”

Bingo, Usopp thought. She’s a sucker for compliments, I see.

She turned her head to look back at her notes. Her cheeks were even redder. “The atomic number of mercury is…”

She flipped through the textbook and looked back at her notes at the same time. Once she found the page, she looked away from it and down at her notes. “The atomic number of mercury is 200.”

Usopp shook his head. “It’s 80.”

She frowned, and before she could throw another tantrum he reached over and touched her hand. He could see her body slowly relax. “It’s okay,” he said. “You got its atomic mass right.”

"Aiya!” She looked up and smiled. “I did?” She sounded hopeful.

He nodded. “Yes.” He retracted his hand.

Perona looked down at the book and back at her notebook. The tip of her pencil moved across the notebook paper gracefully. She moved on to the next element.

Meanwhile, Usopp smirked. He sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. I wonder how Kumacy is doing. He thought. After all, the bully wasn’t going to be back. Even if he’d tried to be readmitted, he probably wouldn’t have time to catch up with the school work. How many months would he have to go through physical therapy? One of the chatty Kathys said his leg was completely shattered (he’d been hit that hard, huh?). So, it’d practically be a year.

Kumacy wasn’t coming back.

Perona didn’t have a lap dog anymore.

Usopp touched the mechanical pencil hidden in his sleeve.

//

“Seriously, who the hell are you?!”

“Like I said, I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Everything…big guy.”

\\

Usopp took a bite of the apple he’d packed for a snack. It was a rare moment of peace after Heracles worked him ragged. Usopp knew he wouldn’t be able to do much of anything if Heracles was dead set on him finishing his work. The old man was a hard-ass when it came close to closing time.

As Usopp sat at the kitchen table he could hear the television blaring in the background. The reason for why they still had cable was a question Heracles didn’t have a sound reason to. Usopp remembered that it was something like, “I won’t let those bastards look into my house.” Or “You know, I always feel like someone is always watching me with that little Roku-thingy ma jig.” Either way, Usopp could only leave the old man to his ways that were truly his own.

“They say it’s a fledging business,” a female’s voice said. “New jobs have sprung up!”

Another voice followed.

“They will not be limited to folks who reside here in the city,” a male voice said. “But the jobs were made exclusive to those who seek asylum in the Grand Line coming from other regions in Scholaria, outside the archipelago.”

“That’s amazing!” The woman reporter said. “The Donquixote Family has made a sound investment.”

Usopp scoffed. “So they say,” he mumbled. “Just watch, they’ll be saying the company went bankrupt but the workers will still get paid….not.” Outsourcing is criminal if not done right by the right people. The CEO of the Donquixote Family was crooked as hell. Usopp could feel it. But the guy donated a lot to the high school. So, maybe, the judgment was a bit unfounded on Usopp’s part.

He took another bite of the apple and completed his calc homework. He glanced at the time on his phone every now and then. “I just need enough time,” he mumbled. “I barely have time as is.” Time for what? Maybe there was fun always to be had, or he planned on finally going to bed on time.

Usopp let out a snort. “Not a chance,” he whispered to that voice stuck in his head. He put one of his dreaded locks behind his ear. “I’ll try again tomorrow. It can wait…I’ve got time.” His ankle still needed time to heal.

With one last bite, Usopp threw the chiseled-down apple into the trash.

He’d simply thrown it over his shoulder and into the trash can it went. His eyes lingered on the two small bowls sitting on the ground. One bowl still had water left in it.

//

“She doesn’t like the food.”

“Huh? But the other food is expensive. A bag over 30 pounds cost– “

“Over 60 beli, I know.”

\\

A little late, once Usopp put his homework in a yellow folder he slowly walked (practically limped) to his bedroom. DOMS was one son of a bitch if one was given hardly a break. Heracles could’ve played fair and warned him. But no, the old man wanted to make a point. Why was Heracles so worried about his cowardice? It wasn’t like he lacked autonomy. Now he was going to have a black eye.

Ugh.

Ankle. Eye. Next? Wrist.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

Usopp fell face-first into his bed and stayed there for a while. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere anyway. It was a school night and Heracles was on the phone talking to an old friend. So, his sleep schedule had changed considerably.

Usopp groaned.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

Maybe he could convince Heracles that he was sick and had a nasty case of I-can’t-go-to-school-or-I’ll-die disease. Besides, it was proven to be a real thing when Usopp was once kicked down the walkway leading to 9th Grade Hall and made to jump over the railing into the basement. He was practically Superman. Or better yet, Sniper King. But that fictional son of a bitch was a beast. He had a girl, 3 subordinates who would do anything for him, and several superhero associates who’d be (or been) more than willing to work beside him when needed.

Meanwhile, Usopp was simply Usopp. Nothing much to show for but a decent IQ, and surviving several ass-kickings. Man, he could make that out of a career. Instead of focusing on winning, maybe it was to embrace losing. But how could he win, when winning had stopped being the goal ages ago?

Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

“Ugh!” Usopp groaned as he sat up to grab his phone. “Who would want to message me this time of night?”

He unlocked his phone’s home screen to the usual ShipsChat (Marilandia’s freeware app for instant communications). It was a message from an unknown number:

>>> Why do atoms always contain the same number of electrons and protons?

He scrolled down to the second message. A doll sticker popped up. Jiǔ wén dàmíng! It said.

He then scrolled further down.

>>> What is the purpose of adding powdered charcoal to the firework composition?

“What the hell?” Usopp asked. “Who the heck is texting me–“

Then it clicked as though a lightbulb went ding! above his head. The sticker looked just like her.

He answered each one. He needed to give her the impression that he was interested.

• Why do atoms always contain the same number of electrons and protons?

<<<< Easy. Atoms always contain the same number of electrons and protons because the positive charge of protons in the nucleus is balanced by the negative charge of electrons, ensuring overall electrical neutrality. Kinda like yeast in bread.

Usopp scratched his chin. He was a little rusty. Did she really want answers? Or did she just want to talk? Nonetheless, he answered.

• Why don't metals burn?

<<<< Got it. Metals don't burn easily because they have low ionization energies, making it challenging for them to lose electrons and form positive ions during combustion. There’s nothing to counteract it.

• Why is mass conserved in chemical reactions?

<<<< Mass is conserved in chemical reactions due to the law of conservation of mass, stating that matter cannot be created or destroyed, only rearranged. There are no shortcuts. Duh.

• What metal is commonly used to produce green-colored fireworks?

<<<< Barium is commonly used to produce green-colored fireworks. Bright-ass green.

Usopp stopped at the next question.

“Shit.”

He walked over to his textbook and opened it. He flipped over to the latest chapter that was being dissected in class. He’d forgotten the answer to the next question. It wasn’t at the top of his head.

• Which chemical is responsible for the bright red color in fireworks?

<<<< Strontium salts are responsible for the bright red color in fireworks.

• What is the purpose of adding powdered charcoal to the firework composition?

<<<< Powdered charcoal is added to the firework composition to act as a fuel, providing the necessary energy for the reaction and contributing to the brilliance of the display. Hence what makes a gun a gun.

He locked the screen, set down his phone, and walked to the dresser, and pulled out some PJs. He was gonna need to take a shower before he hit the hay. It wouldn’t be right to go to bed smelling like onions and feet (not that he liked smelling like both things).

After about 20 or so minutes he emerged from the bathroom. His hair was still a bit wet, but he’d take better care of it in a bit. He changed into a pair of sweats. He grabbed one of his cheaper hoodies and hopped onto the computer. He put on the pair of glasses next to his keyboard and grabbed the headphones wrapped around his Yeti microphone. He clicked the mouse repeatedly as his eyes roamed around the screen. Eventually, he straightened his posture and started to talk.

“I’m doing something different today,” he said into the mic. His eyes were on the script next to the computer monitor. “I’m going to tell you about the time I caught a big fish and it pooped on me.”

He smiled widely. “So, where do I start? Ah, well it was during a big trip with my friends. It was in a small town on the island, Little Garden…”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Den Den Nexus post (@SharpshooterShadow):

 

"Late-night chemistry tutoring with Ghost Artiste. She's got the potential, just needs a confidence boost! 📚✨ Also, unexpected pop quiz on fireworks chemistry? Answering questions like a pro. 💪💥 #TutoringAdventures #ChemistryFun #HeadHigh"

Chapter Text

07: U sTuPiD

“The real crime would be not to finish what we started.” – Doctor Octopus

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was dark.

So dark, he’d fallen asleep.

It was comfy kinda, but it was comfy enough to fall asleep in.

The light through the slits on the locker gave him the only clarity he needed. He could see a bit of his hands and his phone. With no one to call. His ShipsChat notifications were practically nonexistent besides the ones from several nights ago.

But other than that, there wasn’t anyone out in the hallway to give him a hand. So, he was on his own. But it was a deserved break. Once someone found him he could give the excuse that he’d been thrown into his locker again. Well, it wasn’t an excuse…

“Really?”

A voice.

Somebody was walking into the hallway!

Yay! He could be free now!

Now he just needed-

“But why would I need to do th- that? I earned the money needed for the fundraiser. It was two times the amount.”

“Chopper?” Usopp whispered. He should be in calculus right now. What the hell was he doing? He was a stickler for following the rules. Last year he didn’t even give in to going to the mall for that Uta concert. He was adamant because he was nervous. Dr. Kureha would have cared. Although she was pretty lax, given she was always seen carrying around a tumbler (Of coffee? Yeah right.) that she held extremely close. One time, Chopper tried to take it out of her hand to refill it for her. But she slapped his hand and told him he needed to mind his manners.

So, what the hell was he doing in the hallway? And who the hell was he talking to?

“Yes,” Chopper said softly. “It’s just that I can’t lie.”

Lie about what?

“Oh, so I just need to pay the fee for the merch?” Chopper’s tone was light. “I can come by after school. My friend can drive me–“

The person on the line must’ve cut him off. They spoke quickly. But Usopp couldn’t make out their words. Chopper drew closer to his locker. Usopp could start to make out the words from the person on the other end of the call. “So, I’ll need to come at night. Alone?”

“Yes,” the person said carefully. “The other person from the club isn’t available until after 8.”

“8?” Chopper said with surprise in his voice. “My curfew-“

“We won’t be long,” the person reassured. “It’ll just be about 30 minutes.”

Chopper was quiet for a while. Maybe a minute or 2 had passed before Chopper spoke. The unknown person on the other line had seemingly been patient, unlike Usopp. The person was probably used to Chopper’s ways, or so dead-set on taking advantage of them.

That was probably it.

They wanted to exploit Chopper’s good heart and innocence. He wasn’t the contumacious type unless he went without his meds.

“Okay,” Chopper agreed. “I’ll be there…with the money.”

Usopp face-palmed. “What the hell, Chopper?” He whispered. “You’re one of the smartest people in this whole damn school. And this is the best you can do?!”

Maybe he should tell someone about this.

More specifically that someone who sported green hair and three gold earrings on one ear. Why in the hell would he want to listen to anything you have to say? After the shit you pulled, why would he listen to a bullshitter? Get your head out of your ass.

But he’d be able to get Chopper out of this, he replied to the voice in his head. I- I’ve gotta try.

Once Chopper left, Usopp stood slumped against his satchel. His legs were kinda tired but he could manage. The locker somewhat supported his weight since it was such a tiny fit. Usopp sighed, scratching a part of his scalp. Would Chopper be safe? Dr. Kureha was pretty lenient about Chopper’s curfew. The cut-off time was at 10, and 11 pm on Fridays and weekends (and school breaks). If he mentioned the library or something she wouldn’t bat an eye. But Usopp’s peer was a bad liar.

Maybe that could save him.

Usopp closed his eyes for another nap. 30 more minutes until the period was over. The only person who’d come into the hallways in the last ten minutes (after Chopper left) was Spandam AND the headmaster. He shivered at the thought of both of them finding him and punishing him. It would be an absolute bitch, and they wouldn’t believe his (honest) excuse or explanation. They’d say, oh yeah. You lying bastard. You wanna skip your classes? Well, you’ll have to skip your lunch and after-school endeavors, it’s detention for the next 6 months!

Maybe he wasn’t giving the two men enough credit. Maybe the headmaster would be super chill about it. Meanwhile, Spandam might make him stay after school and mop the whole institution. It was a tough bargain, but Usopp didn’t feel the need to take the chance. They were both wild cards. And he couldn’t gamble today.

Relaxing his shoulders, Usopp closed his eyes and situated himself.

//

“Let’s hide in here, Usopp.”

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“You can’t be serious,” the female said. “Just follow my lead.”

He laughed. “You really think that woman shorted you?”

She lightly punched him on the arm. “She needs to give me a 50 beri refund. Simple.”

\\

Usopp was awakened from his sleep when he was pulled out of his locker. It was a very hard yank. What went with him was his heavy satchel and a horrible headache. When the hell were the lights so bright? Who the frack–

“…did this to you?!”

The 17 year-old-boy realized the person who let him out of the locker was talking. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, without knowing, his eyes widened. He immediately backed himself away into the wall. He’d think he’d grown up and got over everything.

“Were you taking a nap in there, bro?!”

Of course, Usopp would be forever angry because he didn’t know how to stop being angry. His chest started to throb. His heart started to pound.

“Those bastards…”

Usopp couldn’t see his own eyes turn glassy, or his body start to shake. A nauseous feeling in his stomach beat inside him, and he could barely notice everyone crowding inside the hallway. The bell rang. He suddenly couldn’t hear anything.

On auto-pilot, Usopp ran.

He ran so hard it was like his feet were made of air. His vegan dark leather Doc Martens were more than equipped to take a beating. He could sneak out of the door that was located in the freshman hallway, on the very left of a plethora of classrooms. Spandam didn’t frequent the freshman hallway as much as the Sophomore and up.

Once Usopp ran down the steps and into the hallway, he felt as though his heart was about to burst. It was like a countdown of fear, and he didn’t know how to get out of it. He just needed to make it to the door.

He nearly ran over the freshman who’d been too busy stuffing their bag into their locker. Other than that, the hallway had been empty.

Usopp made it out.

Once he’d gotten as far as he could. Somewhere between the old soccer field and the park. He sunk into the grass near the dumpster and cried. He was on his knees, gripping the grass mercilessly. Pulling at it angrily.

“You stupid asshole!” He yelled angrily to himself. “You can’t even face him like a real man!”

//

“Grab the milk. This is gonna be fun.”

“The bottle in the trashcan? It’s pretty rank.”

“Hand it over, bro.”

“Got it.”

“Camera ready, sis?”

“Yep. Charged and in focus.”

“Perfect. Now grab the bastard.”

\\

That was what sucked the most. No matter how many times Usopp could convince himself, just barely convince himself, that he was much greater; there was still a voice somewhere telling him that no one believed in a liar. He cried too much, and he ran too much. Coward. Coward. Coward. Even now, he could hardly keep himself from crumbling. How could someone NOT want to kick his butt?

People like Usopp were made for bullies.

One could never escape a bully. No matter how far you ran they’d always find you.

One had found Usopp.

Maybe a whole family of them.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A year and a half ago.

“When I find whoever did this…I- I’ll make sure you never step foot into this school again!” The school intercom blared. Students cleared the hallway, the 5-minute transition nearly over.

Usopp ran as fast as he could as his peers cleared the way for him.

His legs burned and his feet felt like they were bleeding.

It was absolutely terrible.

But that was okay because he’d performed the best prank for the first quarter.  He grinned and laughed loudly.

Midterms were this week, so it’d been pretty much a doozy. Some of his peers were cooped up in the library, their noses deep in a book. Others were typing furiously on their laptops and computers. Some teachers were even providing free coffee in the classrooms. The 4th year Lit teacher was even offering 4 hour after-school tutoring sessions.

Spandam was on more asses this week. One upper-class man named Kaku was immediately suspended when he’d heard that Kaku was the one who’d, allegedly, been spreading the rumor that Spandam had been fired from his last job for assault and battery. Another reason for suspending Kaku was because he gave a good impression of the headmaster. And that was apparently a rumor too.

It was a shame.

But maybe he’d be joining Kaku.

Spandam couldn’t really even get a good glimpse of Usopp. Because once upon a time Usopp was a part of the school’s track team, but he quit. He wasn’t particularly passionate about it (the Olympics weren’t calling his name), and he wanted to be noted for something else. Then there were those stupid outside endeavors he was practically forced into.

Do you know what it’s like to take a punch in the chest and stomach at the same time?

It’s dumb to kick a bee hive.

The thing was, sports didn’t get you much anywhere when you started to age. But those with raw strength, like three of his best friends, were blessed to not have to worry about that. Good genes were a godsend to those blessed enough.

Just as he nearly tripped, someone grabbed his wrist and he was pulled into a nearby closet.

“He won’t come in here.”

Usopp smiled. “Robin, I thought you were in the library.” He looked up at the lone lightbulb hanging high from the ceiling and at the shelves lined with old school supplies and paper towel dispensers. The bookworm sat on a discarded cushion in the corner.

“Long-nose,” she said with a slight chuckle. “I thought you knew me better than that.” The light was turned on.

Usopp sat down next to her and glanced at the book she was holding. It was a language that he couldn’t quite get. Maybe he’d never learn it. Surprisingly, he was better at French and Italian. Russian was painful on the tongue.

“It’s full,” he said as it dawned on him. “I’d be a bit claustrophobic.”

He took out his phone and went to his music playlist. He decided to search for a playlist right up her alley. Viktor Tsoi was pretty timeless for a rockstar.

She told him her mother was a fan of his band.

Usopp plugged the splitter into the input part of his phone. “Do you have your earphones?” He asked. “You like to listen to music when you study, right?”

She took her eyes off the book and smiled. “Usopp, you can listen to your playlist,” she said. “I don’t mind.”

He laughed and waved away her words. “Nah,” he said. “The Game can wait. Kino is pretty badass.”

She set the book down and took her pair of earphones out of her leather backpack. It was a backpack made for a scholar. “Okay,” she said. “You’re quite the gentlemen.”

He winked. “Not a problem, Robin.”

She smiled and leaned back.

He closed his eyes.

It was for just a moment that Usopp was in another part of the world other than Marilandia, and Robin was back home. He could suddenly understand Russian, and she could be close to a place she hardly remembered.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for taking me home, Usopp.”

They were still in the closet.

“Anytime.”

They fell asleep.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Den Den Nexus post:

 

"Locked in shadows, a phone call reveals a friend's tangled web. Late-night rendezvous, hushed conversations. 🌑🤫 #SecretsUnveiled #LateNightDrama #MysteryCalls"

 

Chapter Text

08: classy

The first rule of going on the run is: walk, don't run. ― Black Widow

 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp skipped lunch and took advantage of the freedom. He didn’t own a car, nor did he have the luxury to afford a decent meal. With that, he simply just wanted to enjoy the decent fall weather that surrounded him. What more was there to living if one couldn’t enjoy a day where the weather was fairly tolerable, and the sky clear? As long as he could still see the sky everyone would be okay, right? It wasn’t like it was hell here.

Ha, funny.

He grabbed the orange headphones that sat around his neck and shoulders and put them over his head and ears. He closed his eyes and let the music take over him. Took him to a place where there were no lies, no sadness, no contradictions, no restraints, no baggage, and no self. He simply wanted to be. If there’s a god, why couldn’t he be more friendly?

Ten minutes had passed, and he’d moved on to The Game.

No, reality.

The melody hit hard, and he was rapping along to each line the musician spoke. It was almost like a duet. Usopp probably liked the song more than he’d like to admit.

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

“What the hell?!”

Usopp let go of the hold he had around the man’s wrist. He slid back as though he’d killed someone, but he looked at his hands and saw no blood. They were clean.

Whew.

“Sorry!” Usopp apologized quickly. He didn’t make eye contact with the man. “I wasn’t thinking. I thought you were uh…like, trying to attack me. I’m a dumbass.”

The man laughed, gingerly rubbing his hand. It was a hearty laugh.

Usopp finally made eye contact.

The man looked no younger than 25. His complexion was fair, and his hair was a dirty blonde. It wasn’t quite as yellow as Sanji’s, but just as distinct. His hair was messier but fitting. Even in his choice of clothing that consisted of a decent suit that fit his stature, and a pair of classic sneakers. Noticeably, just as the sun finally showed through the clouds, Usopp noticed a distinct scar over his left eye. It kinda looked like it hurt, but it didn’t take away from his attractive features. Even Usopp had to admit he had this edgy working professional thing going on.

“It’s okay,” the guy said. “You got a good grip. I’d think you were a trained fighter.”

Usopp blushed and scratched the back of his head nervously. Oh shit.

“Yeah,” Usopp said. “That’s not the first thing people would guess about me.”

The dirty blonde raised an eyebrow. “You’re my brother’s friend, right?” The man then asked. “You’re…Usopp?”

“Huh?” The teen backed away a bit. “Who- who’s your brother?”

“Luffy,” he said. “You’re one of his friends, right?”

How’d he know who he was? Was it by looks alone? Especially when Usopp just so happened to be out here when the guy was possibly looking for the straw hat-wearing teen.

Usopp creased his eyebrows to indicate that he was somewhat caught off guard. Since when did Luffy have a brother? Okay– wait. There was the one who was a firefighter, and then there was the one who’d been in the UK–

“Oh.” Usopp’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh, yeah. The lawyer.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Sabo.” He’d heard a slight English accent. Far from a Harmony Haven accent.

“If you’re wondering where Luffy is, he’s with everyone else. They all went to eat at the restaurant a few minutes out, Baratie.”

Sabo nodded. “Oh, okay. Well, um…” he took something out of his backpack–or a Go-bag, as they called them. Usopp hadn’t realized the man had been wearing one.

Luffy’s brother fished out a little present box. It was red. And wrapped in a nice yellow bow. A tag with the name: Luffy, was attached to it.

“Can you give this to him?” Sabo asked as he held the box out to Usopp. “I would head over there. But I’m crunched for time.”

“Um…yeah,” Usopp said with a bit of hesitation. It wasn’t like he could tell the man that he wasn’t exactly friends with his brother. But he was kind of scared to. “I can give it to him.” He took the box.

Sabo smiled. “You know,” he said with a curious look in his eye. “I think you should have this.”

Usopp blinked. “Huh?”

The lawyer unzipped the front part of his Go-bag and took out a silver pen. It looked expensive and industrial. It was very pointed on one end.

He gave the lawyer a curious look. If Usopp were to be a bit more honest he’d think the guy was royalty. He looked kinda intimidating in this Ace Attorney way. A bonafide SEGA game protagonist.

Sabo held out the pen to him. “Here. Take it.”

Maybe Sabo felt sorry for him. Usopp could only presume the guy figured out that he wasn’t Luffy’s friend, and that he was just a lousy guy sitting on a bench, with only his music to keep him company.

So, Usopp took the pen to save himself the hassle of explaining himself.

But Luffy’s brother didn’t leave it at that. He threw him a small blue box. It looked like it was a small snack of some sort. “Jaffacakes,” Usopp read aloud. “Are these cookies?”

Before Sabo could reply his phone rang. The lawyer gave him an apologetic look before taking the call. “Hey, what’s up?”

Usopp looked at the small box and examined what was on the box; the picture and label. It looked like the snack was something like a chocolate-covered cookie with orange(?) filling. This looked like a treat more fit for a certain redhead, but the small growl he heard coming from his stomach deterred him from giving it to her (Yeah, right. She hates you). But then again, if Heracles caught him with this he’d tell him to throw it away.

Fuck it.

“Okay, okay,” Sabo said to the person whom he was on the phone with. “I’ll be there in 30 minutes if not sooner. I do apologize.” He grabbed his backpack and started walking away. But he stopped and turned around. He temporarily put his phone on mute to say goodbye to Usopp and told him to make sure to give his brother the present box.

Usopp nodded. Sabo waved bye and turned back around to walk back to where he came.

 

//

“He’s an activist,” Luffy said with a thoughtful look. “He’s been arrested 10 times.”

“Down there in the United Kingdom?” Usopp asked. “He’s in prison?”

“No,” He said as he shook his head. “My dad bailed him out. He’s currently in the States.”

\\

Lunch had passed, and eventually, Usopp found himself in the Lit classroom. No one had come in, and the teacher hadn’t appeared. He was probably on a coffee run. Or needed to talk to another teacher. Regardless, it allowed Usopp to place the box on the desk where Luffy usually sat. It gave him the inconspicuousness he needed to complete Sabo’s request. Once he placed the box on Luffy’s desk, he could hear voices nearing the classroom. He quickly sat in his seat and opened his journal.

More of his peers came in. Friends sat next to friends, and slackers sat in the very back. To ease his anxiety Usopp looked back to where he set Sabo’s gift to Luffy and his heart stopped.

There was nothing on the desk!

Usopp faced forward again but he was biting his bottom lip. Maybe he was just seeing things. Sabo’s gift was still sitting on top of Luffy’s desk, right?! Maybe he still had sleeping crust in his eye. That was probably it. So, Usopp turned back around to glance at the desk but the box was no longer seen. He wouldn’t have been so worried if he saw one or two of Luffy’s affiliates sitting nearby. But none of them were there.

Usopp facepalmed and turned back around to the front.

Sabo trusted him with this one thing, and guess what?! He failed the job per usual. And now Sabo was probably gonna think, man, why’d I trust that weirdo kid to give Luffy my gift? He has smarter friends, right?! I should’ve just asked the cute redhead with the tangerines. She deserved the Jaffacakes. Not that nimrod freak, Usopp.

Usopp sighed and closed his eyes.

He was gonna have to get it back. But how?

In his peripheral he noticed four people laughing and giggling. One of the people in the group was chugging down a can of lime juice. It was one of the girls in the group.

Another individual was chugging on some cola and planted a kiss on the girl’s cheek.

The third person Usopp noticed sat a little further away–but you could still tell they were a part of the group. The individual was enjoying a salad? The container the young woman held was full of cucumber and ranch. She used chopsticks, but it didn’t do much but make her look cheap.

Last but not least was the individual sitting in the center of it all. He talked big. He wore a straw hat too. The problem was that it looked like something you bought at a nearby sari-sari that claimed to sell real iPhones. It just didn’t work. But that wasn’t what stood out. The bunch was as ratchet as it was.

What stood out was what the guy with the cheap straw hat was throwing up in the air. His hand moved up and down as the box was thrown up and quickly after, falling.

It was Sabo’s gift to Luffy.

Oh, hell no.

Usopp got up and slowly walked over to the group. Although his hands were shaking and his heart was pounding, he could still focus. He wasn’t dying.

Once he was standing in front of the bunch, he said, “Demaro, I need that back.”

The group and its leader, Demaro, stopped talking and laughing.

The leader gave him a long look and Usopp willed himself not to look away. It was so hard not to. “C- can I please have that box back?” Don’t be an asshole. Don’t be an asshole. Please just give me it back. I don’t want you to break both of my legs. It’s happened once.

Peers nearby weren’t paying any heed to the interaction. Students were still filing in, and the teacher hadn’t come back. He was still wherever.

The whole group broke into laughter. Even the one who was enjoying the Thai salad. “I can’t believe this bitch is asking me this.” Snickers. “You don’t want me to hurt your boyfriend’s little feelings?! Huh?” Demaro asked in a baby voice. “I’m doing him a fucking favor. Why would he need this shit from you? You’re a lame-ass who always gets their ass beat. You talk too damn much. And you’re ugly. Go away.”

Usopp’s hands stopped shaking. His knees didn’t buckle. And he smiled. It was wide, and entirely his own. He looked each one of them in the eye and said, “fuck you.” He leaned in. “Give me back the box.” His tone was low, and his eyes fierce.

Demaro’s face dropped. But it was a blink-and-you-miss-it type of thing. It came as fast as it went.

The 17-year-old hadn’t realized the classroom had quieted down. No one was chatting or taking out their journals. TikTok videos were paused, earphones were out of ears, and the outside was even quiet. No one said a word.

Usopp didn’t duck quick enough.

It was one clean punch. His head was numb and he could feel himself slipping. But he blinked and he was still wide awake. He wasn’t done and was going to get that damn box back. He didn’t care what those bastards did to him.

He got up off the ground and ran forward. The group had run off. But the teacher came back.

Usopp stopped and looked up at the towering man who didn’t wear much of a facial expression. But he was a fair grader and believed in self-study. He did fit in with a big majority of the alumni here, but even Usopp had to admit that he stood out a bit…a lot. “Hey,” Usopp said feebly. “Um, I was just needing to use the restroom…sir.” He chuckled nervously. “I got a nosebleed.”

The Lit teacher sighed but didn’t do much. He said, “10 minutes.”

Usopp smiled in gratitude. “Thank you!”

He walked out but split into a run once he rounded the corner. The principal usually stayed in his office during this hour (or was never seen in general), and Spandam was pretty absent in the afternoon sporadically. But his shoes made a distinct sound, and that stupid megaphone he owned made a bit of noise itself. So, Spandam wasn’t necessarily subtle. Usopp would have known when the tyrant was near.

Where did that asshole and his friends go? Usopp thought. He’d stopped in the senior hallway. Demaro and his cronies weren’t the brightest bunch, but he was positive that they knew all the nooks and crannies of the school, as far as deceptions go. You had to keep your paper close when essay day came around.

Before he could pick the direction to go in, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and expected to get punched in the face. But he didn’t. He came face-to-face with Perona. She didn’t smile at him, but her eyes did roam around his face. He just realized her cheeks were redder than usual. Was she sick?

“Hey,” she said nervously. “I, uh, was wondering if we could meet up again.”

Usopp frowned. “You told me you managed to get a high B last quiz–“

“I’m still having trouble with the material,” she said. “An- and I want to make sure I can go to the festival with you- I mean with you and everyone else.”

The 17-year-old boy shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “We can meet in the school library on Monday before class. I’ll be busy tonight and tomorrow.” Oh, yeah. “Or we can Zoom call each other. I-“

“Monday is fine,” she interrupted. “See ya then- oh, wait.”

He turned back around to face her. She took something out of her bag. “I made these last period in Home Ec,” she said. “They’re peng bing…with a home-grown taste.”

He took the prettily wrapped package. Two puffy sugar cookies were inside.

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Usopp said in genuine surprise as he examined the sweets. “They look yummy.”

Perona’s face reddened again. She nodded, turned around, and walked away.

He lightly chuckled to himself.

Hook, line, and sinker.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp absentmindedly took out one of the cookies and took a bite. He had the present now, but he was a lot more winded than he expected. He took a few heavy breaths before sitting back down.

Heracles would kill him if he knew what he was doing right now. But Heracles wasn’t here, and the Jaffacakes wore off ages ago (and slowly creeping up…). He’d need to tell Sabo they were delicious. But he could bet on it that he’d never see Sabo again. That was for the best, either way. He’d nearly failed the mission.

Usopp glanced at the clock and decided he would leave in about 5 minutes. He needed the alone time. Demaro was probably okay now. Especially if they didn’t cross paths with each other again. Usopp rotated his shoulder until he heard a satisfying pop. “I wish I brought my headphones,” he murmured.

“Hey.”

He heard the classroom door close.

Usopp quickly turned around, an excuse ready at his lips. But he froze when he saw it was…a peer. Unexpectedly, he wasn’t wearing a Strawhat. Did he know about Sabo’s gift? If so, great, Usopp just needed to hand over the box. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled. “Luffy-“

The last cookie in the package Usopp was holding was snatched out of his hand.

What the hell?! That was his cook-

He shook his head. Of course, of course, the bottomless pit in Luffy just couldn’t resist food. Even if it’d been just a couple pieces of candy he found on the ground. Luffy liked a good snack. Also, he was probably on a diet due to his MMA training. Did Rayleigh make him go on that type of diet? Where he’d starve him for ten hours straight, and make him binge the remaining hours? Surely not. It wouldn’t work for people like Luffy.

Instead of getting angry or commenting on Luffy’s actions, Usopp took a seat on the ground. He sat underneath the window and closed his eyes. He just needed a quick nap. After Demaro’s bullshit, Usopp felt like he’d run a marathon. “Hey,” Luffy said. “Are you okay?” Usopp didn’t even move when he felt his peer sit down next to him. His eyes remained closed, and his mind was…was what? Shit. Where was he trying to go with that? He eventually let the thought go. Maybe he could just stay here for the remainder of the school day.

“Usopp?” Luffy said. “Are you okay?”

Usopp still didn’t answer. He wasn’t ignoring Luffy. Really, he wasn’t. But why did his friend sound so concerned? He didn’t need to worry. It’s okay, Luffy, He thought. Yes, I’m okay.

Thwack!

“What the hell?!” Usopp screamed as he put a hand on his cheek. “That fucking hurts!” He turned his head to glare at his friend.

Luffy’s facial expression relaxed.

“You’re okay,” he said fondly. “For a minute I thought…” Luffy looked down with a sigh. He avoided eye contact. “I thought you were dead. Or…dead.”

Usopp’s eyebrows creased together. What the hell was his friend talking about? He wasn’t going anywhere. He’d taken a bat to the head when he was younger. He survived pneumonia. It wasn’t like he’d been happy to survive all of that. Who gave Luffy the right to worry about him? He didn’t need to because Usopp didn’t need anyone’s concern. Not even the concern from his off-kilter naively charming but honest friend, Luffy. He had an amateur MMA tournament to think about. Wasn’t Luffy going to win? Hell yeah. He was going to win.

People like Luffy were meant to win.

“Why would I die?” Usopp asked. “That’s extreme. Even coming from you.”

An image of himself standing on the edge of a cliff temporarily came into mind. Temporarily, mind you.

Luffy met his gaze before blushing and looking away. “You were too still.” (I was afraid you weren’t going to wake up).

Usopp laughed and punched his friend in the arm. “You’re so dumb,” he said. “You’re even dumber now.” The air was no longer thick with tension. His friend's face lit up like the sunshine.

Luffy punched him back and leaned his head against his shoulder. “I missed you.”

Usopp laughed again. He leaned his head on top of Luffy’s. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I missed you too.”

He picked up the wrapper the cookie had been wrapped in. “I wish I was your guys’ friends again,” Usopp admitted. “But I don’t think I can be.”

Luffy sat up quickly. “Really?!” He asked as he leaned in a little too eagerly as though he were trying to figure him out, or like he’d actually missed being friends. Usopp didn’t care because he had to be honest with Luffy.

He wordlessly nodded.

Luffy then hugged him with all he had. “You’re always a friend.” He sniffled his nose on Usopp’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend.”

“Mine too,” Usopp said as he hugged his friend back. “Even when I’m not with you guys, I still believe in all of you. You’ll get to go to Laughtale. The land of opportunity, huh?”

“But it won’t be fun without you,” he said. “Believe it or not, even Zoro misses your jokes.”

Usopp smiled. “Oh, really?” He said. “How’s that?”

“He sleeps more when hanging out,” Luffy said. “Like, everyone just feels more…uh, tired.” Usopp now just noticed the red mark around Luffy’s right wrist.

Usopp laughed and closed his eyes. “It’s okay to lie, Luffy,” he said. “I do it all the time anyway. I’m not one to talk.” He sat back against the wall. “Besides, you were the only people who were ever nice to me. And I thank you for that.” He smiled and hummed. “Thank you.”

His classmate was quiet for a very long time.

“Why weren’t you in class?” Luffy then asked. “Kuma said you  were in the bathroom…but…”

Instead of answering, Usopp opened his eyes, looked down, and grabbed his friend’s wrist. “What happened here?” He then noticed the cut on his friend's chin.

Luffy reverted his gaze. He looked kind of guilty. “I got into a fight,” he admitted. “But it’s okay. They’ll be able to walk in a day or two.”

Usopp took his hand off his friend. “If you say so.”

He then felt a hand on his neck.

“What the hell happened to your neck?” Luffy asked angrily... “It’s red.”

“I accidentally scratched it.” Easy.

Luffy stared at him for a little too long. This time Usopp was the one reverting his gaze. Damn. He swore the guy always believed his lies. Why not now?

As though a switch was flipped, Luffy suddenly smiled and let out a little laugh. “Well, be careful next time!” He was back to being as carefree as Usopp knew him. Does my dark cloud come over him? Nah. They all have each other. Luffy holds the group together.

Before Usopp could forget, he handed his peer the box. “This was what I was after.”

Usopp’s eyes were closed. He was getting tired again. Why?

“It’s from your brother, Sabo.”

Luffy took the box and Usopp stood up. Whatever Sabo gave Luffy was his business, and Usopp was going to respect that. He needed some water anyway. He needed to go home and lie down. Before he could even walk away a hand was wrapped around his ankle. “Stay.”

Usopp frowned and looked down. The straw-hatless teen looked back up at him. Usopp slowly sat back down. He needed water but he’d stay in Luffy’s company for a little while longer. The school wasn’t even out yet.

Yet they both were back in one of the vacant classrooms, simply chilling because…because…

Well, Usopp didn’t know why. I think they both needed a break or something. After all, he’d taken a pretty nasty hit in the face. He needed to ask Perona what the heck kind of cookies she gave him. She said they were puffed-up cookies (peng bing), but the one he had was a bit off. He would’ve asked for Luffy’s opinion, but the guy wasn’t the best critic of food when he considered leftover chicken bones on a plate “unfinished.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Usopp turned and looked at his friend. “What?” He asked. Luffy looked a little embarrassed.

“Why are you hanging out with Perona?”

Usopp shrugged. “I’m tutoring her,” he replied. “She’s kinda dumb at chemistry.” He snickered a bit because just thinking about her staring angrily at one of the wrong answers was so off-putting. If looks could kill, she would have probably burned that notebook to the ground. She was cute in this Tim Burton kinda way. He was sure she had her share of admirers. He knew.

“Do you like her?” Luffy asked after a long silence. “Zoro is kinda surprised that you hang out with her.”

Usopp yawned. If only he knew. “No,” Usopp replied. “I don’t.”

Luffy gave him a quizzical look but shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “Good.”

Usopp had closed his eyes again. The Computer Science teacher probably didn’t care if he was missing from class. The old geezer just cared about tests and new software. But assembly language programming was a bitch. Usopp wasn’t missing that. His MIPS homework was past due. Which meant another 0 (or 50 percent. Vegapunk wasn’t that harsh of a grader.).

He opened his eyes when the bell rang.

Oh, yeah. The school was still in session. There was one more class before school was over for the day. He and Luffy needed to leave and go to Humanities. That was another class they shared. He tried standing up but didn’t realize Luffy had thrown his arm around his shoulder. His friend was asleep.

Usopp shook his friend. “Luffy,” he said. “We need to go to, uh-“ What was it? Oh yeah. It was class. “We need to go to Humanities.”

He made to move again but Luffy’s hold was an iron grip. Damn him and his MMA training.

“Luffy?” Usopp tried again. “The teacher's aid will make us write an essay. You hate writing.” He tried standing up again. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Luffy didn’t let go despite his insistence. “You can’t leave,” he said quietly. “I need you.”

Usopp laughed. “It’s okay. I’ll help you on your essay if she decides to punish us anyway,” he said easily. “C’mon let’s go. I’ll sit next to you.”

Luffy looked at him and Usopp immediately sobered at his facial expression. He looked hurt and his eyes were droopy. “Even more of a reason why we don’t have to go to class.” Luffy threw his arm around Usopp’s shoulder. “Stay.”

He did.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Den Den Nexus post:

Skipped lunch, embraced the fall vibes. Wrapped in orange headphones, lost in music, seeking solace. Unexpected encounter with enigmatic brother. Strange gift exchange ensues. 🎁 #UnexpectedConnections #MusicEscape #AnonymousChronicles"

Chapter Text

09: zenfire

"Tell me this. What is it with men and feeling like they have to act like self-destructive superheroes whenever trouble shows up?”

“It’s the only way we know how to love."

 

– Andrew Pyper

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Demaro Black nursed his jaw which he was sure was starting to swell. He angrily spit the blood out his mouth. That stupid asshole was gonna get it. Sure, he’d been caught off guard, but that was because the guy had beaten up his friends. His classmate got one punch in, and- what the fuck did he hit him with?

“I’m gonna kill him,” he said aloud. “Stupid asshole thinks he can get me.”

He heard the bathroom door open and shut. No way in hell was he gonna let the person walk in here and take a shit. He was gonna make the unfortunate visitor “get the hell out.” The second to the last period just started.

But before he could even open his mouth, Monkey D. Luffy walked into the light. Demaro’s face twisted into anger. Aw, fuck no.

“Get the hell out!” Demaro demanded.

But Luffy grabbed the broom the janitor had left nearby and stuck it in the door. Demaro’s heart started beating but he didn’t shut up. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared at all. “I said get the hell out!” He yelled. “Or, I’ll kick your ass. I’m trained in boxing.”

The straw hat-wearing teen still didn’t say anything. His hat had shadowed his face. But when the light hit it as he lifted it, Demaro’s blood ran cold. Luffy’s look wasn’t of anger, nor was it that bright-as-hell smile that Demaro swore was fake as hell. The guy wasn’t wearing much of a facial expression at all. But he could see the crazy in Luffy’s eyes when he popped his knuckles. “Good,” he said evenly. “Then I’m sure we can have a fair fight.”

Demaro laughed dryly. “After your pansy-ass friend tried to pick a fight with me. You think you have the right to just waltz in here like a big kahuna?” He said in a haughty tone. “Terrific.”

Luffy’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk about him like that,” he said lowly. “If you do–“

“Usopp The Bitch,” Demaro interrupted. “He sure–“

He was interrupted by a scream and a kick right in the stomach. Hell, that hurt. When did the guy get so close?

“Say it again. I dare you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

15 hours later.

Usopp woke up feeling a lot more refreshed than he had in a while.

Daresay, he could probably get through his first class without falling asleep.

With a big yawn and stretch, Usopp got out of bed. He opened a dresser drawer, pulled out a brown pair of plaid trousers, and grabbed a yellow sweater. It was a free dress day–because the principal was out of town, it was Friday, and allegedly during a faculty meeting, the majority were in favor of a free dress day.

Usopp grabbed a towel and the rest of what was needed once he got out of the shower.

A while later he emerged from the bathroom and grabbed his bag. He didn’t bother checking if Heracles was home because one way or another, Usopp would be receiving a text message from him sometime today. After all, they were going to be busier for the next few weekends, and Heracles kept making him climb a rope. It was ridiculous. Athletics Day hadn’t happened yet (Usopp hadn’t told him about it, so where was the older man’s mind at?), and wasn’t the old man worried about the new Colocasia plants he’d been so eager to grow right this time around?

Usopp walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He looked over at the coffee maker and thought about it. 1 cup of Java wouldn’t hurt. Heracles wasn’t against caffeine, but…

Nah. He’ll just stick to the water and go all out later.

Just as he walked past the mirror near the entrance of the kitchen he suddenly stopped and walked backward. He got a good glimpse of himself. He’d worn his hair up today. He’d gotten the sides shaved.

But the new haircut didn’t stand out.

It was the black eye.

//

Usopp jolted awake.

Where the hell am I?

His eyes roamed around the room. It was empty and–

Was school out already? How the hell did he fall asleep?

He felt something move beside him.

Luffy?

His peer slept soundlessly. Save for some of the drool pooling out of his mouth. He genuinely looked out of it. Like he was in a deep sleep he wasn’t getting out of too soon. Why the hell did he look so tired? Where was his hat? His favorite hat?

Usopp frowned. He and Luffy weren’t…friends. He was supposed to be distant, and nonexistent. Not Luffy’s friend. Not Nami’s friend. Not Zoro-

Luffy moved again. But it was to let out something that was a cross between a snort and a yawn. Usopp couldn’t tell. It wasn’t like they had had countless sleepovers or anything. It wasn’t like they’d gone on countless road trips together and if the trip was longer…it wasn’t like Luffy rested his head on his shoulder. It wasn’t like Usopp told the others, in the car with him, a good story. Zoro sipped on a Red Bull in the truck’s bed; Sanji was in the passenger’s seat wordlessly looking out the window, fighting nicotine pains; Nami cursed at assholes who swerved or drove too slow…

Usopp laughed bitterly. Stupid, why are you thinking about the past? You messed up everything. You’re a coward who can’t admit that you need hel–

Slowly, he grabbed Luffy’s phone that was in the pocket of the teen’s blazer. Luffy moved again, and Usopp quickly withdrew his hand from the pocket.

Luffy stopped moving, his snoring a little more known. But he didn’t wake up.

Usopp moved his hand to the pocket again.

With Luffy’s cracked and nearly destroyed android finally in his hands, he turned on the Lock Screen. As normal there was no password. It looked like security didn’t matter.

He touched the ShipsChat app logo and texted the only person who’d be blowing up his phone at this hour. Multiple stickers that were tangerines and oranges moved around.

Hey, I’m in the-

Usopp stopped typing and looked at the teacher’s desk, where a block with a name on it sat on it. Oh, the room was designated for the speech class. But the class hadn’t been in session because the teacher had been in an accident–or did they just quit? Usopp forgot. Regardless, he sent the text message.

Hey, I’m in the speech room. I fell asleep. And hungry.

That should get her attention, Usopp thought. It sounded like Luffy.

Usopp then looked at the sleeping boy and smiled sadly.

Eventually, he was able to situate Luffy to where he was resting his head against the wall.

Usopp stood up, and with one more glance at Luffy, he exited the classroom.

He just needed to find his hat.

\\

Ploop!

Not again.

Usopp didn’t dare touch the back of his head. But his hands tightly gripped the desk. He heard snickers. The language teacher was oblivious, she continued to explain the common words found in Russian everyday speech. As she got further into the lesson the quicker she got in speech. Evidently, she was quite passionate about the Russian language.

Ploop!

Usopp’s grip tightened on the desk. He inwardly groaned at the thought of having to wash his hair. Heracles would have been willing to help him detangle it, but the old guy pulled too much.

He’d have to detangle it himself because it’d get to be too difficult tolerating Heracles’ approach, and he knew he had to stop by the barber before anything.

Ploop! Ploop!

One spitball hit his neck.

Another one hit his ear.

Dammit.

It was too early for this.

“Yes,” the teacher said curiously. “Robin?”

Usopp didn’t turn around. He gripped the desk a little harder. Maybe they’d stop. Everyone’s attention was on her. She always had an interesting thing to say, given she had ties to the Iron Curtain.

“I was reading a story about two men who liked to shoot people,” Robin said calmly. “Both were good shots. But one day a big target ran off. Far far away. They couldn’t catch the finicky thing. They considered it a ‘thing’, not a person, mind you. The two men then simply stood there in the middle of the field that resembled a passage, because they were both absolutely certain that they were buying the target some time. They were certain they could still get them from a mile away. Running was pointless to them.”

Everyone was silent. Even the teacher didn’t bother to interrupt. After all, the student who was speaking wasn’t a bad storyteller.

Usopp smiled faintly. He was still facing the front.

“So, the men just stand there. One of them says, ‘Hey, I think we can go get them now.’ The other says, ‘Yes. It’s about time.’ Yet, before they could even begin walking a big bird comes from out of nowhere. It’s a big monstrous thing. It’s the type of bird prettier far away. And the bird picked up both of them. And slung them over into the mountains nearby, and eventually, the bird met the two men who were now dead, and ate them. Unbeknownst to those two men, their target had a protector. Someone who had its back. So, it’s safe to say that the moral of the story is that if you’re an asshole who likes to fuck with people for no reason but to prove you’re the dominant species, then you’ve got one thing coming. Those who seem weak always have someone watching over them.”

It was silent.

Usopp couldn’t see his peer’s facial expression. But he knew very well that she wasn’t wearing one at all. She always had an aura of calmness that was her own. It was like a cloak. A force field surrounded her as though to say, don’t fuck with me. Maybe he could’ve learned a thing or two from her. After all, there were ways she hid pain that he could never master.

Thank you, Robin.

Because she was a good storyteller.

She didn’t spin tells for the hell of it. She spun them to talk trash. But she went about it wrong. He needed to be on the receiving end of it. He was probably a hunter too. A big bird needed to come and pick him up and sling him far far away. You’d like that, Robin. Right?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp found himself cornered in the gym. He didn’t know why but he knew it was too early for it. In all honesty, he could probably run away but he just wanted the two dummies to tell him what he did so he could then maybe feel the need to run.

But they didn’t say anything.

And maybe he didn’t want to run.

One of them held up a phone. They brought it closer to his face. Usopp squinted his eyes, making sure he was seeing it right.

On the screen was a photograph of Demaro. He was passed out on the ground with–

Wait, were those drugs?!

But not only that, he was bruised. And his right leg was facing in an odd direction. His eyes were barely closed.

“Why are you showing me this?” Usopp asked with a confused facial expression. “If anything, I’m the wrong person you should be telling this to. I’m glad he got his ass–“

Yep. Right in the jaw. Now his sweater was going to be donning a new color. This was one of his favorites too. “Sorry,” he said with a squeak. “I meant to say I’m glad he was hospitalized. He’s hospitalized, and safe, right?”

“No, shit Sherlock,” a female voice rang out. “You stuck your fucking friend on him, and he won’t be able to move his foot for the rest of the year.”

“What friend?”

The redhead walked out from the shadows. Her hair framed her face lopsidedly, as the ponytail on top of her head fell limp. She’d stopped walking. “That Strawhat lame-shit, Luffy!” Her hands were balled up into tight fists. They remained at her side. “You just let people fight for you. You’re not a man, stupid!”

Usopp furrowed his eyebrows. “What the hell are you talking about?” He asked. His voice was dangerously low. The girl faltered a bit at his change in demeanor. Her two henchmen even took a few steps back. Usopp failed to notice. “My friends don’t do jack shit! Because I have no friends.”

The girl neared him again. Her two friends got back into position. “You don’t have balls,” she said. “Even that one bitch with the red hair slaps anyone who has a word or two–“

Usopp interrupted her with laughter.

He couldn’t let her finish her sentence when she was a liar. It took a liar to know one. He could brag and lie about 8,000 Twitch followers, but at least he looked the part. The young woman standing in front of him wanted to paint herself as this daintily beautiful woman when in fact she was the opposite. The redhead she mentioned was someone she was trying so hard to emulate, at least that’s what Usopp reckoned. This girl was a joke.

She thought he had friends.

“You’re lying,” she affirmed. “Demaro said that you and that asshole are close.”

“And remember, you know the one girl,” one of the guys, her friend, said. “The one with the red hair. She said she’d kill you if you laid–“

“Shut up!” The girl screamed. “Shut up!”

The two guys exchanged a look and shrugged.

Usopp would’ve laughed. But he was tired of laughing. Any second now, she’d realize no one was coming to save him, and they’d all be waiting for nothing. “Fuck this,” she whispered frustratedly. “Take him to the boys’ locker room.”

“Huh?” Usopp looked at the two guys the woman called on.

“Chocolat!” One of them yelled. “Chocolat, what about the wrestling boy–“

“Come on, dammit!” Chocolat screamed. Her accent was more prevalent than ever. “Just listen to me, dammit!”

Usopp felt perspiration coat his forehead. He started to shake.

Nononononono-

The guys weren’t too eager to carry him. But they hefted him up onto his feet and started walking to the locker room; ignoring his protest.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp stumbled down the steps to the gym and wiped the blood from his mouth. He breathed heavily. His head was pounding. His wrist might have already swelled. And his fist–

“Hey.” A voice stopped him. He closed his eyes briefly after letting out a frustrated sigh.

His back was turned to the person. “Yeah, what is it?” He asked.

His heart was pounding, his body stopped shaking as he willed it to. It wasn’t normal to have to walk off an injury you were afraid to explain away to the school nurse. Dr. Kureha might keep her to-go tumbler close, but she wasn’t born yesterday. She was pretty old, given she was always humming Kool & the Gang and the El Dorado Five.

“Are you okay?” The person asked. “You might want to put your shirt back on.”

Usopp rolled his eyes, his back turned to them. “Yeah,” Usopp said patiently. “I’m taking care of it.” Damn scar. She’s probably grossed out. She saw it, right?

The voice was that of a female. She sounded genuinely concerned, but after going through what he had just done. He’d prefer to avoid women as much as possible right now. His fist tightened, strengthening the hold on his sweater. “Okay,” the female said. “You should take care of it before you leave here though. Athletics start in 10 minutes, and- huh?” She suddenly stopped talking.

“Are there any school t-shirts available?” Usopp said. He’d finally turned around to face her. “For free?”

She reverted her gaze as a faint blush spread across her face. “Y- yes,” she said quietly. “Come with me.” She started walking in the direction of the closet where Usopp presumed the sports equipment was. He wasn’t as familiar with the gym as much as he should’ve been. Athletics Day wasn’t something he was particularly looking forward to. Maybe he’d convince Heracles that he was sick once that day came around. That’d be easy. He’d just have to figure out a name for the sickness.

“Are you coming?”

The girl had stopped walking. Usopp swallowed and hesitated. But nodded and said, “Yeah, I am.” He jogged over to where she was, and he followed her.

“Hm,” she said eying him curiously. “I would’ve never guessed you were an athlete.”

Usopp stopped looking through the pile of shirts. “I’m sorry?” He said.

He knew she was rolling her eyes.

“You have actual form,” she admitted. “You look…good.”

Usopp eyes widened on their own. He quickly grabbed one of the school t-shirts and slid it on. Oh shit, he thought. I need to get out of here. He stood up quickly and forced a smile.

“I’m not an athlete,” he said as he scratched the back of his head. He couldn’t see his blush. “But thanks…I guess.”

The young woman rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said, unconvinced. “It’s your business.”

She then shooed him out of the room.

He eagerly acquiesced.

Beep-beep

B- beep-beep

Usopp hid under a staircase once he was back in the hallway. The gym was suffocating and lacked air. He could finally breathe properly since his heart was tired. He took out his phone to read the message he'd been sent.

Hey, where are you?

Usopp frowned. Who the hell was this? Before he could decide whether or not to reply the bell rang. Very quickly he came out of the shadow of the staircase and walked towards the direction of his locker. He didn’t care if he skipped again, he just wanted to stop being the-guy-who-always-gets-his-ass-kicked today. He deserved a break.

He filled his quota of (taking) beatings for today. It wasn’t like he kept a log for it or anything.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp glanced at the clock on the wall.

30 more minutes until the last bell rang for today.

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison wasn’t that bad of a book. It’d kept him entertained for the last hour. Maybe he could check it out if he had more time to read. But music had been his escape for the last year or so. Books weren’t on his mind as much as movies. And even with the movies, the last movie he’d watched was the third movie in the Sniper King box set. Sniper King v Pirate King. The year of its release, it was nominated for an Academy Award in the best foreign movie category. (Usopp was part of the majority online who were certain that the Frostlandian superhero film Batman v Superman was a rip-off of said movie).

“Wait. Did you guys hear?”

It was a group of guys who’d filed into the library since they needed to study for “Vegapunk’s hard-ass test”.

“Nah, man,” another one of the boys replied. “What is it?”

“You know that one ugly bitch,” the one who asked the question replied. “With the red hair and top knot? Well, she was found in the boy’s locker room with two other guys. They were knocked–“

“Shh!”

It was the librarian.

Usopp even jumped at that. He stayed huddled behind a shelf next to the air conditioning. It was pretty humid today. He needed some way to alleviate the stuffiness.

The guys who’d been gossiping scrambled to the other side of the room to study at the computers. Usopp frowned when he thought back to their words. What were they going to say? Were they talking about–

Nah. It couldn’t possibly be them. Besides, he was pretty sure they’d left the locker room after he’d made his exit. After all, they were the ones who decided to beat him up in the boys’ locker room. Was it his fault that the trio got caught? Most certainly not. He shrugged and turned the page. Bullies weren’t smart. He’d learned that a long time ago.

He felt something vibrate against his leg. Oh, yeah. His phone. He leaned forward to grab his satchel. He sifted through it and eventually fished out his phone. He looked through the notifications.

He’d gotten another ShipsChat message from the unknown number.

He frowned. “Who keeps texting me?” He asked aloud.

The text read:

Are you at school today? Are you okay?

Usopp looked up at the ceiling with a quizzical eye.

There’d been countless. The individual had gone as far as to think that he’d spoken to them yesterday. Something about fulfilling a wish. And talking about how much “everyone” needed him.  It was weird. Maybe the person was texting the wrong number. That had to be it.

Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number.

Usopp tilted his head back and rested against the wall. It was nice to spend the rest of the day in the library. It was like a safe haven for those who needed to remove themselves from everybody in the school without committing truancy. Hell, even Spandam barely came into the library.

He felt another vibration. Instead of grabbing his phone, he glanced at his smartwatch.

This number doesn’t belong to Usopp?

Why should it matter? He didn’t take the time to respond to that. He had work in a bit, and he just needed to relax for the remaining time till school let out. No harm no foul.

He put his orange headphones on, sat back, and turned on the music. If he could live on an island simply doing this all day, he’d die a happy man. The archipelago was not enough. The country of Marilandia was not enough. The whole continent of Scholaria wasn’t enough.

Despite everyone’s reservations or begrudging acceptance towards conscription, the Marines did mean well-roundedness; he would be able to see parts of the world no one else knew. Heracles’ said he’d been to the states, or what Scholarians called, the Frostlandian fish (since the country looked like one), countless times and that it was a melting pot like here, in Scholaria.

But it’d be different. The states were a sight to see.

Usopp wiped the sweat dripping off his forehead and put a hand on his stomach.

//

He threw the bag of Jaffacakes in the trash can, exited the sophomore hallway, and walked into the bathroom.

It was empty.

Good.

He didn’t dare glance in the mirror. He instead walked into one of the stalls, got on his knees, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and he puked the wretched things out into the toilet.

Why’d the hell did he eat them? It was like eating shit all over again. Sabo wouldn’t have known how much of a wuss he was. He couldn’t even stomach chocolate.

Shit cakes.

Coward. Coward. Coward.

\\

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Den Den Nexus Update: SharpshooterShadow's Chronicles 🎯✨ Unraveling the mysteries of high school one chapter at a time. Library refuge, unexpected texts, and the ongoing saga. Stay tuned for the next twist. - 🏹 #SharpshooterShadow #HighSchoolSaga"

Chapter Text

10: thank god we survived

“We're all looking for the same thing. Yet it looks different for each of us.”

 

– Steve Orlando

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

5 years ago.

Luffy finished the last of the burger and grabbed the can of lemon-lime soda sitting next to the finished burger’s wrapper. After a few slurps and a burp, he looked at Usopp. “…So, that’s what Nami had planned,” he said. “Sanji’s gonna cook. And then we’ll go swimming after we eat.”

“That sounds like fun,” Usopp said. “I’m sure you, Nami, and the rest will have fun.” He looked down at the strawberry carbonated drink he’d bought.

It’d been pretty decent for a summer day. School was nigh but it’d be a few more weeks till it made its return. Naturally, he wasn’t looking forward to it. For Luffy, it was the same.

They sat at a picnic table, near a food truck. That was swarming with hungry customers and people.

As Usopp sipped on his soda, he was telling Luffy about something he saw on the History Channel. “…Apparently, the island had inhabited giants a long long time ago. I’ve been meaning to– “

“You don’t want to come to Nami’s birthday party.”

It wasn’t a question.

Usopp smiled (no, it wasn’t forced at all) and shook his head. “N- no,” he said. “That’s okay…” He set his strawberry soda down. Please. No questions.

He then turned around. “I’m gonna go home, now.”

Luffy frowned. “But it’s just swimming,” he said. “Do you not know how to swim?”

Usopp shook his head again. “No,” he said. “I can swim…my uncle wants me to stay home with him and do chores is all.”

Whew! That was easy. He thought. Heracles had said they’d spend all Monday working on the plants and flowers, but Usopp was just a day or 2 off. No biggie.

“So, see you,” he said with a wave before walking away.

Once he’d made it home he ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. It didn’t have much color, but it was a lot. He coughed harshly, his mind back at home. They wouldn’t find him here, would they? Heracles said he was safe, and that no one could touch him anymore. He said he’d make sure of it. He even asked his friend to send prayers just to make Usopp feel better. “No one is here to hurt me,” he whispered. “They don’t want me dead.” But what if they did? What if Luffy was just some plant? What if the older kids stuck Luffy on him so they could kill him later?

Was it all an act?

He didn’t want to die.

He sat on the bathroom floor with his back against the door. Heracles wasn’t home because he was talking to an old buddy who knew a thing or two about start-ups. Despite Heracles’ expertise in a lot of areas, the man could be extremely flaky. Who makes a stop at a gas station, nearly on empty, but forgets to fill up the tank in favor of grabbing a buy 2 get 1 for free Slurpee?

Usopp put his head in his hands and just sat still. He couldn’t go outside and face everything. How could he? He didn’t want to go swimming with everyone because they’d find out what was wrong with him. They’d see his chest, and they’d probably tell Luffy not to hang out with him anymore. Who would want their kid around someone who had a scar the size of a fist? It had finally scarred over, but the residual pain would always be there. But maybe technology could fix it.

Regardless, who needed friends? He had Merry.

With that thought, he exited the bathroom and went to the backyard of the townhome. It wasn’t the most spacious area, but it did the job for a big white fluff-ball he’d named Merry. Sure, it was a pretty odd name for a dog. But there was context behind it. Didn’t that apply to everything?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Ah!” Usopp yelled when he walked into his room.

Luffy stood in the center, his eyes wandering over the area.

“Wow,” the boy said thoughtfully. “You have a cool room.”

“What are you doing here?!” Usopp asked in alarm. “How’d you get in?!”

Luffy smiled. “I came through the window,” he said with a shrug. “It was open.”

Usopp frowned. “You can’t just come into someone’s room–“

“Why aren’t you coming to Nami’s birthday party?” His friend interrupted. He didn’t sound angry, nor was he frowning. But his stare was something else. Usopp didn’t know whether to run or lie. Luffy sounded normal.

Usopp tried for nonchalance. “Like I said, my uncle wants me to stay for–“

“But Sanji said Heracles was okay with it,” Luffy interrupted again. “Heracles said he was surprised you hadn’t mentioned it.”

Usopp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he said with a half-hearted shrug. “I have…stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

The 12-year-old boy rolled his eyes again. He wasn’t getting anywhere with his friend. Even if he were to be honest with him, Luffy wouldn’t even understand. He didn’t know anything about what it felt like to nearly drown—uhrm, die. The doctor stitched the scar up fine, but it left a noticeable scar. “I just can’t come, okay?” Usopp said annoyedly.

“You don’t want to come?” Luffy asked instead. “Why?”

“Does there always have to be a reason?”

“…”

Usopp turned around and touched the spot in his chest. It still felt as new as it did last summer. Like it was on fire. He couldn’t have fun when…when all he was reminded of today was…yeah…he couldn’t think about it. Why did Heracles not cover for him? Why didn’t he play along? “Tell Nami that I’m sorry. And I’ll–“

“You have a scar?” Luffy asked.

Usopp frowned. How did he know?

Before he could lie Luffy laughed breezily. He immediately took off his shirt.

Usopp didn’t realize his friend had removed his shirt, until turning around. Usopp froze. His eyes were wide.

“See?” Luffy said. “I have a scar too.”

Usopp quickly looked away. It wasn’t any of his business what transpired for his friend to earn that scar. He wasn’t willing to share his story, but he’d hope that Luffy’s story ended better than his own. It was gnarly (in a bad way). Of course, there’d been the scar under Luffy’s eye; that had a story involving a famous MMA fighter apparently, who Luffy looked up to. But the one on the chest? What the hell happened?

“You wanna touch it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because why?”

“Because…”

Luffy grabbed the dark boy’s hand and put it to his chest. “Here.”

Usopp swallowed nervously. He still wouldn’t look at his friend because he…he just couldn’t. Showing someone your scars shouldn’t be that easy. An ugly one at that. Luffy was too nice and innocent to just acquire something like that. Scars were made for bad people. Bad people like himself. Luffy did nothing wrong.

“It’s ugly, isn’t it?” Luffy asked after a beat, staring at him. “It is pretty annoying.”

Usopp shook his head, still not looking. “I- I’m not sure what a pretty scar looks like,” he said with a dry laugh. “All scars are ugly.” Why wasn’t his friend letting go?

Luffy laughed. “My brothers have scars too,” he said. “But they’re not ugly.”

Why was his friend like this? He wasn’t even sure if he’d call the strange boy his friend. But he was one of the first people who’d spoken to him when he’d first arrived here. There were the other ones as well. But Luffy was his age. And they were going to be at the same school. At least that was what Luffy was certain of. Usopp didn’t care. He was going to be a marine one day. Marines didn’t need friends. Marines who were captains didn’t need friends.

Luffy let go of his hand. “Well,” the straw hat-wearing boy said softly. “I don’t think your scar is ugly.” He hadn’t even seen it.

Usopp shook his head and even laughed. “It’s okay,” he said. “Thanks for lying. But you don’t have to to make me feel better.”

“But I’m not lying,” Luffy said stubbornly. His tone conveyed that there was no room for argument. “I don’t lie.”

Usopp rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he relented. “But I still can’t go swim–“

“I’ll leave my shirt on too.”

Usopp turned to look at his friend. He frowned in bemusement. “Huh?”

Luffy shrugged. “I don’t understand,” he said. “But I’ll do it. I’ll help you hide.”

Usopp's frown deepened. “I don’t hide,” he insisted. “I just have an allergy. I’m allergic to the sun.” It wasn’t like it was Luffy’s problem. The guy was his own damn species. He practically walked barefoot all day, save for some dirty water buffalo sandals hanging by a string. “Why is it a problem if I don’t come? It’s not like it matters.” Usopp turned back around to walk away.

But Luffy grabbed his arm. “It’s Nami’s birthday,” he said. “She wants you to come. You’re her friend!”

But why? Usopp thought. She’s older than me. And she says I’m annoying.

A sheet of paper stuffed in the corner of his room flashed in his mind. What if she doesn’t like her gift because it’s not expensive?

Luffy grabbed Usopp’s hand as he ran out of the room, dragging him along. “Stop thinking!” He said frustratedly. “We gotta go!” 

His shirt was back on.

“Wait!” Usopp yelled. “I need to grab her gift.” Luffy stopped and let go of his hand. “Okay. Go get it then,” he said. “Hurry.”

Usopp ran back to his bedroom and grabbed the item. It was in a light blue gift bag that had been recycled. It was one of Heracles’ old friend's gift bags that had been sent to him last Christmas.

He heard a bark.

Oh, shit. Merry.

He ran back to the living room and was met with Luffy petting the dog.

Merry was wagging her tail; eager to be petted. “You wanna pet, huh?” Luffy said to her with a giggle. “You’re pretty demanding.”

The Old English Sheepdog cooed in response. Not a care in the world. What Merry wanted, she got. Usopp crossed his arms. Of course, she had yet to meet any of his friends. He always kept her in the back of the townhome, or Heracles frequently took her out for walks when she wasn’t in Usopp’s care. “Her name is Merry,” he said. “She’s pretty friendly.”

Luffy laughed again. “She could come with us,” he said. “Nami and the others won’t mind.”

Usopp wanted to refuse. But he’d left her kinda isolated for the past month, and she really was an outgoing dog. He’d been doing her a disservice. She came when her name was called, she could do a handshake, was good at playing dead, and was a beast at frisbee despite Usopp's flimsiness. So, why couldn’t she come?

“Sure,” Usopp said after a while. “Lemme go get her leash.”

He ran to the kitchen where it hung and grabbed the leash off the hook.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Once Usopp and Luffy arrived at the beach, they walked over to three individuals who sat near a grill. A small cloud of smoke surrounded the trio. Usopp hesitated. Luffy was late because of him, and Nami was probably pissed. She’d probably be even more pissed off at the gift he provided. Usopp was certain of it.

As they approached, Marilandia music played from a waterproof music player that sat on a foldable table. The tropical melodies and New Age were sung over in Japanese and English. Merry barked as though to say hi to announce her and the boys’ arrival.

Nami turned around and waved. Despite the blazing hot sun and an overcrowded slew of people yards and yards away, she looked genuinely happy. Her eyes were squinted, and her smile bright. Her fiery hair was wet, as though she’d already taken a dip in the water. “Usopp! Luffy! You’ve arrived!” She said happily as she ran towards them, her flip flops moving soundly in the sand; squeaking.

Once she reached them, she looked down and noticed Merry. “Oh, it looks like we have a plus one!” She met Merry halfway and crouched down to pet her. As she petted the dog, Usopp glanced at the two other teenagers. The blonde one. Sanji, was noticeably (while at the same time “very discreetly”) stubbing out a cigarette with his sandal. The one with the green hair, Zoro, was asleep. He hadn’t budged.

Usopp’s eyes then landed on the set of gifts on the blanket on the sand. There were three reasonable-sized boxes (two had big hearts printed on them), and two small orange bags (both a two-tone of a darker orange and light orange). Usopp looked down at his unimpressive blue blag with Beri sign stickers scattered all over it. Maybe he should’ve just bought her jewelry from the night market in the shopping district. He could probably talk a vendor or two into letting him buy a few items at half-price.

Usopp sighed. Yeah. He’d just lie and tell her he forgot her gift, and that he would come by her house later to give it to her. But before he could even do that, Nami took it from him. “Thanks!” She said appreciatively.

Crap.

Usopp nodded. “Happy birthday,” he said as his heart dropped.

“Belated birthday,” she corrected. “My birthday was two months ago.” Oh. Right.

He waved at the guys. “Hey, Sanji,” he said. “Hey, Zoro.”

The blonde gave a faint smile. “Hey.”

Zoro was still asleep.

“Is anyone else coming?” Usopp asked. He knew Nami had an older sister. And there was the younger boy whom Luffy knew. Apparently, he was a whiz kid of some sort. He got a whole segment on the news dedicated to his genius.

Nami frowned. “Nojiko went back home…Chopper is sick…” she thought aloud. She turned to look at Sanji and Zoro. “Hey! Whaddabout your two Kendo buddies?” She asked impatiently. “Zoro!”

The green-haired teen didn’t wake up.

Sanji kicked him in the leg. “Mosshead!” He barked. “You shouldn’t ignore a lady!”

Zoro opened his eyes and glared at the blonde. “Johnny and Yosaku couldn’t come. Yosaku has the shits, and Johnny broke his leg.”

Usopp pinched himself not to laugh.

Damn, Zoro didn’t give a shit.

Nami rolled her eyes. “I guess it’s just us then,” she said to Usopp. “Happy freakin’ birthday, to me!”

Sanji walked to the grill and added a bit more seasoning to the meat as it cooked. He swatted at the flies. “I’m sorry, Nami-swan. We can always make it up for a quee–“

“Witch,” Zoro said shortly. “Should be grateful we’re celebrating anyway.”

Sanji growled. “Yeah. Says the one who acted funny when Novembre came around and no one mentioned a damn thing.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Zoro mumbled. “The fruit tart cake was dry.”

A pile of sand was dunked onto his head.

The two oldest kids got into a full-out brawl. The meat on the grill was forgotten about and the chairs were knocked over.

Sabagaki!

           Moss head!

Usopp couldn’t help but flinch as he heard the punches, curse words, and insults. Merry didn’t bark, but she started whimpering. Usopp’s hand tightened around the leash. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring her. Maybe he wouldn’t be staying after all. But before he could say anything, Nami threw a volleyball at the two fighting teens. It hit Zoro in the face. “You’re scaring the dog!” She yelled. “It’s too early for that crap! Fan i helvete!”

Luffy laughed and plopped down next to Merry on the sand. “It’s okay, Merry!” He exclaimed. “Zoro and Sanji do that all the time.”

Usopp removed the leash from her collar and walked over to the grill to save the meat. Sanji was too busy glaring at Zoro to notice that the meat was a kernel away from burning. Usopp grabbed the other mitt that was lying on the table and picked up the spatula. He flipped over the meat. This would go well with a veggie or 2. “Oh, thanks,” Sanji said as he walked over. “You didn’t have to do this- “

“It’s cool,” Usopp said easily. “You’re the only one working. Why not help?”

Sanji smiled. “Thanks.”

Before Usopp could ask if there was anything else he could do to help, Luffy called his name. “‘Sopp!”

He looked over at the straw hat. “Yeah, what?”

“Merry wants to play frisbee!”

Usopp quirked a brow. How the hell would Luffy know the canine wanted to play a game of frisbee? They sometimes played frisbee (she could indeed play, but Usopp always threw too hard).

Merry barked as though to indicate the straw hat-wearing boy got it right on the nose. Of course.

Therefore, Usopp took the frisbee out of his bag, and off they went. The rest stayed behind.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Who got me this?” Nami asked with a blank look. “Pretty half-assed if you tell me.”

“Mosshead doesn’t know how to shop,” Sanji complained. “Don’t worry Nami-swan, I bought you a well-thought- “

“She just wants money, blondie,” Zoro interjected with. “If it’s another lame love confession and- “

“Take that back, Marimo!”

“Ha. I’m right.”

Before they could get into another fight, Nami set the wood carvings down gracelessly and loudly; interrupting their burgeoning dispute. She skipped the prettiest wrapped gifts. Usopp discreetly looked over at Sanji and noticed his face fall. Damn.

“This is it?” Nami asked. She still wasn’t satisfied. “I can’t even buy gas with this.”

Luffy stopped picking his nose.

Usopp felt something plop on his arm.

He looked down.

Another booger.

His eye twitched all on its own.

“Sorry,” Luffy said. “That’s all I had. But there’s a coupon.”

“It expires in two days.”

“You can still use it.”

Nami rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she grumbled.

She looked at the last gift besides Sanji’s. It was Usopp’s.

He couldn’t help but swallow loudly. After the three others’ blunders, what if it sealed the deal? The deal that Nami’s birthday party sucked. She got two wood carvings; one was shaped like an orange (the dimensions were damn near decent), and the other a beri symbol; a lousy love confession; 50 beri and a nearly expired coupon to an all-you-can-eat buffet; and a lousy drawing.

Sorry, Nami.

The redhead picked up Usopp’s gift. She smiled, set the bag on her lap, and put her hand inside the bag. She took out a single piece of paper. Cardstock.

Usopp waited for the complaints. The declaration that let everyone know the frugal girl with the expensive taste was beyond angry.

But she was silent.

“Huh?” Sanji said. “What is it?”

Luffy leaned in, not a believer in personal space. “Hey, that’s you!” He looked at what Nami was looking at. “You’re pretty.”

“Usopp, you drew this?”

He smiled nervously. “Yeah.”

“Can you draw me?!” Luffy asked.

“Sure.”

Zoro smiled faintly. He seemed impressed too.

Nami was still silent.

Aw, man. I should’ve just given her money.

Instead of saying anything, she set it down and opened Sanji’s gifts. Damn, maybe Sanji wasn’t the only one who felt like shit. Maybe Usopp let her down too. Or at least he thought.

She opened the two bags with a heart on each of them. In the first bag, there was an orange and blue candle. It was inside a clear container, not yet opened; brand spanking new. “A candle?” She said in a not-disappointed tone. “A Lucid Candle?” She read the two words on the container.

Before Sanji could explain, Zoro let out a snort. “All that talk…and that’s all you could do– “

“Says the one who brought her two blocks of disfigured wood!” Sanji barked back. Usopp noticed his hand fly to his pants pocket like he was fiending for something.

Regardless, Usopp spoke up before another fight could break out. “Those are pretty expensive,” he said. “They’re made in the USA. They’re worth a pretty Beri coin down there.”

Nami raised a brow. “Really?”

Usopp nodded.

The 13-year-old looked thoughtful. Maybe even speechless.

Luffy frowned and looked at Usopp. “What makes it different from other candles?” He asked. “A candle’s a candle, right?”

“This candle lasts forever,” Usopp clarified. “You can add fragrance to it.”

“Wow, Sanji!” Luffy exclaimed. “Cool gift!”

Sanji mumbled something under his breath and turned around to check on the food.

Usopp frowned as he glanced at the blonde 14-year-old who stood at the grill. How the hell did he know how to grill ribs without a worry? When Usopp knew he’d (himself would) turn into a nervous wreck. The meat would be raw.

Sure, he temporarily took over due to Sanji and Zoro fighting. But it didn’t last long. He had to make himself useful, somehow.

An hour or so had passed before Sanji made a plate for each person and held it out to them. Usopp took his gratefully. “Thanks. I’m starving.”

The blonde nodded with a faint smile in return.

Usopp sat down on the sand and dug into the meal. Despite the ethics, he gave Merry a bone or two. She deserved it. Besides, one of the joys of being a dog was scraps. At least that was what Heracles said after Usopp had refused to feed Merry a few leftover bones from the community service potluck.

Luffy, who sat right next to Usopp, threw a bone to Merry. “I’m only sharing because you’re Nakama,” the boy declared. “But just this once.”

The dog made a noise that damn near sounded like an ‘okay’. Luffy could get dogs to talk, too?

Usopp gave a small snort and continued to eat his food. The potato salad was pretty tasty too.

“Hey, Usopp,” Sanji said after he’d sat down to eat. He sat near the grill. “Where’d you move from?”

Usopp continued chewing. It wasn’t like the question made him uncomfortable or anything. He was absolutely fine. It wasn’t like he was thinking up a quick lie or some way of deflecting.

Gecko Islands. Gecko Islands. Gecko Islands. But Boin was even worse. “Usoppun,” Heracles had said. “We’ll get out of the wilderness.”

And they did.

With that thought, he opened his mouth but someone beat him to it.

“Hey, deadbeats!” A voice yelled. “Didn’t know your new friend was the slingshot pansy!” Uh-oh.

Nononononononononononononono–

“Huh?” Nami said as she looked at the approaching group. “Who’re they?”

Usopp couldn’t shut down in front of his new friends. They’d drop him quicker than bird poop during the winter migration. And if he were going to be dropped, he’d like for it to be on his terms. It’d already taken him a lot to even acquiesce to Luffy’s pestering. But that was simply who the straw hat was. Even if Heracles was forcing Luffy, Nami, and the others to be his friends.

As expected, the gang who’d terrorized Usopp right when he stepped foot into town came onto the scene. Merry growled.

“Well well well,” the leader of the pack said. “It looks like y’all managed to nag him before we could.”

Sanji looked at Usopp, but the 12-year-old boy was too focused on the food on his plate. Nami rolled her eyes. She stood up at the table, where she’d been sitting across from Zoro.

“Jaws,” she said, unimpressed. It would seem that she knew who he was. “What the hell are you doing here? Doesn’t your dad still have a butt-load of debt to pay off?”

The leader, Jaws, probably hadn’t realized how beet-red his face got. It was almost as red as that nasty-looking welt on his forehead. It’d bruised. I didn’t think I got him that good, Usopp thought. Maybe red dates are the perfect replacement for pebbles.

“Shut the hell up?” Jaws yelled. “You don’t know shit!”

Nami harrumphed with a “tch” escaping from her lips. “Whatever.”

“It’s okay Jaws,” one of the other bullies said. It was a girl. “A klepto is a klepto.”

Nami stepped forward fast, “Why you– “

Zoro grabbed her shoulder. When the hell did he wake up? “Don’t waste your time on them. We can move the party elsewhere.”

“Someone in this group has some sense,” Jaws said with a smirk. “Now we won’t have to waste our strength on these– “

“When did this become pirates and marines?” Usopp suddenly asked.

Usopp shut up. What’re you doing? Shut up.

“This isn’t your turf. There’s literally half the city’s population a few feet away. Get over yourself.”

Silence.

Whew! I did good! Usopp thought. My voice didn’t even shake–

He felt something hit his jaw and he blacked out.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp!

            Oi, get up! You’re not dead.

                                                 On my birthday of all days. Good thing one of them dropped their wallet…Usopp, wake up.

                                                                                                   Usopp! ‘Sopp! C’mon! We still have time to play!

                                                                                                                                                                                                             Ruff ruff!

Usopp slowly opened his eyes as 5 pairs of eyes came into his view. 1 pair was closer than the rest. But his group of…friends (it still sounded foreign) looked down at him. Zoro and Sanji wore masks of indifference. Nami’s eyebrows were creased as though she were concerned (yeah right), and Luffy looked a bit angry. Damn, Usopp thought. Did I really mess up?

He was then quickly yanked off the ground.

“Luffy!” Sanji exclaimed. “He just got knocked out! Be careful– “

“Blondie’s right,” Zoro agreed. “Nami, where’s the ice?”

Merry barked happily.

Her owner was alive most importantly.

Sluggishly, Usopp was able to get his bearings somewhat straight.

He finally noticed a few bodies lying a few feet away. Some of the guys were still awake, but it was obvious they’d gotten the wind knocked out of them. Groaning and breathing heavily. Split lips. Dirtied faces. Scratches. They all looked like the hyphenated word: ass-kicked.

Every bit of it.

Zoro noticed his gaze. “They’ll be alright,” the teen affirmed. “They can’t do anything.” …to you. And they better not try—goes left unsaid.

Usopp didn’t notice.

His eyes were on the flipped-over chairs and ruined volleyball net. Fortunately, the food remained untouched.

Nevertheless, Nami’s party was ruined…because of him.

Usopp was a shitty friend.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was nearing midnight by the time everyone was bundled up in a sleeping bag or buried in spare blankets and covers. Marilandia’s blockbuster global hit of the summer was playing on the screen, the credits rolling; the movie finished.

Everyone was asleep, except for Usopp. He’d sat up and looked next to him, at Merry’s sleeping form, who Luffy was wrapped around and all over.

Who was Merry’s owner again?

Zoro slept on the other side of the room, against the wall, sitting up. And Sanji slept in the corner of the room, on his side.

Despite having to leave the beach early, everyone elected to just chill at Nami’s and watch movies. Sanji made a mean whipped cottage cheese dip, and Nami had the whole movie collection of the Sora, Warrior of the Sea movie series. Sanji got a little grumpy and mumbled, “I’d rather watch that shitty samurai series Moss for Brains is obsessed with,” before a fight broke out between him and the 13-year-old kendo nut.

Regardless, “Nami-swan” got what she wanted (after she used a spray bottle on the fighting boys like they were misbehaving animals), and that was that.

Usopp stepped out of the living room and into the kitchen. He walked to a cabinet, and after a few fails; opening and closing many empty cabinets, he was able to open a cabinet that was full of colorful glass cups. He grabbed one and walked over to the faucet.

“There’s filtered water in the pitcher next to the toaster.”

Usopp jumped. “H- huh?” He turned around and noticed a lone figure sitting at a coffee table. Nami?

She pointed at something.

His eyes landed on the curved container with a handle. He mumbled a ‘thank you’ and poured himself a drink of water. He looked over at his friend. “You need a drink?” He asked. “I can pour you one.”

She shook her head. “Nah, but thanks,” she said with a smile, but obviously, her mind was elsewhere. She was looking at a few envelopes. Despite how dim the room was, to Usopp, she looked much older than 13. Didn’t she have a mother?

You have one too, Usopp. But is she still here? In your life? Breathing, and well?

I don’t know, he replied to the voice inside his head. I don’t know.

“Usopp?”

He snapped out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” Nami asked.

He took note of the 13-year-old girl’s facial expression. She looked concerned.

What did Usopp give away?

Instead of answering her question, he simply said, “I’m sorry.”

She frowned.

He said the wrong thing again.

“I’m sorry about your birthday being ruined,” he said in more detail. “They had a bone to pick with me, not you– “

“Really?” Nami said with a laugh. “You think those idiots were just after you?”

Usopp wordlessly nodded.

Nami sighed with an eye roll. “Usopp. You’re smart.” She pointed towards the living room. “Do you think those three ever stay out of trouble? Just think about it for a minute. Really think about it.”

Usopp thought back to Zoro and Sanji’s frequent fights to Luffy immediately declaring he’d “kick whoever's ass decided to beat up Usopp” a couple of days ago when Usopp had come over with a bleeding lip; it was a very long story. Either thing wasn’t the best reference, but all three obviously were easy to jump into a fight when angered or pressed.

“Yeah,” Usopp agreed. “It doesn’t look like they stay out of trouble.”

Nami smiled. “See? It wasn’t your fault. My birthday wasn’t ruined. One of the bullies even gave me money for my birthday.”

Oh, boy. Leave it to Nami to decide that taking a wad of cash from someone else’s wallet is someone giving it to her. But if he ignored the semantics, Usopp could understand where she was coming from.

Besides, she was happy. That was all that mattered.

Satisfied, Usopp turned to put his cup in the sink, but Nami stopped him. “Hey, wait a minute.” Huh?

She stood up and walked outside onto the patio. Usopp followed.

Harmony Haven was the hottest and rainiest this time of year. But it wasn’t quite as sticky as Syrup. Nami’s tangerine tree stood tall and proud, glowing underneath the sky; it was fragrant.

“Here.”

Usopp looked at Nami who held out to him a pair of binoculars. He gave her a quizzical facial expression but took them nonetheless. She grabbed a pair that sat on the table. “Look,” she said as she pointed up at the sky. “You can’t see it. But the Hercules Cluster is up there.” She motioned for him to use his binoculars.

Usopp looked through them.

At first, he didn’t see anything. Sure, he saw the stars, but not the Hercules Cluster. “I’m not sure what to look for,” he admitted. Maybe he’d have to lie so she wouldn’t punch him.

Nami sighed exasperatedly. “You’re looking at it right now,” she said frustratedly. “It’s the shiniest star. One big dot. But it’s a cluster of tiny stars. See?”

Usopp tried again. Beyond everything, if he couldn’t navigate properly or develop a good eye for looking at faraway objects, then could he join the weapons division in the Marines? He was the Great Captain Usopp, of course.

After a bit of adjusting, he could see a bluish-looking star. It was more luminous than the rest; standing out among the majority. It made the sky beautiful. He would have promised his mother the Hercules Cluster if it meant she’d come back. But would it have been enough?

“You know,” she’d said that night, unaware of him watching. “If you couldn’t give me the sky, then why’d you even try?”

Because you deserve the world, ma.

“You see it?” Nami asked. Usopp’s thoughts vanished. He’d been silent for too long.

“Yes,” he answered, genuinely in awe. “It’s nice. A cluster of stars you say?”

“You betcha,” she said. “You can only see them around this time.”

Usopp didn’t know how long he gazed up at the sky. The cluster glistened and shined, and Nami shared with him a secret. Maybe Sanji, Zoro, and Luffy knew of the cluster. But it was as though Usopp was given a pass to enter into a world Nami liked to escape to. She mentioned something about geocaching when Heracles asked her what she did for fun around here. She had stopped by the store for her usual order. She had to make a living. But that couldn’t possibly be a 13-year-old girl’s responsibility without any help. Right?

He set his binoculars down and caught Nami’s stare. His face warmed, a bit caught off guard. Shit.

Instead of saying anything, Nami grabbed his hand and walked over to the bench. It matched the patio. She dropped his hand and motioned for him to sit right next to her on the bench. It was quiet. Usopp sat down and didn’t dare meet Nami’s gaze. Did she know? Did she know about his mother–

Nami laughed and threw her arm around him. It was that easy. As expected, she smelled like citrus. Maybe it was her shampoo.

“Thank you, Usopp.”

“Huh?”

She didn’t say anything else. She looked up at the night sky and he thought of someone else then. Nami’s skin became paler and her hair lighter. Much lighter.

He opened his mouth but closed it right after. Nami didn’t care too much for his stories. He could tell. But how else could he keep her entertained? After today, would she still feel obligated to invite him to hang out? He was the annoying bratty new kid.

If she’d figured out he’d eaten shit before…

She wouldn’t want to be his friend.

Same with the rest.

“Can you tell me a story about the sea?”

Usopp frowned. “Huh?”

The 13-year-old girl shrugged and looked back at him. The smile was lovely. “I heard from a certain moron that you tell a good story,” Nami said with a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe you aren’t full of lies.”

Usopp laughed. “I’ve not told one,” he insisted. “I really did fight off an army of angry junkyard cyborgs and blew off one of their noses. They were a terrible group of specimens!”

Nami made a sound of agreement.

She was listening.

He kept going.

“But lemme transition my story,” he said. “There was a weather goddess who went out to sea, in search of treasure. But secretly she wanted to make a map of the world…”

They both didn’t end up going to bed until 4 in the morning. But for Usopp, to see his friend laugh and smile, it was worth it. Even 13-year-olds who had to grow up fast still believed In fairytales. Why do you think he continued to tell stories to himself?

Easy. He’d like to think that whatever happened back in Syrup was all just make-believe.

And for that, he could survive.

Chapter Text

11: scent

“But if you look at history the great men and women of the world have always been defined by their enemies”

 

– Lex Luthor

 

 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

\\

“Don’t touch me.”

“Boo.”

“I said don’t touch me.”

“C’mon. I don’t judge.”

“…”

//

70 hours ago.

Chocolat angrily wiped the dry-erase marker off her face. She sat in the back office of the yearbook room, with a compact mirror in front of her face. The door was closed. If not, Tashigi would be on her ass.

But she could hide in here for a bit. She’d managed to evade the asshole’s friend who so happened to be the other reigning queen of the yearbook club. Chocolat angrily cursed as she thought of not only the girl grabbing her hair and slamming it against the wall but of the boy too. Of course, she’d been caught off guard by his chocolate abs, after all, she hadn’t expected that to be underneath his uniform, at all. She couldn’t believe he’d been hiding such perfect ab–

She shook her head angrily. Shit. She couldn’t think those things when he’d pulled a fast one on her and her cronies. Who knew he could untie himself? Not only that, he was pretty resourceful with a few tricks up his sleeve. She rubbed at the mark on her leg, underneath her skirt. She was gonna get him next time. They were just getting–

“She’s in here,” she heard a familiar voice say. “Marguerite told me she ran off.”

“Good,” another voice followed. “Me and her need to have a little talk.”

Chocolat quickly stood up. Oh, shit.

She glanced at the spot behind the desk. Maybe she could–

The door opened.

It was the yearbook club’s business manager, Nami. She didn’t look very happy. Brown eyes ablaze.

Chocolat swallowed loudly.

She wasn’t scared. Nami caught her off guard last time. She could fight the witch this time. Those self-defense courses–

“Vivi,” Nami said distractedly, her eyes still on Chocolat’s. “Lock the door. If Tashigi shows up, tell her I can’t be bothered.”

The exchange student nodded. “Absolutely.”

Nami glared at Chocolat before she looked at the other girl, Carrot. “Hand me the bottle.”

Chocolat’s eyes widened on their own. She couldn’t control her reaction. Tears were already making their way down her cheeks. “I- I’m sorry,” she said with a tremble in her voice. “I didn’t touch him, I swear!”

Nami smiled too cheerfully. But her eyes immediately narrowed. “I’m glad you’re able to be honest this time around.” Carrot had placed a bit of–was that glass cleaner?–into Nami’s hand.

“Grab her,” Nami said to Carrot. “Put the rag in her mouth.” Chocolat stood up this time. “Please!” She started to plead desperately. Her knees were on the ground, and her hands were in prayer. She looked up at Nami.

Nami shook her head and stepped forward. “I’ll make you talk.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

70 hours later.

Per usual, Usopp set his tray of food down and slid it away from him. He wasn’t eating the tin-can-made-ready nachos. For a so-called prestigious international school with an expensive tuition, the lunch was lousy. Maybe most of the school funds went toward renovations, curriculum, and field trips. Why else would they serve food-made-to-kill to the student body?

Oh, well. Heracles promised chicken alfredo (without mushrooms) tonight. Usopp had worked so hard this week, his uncle felt he’d deserved it. That was exactly what Heracles told him. The slight sprain in his wrist and ankle told him so. Iced baths were overrated.

Just as he’d put on his headphones he caught a football. He would be lying if he said his still-tender wrist didn’t hurt. But visualizing the impact of a brown leather ball, shaped like an orecchiette noodle, was what made his wrist the least priority. So, once he caught the football with one hand, he absentmindedly threw it back.

He whispered the words to the rap song he was listening to and drank the bottle of water he got from the vending machine.

Same as what happened a few minutes before, he caught a can of soda that was hurled towards him. “What the hell?” Usopp said as he took off his headphones. He looked in the direction from where the soda came and immediately made eye contact with one of Kumacy’s weirdo friends.

Of course.

He set the empty can on the table and put his headphones back on. Whatever. Their pack leader was done for and they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Typical.

It seemed that you had to bark orders at them for them to do one’s dirty work, like, say, for instance, executing an acid attack. They’d been out in the fucking open, yet they managed to escape unnoticed.

//

                                                                                                      “He’s a Cyclops now!”

“Kumacy, don’t be so loud. It isn’t cute.”

                                                                                                   “You still owe me.”

“Yeah. I know. Designer drugs aren’t easy to come by. Gimme time.”

                                                                                                                                                                                “Siyobe, you promised you’d have them by tonight– “

“I’m already risking it by being seen with you. Shihan-sensei won’t look past this– “

                                                                                                                                                                                   “If he knew how much of an evil bitch– “

                                                                                                                                                                                                                            “Did you just punch me?”

“I’m cute,” the visual kei-wannabe said. “I’m not a bitch. You are.”

\\

“Food fight!”

Usopp didn’t hear anything. He was so caught up in his bubble of rhythm and rhyme. So ahead of my time, even when I rhyme about the future, I be reminiscin’.

Splat!

The 17-year-old jumped in his seat. Something that seemed to be a mixture of salsa and chili (“nacho toppings”) landed on the table. The substance stared back at him, and suddenly he was ill.

It was time to go.

As people threw food, Usopp was on the ground crawling. His eyes roamed the room looking for cover.

Suddenly a hand covered his arm and pulled him to crawl underneath the table. Right as he found cover, a huge splat of ketch up landed right where he’d been. He smiled and turned to thank the person who’d helped him. But he almost scrambled away when he saw the same charcoal-colored eyes and black cat eyeliner he was trying to avoid.

Before he could even say anything, she yanked him by the collar and kissed him right on the lips. It was eager but soft. Warm lips found his and he was still. She pulled back and smiled at him. “You’re cute. I like you,” she said. “I want to be with you.”

He was still silent. But she apparently didn’t care because she went in for another kiss, and he returned it...hesitantly. It was a slow kiss, but it was sensual enough to make him blush. He pulled away to hide the fact that he might end up having to take a cold shower (when there wasn’t a shower around to begin with). Her face was just as flushed but she didn’t try to hide it. After all, she was smitten.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” You stole my first kiss, is what he wanted to say. But he had a mission to uphold. She was calculating and evil. People were a game to her, and he was willing to dish out what she did to others. How could she put on this “woe’s me” act when she’d planned on sabotaging someone he cared about?

Before either person could speak, they heard the high-pitched sound of a megaphone.

“I will find whoever started this!” Spandam yelled. “I’m looking at six people already!”

Usopp felt a pair of lips on his once more. It was short and gentle. “Meet me during Study Hall,” she said. “If you can’t, I’ll come to you.”

Usopp’s eyes remained on hers for a bit, but she eventually dipped out. But not before giving him one last kiss on the cheek. He’d never been kissed like this. He wasn’t even sure if he liked it.

As the rest of the student body filed out of the room, Usopp made eye contact with a pair of grey eyes. They were sharp and cold. But if you looked closely. Very close, you could see the slightest hint of concern. But Usopp didn’t recognize the concern. What Usopp recognized was the silent questioning of why he was willing to interact with Perona at all. She was part of the Pom-Squad, and she had a whole page in the yearbook dedicated to her artwork, and yet…

Usopp forced his eyes away from the pair of grey ones.

He wholeheartedly considered himself a crappy friend. He knew that. He’d wave that flag high. That was why he didn’t have any friends, to begin with, and he very well was gonna let it stay that way. Because every time he got anywhere close to having them, it’d get dark for them. A dark myriad of clouds would suffocate them, and he could only leave, so the sunshine could come through to dry up all the rain he’d brought them. He didn’t want them to get caught up in anything having to do with him because he was truly meant to be alone.

Usopp filed out with the rest of the students. He couldn’t look at a former friend who was even more honorable than him. What was honor?

Did it matter?

Right as he entered the hallway and walked towards his locker, he was slammed into one. But this time someone was screaming in his ear. “You fucking piece of shit!”

Usopp turned his head and came face to face with some guy from his physics course. He wasn’t familiar with him. Usopp knew that because he couldn’t remember the guy’s name. The guy was too busy screaming in his face.

“You fucking coward!”

Maybe it was some guy Kaku pissed off. So it seemed, Kaku and this one guy from The Key Club wanted to kill each other. Kaku was a by-the-books guy. Oh, and not to mention, people were under the impression that he and Usopp shared a resemblance, despite the contrast in skin tone, hair texture, hair color, personality, and well- everything.

Yet, the only thing they had in common was their nose shape…Usopp presumed as much as digressed?

“I can’t believe you would snitch!” The bully said in anger. “You think you’re some hotshot because you’ve got connections!”

Usopp furrowed his eyebrows. What did he mean by connections? He always felt like he was missing something. Either way, Usopp laughed nervously and shook his head. “I- I don’t get what you mean.”

The guy grabbed Usopp by the back of the head and slammed his face into the locker. It was hard and fast. He didn’t even cry out in pain. His nose dripped red, his eyes watered, and his head was a banging conundrum of “hurts like hell,” but other than that he was good. The Great Captain Usopp could take a little pain and walk it off like a champ. Clearly, the guy had mistaken Usopp for some other person he truly had a bone to pick with.

“I don’t care what anyone fucking says,” the guy whispered in his ear. “You’re not as much of a wimp as people think you are.” He rammed Usopp’s head against the locker again. “Watch your back Longnose.” With that, the guy walked off like nothing happened.

Despite the blatant stares from his peers, Usopp didn’t have it in him to cover his face. He was immune to all of what he saw. The only thing he could be grateful for this time around was that he wasn’t thrown into a locker.

He then heard Spandam and his megaphone. “What’s everyone doing in the hall?!” He made crazy hand motions and pointed his finger at different students. His eyes then landed on Usopp. If I were to run, would he run after me?

Right as Spandam put the speaking trumpet to his mouth to yell at the boy, someone grabbed Usopp’s hand and started dragging him down the hall. Usopp startled, could barely keep himself upright without tripping. “Chopper?” He said.

The polymath tugged on his hand some more. “C’mon, Usopp!”

He nodded and let his peer drag him to where ever. And wherever that was became the nurse’s office.

Dr. Kureha must have not been in, because Chopper was chiefly doing her job. None of the office or administration ever caught onto his actions, nor did Dr. Kureha ever acknowledge them. If all (if Usopp were to guess), she was either on the phone and getting more “coffee”, or skipping work. He wanted to ask Chopper about her absence but kept mum.

Why?

Because Chopper hated him.

“I don’t understand why you don’t come here when you get all banged up,” his peer said with a worried gaze. “You take so many hits, you’ve probably walked around with more concussions than you’ve realized.”

Usopp laughed. “Maybe I’m the Million Dollar Man.”

Chopper didn’t smile at that.

In the face of everything, there was a place inside himself where Usopp hoped his peer would play along. Because if there’s anything Usopp appreciated about the impressionable young man, it was that he’d never seem to lose interest when it came to Usopp’s stories and ramblings. Luffy had been pretty good at that too but his attention span was a thing of its own and sometimes, admittedly, infectious. Mr. Patty wasn’t being so far-fetched when he said that Sanji was losing brain cells by just being in Luffy’s presence. Usopp had almost failed Algebra, thanks to him.

“Here.” Chopper gave him an ice pack and a cotton wipe. He walked over to the sink to fill up the glass sitting next to it. “Usopp,” he said. “Despite, you know, everything. You know I never refuse to help people out. Especially those I care about.”

Maybe Chopper was a lying champ.

Of course, Usopp thought. But I want you to. Because people like me are meant–

“Chopper?”

The wunderkind and Usopp turned to the door. It was one of the several exchange students that attended the prep school.

Her name was Nefertari Vivi.

Despite wearing a hijab, he could still see her blue hair poking out.

She waved politely. “Um, hi.”

Usopp exchanged a look with Chopper. “What’s it you need?” The walking brainbox asked her.

She blushed. “I was um, making sure…”

There were a couple of beats. Spit it out.

Suddenly, as though she’d run out of an excuse, she intentionally made eye contact with Usopp. “I was making sure you were okay.”

Usopp gave her a confused look. “Me?” He said pointing at himself. “Why would you need to see if I was okay?”

Chopper growled. “Because stupid,” he said in exasperation. “You’re always getting beat up.”

Vivi frowned with a hand on her hip. “Usopp,” she said. “Believe it or not, we all care.”

There it was again. We.

What did she mean by we?

There was no we.

“Drink this,” Chopper said after successfully cleaning the glass. “You need to rinse out the blood.”

Usopp rolled his eyes but listened anyway. There was nothing worse than an angry Chopper. He was pretty heavy-handed.

Vivi continued to stand there and watch him get treated. Usopp still didn’t know why. But he’d entertain her nonetheless. “What grade did you make on the Chem test?” He asked.

She smiled. “I made a B-,” she replied. “Asef. Not everyone is a chem genius.”

Usopp laughed. “Vivi,” he said tiredly. “Ms. Monet is a bitch, but her class isn’t that hard.”

The young woman gave a small chuckle. “Then can I sit by you?” She asked. “Sitting in front doesn’t help as much as I thought it would.”

“Um…” He hesitated. “Yeah. Uh, sure.”

Her face brightened.

He inwardly groaned.

“Ahh!” Chopper screeched. “Why’s there blood on your thigh?!”

“Huh?” Usopp looked down. Oh. Shit.

He forgot.

Dammit dammit dammit.

“It’s nothing,” Usopp tried. “Believe it or not, I’m a klutz.”

Instead of Chopper even entertaining his words, his peer said, “Did you and Luffy fight again?”

If Usopp was on the outside looking in, he would’ve seen how white his face turned. It was a marvel, indeed. “Fight?” He said back. “I- I– “

“He said that you wanted to start hanging out with everyone again,” Chopper said, barely hiding the waver in his voice. “What happened?”

What happened?

“What are you– “ Usopp cut himself off. “I mean, I- I never said that.”

Yes, despite always digging himself into several holes, he could never get used to the facial expression Chopper wore just then. He couldn’t get used to it, regardless of who wore the facial expression. It was a mixture of disappointment, annoyance, and sadness.  Why hadn’t he gotten used to the damn facial expression?! Because you’re a coward with a nasty habit. You can’t keep lying to yourself. Dummy.

Before Chopper could speak, the door opened. “Well, what do we have here?”

It was Dr. Kureha. As always, she donned some funky eyewear and a devil-may-care grin. Yet, she wore her hair in a neater style than he was used to. Maybe she was seeing someone.

Vivi gave a polite bow, and Usopp waved. He could get out now. Chopper’s handiwork was more or less complete and he had class. So…

“What’s with the blood?” Kureha asked as she set her tumbler down on her desk. She hadn’t sat down. “Who the hell did you piss off?”

Usopp was a frequent target. But damn. He didn’t expect it to be thrown in his face like that. Yet, Kureha wasn’t the friendliest person, given he’d spent a night at Chopper’s a few times in the past, and she’d yell at them for staying up too late on a Friday night; or make them stay at the table if they didn’t finish a meal that was a result of her abysmal cooking. There was also that one time she’d forced him down when she was trying to pop his shoulder back into place, and he’d insisted he could take care of it himself. (Falling from a tree doesn’t kill you. But it’s still one son of a bitch). Luffy had dealt with the new concussion like a champ.

“I was trying to take something off a shelf,” Usopp said easily. “I hurt my leg.”

Dr. Kureha looked at him for an exceedingly long time.

“Usopp!” Chopper whined. “You have to be careful. Did you even attempt to apply first– “

“Bullshit,” Kureha interjected. “Was it self-defense or training?”

Usopp’s blood ran cold.

How could she possibly have some vague idea of what the hell was going–

“Auntie,” Chopper said. “Usopp hurt himself- “

She laughed. Her attention was on her tumbler. “Wrap it up in gauze. Then he can leave.”

Usopp remembered how to breathe.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Really. He hadn’t done anything. He wasn’t guilty at all.

But the three brawny hell-raisers didn’t care about the details. They only cared about the first person they saw in their wake after the unknown assailant caught them in the act. What act? Who knows? He’d walked into the bathroom and he found both of them in a stall. At first, he hadn’t heard or seen anything. Nada. Zilch.

But Usopp guessed trying to take a cool-ass selfie in the mirror (even though you didn’t have anyone to send it to or anywhere to post it on) had terrible consequences. Given he’d looked in the mirror, took out his phone, and- click!

It was loud too.

Next thing you knew he was running for his life. The last class was in session for the day, and in typical Spandam fashion, he wasn’t present when it counted. How much did he, to all intents and purposes, actually get paid to do his job? But did it matter? Seriously.

Usopp had turned the corner and stopped to catch his breath. Why was he running?

Seriously. Why was he running?

“Hey!”

“He’s over there!”

Usopp looked back and saw the two guys running toward him once more. They looked even angrier. They’d gotten faster.

He ran.

Eventually, it’d come down to one thing.

He’d run up the steps and come stumbling out onto the roof of the school. The sun barely peeking out behind the clouds. The air smelled like the outdoors; nothing distinct.

Now, sweaty and winded, Usopp stood at the edge of the roof.

The three guys wanted him there.

So, all in all, maybe there wasn’t a way out. It was the two upperclassmen, himself, the roof, and the ground. He could try to run forward and just deal with it, but was it worth it? Up to this point, he’d lost a lot. Of course, he had Heracles, but he knew the man would be okay. The thing about his uncle was that people like him were always able to adapt to any situation they were in. Heracles did have an unmatched survival instinct that was far superior to any survivalist brawn on the Discovery channel or Animal Planet (Les Stroud had nothing on him). But Heracles could also easily befriend those who crossed his path.

That was what Heracles did.

That was what Heracles did to him. He befriended a scrawny ass boy and let him come along for the ride.

But maybe he wasn’t enough for Heracles. Maybe Usopp would never be able to confirm that with the old geezer, but he’d bet his life on it.

Usopp smiled.

He was brave dammit. He could stand on the very edge of this building and not feel a damn thing. This was freaking power. He could read those bastards’ faces, their mouths shaped in an O, probably thinking, “Is this son of a bitch crazy?”

Maybe he was. After all, who’d he learn it from? Someone who was crazier.

Giggling and sticking his tongue out at the two nimrods, Usopp spread his arms wide open and fell back.

This was bravery, right? Falling off a building, willingly, without a care?

Damn, it felt good to be free.

Chapter Text

12: silent hill

“Your powers are what you always have with you. It’s one piece of knowledge we all share here. No matter how many dossiers the government keeps on you, no matter what data your enemies have collected, no one knows your powers the way you do…”

 

– Austin Grossman

a year and a half ago.

It was a pretty wild night in Little Loguetown. The richest neighborhood in the enclave. It was about a few hours away from Harmony Haven, the archipelago’s capital city. The influencer and ex-boxing champion Buggy the Star Clown (@WarlordBuggy on his socials) sat on an elaborate couch with his posse's left and right wings nearby.

The 30-something-year-old retiree threw back shot after shot as the night grew darker and darker. One of his favorite songs blared from the DJ booth.

“Here,” the clown said as the delivery boy handed the take-out box to a posse member. “Your tip.”

“Aw, man!” The delivery man said as he took the block of cash. “You’re a real G, Buggy!”

The recipient of the compliment laughed and waved the young man’s words away. “You’re too kind!” He said with intentional faux pas. “I’ve wanted to give back to the poor for a while.” Buggy took the small martini from one of the servers as he maintained eye contact with the delivery man. “There’s always a give and take of things, huh?”

The delivery man’s smile fell from his lips. Maybe it was because Buggy called him “dirt fucking poor”, or maybe it was truly the “give and take of things”. But what did that mean? If the delivery man played his cards right, maybe he’d find out. Very red pill indeed. After all, there was nothing hidden being Buggy’s smile, besides the red adorning his lips.

“Uh…” the young man paused with a shaky smile. “Thank you for the tip. But you shouldn’t have-“

“Oh, please!” Buggy gushed. “Please, take it!” He laughed.

The delivery man noticeably swallowed. He was undoubtedly nervous. The clown smiled even wider.

“My boss won’t–“

“Oh, shut it!” Mohji, a posse member, interrupted. “Just take the damn money! You’re dirt poor, obvs.”

The delivery boy pocketed the cash and nodded with a grim look. “Uh, y- yeah.”

Buggy laughed manically. Oh, boy. He indeed made this son of a bitch nervous! Too bad he meant none of it. He was flirtatious with everyone. It didn’t matter who he’d end up sleeping with tonight, it was his damn party.

Once the boy was ushered out, Buggy downed the rest of the martini, and soon picked up the bottle of ale in front of him. “Someone go get me another bottle.”

The bottle was taken out of his hand. Buggy didn’t give the person a mere glance, he was focused on the chandelier above him. It was sparkling even brighter than it’d ever been. The lights were infused with diamonds, the exterior of the chandelier a bright red. He’d had it custom-made like all the expensive things in life he’d managed to acquire through luck alone. Through good showmanship.

“So,” one of the girls across from him said. “Would you ever try to go one-on-one with Chaser, again?”

Buggy had been reaching for one of the buffalo wings on a plate when he was asked that question. He was utterly still. “Excusez-moi?”

She still wore a saccharine smile.

He wanted to fucking puke.

“Va te faire foutre!” He cursed as he stood up. “Get out!”

The woman and her friend looked at each other. She looked back at the retired boxer and forcefully put back on that saccharine smile. But this time it was more shit-eating. Buggy squinted his eyes as though he were hissing. “Get out, bitch!”

“B- but, I was just wanting to–“

“Je m’en fous!”

The woman creased her eyebrows. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I- I won’t ask that again–“

Quickly, a pair of bodyguards came and dragged the woman away once she began to grovel. Buggy laughed at her tenacity. “Get her friend too!”

The man of the hour sat back down. He took the chicken wings off the plate and angrily took a bite out of one. His jaw worked fast. What’d she mean by going one-on-one with that bastard again? Chaser was a fucking joke. Thank goodness he never had any offspring. Buggy was positive he’d go and kill his spawn. People like Chaser deserved to be fed to the wolves.

Very conveniently, Cabaji came back with the alcohol. Great.

The party was gonna be even better.

Cabaji handed him a little ziplock bag, a credit card, and a few Beri bills. Buggy locked eyes with him.

“Why are you giving me this?” The former boxing champ asked. His tone was quiet and less…smug.

“Because you asked- “

“I never said to bring me this,” Buggy said as calmly as ever. “What makes you think I do this shit anymore?”

Cabaji frowned. “But you said– “

Buggy punched him right in the nose. “I said I wanted *Mary Jane. Not Charlie.”

Some of the party-goers hardly batted an eye. Why would they when they were allowed to party with the star clown? Meanwhile, Cabaji had the gall to hand him “this shit” right out in the open. As though “inconspicuous” wasn’t a word, and Buggy didn’t pay him double the amount equivalent to a world-famous doctor’s yearly salary.

Buggy didn’t hire cheap help.

Cabaji held his bleeding nose and nodded. “My mistake, Mr. Buggy,” he affirmed. “Never again.” He gave a bow and walked away to get rid of “Charlie”.

The party continued.

“Hey,” Buggy said in a daze. His latest bottle of alcohol had him in a hold. Damn. This must’ve been the real shit. He looked at the big bottle of name-brand liquor. “Mohji, give me another one of these.”

His right-hand man wasn’t anywhere around. He wasn’t on the couch next to him, or anywhere nearby entertaining either sex. When the hell did I tell him to turn in early for tonight? He thought. I’m cutting his paycheck.

The influencer stood up. “Mohji!” He yelled. “Get your ass over here!”

The music was too loud.

He was tired of Uta. Lady Gaga sounded nice right now. He’d ask Cabaji to put on some of her tunes once he came back from disposing of the drugs.

He then sat back down and started flirting with the ladies on the sofa beside him.

As the night war on, it got quieter. Fewer people surrounded Buggy, and–

SLAM!

                         Pew!

Pew- peeew!

Screams.

The music cut off.

The very few guests remaining dashed.

Amongst it all was a masked figure donning a red hoodie. The hood was up and the ski mask covered the entire head.

Buggy knew he, himself, was probably halfway to black-out drunk (Mohji finally brought him a bottle of liquor) but he was positive he wasn’t a lightweight. He wasn’t.

Because why in the hell would this individual be just standing there? They'd hardly said a word. No. They hadn’t said a word at all.

Where the hell were the bodyguards? Did Buggy send them home early?

“Who the hell are you?!” Buggy asked as he downed a glass of Good ol' Sailor Vodka. “The delivery boy has already come by.” He motioned for Cabaji to pour him another drink. “Skedaddle, now.”

The figure didn’t move for a long time.

Buggy ate a wing on the plate in front of him. Once he threw the finished bone on the plate he looked at the figure. This time the figure tapped their chin, as though they were deliberating over Buggy’s words. After about a sec, the figure shrugged and shook their head. No.

Buggy frowned. “Then what the hell do you want?” He asked. “You can’t just crash my party for something–“

“Important,” the figure cut in with. They were unquestionably a male. “I’m here for something important.”

Buggy relaxed and leaned forward. “I see,” he said. “So, you’re a fan.”

The man laughed. “Hell no.”

Mohji stepped forward. “Why, you–“

Buggy held up his hand. His assistant shut up instantly. “Then maybe you should leave?” He squinted his eyes. “I don’t want any trespassers. Or I’ll call the–“

The young man laughed again. “Whatever, Rednose,” he said. “You’re a fucking joke!” It was a kid. He sounded young. Not very young. But young enough to pull this shit in the middle of the night.

“What’d you say?” The celebrity asked as he immediately sobered. His blood began to boil. He could feel Mohji and Cabaji get stiff. But Buggy didn’t care. “What’d you fucking call me?!”

The boy shrugged. “Did I offend you, Rednose?”

Buggy stood up. “Do you want to fucking die?!”

“Fuck you!” The kid cursed. “You red-nosed bastard.”

Buggy ran forward.

Everything happened in slow motion it seemed. As he neared the boy, something shot out of his hand. It was quick. So quick, he wasn’t sure of it at first. Regardless, he was blindsided. The thing the kid shot out landed on his knee, and he couldn’t move. What the fu–

Before he could tell any of his men to move, Cabaji was already on it. He took out a Glock and shot. But the young man evaded it with a flip. As he jumped up and flipped, something else came tumbling down.

Buggy blanched.

How did his two prized Jan Matejko paintings fall? He couldn’t get those back if the boy destroyed them. Therefore, he held his men off. “Settle down!” He screamed. “Cabaji! Mohji! Hold your weapons!”

“But boss–“

“Shut it!” He screamed. “I want to talk to the young man!”

Cabaji made to protest again, but Buggy kicked him in the head. “Lemme speak, dammit!” He then glanced at the hooded boy. It was a shame he couldn’t see his face.

“Why are you here?” Buggy asked. “I don’t stumble across rif-raf often in these parts.”

The boy was silent. Instead of saying a word or two, he reached into the front pocket of his hoodie. Buggy looked at his men. If this was a gun...the boy was taking out of his pock–

“Huh?”

A dog? He’d taken a photocard out of the front part of his hoodie. The masked man stepped closer. “Do you know who this is?” He asked quietly.

Buggy leaned in and squinted his eyes.

The dog was big. But most likely more fluff than size. It was ugly and seemed like one of those son of a bitches that shed a whole damn lot. That was why he was more of a cat person. They were predictable, unproblematic, easy, and didn’t drool. Despite Mohji’s stupid rescue kitten being a bit of a scratcher, the damn thing knew how to take care of itself. It was raised by the best, after all, a lion tamer. He’d give his subordinate that.

Buggy put a finger to his chin. Why was the young man showing him this photo? Did he want him to sign it? He would be more than gladly do that if this son of a bitch stopped wreaking havoc (and gave him enough time to call the cops). Wait. That, in truth, wasn’t quite as simple as he’d like for it to be. He quickly glanced at the package tucked away underneath the couch.

He needed more bodyguards.

“If you wanted a signature…” Buggy said with all teeth. “Then you should’ve just asked.”

The masked individual was silent.

The influencer grabbed his cup of vodka and audibly slurped. “Cabaji. Mohji.”

“I’m giving you one more chance,” the masked figure said. “Look at it again.”

Buggy snorted without a glance. “I looked at the mangy mutt,” he said matter of fact. “You should be seeing your way out.”

Cabaji and Mohji grabbed the young man. He started fighting their hold on him. Mohji barely missed a punch. “You ran over my fucking dog, you bastard.”

Hm?

“Stop,” Buggy said to his men. “I need to know what this bastard is talking about again.”

They let go of him.

“Does it ring a bell?” The man asked. “ Harmony Haven. On Coleopteran Boulevard.”

Buggy rolled his eyes. “No,” he replied. “It doesn’t.”

The cup of vodka sloshed in his cup as he shook it for more flavor. “Anywho, I’ll entertain this,” he slurred. “What would you like for me to do?”

“Simple,” the uninvited guest said. “I’d like an apology. Then I’ll go.”

An apology?

For something he didn’t do?

Buggy looked at his two wings, and they looked back. He looked back at the teen and burst out laughing. Cabaji and Mohji followed.

Maybe he was drunk, was hallucinating. It was easy for one to do when indulging. Maybe that was why he didn’t feel so down about a ruined party. He had someone else entertaining him.

He held his stomach and he roared with laughter. He gripped his sides. “You can’t be ridiculous–“

Swooop!

His drink was knocked out of his hand so fast, he was pretty sure it didn’t happen. Maybe he was too clumsy.

But he saw that his two men were on the ground. They were holding their heads and groaning.

The man walked forward and jumped onto the table. He leaned in. “I guess we have to do things the hard way.” Before he could pull out another surprise, Buggy punched him right in the face. It was a clumsy punch. But he was able to land it. Even Gold Roger said he packed a mean punch. It was all Buggy could show for.

The masked man nearly fell back but recovered quickly. But Buggy wasn’t done yet. He tried punching him again, but the boy was quicker by performing a somersault.

Buggy grabbed the bottle of Vodka and broke it by hitting it against the metal coffee table. “Try again!” He said as he held out his new weapon. “I’ll beat your ass into next Tuesday.”

Bravado always worked.

Right?

Alas, the masked young man shot it out of his hand easily. Shwoop!

Buggy still couldn’t tell what weapon it was but it was doing its job.

“You fucking bastard!” Buggy yelled. “You make me sick!”

He lunged at the perpetrator again, and this time they both ended up on the ground.

“Ugh!” The kid growled as he pushed himself off Buggy.

The clown spit out the blood in his mouth before grabbing the kid’s ankle. “You aren’t getting away!”

He was kicked in the face. Buggy kicked back.

That was when he felt something sharp hit his leg. “Ahhhh!” He screamed. “You son of a bitch!” He glanced down at his leg. It was some type of weapon; it was sharp and circular. It was a disc with multiple blades.

Too distracted by the weapon, he didn’t see another kick in the face coming. He gave a low grunt and held his nose. It was probably even redder than before. Damn, the kid. He thought he could pull a fast one on him…

Another kick. But this time it sent Buggy crashing into the wall. More paintings and photographs fell. He groaned and looked up at the ceiling. His eyes widened.

Oh, no!

The chandelier was slightly shaking. It never shook before. He could have the music blare to the loudest volume, but the chandelier would never move on its own like it was doing now. He looked at the figure who stood a couple of feet away.

Already was his destruction evident. The DJ-ing booth was missing a speaker or two, the coffee table was bent and flipped on its side, and some parts of a wall were shredded. And picture frames were broken.

But the chandelier.

The chandelier couldn’t fall.

“This isn’t over a damn dog!” Buggy said loudly. “Is it?!”

The masked assailant tilted his head to the sound, as though he were innocent and clueless. As though he were a child learning about math for the first time. The damn bastard knew very well how to count in 5s!

“She wasn’t just some damn dog!” He screamed. “She was family!”

Buggy laughed despite the blood and pain. “You can’t be serious,” he said with mirth. “You’re a crazy bastard.”

The menace looked up. He pointed at the ceiling and said, “That chandelier’s a beaut isn’t it?” He then chuckled. “I wonder what it’d look like tumbling down.”

Buggy tried standing up despite himself.

No. The kid wasn’t going to win.

He touched the pocket of his polka-dotted fur coat.

“Looking for this?”

Buggy looked at the stranger.

He was holding a phone with a red jeweled case that looked an awfully lot like his.

Who was this kid?

“You little shit!” Buggy yelled. “I’m sending your ass to jail!”

The young man didn’t do anything. So fucking juvenile. He didn’t respect his elders (even if Buggy denied he was getting old).

"One apology,” the masked boy said. “Then I’ll leave.”

This fucker isn’t gonna get what he wants, Buggy thought. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Hoodie boy looked up and shrugged. “I can’t find it in myself to care.”

He sounded like he meant it. In every word and syllable. It was withdrawn, and sincere.

Buggy tried to attack again, but he couldn’t land a shot on the kid. His fist would go to the right, the hoodie boy would go to the left. Buggy went for a shot on the chin. The kid ducked.

Both men moved, as though they were dancing.

Buggy went in for a quick tackle. The young man evaded his grasp.

Who the fuck was this guy?

He couldn’t let a kid beat him to the pulp. Why did the bodyguards turn in for the night already? He paid them each a good amount of beri; in the thousands range.

He was socked in the eye.

“You no good piece of shit,” the young man said in blatant disgust. “My dog is fucking dead because of you.”

This son of a bitch was crazy.

Buggy didn’t know where Cabaji or Mohji was.

Wait.

Were they still incapacitated?

Buggy didn’t have time to look.

Something sharp hit his chest.

He looked down.

It was a dart.

He didn’t feel anything at first. But when he put his hand to his chest and sat against the wall; beyond winded…unable to fully digest what was going on–the damn kid shot something at the chandelier. It happened in slow motion. Almost. Buggy was one for the dramatics, and maybe it was the alcohol. He didn’t know. But the kid turned his head to Buggy and pointed up at the ceiling. What?

He looked up.

The chandelier came tumbling down.

Glass. Nothing but glass.

It was like confetti. One big birthday party. The grand finale.

The masked individual then took out a match.

Buggy grasped his chest. The pain coming all at once. He started wheezing. “I’ll make sure the cops arrest your ass.” That was a lie. Buggy got his ass handed to him by a teen.

This had to be a kid.

The masked man shrugged. “I turned off all the surveillance systems, and you might want to make sure your home insurance is up to par.” With that, he started to walk off. It was as though he had finished a job. As though everything he did to Buggy and his party of people was a plan; some sort of setup.

“I’m going to make you regret this!” Buggy screamed. “I’ll make sure of it.” Why’d he ever think it was okay to fight with a boy?

The masked young man stopped walking. He turned back around and simply said, “There’s no regrets if I’m already dead inside.”

He took the exit through the window.

The fire alarm started to sound.

End of Act I

Chapter Text

Act II: Vigilante

13: darkness

Life isn't beautiful because it lasts. – Vision

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back to school?” Heracles asked. “The last match did quite the number on you.”

The black boy rolled his eyes. “Unc,” he replied. “I’ve taken much worse than that. I feel more than brand new.”

The older man shook his head with a sigh. He donned his black shades today despite being inside. “Maybe I should call the school one more time,” he said. “You still haven’t healed.”

It was Wednesday morning.

It was neither sunny nor cloudy. It was in the middle. Barely an obvious breeze. Pollution racked the great metropolitan area, but the suburbs were fragrant and clear. Midtown wasn’t included in the fragrant and clear…sadly.

Harmony Haven had long Summers. Shorter Falls. But even shorter winters.

Forget about spring.

The whole country of Marilandia had its very own weather forecast system, unlike the rest of the whole continent of Scholaria; the history books still couldn’t quite put a finger on this phenomenon. To be a meteorologist in Marilandia, meant big bucks. Too bad Nami had let go of that dream years ago. “Usopp. People like me got to stick to what’s real,” she’d said. “It’s easier to be an accountant than it is to predict the weather for television ratings.” She didn’t quite believe in herself.

“Heracles,” Usopp groaned as he followed his uncle into the kitchen. “I feel a lot better. I didn’t even break anything. It was just a concussion and a sprain.”

“Both were severe, Usoppun.”

“It was a little nausea and another ankle sprain. That’s it!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Heracles warned. “You couldn’t remember what 1 plus 1 equaled.”

“Maybe I was high,” Usopp joked. “Sorry ‘Cles. Maybe I snuck in a few new flora.”

Heracles glared at him. “This is no time for joking,” he scolded. “You forget things Usopp. You may not realize- “

The 17-year-old let out a snort. “I get one concussion, and you think I’ve got lunacy or something.”

“You still can’t tell me why you’re mad at your friends– “

“Does there have to be a reas- “

“Why is there still dog food in the pantry?”

Usopp frowned. There wasn’t an easy reply forming on his lips nor at the tip of his tongue. Did he have one?

Heracles continued.

“When’s your birthday?”

“Some time in April.”

“What did we eat on Saturday on match day?”

“Uh…I think it was, uhm, yogurt?”

Heracles shook his head with another sigh escaping him. “It’s April 1st, son.”

“But I got yogurt right, right?”

“It was a salad.”

Shit.

Heracles caught the 17-year-old’s look of self-deprecation. He recognized it. How could he not? “Usoppun, you can recite the whole periodic table, in the correct order, without hesitation,” he proclaimed. “And you were able to skip the beginner course at the archery club- “

“You’re still going on about that?” Usopp interrupted. “That was like, 4 years ago.”

Heracles laughed. “What?!” The older man slapped him on the back. “It was far earlier…I was gonna be more than a thousand beri poorer if you hadn’t won.”

Usopp rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure if it’s because you have faith in my abilities, or because you think I’m weak but– “

“You’re not weak.”

“For me, it’s easier to take a punch than to throw one.”

“Nah. It’s even harder to roll with the punches like you do.”

Usopp couldn’t think up a quick enough response.

Heracles put his hand on the 17-year-old’s sweater. “I’m gonna get you a warm compress.”

Usopp nodded. Arguing against it wouldn’t work. “Ah, okay,” he said. “…okay.”

“Mi deh yah enuh.” (Everything is okay, you already know).

As Heracles walked off, Usopp sat down at the foot of the bed. He rubbed his forehead and thought back to his uncle’s words.

You couldn’t remember what 1 plus 1 equaled.

That couldn’t possibly be it. Sure, Calc had been kicking him in the ass…but…

But that didn’t mean he had “memory issues”. Maybe there was that one incident with the broken arm, but that didn’t mean anything happened. Heracles told him he’d seemed completely fine.

But Usopp didn’t know how he walked such a long distance without realizing his arm was broken. Then there was…

He didn’t remember much. But sometimes when thinking about all of that, it felt like he needed to remember something. Always something.

How could the past stay in the past, and an individual look to the future, if some things were easily forgotten?

Regardless, he certainly remembered the match a few days ago.

He nearly got his ass kicked. But his opponent relied too much on powerful jabs and not enough speed. Due to this, Usopp’s fast jabs and defense were on par. He’d forget the fact his opponent wasn’t the definition of refined, more so sloppy. Absolute fodder.

The New World Combat League wasn’t as impressive or prestigious.

The Marineford Elite Combat League was where the big kahunas came from. Luffy was a part of that circuit.

Usopp was a part of the New World Combat League, an MMA circuit he competed in on weekends while training five days a week. This low-ranking circuit was known as the "coward's junkyard," catering to the less privileged and notable fighters.

In contrast, Luffy was part of the Marineford Elite Combat League, a junior elitism circuit emphasizing raw strength and high ranks, often referred to as the "Yonko factory" where future stars were born. Both leagues were approved for 14 to 18-year-olds. Though not fully professional, they were mentioned occasionally in sports news, with UFC officials sometimes attending. However, the NWCL was rarely sought after and barely featured.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go to school…” The 17-year-old mumbled to himself as he touched a nasty bruise on his stomach.

He missed a few days of school because of an excuse Heracles came up with. No, it wasn’t because the old man was putting him on the wrong path (quite the opposite), but because of a commitment and a dream. Well, it really wasn’t a dream.

It was so freaking hard to explain to himself. Either way, Heracles had the “gift of gab”, and had convinced the administration to excuse Usopp’s absence for a few days. No, Usopp didn’t “go to see family in The States.” Because he didn’t have any family in The States that he knew of. Heracles did. But Frostlandia (Marilandia’s name for North America) wasn’t on the radar as far as Usopp was concerned. Nevertheless, the lie worked. He could walk free.

Usopp took his school uniform out of the closet and just stared at it for a few minutes too long. What would those guys think, seeing him walk the halls, knowing they hadn’t left a scratch on him at all?

Would they try it again?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Once Usopp stepped foot on campus, he stopped and looked up at the school’s building.

Grand Line High (or Grand Line Preparatory) looked pretty decent on the outside. It was supposed to resemble something akin to a building on the Marine Base sprinkled with nautical prints and font. But it was still a far cry from the Marineford base.

“He’s alive?”

Huh? Usopp looked in his peripheral. It wasn’t the son of a bitches who almost got him.  It was a few of his peers that he’d never spoken to before. When he caught them whispering and staring at him, they quickly walked away with their heads down.

Okay. He wasn’t sure where that was coming from.

He looked up at the cloudless sky before putting on his orange headphones and walking into the school. Classes started in a few minutes, so nameless peers wandered the halls; some chatted happily with friends, and others escaped off into the woods to smoke weed (well, that was a guess). The hallways were brimming with life as he made his way through the crowd.

This time he failed to notice the stares. How could he? J. Cole was rapping and spitting out words to him. This is my canvas. I’m gonna paint it how I want to paint it…

“Crap.” He stopped walking because of the dull pain in his ankle. He should have brought some ice. But he was sure he could brave it like a man. He was gonna be a Marine after all.

A damn good one at that.

He walked up to his locker.

As he turned the dial, he failed to notice a figure walk up behind him.

Usopp continued to rap the words to the song quietly. He finally got the locker opened and began to switch out the course material. Besides his backpack and headphones, he’d put everything else in his locker. With that, he turned and started walking.

“Usopp?”

His headphones were still on, music still blasting, and he was on a mission.

“Usopp?”

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He stopped and turned around quickly.

Smack!

“Ah!” What the hell?! “Ah, shit!”

Usopp held his nose and tears sprang in his eyes. You couldn’t escape tears when your nose felt like it was gonna fall off. It wasn’t possible.

He looked up at the redhead standing before him.

Seething.

She was breathing heavily. Her teeth clinched. If she’d been an animal her teeth would’ve been sharp. Waiting to attack him and bite him in the worst possible ways. It wasn’t new. But it was never like this. She always meant well…then.

He turned away from her and groaned in pain. He hoped it wasn’t broken. At this point, he’d need plastic surgery because this would be the nth time his nose was broken.

He looked back up at her.

What the hell had he done?

He then noticed her eyes and the color of her face. What did he do? Why was her face red? Why were her eyes red? What the hell happened?

This was starting to feel like…

It felt familiar.

“You can’t do this to me!” She yelled. “You can’t make everyone believe you were dead when we care about you!” Don’t you know that?

Usopp’s eyes were creased in bemusement. But it soon turned to shame. But how did…? Why did…? Do they think that..? Thought he was dead?

“Do you know why the fuck Luffy is suspended?!” She yelled. “Do you know why Zoro can’t go to a competition?!”

Usopp didn’t answer.

“You tell a good story!” She said with a quiet voice. “But you actually fooled us this time.” He then glanced down at her arm. It had some gauze wrapped around it. “Your arm,” he said. “Is it okay?”

A crowd had formed around them.

“Usopp,” she said with a sadder face, ignoring his question. “Don’t do this to us anymore.” What’d you do? That was what she was really asking. “It hurt the first time when y- you did it…but…just stop doing it.”

No words came out of his mouth because there wasn’t anything he could say to remedy all of this. Right? She hated him enough. He didn’t need to do anything to convince her that he didn’t mean to cause anyone harm. Even when…back then when…he was trying to do everybody a favor.

Probably realizing he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) explain, a decent explanation at that, Nami turned around and fled in tears. If Sanji had been here he probably would have kicked his ass; he’d seen him do it to other people who caused Nami to cry (which was rare in itself). Where the hell was Sanji? Was he suspended? If so, why?

Usopp didn’t even acknowledge the looks.

Everyone loved a good show either way. He would have looked too if he hadn’t been the scene stealer. Did the Great Usopp get punched again? Right in the honker, as always.

He smiled as he stood up.

He was okay. Everything was peachy. Who cared if his former friends were pissed off at him? It was an utter SNAFU in the mix of things. In the drama of it all. Didn’t he leave a message loud and clear last time? Wasn’t the message along the lines of, don’t bother trying to talk to me, I’m too fucked up, loud enough and clear? Huh?

Don’t come any nearer. I’m fucked up.

It was like he was holding a balloon. It didn’t matter what color it was. But it was a balloon. He held the balloon where he was standing on solid ground. Then suddenly, maybe thirty seconds after he’d wrapped his hand around the balloon’s string, he’d start to float. Usopp would fight it at first. He’d flail around, trying to jump back down onto the grass and try to remove his hand from the string. Alas, he couldn’t let go. Then suddenly he’d feel something latch onto his foot. He’d look down and he’d see Luffy. Luffy was holding onto him. After Luffy, it’d be Zoro. Following Zoro would be Nami, Sanji, Chopper, and Robin, and…they’d end up floating with him. And he’d scream for them to let go. But none of them ever would. Luffy would smile, Zoro would give him that dangerous smirk, Nami would cry, Sanji would mutter “shitty balloon”, Chopper would look down and scream, and Robin would simply smile with her eyes.

Why couldn’t they ever let go?

Or maybe they finally let go. And it was just his imagination.

Usopp walked to Chemistry. Ms. Monet wasn’t in the room yet. He sat in the back of the room. Vivi hadn’t shown up yet either.

Before he could put on his orange headphones, he heard whispering. It was excited and giddy. Two girls gossiped a desk or 2 away from him, in the second row. They faced away from him. One of the girls smacked gum. “So, he just flipped him onto his back, and he was thrown onto the table. Of course, no one ratted on him. But Spandam’s a creep. Like did he sniff him out?”

“Who knows,” the other girl replied. “The dean’s a creep. I caught him staring at my ass once.”

“Wait. The three junior creeps killed a classmate, right?” The girl smacking the gum asked. “Didn’t they make a student jump?”

“If Spandam hasn’t said anything, then…”

“Like he’s reliable for information.”

The girls’ conversation was cut short when Ms. Monet finally entered the room.

Usopp put back on his headphones.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Thunk!

The dart landed on the bullseye.

For Usopp, it was effortless really. It always was, because he felt like the dart. But he didn’t feel like it in real life. It wasn’t easy to do. Most times he was the bull's eye in the center. Always the target. Bullies won and he didn’t.

“What about we play a little game?” She’d asked. “You take off your shirt and I’ll take off mine.”

Chocolat. She was evil.

Usopp’s grip tightened around the dart.

“C’mon,” she had said sweetly. “This can be our little secret. We can have…fun.”

The crease between his forehead deepened.

“You don’t want to have fun?” She had cooed. “Well, what about this?” She walked forward and touched the bottom of his shirt. “I can just have fun.”

He glanced down at the knuckles on his right hand. They were bruised and cut from every issue he’d dealt with up to this point. He hadn’t wrapped them then. He hadn’t planned on fighting…at all. But they’d be sick to think they could do that to him. To anyone, really. He didn’t plan on hurting anyone. Honestly, he didn’t. It wasn’t supposed to be like that…

And then there was the incident with him falling off the roof of the building. Honestly, he’d just wanted to scare the bastards. He’d skipped enough classes to deal with that bullshit. If the bullies wanted him dead, then why couldn’t they go ahead and get it done with already? No, Usopp wasn’t…suicidal. At least not in the typical sense. But he shouldn’t have raised his hand at anyone. Even if was to just save himself. Yet, on the school roof, he didn’t hurt anyone. He just fell back and flipped onto the ledge of the third floor, and entered an open window. It was that easy. Although he wasn’t sure what would’ve happened if the window hadn’t been open.

Man, was I really thinking that far ahead?

But school was a separate matter. He would always be like that in the classroom, and with his peers. They’d stare him down with looks of pity or disgust, and he’d continue to take that. People like Luffy were meant to be revered for their fighting prowess. His former friend had a mission to become a UFC fighter and an MMA fighter. Zoro wanted to become the world’s youngest and greatest Kendo master. Nami wanted to find geocaching points all over the world and earn money while doing so. Sanji wanted to work at the most famous culinary establishment near the seas of the All Blue and eventually start another Baratie restaurant.

Usopp sighed frustratedly.

He threw the dart and it landed perfectly, right in the center. He didn’t bat an eye. Usopp looked at his desk and rolled his eyes at the thick-ass Lit textbook. The class assignment had been to read the third story in the Aesopica–The Fox and the Crab. But Usopp didn’t have it in himself to do so. They were all too predictable anyway. People learned life lessons the hard way and there wasn’t much more to it. Life hated some people more than others.

Wordlessly, Usopp grabbed his red hoodie off his chair and put on a backpack. He needed to take a walk.

He walked to his bedroom window and opened it. He pushed it up and stepped out. There wasn’t anywhere to jump because he was on the first floor of the townhome. If he’d taken Heracles’ room (which had been a coin toss when they first moved into the home) he’d had to do a bit more gymnastics. Usopp was grateful they didn’t have to share a wall with their neighbors. The house was at the very end of the overall structure of the block.

Once he was out of the bedroom, he looked back and per usual, cursed at the fact that he wouldn’t be able to shut the window properly. But Heracles wouldn’t notice. He was a heavy sleeper.

Usopp then turned around and descended into the night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A month ago.

“Kumacy!” A woman yelled. “Go take out the trash!”

The teen boy stopped playing his video games. He knew if he didn’t listen, he wouldn’t be able to sleep the rest of the night since he’d never hear the end of it. He was already sporting several bruises. That one guy with the Strawhat had to come into the mix. That long-nosed freak wasn’t worth defending because Kumacy had heard bad things about Longnose.

Even Strawhat had a bone to pick with Longnose. He just knew it because everyone in the school said they had a big fight. But people always forget where it happened. Some say it happened during school, smack dab in the center of the hallway. Some say it happened at the beach. Some say it happened in the gym. Some say it happened–

Does it matter where? Betrayal was betrayal. And people like Kumacy abhorred that.

The important thing was that the fight happened and there should be no reason why Strawhat came to Longnose’s defense like that. If all, Siyobe (Little Sister) is the one who had a bone to pick with the one person connected to both Strawhat and Longnose. And even better, Kumacy had a bone to pick with Longnose. Because Longnose was the reason he failed an exam. He was counting on that raised grade. But Longnose had to play dumbass that day.

Oh well, Longnose was friends with other bèn dàn, anyway. He’d dealt with one of them a while ago. Per Siyobe’s orders. She wanted someone else to lose. And it was Mr. Golden Boy.

However, somewhere in the back of Kumacy’s head, he asked, why is Siyobe such a sore loser? It wasn’t like she had a crush on the guy. But she’d claimed that he always took up a lot of Shihan-sensei’s time. And sure, Kumacy hadn’t been quick to do what she said because the person she was mad at hadn’t done anything to her that warranted a beat down…or sabotage. But that hadn’t mattered. Still didn’t.

“Kumacy!”

The big boy turned around and an older woman, with a lot of makeup gave him three more garbage bags. “I need for you to take these out, I forgot about ‘em,” she said. “Good?”

What if he said no? Fat chance.

Kumacy nodded. “Ok leh!”

She smiled. Her makeup was caked on pretty well. She looked twice her age– nope, she looked half her age. That was what she’d like to hear. But as much as she was ko (aunt), he couldn’t lie unless she was Siyobe. And Siyobe lived in the nicer part of town, where there weren’t carjackings and stray dogs. It was probably really quiet. Something akin to the Xinyi district, back in InnoTown. They called it Taipei down there in Zenithia (aka Asia). Siyobe said she’d like to go back there someday. But only for the clothes. “Kumacy,” she’d say, “InnoTown is positively filthy! It’s like no one ever bothers to clean it up! It’s preposterous!”

But InnoTown was the place she was born in. Before her mother sold her off. And that was how she found him. They were both orphans together. Until she moved in with that Mihawk guy.

Kumacy made a sound of disgust and hefted the three bags of garbage over his shoulder, and tightly held the three other garbage bags in his left hand. He walked out the door, into the cool air of Harmony Haven.

He walked to the garbage area and rolled his eyes at the over-stuffed dumpster. The garbage guys didn’t come until the end of the week. So, there would be more flies hanging around. More sticky tape to hang on the walls.

Just as he finished setting the trash down, he turned around and came face to face with a masked person. Kumacy furrowed his eyebrows. The figure was as discreet as that guy from that superhero movie he could never go see when it came to the theaters. Ko wouldn’t waste money on make-believe. She’d spend it on a new man; more Chanel and L’Oréal.  The figure donned a black ski mask, red hoodie, black sweats, and sneakers. The sneakers kinda looked like boxer shoes.

Either way, Kumacy backed away from the figure. He slowly grabbed for the knife in his back pocket. The masked figure wouldn’t stand a chance on his watch.

“What do you want?” Kumacy asked.

Mask didn’t speak. He didn’t move.

Kumacy continued to back away.

“I’m not a bitch,” he said. “I could kill you, y’know.”

Mask was still silent.

Kumacy quickly whipped out a knife. “Come any closer and I’ll maul your ass.”

“Maul?” Mask finally spoke. Their voice was deep. Really deep. It was a man. “So much for a threat. But pretty original, and certainly specific, if you ask me.”

Kumacy’s blood began to boil. He didn’t have time to be confused. He wasn’t a bitch. Siyobe said so.

“Tell me,” Mask said. “How much did Perona pay you?”

The big boy creased his eyes. Confused. “A, shénme?” Huh, what?

Mask laughed. “How much does she pay you to do her dirty work?”

Kumacy shook his head. “I don’t know– “

Mask took something out of his pocket. Kumacy ran forward and pointed his knife. He wasn’t going to die tonight. Mask was. The bastard wasn’t going to kill Siyobe. Kumacy’s beautiful, innocent, and too good for this world Siyobe.

But instead of stabbing Mask, something hit Kumacy’s face. It was water. It had to be. Or some kind of liquid.

As soon as it hit, he felt a burning sensation. Something was eating…eating his face. What the hell? “Ah!” He screamed. “What the– “

“Do you remember now?” Mask asked. “Do you remember what you did, huh?”

No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Siyobe said he’d be safe. No one had noticed. She swore no one saw. She reassured him. Was the masked guy after his little sis too? No! That couldn’t happen. Little Sis! Siyobe!

Kumacy blindly swung the knife, but something hit his leg. It felt like a knife or a dart of some sort. But there was nothing more the big guy could do. Is this what dying felt like? Was he being eaten alive? The liquid was eating his skin.

He couldn’t go out like this. Siyobe needed a protector!

“She’s a conniving bitch,” the masked figure said. “‘Siyobe’ isn’t gonna save a lap dog! Someone she considers garbage?”

Kumacy couldn’t talk. Couldn’t find the words…could he move his tongue?!

Mask continued talking. “Too bad this shit isn’t for real,” he said. “Hyaluronic Acid hurts like hell though.” He then started to laugh. “You’re even more of a pussy than I thought.”

Kumacy stopped moving. Shénme? The big guy balled his hands into fists. So, the acid was fake? That couldn’t possibly be harmless. His face was still burning, but when he brought his hand to his face…there was still skin. He didn’t have scarring on the right side of his face like that Lǜ fā húndàn (green-hair jerk). Kumacy didn’t completely make the jerk blind, as was the objective, but it scarred him. That was what Little Sis wanted. She wanted to leave the húndàn a reminder that he wasn’t invincible.

Nevertheless, being called a pussy didn’t sit right with Kumacy. His nickname even represented strength, vitality, and courage. What right did this masked freak have in putting shame on his name? With a loud growl, Kumacy ran towards Mask and swung the knife.

Not a chance.

The masked figure’s hands were wrapped. This person was prepared for a fight. Huh? Kumacy raised an apprehensive brow. Was this a friend of the húndàn? Before he even saw it coming he was punched in the face.

He tried to counter with a head-butt but Mask was too quick. The person could duck and evade like he was made of air. In no way could Kumacy land a punch. He knew in his heart. He was fighting a ninja it felt like.

Kumacy found himself on the ground. He spit out blood. His legs were bent. Something had hit him. A person much smaller than him had beaten him.

Tears streamed down his face. In no way could he get up. “Wèishéme?” He muttered. Why? “What’s it to you?”

“I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

Maybe it was good that Little Sis told him to injure the green-hair jerk. If he had bad friends like this, then he should’ve killed the green-hair jerk. It’d be worth it. Little Sis was going to be something big once she got out of school. Kumacy felt it in his bones, minus the ones in his legs. He felt pain. It hurt to breathe. “Who the hell are you?”

The masked figure crouched down. The piercing eyes underneath the ski mask stared down the big guy. Kumacy wanted an answer.

That was what he got.

Mask put his hand to his face and the mask came off. “Like I said, I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

Kumacy’s eyes grew as big as saucers. It couldn’t possibly be…? No. No. This jerk face was fodder. All it took was Kumacy’s pinky finger to rattle the chemistry freak.

The “chemistry freak” stared back at him. His smile made the twinkle in his eye unnerving. Kumacy knew that this couldn’t be the boy he threw against the desks. The one he punched in the nose.

Did he have a twin?

“You remember me?” The chemistry freak asked. “I’m memorable, aren’t I?”

“Seriously, who the hell are you?” Denial.

“Like I said, I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everything…big guy.”

Who could overlook the long nose? It only fits someone like him. Maybe Little Sis would have thought the guy was handsome. But she didn’t like guys with a complexion like Longnose.

And maybe in all of this, Kumacy knew he deserved it. It wasn’t good to be superstitious. The neighborhood auntie even thought so. “You want to kill me?” He asked carefully.

Longnose shook his head. The smile still on his face. The darkness was still in his eyes. He was silent for a while. “Nah,” he said. “I want you to disappear.”

Disappear? What did he mean by that? Kumacy wondered. Was this a nightmare?

Longnose continued talking. “You almost ruined his life,” he said calmly. “I’m pretty sure he was suicidal. I’ve never seen him like that. That kendo competition meant every fucking thing to him.”

Kumacy didn’t say anything. He’d lose either way.

“I know you’ve done more of her dirty work,” Longnose sneered. The tone of his voice was dangerous. “But maybe this time, she’ll suffer instead.”

No!

Kumacy tried to sit up.

No one hurts Siyobe!

“See?” Longnose laughed. “It sucks feeling powerless, doesn’t it? If you were to go to the cops ‘Siyobe’ wouldn’t get you out of jail.”

He’s wrong!

Kumacy tried sitting up again. No one hurts Siyobe.

“Who knows?” The scrawny but fit young man said. “If you tell, I’ll probably just get done with her. Mission accomplished, right!”

“No,” Kumacy grunted. “Don’t touch her!”

He wasn’t going to tell on Longnose. He couldn’t hurt Siyobe. He just couldn’t!

“I- I won’t tell!” Kumacy affirmed. “Just don’t touch Little Sis!”

His classmate stood up and turned around. “Maybe I already have,” he muttered. “But I definitely will if you tell anyone about this.”

Kumacy felt a tear rolling down his cheek. “She’s all I have!”

Longnose laughed again. “Fine. Then we have a deal.”

Kumacy didn’t know a good liar. But it was all he had. He had to believe the long-nosed boy. Little Sis couldn’t be touched.

He passed out.

Kumacy wasn’t going back to school when he’d soon be found with a weed bong or two. Who knew the big guy was a druggie? (He never was).

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Den Den Nexus Update: 🏹💔 High school turmoil unfolds as unexpected confrontations leave me questioning the impact of my actions. Bruised noses, tearful encounters, and a dart game with a heavy heart. Stay tuned for more twists in the saga. - 🎯 #SharpshooterShadow #HighSchoolDrama

Chapter Text

14: look so fine

“Listen, smile, agree, and then do whatever you want to do anyway.”

 

— Iron Man

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp wrapped his hands precisely. With each wrap, he tightened and positioned them.

The light on the ceiling flickered relentlessly, barely able to do its job. The air was musty with the smell of sweat, old plastic, and tarp. Usopp could hear water leaking somewhere in the back.

It was by maybe 11 pm or 12 am.

The streets seemed quieter. The lights were lower and brighter at the same time. The wind a whisper. The sky was darker.

It was familiar.

Usopp glanced at the mask lying in front of him. It was a sun god mask: Blue and gold. The nose poking out strongly but without flimsiness. The colors were shiny and cool. The etching, wood-like medal, and straps were as aesthetic as functional.

With his teeth, the 17-year-old boy tore off some of the wraps from its spool.

\\

“So, you hate me?”

“What the fuck’s your problem?”

“Don’t turn this shit around on me!”

“You’re a real piece of work.”

“Then, I guess this really is goodbye.”

//

Usopp bit his bottom lip. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. He couldn’t answer questions for anything he didn’t know the answers to like the back of his hand. He could only smile or frown behind all the pain. Or better yet wear a mask. He glanced at it for a second before turning his attention to a long arm sleeve that was part of a pair.

Two long arm sleeves with straps inside of them. Several darts aligned each sleeve.

Sniper King. Ha. The sniper king way, right? Usually, in all forms of media in most adaptations, Sniper King did indeed don sleeves that concealed small arrows and darts. This was a part of the Toxic Trickster Mode. It sounded pretty juvenile and—if he wasn’t such a fanboy—he’d admit it sounded a bit corny. So, in the live-action movies, the directors and producers tried for something like “TTM.” Unlike Usopp, Sniper King had a bit more bank and was a master engineer in the mechanical, electrical, civil, biomedical, environmental, chemical types—and several more. Maybe the best Usopp could vouch for when it came to his abilities was a sloppy form, shape, and essence of chemical engineering and environmental engineering.

What the hell was he even doing with this damn toy—mask? He should’ve chucked it in the nearest trashcan after using it just once. Because that should’ve been the only time. He was too old to be playing superhero when he had a calc grade to get up, and bullies to hide from.

But who was he kidding? Calc was a bore, and the bullies were a given. They’d been for a while…ever since…

“What the fuck am I even doing anymore?” He murmured. “I should be in fucking bed.”

But he couldn’t get a certain redhead out of his mind. She’d looked so…so done. Of course, they’d all had a reason to act like he didn’t exist, but he’d expected it then. He’d avoided them before they could do the same to him. Yet, somehow, he still felt…

Either way, it didn’t matter. It was great that Nami hated his guts. Even better reason as to why he was doing what he was doing as of now.

He stood up and popped his shoulder. It didn’t quite ache like it had.

Usopp put on the sleeves and tightened the straps on the darts. He then crouched down to pick up the mask. He held it up to his face. “Heracles is gonna kill me,” he said absolutely. Always. “But he’s never gonna find out…” Before strapping the mask on he put a mouth guard in. “If he hasn’t already.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Walking around at night could be just as scary as watching a horror movie. Horror movies were scary. Even when you were willing to watch them because you enjoyed horror movies.

But Usopp wouldn’t say he enjoyed walking around at night. Was he a masochist? Did he have something to hide? Was he an insomniac? Did he want someone to come from the shadows and slit his throat? Was he making a death wish?

He couldn’t give a sure answer to any of those questions because he didn’t have it in himself to. He’d like to think he was doing Harmony Haven some good by just going out and doing a harmless neighborhood watch (even if it wasn’t necessarily smack dab in the neighborhood he resided in). But he was a model citizen nonetheless. Maybe he could earn the brave citizen award. Heracles was always going on about it when a customer would bring it up to him; it’d be some elderly woman or an old retiree. “Usoppun, dus kno about the brave citizen award?”

Whenever Heracles brought up the damn award Usopp would just roll his eyes and put back on his orange headphones.

Fuck the brave citizen award, he whispered. I need no stupid award.

The air was pretty crisp, but he wasn’t underdressed. It was just the right amount of cool that didn’t make him too comfortable, but calm and alert. He’d learned that back in…

Back in Boin.

That stupid place.

The weather was extremely humid and wet in the day time but alarmingly cold at night.

He couldn’t go back there.

“I’m sorry!” A small voice wailed. “Please, we won’t tell!”

“Did you tell your mom on us?!”

“Yeah. You dipshits got our asses expelled! Are you happy?!”

Slap!

“Look at us when we’re talking to you, bitch!”

A whimper.

Slap!

“Is this little shit crying now?”

“‘The fuck?”

“Woah! Woah-woah! This little shit just pissed in his pants!”

“Ah, my Nike’s are ruined! You little– “

Shuuuuuuuu!

Thunk!

Usopp laughed a manic laugh. He couldn’t help it. As he made his entrance he only got surprised stares. He could have practically danced if he wanted to. Maybe he should carry a small speaker on him. Let these sons of bitches know who was the boss now. But for now, he settled with laughing and a cool walk. All these guys were fools!

Upon better inspection of the scene, Usopp counted four guys who looked around his age, if not, maybe a year or two younger. Two of them wore wife beaters, chinos, and converse. The other two donned hoodies with expensive sneakers. They didn’t look like legit gangsters. Maybe they were trying to go for middle-class criminals; mafia—nah, they weren’t wearing fitted-suits. They looked crummy. One of them even donned a fake 14-carat earring. It just had to be fake.

So, instead of asking about each of the three little boys who were backed into the brick wall of an abandoned gas station, sporting red marks on their cheeks and bloody noses, Usopp tilted his head to the left, looked at Earring Boy, and asked, “Are those earrings fake 14K?” He just had to know.

Earring Boy’s facial expression twisted into something nasty as the rest of his posse broke out into a few giggles. Shit. Maybe they could tell too.

Earring Boy’s face got red. “They’re real.”

Yep. He was lying.

Usopp snorted. “They’re real-ly fake.”

More giggles.

The trio who was being bullied were attempting to escape. They were silently creeping away. Usopp barely glanced in their direction but he knew. “If you’re gonna dress like you’re the shit, then maybe you should fool try an’ fool somebody. Can’t fool me.”

“Hey!” Wife Beater 1 said as he stepped in front of the kids. “You’re not fucking leaving!”

Another one of the bullies kicked one of the little boys in the back of the leg. “Stop fucking walking.”

Usopp tightened one of his fist as both fists remained at his sides. He couldn’t get pissed yet. Not right now. “Earring Boy,” Usopp egged on. “What business do you have with a few middle schoolers?”

The other two “gangsters” with the Nike shoes, made sounds of disdain. “What the fuck business does a grown ass man have running around in a little kid mask?” One of them asked.

The other one followed with, “Sniper King is lame as hell. Just a wannabe broke-ass Batman.”

Usopp’s eye twitched.

“You should just take the damn thing off,” Earring Boy mocked. “You look like a fucking pedo.”

Usopp had a quick tongue. “I’m not the stupe cornering little boys at night, doing God knows what. And you aren’t letting them leave?!” He guffawed. “Sounds pretty sus to me! Onnosel!”

“Onnosel?” Wife Beater 1 repeated. “What the fuck does that mean!”

“Dumbass,” Usopp replied. “Obviously.”

He didn’t know that much Afrikaans, but Heracles always said he had a gut feeling that Usopp’s paternal side could have had roots coming from Safariara (Marilandia’s name for Africa). Despite Heracles unreliable hunch, he chose to delve into learning the language just a bit. IsiZulu was on the list too.

Earring Boy’s face got even redder. “Take that back, dickshit!”

“Dickshit?” Usopp shook his head. “Thank you for the confirmation. Onnosel sounds about right.”

“Ako, Google that shit and tell me what that word really means.”

Usopp looked behind Ako’s back. Yep. The trio was attempting a quiet escape again. If he kept up with the insults the trio would be free.

Yet, once again, another hanger-on caught them. And this time he punched one of the boys on the back of the head. “Don’t fucking leave! We’re not done yet!” Wife Beater 1 walked over to his friend and said, “Are we taking them to the lake?”

What was that supposed to mean?

A steep hill. A precipice. Water. All Usopp could remember when looking back to all those years was being blind folded, numbing pain, and lots of water. Laughter. Did he call for help? Screaming for them to show him mercy? Did they want to kill him? Did they see him as some mutt? Why couldn’t they tell him what he did wrong?

Did they mean to kill him?

Absent-mindedly, he put a hand to his chest.

//

“Take this fucker to the lake.”

\\

“Shit!” Something sharp cut Usopp’s hand. It was a dart. Huh?

“What the…?” His eyes widened further. What in the living hell did he just do?

The Onnosel Crew (Usopp decided to dub the group of bullies), were on the ground unconscious. One member was stuck on the building with sharp arrow darts mercilessly pinning him down. He didn’t look awake.

Usopp’s eyes searched for the trio of boys. They were nowhere to be found. But he was pretty sure they escaped. He counted each person on the ground, and the numbers matched up correctly. Yet, on the other hand, was the group of bullies…alive?

Why do you have to ask yourself, dummy? What if you killed them? People like them deserve to die.

Well…the voice wasn’t wrong. But the pressing issue wasn’t whether he killed the group of bullies. What (although both) should have been the pressing issue was that he wasn’t sure what happened. Okay, looking at the one pinned by the darts, there wasn’t much to explain there. But upon closer inspection, he noticed piss at the crotch of the guy’s pants. Usopp smiled manically.

He looked at the others. One was sporting a nasty scar with blood seeping out. The other one was sporting a pitiless bump on top of his head. It almost looked like it was glowing red.

Usopp must’ve used…oh no. Wait. Lying at his foot was a hammer? Where the hell did he get that? Initially, all he had carried was a few sleeve arrows and darts (a lot of those in sooth), smoke bombs, and he wore a groin guard underneath. But a hammer wasn’t initially in the stack. So…? Oh, damn. Hadn’t one of the bullies taken it out?

Regardless, it’d ended up in Usopp’s hands.

Instead of checking to see if the Onnosel Crew was alive, he simply walked away, taking the makeshift tool with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“I didn’t say anything! I swear!”

“You did say something to my father!”

Usopp looked at the video on his phone. He gripped the phone tightly as he made himself watch the criminalizing act on his phone. But he skipped the parts that were the hardest to watch…ever.

“I forgot it even happened! Seriously—let go!”

“No! Get her right there! I’m going to teach her a lesson!”

He’d rewatched the video about 5 times because it was important to do so. They thought he was dead anyway. So, if they were to assume it was him that leaked it they’d have to admit to their wrong doings. Besides, the last time the duo (trio sometimes) had been caught like that in the bathroom, a peer had abruptly moved away from Harmony Haven. Why? Why did the peer move away, never to be seen again? Those were stupid questions when you already knew the answers to the answers.

Regardless, Usopp had the bathroom footage. But he wanted to have fun first before even grabbing the additional evidence that was needed to a greater extent.

The pair both lived in the same neighborhood.

The neighborhood wasn’t all that fancy, but they were better off than he and Heracles were ever going to be. Getting the plant nursery off the ground hadn’t been easy. Coming back from homelessness had been quite the adjustment along with that.

Usopp stuck the mask and hammer inside his backpack and took an Uber to the neighborhood.

It was a bit of ways but it took about an hour tops to get there.

Once the Uber drove off, Usopp went to the nearest house. The GPS had him walk a block before he was standing outside the back of the bully’s house.

The house didn’t have any cameras (the inhabitants were too vain to think they needed any).

Most houses in this neighborhood didn’t.

Some of the lights in the house were still on. It was the living room light and one in an (Usopp presumed) upstairs bedroom. Hmm…

He took out his Minox Macroscope to get a better look-in. He couldn’t for certain tell whether the perp was in the only bedroom with the light turned on. But he’d chance it, if not to simply have a peek inside the window.

The perps name was Thaddeus Draconis. His family came from somewhere outside Marilandia. It was somewhere closest from the Red Line, but it was a 3-hour trip (via plane) from Marilandia, one of the smaller countries in the continent. It was the size of Hong Kong Island.

Thaddeus’ family were on the bottom part of the caste system of an elite bloodline. His family weren’t part of the untouchables, they were midway at Celestial Merchants. Despite the rank, to be a family in the Celestial Dragons’ bloodline meant an assurance of generational wealth, no matter how small.

Thaddeus was sporting a nasty eye injury and a thick orthopedic cast. And he was currently watching TV. It looked like he was addicted to Adult Movies due to what Usopp could hear (moans, groans, and grunts), despite the fact that the window meant to block out the sound coming from the bedroom. His peer currently had his hand in his pants.

It was enough that this dude got away with assault, but he had to still resort to finding pleasure in adult movies. “Sick,” Usopp mumbled.

Either way, Usopp looked away and just sat outside on the ledge. He opted to wait a while until the elitist left the room to take a cold shower or something.

He looked at his burner phone and scrolled down his list of contacts. Maybe he’d head to Thaddeus’ partner-in-crime’s house. Maybe he’d have more information. And maybe the drives would be in his possession. Because Thaddeus didn’t seem like the type to keep incriminating evidence. He was the smarter of the two.

Yet, right when Usopp was about to jump down from the ledge, Thaddeus left the room. Maybe it wouldn’t be for long but it was Usopp’s chance. He needed to nag the laptop.

But was the window open? He couldn’t possibly enter it from the outside. Although he could very well use a credit card or a screwdriver, especially since this was a casement window, he was pretty sure Thaddeus’ family invested in high-priced break-in-proof windows. And even if he could get in with a credit card or screwdriver, he’d have to take out the screen and…it was complicated. What the hell was he thinking when he planned this? Had he been high?

Crap.

Maybe he still had a concussion.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

96 hours ago

Suckers.

Usopp flipped over and gripped the top frame of the window. Yes, if he looked down he’d realize if he’d fall he’d quite possibly die.

Very quickly and smoothly he continued moving a bit to the right and stopped at a vacant classroom. With his right hand he pried open the window. Thank goodness it was open. The classroom was vacant. School was almost over, and the last classes of the day were over in the other side of the building, hence they were more so the extracurricular. Band, orchestra, Pom-squad, debate, mathletes, rugby, drama, etc etc.

Usopp didn’t quite land as gracefully as he intended. His chin bounced on the floor and he nearly bit his tongue. Man, that hurt.

He had one job.

All he had to do was a somersault.

He got off the ground and rubbed his shoulder. He looked at the clock above the powered-off Promethean board. He still had some time but he opted to walk out of the room.

He kept walking…and walking.

Leave. Now. He thought. Get the hell out of here.

As he walked down the long winding hall, he used his eyes to pick upon his surroundings. In typical Spandam fashion, the fool was somewhere…doing nothing.

“Shut up!”

Usopp jumped. Huh? A-are they talking about…

“You can’t keep coming to my job like this. It’s unprofessional.”

The voice sounded way too familiar but less dainty. It was utter trash and overconfidence out in the open, but in a loud whisper.

“I wouldn’t have to come to your job…” It was another voice. “If you answered my calls! Don’t turn this around on me, bitch.”

Slap!

“Don’t call me a bitch!” She whisper-shouted. “What the fuck do you think I do all day, broke-ass?”

“But Bossman gave you the job for a reason…”

Usopp peered into the vacant hallway. No. It wasn’t vacant if two people were currently preoccupied and standing in said hallway. As he peered in a bit more, he finally noticed the green hair.

“Ms. Monet?” He whispered to himself.

The chemistry teacher was talking to some guy in a white fur hoody with a red and yellow skivvy underneath. His skin was a sickly color, and his hair was pretty messy. He looked like a broke druggie hence the brown lips and yellow eyes–almost bloodshot.

Ms. Monet shook her head quickly. “Hermana hasn’t convinced enough kids to stay after school or volunteer. We might have to do this for a couple more months.”

“Why can’t she continue with the scams?”

“Because Trebol has that all under control,” Ms. Monet answered. “You should trust the jefe more, estúpido.”

“Arschgeige!” the man said with such scorn.

“Lazy bitch.”

The green-haired woman laughed. “Curse me if you want, but I only follow Señor’s orders.”

Usopp frowned. Who was their boss? Why did Ms. Monet keep referring to someone named “jefe”? Who was Señor?

“But the drugs,” the druggie stressed. “If the SMILE drugs are administered with very little knowledge—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ms. Monet cut him off. “When Señor says go, we can go.”

The druggie growled a reluctant “fine” and nodded.

Ms. Monet smiled. “Qué chulo,” she said in a sickeningly sweet way. “Now do you have any of the good stuff? I’m pooped.”

The druggie rolled his eyes and replied, “Ja, but you only take one. Remember what happened a while ago?”

The pair started to walk down the hall toward Usopp, their conversation now revolving around how much of a drug is too much of a drug. It was as though they were talking about what to have for dinner. But drugs weren’t dinner.

Before he could be seen, Usopp quickly ducked into another of the vacant classrooms. His heart was pounding. Maybe it was his nerves. He’d fallen knowing he’d just flip onto one of the top frames. It’d been hella risky considering it wasn’t every day one would consider playing some sick joke. But if he hadn’t fallen on his own, then what would those bastards have done to him? It was rumored that…or confirmed…

Beep! B- beep! Beep!

It was a text from the unknown number he’d been ignoring for a bit.

The text read:

 

Please just tell me you’re okay. And I’ll stop bothering you.

 

Usopp’s eyes widened. Huh?

The 17-year-old squeezed the bridge of his nose and looked up. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Maybe he needed to block the number. Or better yet, not even block the number but maybe find out who it was who was texting him. But it could’ve just been someone who was wanting to bait him. Maybe about a year ago that consideration would’ve never crossed his mind, but…a lot could change in a year…and a half. Regardless, Usopp silenced his phone and turned around.

He was going home.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Den Den Nexus (@SharpshooterShadow):

"The night is deeper than you think. In the shadows, truths are revealed and masks make the man. Short nights bring long secrets. Keep looking, sharpshooters. He knows what he's doing, even if you don't. 🏹🎭 #MidnightHunting #MaskedVigilante"

Chapter Text

15: windows

 

“Leaders take massive action and, therefore, submit themselves to massive criticism. In order to lead like a superhero, you will need to develop very thick skin.”

– Sebastian Richard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp hid in the stall.

Whoever was on the phone, talked big and too bright. Too nice and too reassuring. Too empty and too pushy.

It smelled like bullshit.

Regardless, Chopper still smelled the roses. And dammit, he didn’t know he was getting tricked.

“How long will it be?” The 15-year-old asked. “There’s still my curfew to worry about.”

Chopper’s phone was on speaker.

“Your aunt is Dr. Kureha, yes?”

“Yes,” he replied. “She used to work at the hospital– “

“She had a practice down there in Drum?”

“Yes,” he replied again. “She– “

“Your aunt and I met at a conference last year,” the person on the other line said. It sounded like a woman. “She spoke highly of you. She said that you were very bright. And I’m sure she’d be proud that you’d be willing to stay a little later to help out.”

Silence.

Please don’t take the bait, Chops. Don’t take the bait. Don’t take the bait. Don’t take the bait-

“Oh, ha, she did?” The fifteen-year-old asked; a bit flustered. “I- I didn’t know you knew Auntie!”

“Of course,” the person admonished. “We personally sought you out because she spoke so highly of you. Therefore, we’d like for you to– “

“Oh, y- yes,” Chopper interrupted. “I can make it work. I’ll participate.”

Ugh! No, Chops!

It took everything for Usopp to not leave the stall and shake his…peer.

He was 100 percent confident in Chopper’s intelligence. He was probably going to be in Nobel Peace Prize winner territory soon. After all, he wanted to find the cure for cancer. But he also wanted to campaign for the First Nation where his dad was from.

I need to tell Zoro, Usopp thought. He’ll be the one to knock some sense into Chopper.

Or at least have his back, and confront whoever the hell was coercing him into some bullshit.

Who was Chopper talking to?

I’ll tell Zoro–

Wait. Zoro isn’t coming back to school anytime soon since he was suspended. Usopp shook his head. Shit.

Once Chopper made his exit, Usopp walked out of the stall. He then walked up to the sink and washed his hands. Afterward, he threw some water into his face. The 17-year-old took a look in the mirror and shook his head. “This is my fault,” he said to himself. “If Zoro wasn’t suspended, Chopper wouldn’t be in this shit.”

Oh, right. He could have let Zoro know about all of this sooner. But…

You’re a coward.

“No, I’m not,” Usopp said aloud. “I- I’m not a coward.”

You can’t even face your fucking friends. You always fuck shit up for them. You’re so fucking selfish.

“N- No…” Usopp gripped the edge of the counter. “I- I can fix this.”

What? Do you want to mend your friendship with everyone? Or do you want to try to help Chopper out? Why? You’ve let them down so many times.

Usopp slumped his shoulders. He looked at himself in the mirror.

You tell a good story…but you actually fooled us this time.

Don’t do this to us anymore.

Nami would probably think he was a liar.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp hadn’t known where to start at first.

Chopper was always volunteering and whatnot. Outside of school, and hanging out with friends, the young doctor frequented soup kitchens, food drives, and outreach centers. A long time ago, Dr. Kureha shared with Usopp that Chopper’s foster dad had instilled in him the meaning of giving back to those in need. Kureha didn’t get it, and point-blank had admitted to him that what Chopper and her ex-colleague practiced was “bull shit”. Usopp would reckon she attended most of the special luncheons for the drinks and the donors alone.

Despite Vivi being kind of pissed off too because of Usopp’s behavior, during Chemistry she did tell him what Chopper had been up to concerning his community service side jobs.

“Yaba has been working with a lot of private donors to give back to Harmony Haven’s low-funded areas,” she’d said. “Considering, that one neighborhood the Donquixote Family was wanting to gentrify, a lot of people have been shoehorn in volunteers to deal with the key drivers.” The blue-haired beauty slightly chewed on the end of her pencil. “Chopper has been speaking to a foundation Yaba invested in. It’s called Baroque Works. They’re behind a lot of food drives in the community, and they’re also all about education. If you’re interested in a government job, volunteering at Baroque Works gets you a foot in the door when you put them as a reference and under the ‘Experience’ section in your resume.”

“How long do they operate each day?” Usopp asked because there was no way in hell that Baroque Works was as legit as it was made out to be.

Vivi pursed her lips. “Hmm…Their outreach center runs from 6 am to 6:30 pm.”

Yep. Chopper was being coerced.

Now, as Usopp sat at his computer, he decided to do a little bit more digging on the ‘net. While also at the same time avoiding homework and taking to social media. Very smart.

Den Den Nexus post (@SharpshooterShadow):

 

One of my best friends is digging a hole they might not be able to get out of. They’re one of the smartest people I know, but naive at the same time. Should I mind my own business? Should I really interfere? Should I trust that they’ll be smart to find their way out of the hole? #SilentSleuther #LookingtheOtherWay 👀👀

Usopp clicked the 'post' button and switched tabs afterward.

So, Chopper was going to be meeting up at the Baroque Works’ office, in the Desert Mirage District (DMD for short). Unsurprisingly, the district was heavily populated by Arabastian immigrants, but Vivi herself, in passing, said she was pretty sheltered. Her father (or Yaba) hadn’t given her much freedom to explore certain areas of Harmony Haven despite being a country away from home. And she was an “exchange student”.

Usopp wondered if Nami or the others had been successful in getting her to sneak out for a night in the “Neon Groove Plaza.” It used to be the site for the Tot Musica Festival. It rivaled Coachella back in the States.

The teenage boy smiled thinking about how much Luffy talked about his cousin, Uta. She’d wanted to perform at the Tot Musica Festival, but she hadn’t been given the opportunity. She was too busy nowadays.

Ping!

Usopp jumped in his chair. He frowned and looked at the tabs in the window. It was in the Den Den Nexus tab. He had a new–

“Comment?” He said aloud; perplexed was barely the word for it. “I didn’t know you could get comments on this thing.”

The comment read:

Sawadee ka! You gotta lend a hand to your buddy. Seems like they’re going through some stuff. Even Einstein had his off days. ൠ ൠ ൠ 🍅

Usopp raised a brow. “People do read my stuff.” He smirked. “All the way from Tairengoku! Awesome.” The Great Usopp was at it again. Who knew the Land of Smiles was on his side?

With newfound courage, Usopp grabbed his red hoodie and snuck out the window.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp took a double-decker bus to the DMD.

As expected, it was bustling. It’d come to life once dark hit. As street merchants went on endlessly about the best deals from couture to veggies, Usopp’s focus stayed on his phone.

He would’ve never guessed the office would be situated in this part of town.

As he crossed the street, a guy with a tuk-tuk rode by quickly. Usopp would’ve flipped him off but he was scare– Didn’t feel like it.

Once he was back on the sidewalk, he was already following Chopper. The 15-year-old’s distinct coral-colored trapper hat was a dead giveaway, along with his hesitant steps, and modest outfit (a suit Chops, seriously?)—which was a far cry from the canyon red moccasins and multicolored alpaca sweaters he usually wore; which could be considered just as modest if not more. He was mumbling something intelligible but based on his body language he was nervous.

Chopper, you don’t have to do this! Come back here! Usopp bit his lip. No, he couldn’t just shout that out. He’d scare him off. Or maybe he was angry at Usopp too because of his actions that had pissed Nami off—and caused Luffy and Zoro’s untimely school suspensions.

Chopper would immediately yell at him to leave.

Either way, Usopp knew it was his job to fix this. He should’ve interfered in the BS Chopper was getting involved in after he’d treated Usopp for his injuries. But no, Usopp had been too caught up in his own feelings to be the older brother Chopper needed.

Maybe Robin could help. She couldn’t possibly be angry at Usopp. But he didn’t know for a fact because she’d noticeably been absent during Language Arts for most of the week. It wasn’t his business to know what was going on with her, but…

Beep-beep!

B-b beep! Beep!

Oh, shoot. It was his phone. He hurried up and ducked behind some LED signage that was on the pavement, standing straight up. It was an advertisement for the

Usopp opened up the notification that popped up on his phone. It was a ShipChat message.

It read:

Are you okay?

It was from the same freaking number that’d been texting him non-stop for the last couple of days. What the hell?

Usopp silenced his phone and put it back in his pocket. Now wasn’t the time to dissect text messages from shady numbers. He couldn’t lose Chopper!

Usopp had to run a bit of way to catch up to the kid genius before seeing a not-too-shoddy building with the words “Baroque Works” painted on the window. It looked more like your run-of-the-mill tag agency. It didn’t look like any of the stuff “Yaba” was talking about. Despite how much her dad kept her holed up in her bedroom (he’d told her host family to not let her go out after school…ever), had Vivi ever been over here?

Usopp let out a weary sigh before stepping closer to the building.

Chopper had already entered.

Usopp put his hand on the door handle. Maybe he could act like he wanted to volunteer and play dumb about not knowing about the operating hours. Or better yet, he could go roll around in the dirt a few feet away, and take off his shoes before entering the building–he could play a homeless person. He had the experience. It wasn’t that hard. Either way, Usopp accidentally put pressure on the knob, and unexpectedly the door didn’t open. It wasn’t unexpected because the closing time had passed. But what made it unexpected was the fact that Chopper entered the building easily, and not even a minute after, the door was locked. Usopp didn’t see anyone waiting at the door when Chopper entered.

This was beyond weird.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

5 years ago

The plant nursery was in its typical lull for a weekday. As expected, it smelled like the kind of things perfumes tried to imitate and that bees were attracted to.

New stock had come in and the weather was agreeable.

The early morning had been hectic. “Where can I find the Middlemist Red Camellias?” or “Do you all carry pesticide?” Of course, still just starting, the plant nursery was understaffed.

“So, the swordsman doesn’t know what’s going on,” Usopp said as he trimmed the potted wisteria. “But he cuts through the water anyway. And it creates this big path!”

Zoro let out a snort. “This actually happened, huh?”

Usopp had his back turned to his friend, who sat in the corner, by the fan.

“Ja,” the dreadlocked boy said positively. “Yes. But it happened somewhere far far away.”

“Mochiron…” Zoro mumbled with his eyes closed, and his head against the wall. “Of course.”

Usopp smiled at him before continuing to trim the flowers.

“Hey, you might meet him one day,” he said. “He could probably outmatch any kendo honcho, I’d say.”

“Now you’re joking,” Zoro shot back. “The guy’s form seems sloppy. You said he broke one of his swords at one point too?”

“It wasn’t exactly his fault,” Usopp defended. “He was trying to save a friend.”

Zoro shrugged. “Wouldn’t have happened if he’d been better trained.”

Usopp laughed and shook his head. “He might not be declared the greatest Swordsman…yet, but good skill alone wouldn’t have prevented it from getting destroyed.”

The 14-year-old didn’t say anything. Whatever.

Usopp laughed again.

“Excuuuuuuse me?” A brunette woman walked in from the greenhouse entrance. A bag was hanging from her arm, and her lipstick was abominably gaudy. “Can I get any help around here?!”

Usopp almost jumped out of his skin.

Why was she so miffed? They were indeed short-staffed but the woman hadn’t made herself known until now. She hadn’t been waiting for him all this time, had she?

“Hello!” Usopp greeted. “I’m sorry for the wait. What’s it you need?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You can’t possibly be the only person in this entire nursery to help me.”

Huh? Excuse me?

Usopp turned to look at Zoro, to make sure he didn’t hear incorrectly. But Zoro was gone.

Subtly pinching himself in the thigh, Usopp smiled at the woman and replied with, “I do apologize for the discomfort ma’am, but I guarantee I can help you with whatever you need.”

The woman let out a snort. “Okay. You sound pretty educated. Unlike some of the others I’ve seen.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Nonetheless, Usopp smiled and followed the woman out into the greenhouse to help her with whatever she needed. But right when he’d picked out the pot of fiddle leaf figs she’d requested, the woman stomped her foot and yelled, “Those things looked withered!” She shook her head. “Those aren’t the ones I pointed out!”

Usopp rolled his eyes when he turned away from her. But even so, he couldn’t help his trembling hands. After all, he couldn’t be a shitty worker when Heracles worked so hard to get this place up and running. Maybe he’d regret taking him in.

Who cared about what happened back in Syrup, or Boin?

“I’m sorry m’am,” Usopp said. “I- I- which ones did you point out again?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Typical from people like you. Everywhere. The States. Eclipsia. And now Marilandia? Can’t take the bad parts out—your people are the same everywhere.”

Woah. Woah. Woah. What did she mean by that? Was she saying what he thought she was saying? No. Certainly not.

Usopp gave the lady a tight smile. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized again. “It’s on the house. How ‘bout it?”

The woman smiled brightly. It was as though a flip had been switched. “That’s more like it,” she said overly cheerful. “With the fiddle leaf figs, I’d also like some zebra plants as well.”

The woman then walked past him to point out which plants she was talking about exactly, and he could only follow.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Minutes later, the woman made a stop at the store near the plant nursery. She browsed through the many items the store had to offer. They were pretty little knickknacks that represented the maritime symbolism found in all parts of Marilandia.

The country wasn’t too bad. It was very beautiful depending on the day of the week. And since her birthday was very near, she was feeling very lucky. More lucky than she’d been feeling for the last couple of months.

She walked to the back of the store to pick through some of the clothes they had to offer. Maybe a swimming suit would make a nice purchase. Hmm…should I buy a tankini or a one-piece?

“Yo.” A deep voice said.

The woman rolled her eyes and turned to face whoever the heck was bothering her. It was a teenager with green hair. She rolled her eyes again. “Yeah?”

That was when she was pushed up against the wall, a needle was at her neck. She was staring into stormy grey eyes. Her blood ran cold. “How much did the flowers cost?” The green-haired teen asked quietly but firmly.

The woman frowned. “Wh- what are you talking about?”

“How much did the flowers that you got for free cost?” His voice was angrier but still silent.

Prideful. “It’s none of your business, asshole.”

Then very visibly so, there was something in the young boy’s eyes that changed. The woman shook, knowing that her answer was indeed a wrong one. She glanced to see if a surveillance camera was anywhere near, but the green-haired twerp had most likely taken advantage of a blind spot.

She hissed when she felt the needle barely touching her skin. A tiny prick; but not enough to draw blood.

“How much did the fucking plants cost?”

He was a freaking gangster.

“I don’t know.” She swallowed hard. What the hell? “Pl- please. I just knew they were expensive and– “

“You’re gonna go back to the plant nursery and pay full fucking price.”

“But– “

His stare hardened. “But what?”

The woman nodded. “I’ll pay full price,” she squeaked.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp could barely hide his surprise when the judgmental woman who’d come in a while ago came back to…pay for the flowers?! She not only paid for the previous two items she had managed to nag for free, but she also bought an additional pot of flowers.

“That’s weird,” he said with a raised brow as the woman made her exit. “I wonder what made her come back and pay.”

With a shrug, Usopp turned around and picked up the potted wisteria on the shelf. Zoro was sleeping in the chair next to the shelf. Usopp shook his head with a fond smile. Maybe he really did need the company today. Back in Boin, there wasn’t anyone to talk to besides Heracles, and…

Probably feeling eyes on him, Zoro stirred awake and frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Usopp blushed. Dammit. He was caught staring.

The 12-year-old held the potted wisteria out to the kendo student. “Here’s a wisteria.”

“Hm?” Zoro raised a brow. “Wisteria?”

Usopp nodded. “Yeah.”

“Um…”

“They offer good luck,” Usopp explained. “So…you can be even more lucky with…this.”

Zoro held his gaze for a bit, still apprehensive but he took the pot anyway. “Arigatō.”

“Prego.”

Chapter Text

16: n95

A year and a half ago.

“Society likes to rest on its laurels. I believe those laurels should be thorny and never be comfortable. Society needs to face the ugly fact that it screws up many times. Only follow orders and disorder only follows.”

– John Mark Mitchell

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp gripped his phone tightly in his hand. There was no sound. There was no color but red. He was completely colorblind as his mind swam. It swam with the look in his dog’s eye as she ran over to meet him, a ball in her mouth, and her tail wagging quickly. It was all the love he ever needed. The dog was enough. And much more than that.

Therefore, his mind couldn’t delete the yelp—the big loud yelp of surprise and pain. The dog had toppled over and slumped to the side, gasping before her eyes closed forever. The white SUV, with the red and blue accents, and red rims never stopped moving. It kept going and going down the street like it hadn’t run over the living. The dog was just “some old damn dog” to them. Right?

Usopp angrily wiped his tears away. His hands were shaking, but he could hardly move. It was still red. He was still seeing red. He couldn’t see the white ball of fur because it was no more. The moment it went away, Heracles drove them to the vet, and as soon as they walked through the door…

“FUUUUUUUCK!” Usopp said as he gave the wall one good punch. The plaster broke and a hole was formed. The punch did its job. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. His breathing was quick and heavy. His chest flared up, and he could feel a fever coming on. It always happened during a time like this.

Usopp slid down to the floor and screamed into his hands.

She was just a dog.

“No,” he mumbled. “Merry was family.”

Heracles was too busy making phone calls to pet cemeteries all over the city. He wasn’t doing more. He could be doing so much more. Who gave a shit if Merry was cremated or not? She deserved better than that. “Why doesn’t he understand?” Usopp thought aloud. “Merry didn’t deserve to die the way she did.”

The stupid vet couldn’t do anything else. The only thing the vet could say was that the visit was free of charge, and proceeded to put a blanket over Merry.

Usopp needed to do more.

He would do more.

But he was at an impasse.

No one was there to witness his dog getting hit as he did. Sure, he could vaguely recall a white SUV. But nothing else mattered but the white pile of fur lying in the middle of the street. Dogs don’t externally bleed when they’re hit by a car. He would’ve never known that if Merry hadn’t bitten the dust.

So, he went out for a walk. He needed it, and the sound of Heracles voice explaining over and over again what happened to Merry, and hearing him thank the person on the other line for their condolences was grating. Why couldn’t Heracles have waited until tomorrow? He was so oblivious sometimes.

Beep-beep

       B- beep-beep

Usopp took out his phone as he started his trek down the sidewalk.

It was a message.

It read:

Hey, Usopp. Nami said you were coming by tonight to help plan the party.

He locked his phone and put it back in the pocket of his jacket.

Merry’s dead, he thought. She can’t be dead.

Not when she’d been with him for three years. It hadn’t even been that long. Yet, she’d represented the new beginning Usopp had wanted. And yet, it started to feel like what it felt like before he’d moved here.

He rubbed at the spot in his chest. She was his protector, and he couldn’t protect her. She’d crossed the street wanting to get to him, practically smiling wide, only for her to get hit.

He hadn’t run fast enough. He thought he had, but he hadn’t. He’d called her name but this time she hadn’t come. Her mouth wasn’t open her tongue poking out, and her tail wasn’t wagging. She’d disappeared and was no longer coming back. Because people didn’t come back from the dead.

He’d know.

Usopp walked further and further away from his home. He didn’t know where he was going. What he was doing. He just needed to hit something. Do something. Merry was dead. Merry was freaking dead.

Who killed her?

He sat down on a bench across the street. He put his face in his hands and gave himself a moment to breathe. It was still too quick. Too uneven. Too shaky.

It was an expensive white SUV. Red and blue accents. Red rims. It was bold and loud. And out of place. What the hell was the driver doing in midtown? People with big price tags didn’t come anywhere near a place that had rentals. The air was too dirty for them. There was no country club.

Eventually, Usopp returned home and ignored Heracles’ questions and comments. He was saying something about a funeral, but Usopp didn’t care. Not when his dog’s killer was still out there, roaming free, in an expensive-ass RV.

So, Usopp hopped onto his computer and searched up the affluent areas surrounding midtown. He needed the names of each neighborhood. The south housed a good number of pricey homes, but on the west side, people bought custom-made homes. But the car was flashy. And it screamed much more than upper-class (if all, it was kinda trashy in a camp way). Usopp scratched an itch behind his ear.

He punched the desk.

What the hell else could he do?

Feeling helpless, Usopp went on YouTube and listened to a playlist of his favorite songs. The songs blared from a Bluetooth speaker sitting on his nightstand. Heracles couldn’t hear it since he slept like a log, and his bedroom was upstairs. Usopp’s was downstairs. He rapped along to the music and closed his eyes.

Merry.

I’m sorry.

He opened his eyes. When closed, all he could think about was his dog. He still couldn’t let it go. He wouldn’t.

“Helloooooo, viewers!” An odd-sounding voice came through the speakers; flamboyant. “Today I’m going to wash my car. But I’ll be using mayonnaise, eggs, and magic eraser!”

Usopp had been nodding off to sleep when the voice came on. The 15-and-a-half-year-old glanced at the monitor on his computer screen. It was a YouTube ad. “What the fuck?” Usopp cursed with a growl. “I don’t want to watch this clown.” He walked over to the computer and grabbed the mouse. He accidentally clicked on the ad, which as a result reloaded the page. Usopp hit the desk. “Dammit.”

“As I’ve mentioned,” the man in the video said. “This is a custom-made Range Rover SUV. The rims came separately. I call her, Big Top!”

Usopp rubbed the sleep out of his eye and looked closer. Who in the hell named their car Big Top? Usopp had to admit, the influencer made him look (he had a feeling the guy’s engagement was pretty high). As the car was shown at different angles, the mouse to Usopp’s computer broke in his hand. But he wasn’t paying attention. He pushed everything off his desk and flipped it over. Not finished, Usopp punched another part of his bedroom wall and tore up the sheets on his bed. He grabbed a mechanical pencil that was on the floor. It’d been in the cup where more pencils had filled. They were scattered on the floor, along with other electronics and things that’d been on the desk.

Usopp picked his phone off the ground and touched the internet app. His fingers moved rapidly across the screen of his android. He then threw it on the floor. Usopp looked back at where the computer had been and he started to tear up. He started to tear up because there wasn’t much more he could do. The rich won. They always won. But criminals came in all shapes and sizes.

Usopp screamed.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Swoosh! The double-decker bus door opened.

Swoosh! The double-decker bus door closed.

Usopp handed the bus driver the bus pass before he sat down.

The weather was pretty neutral. Like any day in November, there was a slight chill in the air. The archipelago’s weather varied depending on the location, but for the most part, it was predictable in Sabaody, overall.

Beep-beep

B- beep-beep

Beep-beep

B- beep-beep

Usopp didn’t even look at the messages. He told Heracles he’d go to the library after school, and that he might be home a little late. Heracles didn’t do much besides tell him to pick up some ramen for him. So that was that. But Usopp’s uncle wasn’t aware that Usopp had skipped school. He wouldn’t be finding out anytime soon though.

Usopp looked at the smartwatch on his wristwatch. It was going on 9, the trip would probably take an hour top. Traffic was bad this time of day and there were two stops before his stop. So, he put the headphones that were around his neck on top of his head. He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.

Swoosh!

He was awakened by the opening of the bus’s door. He saw that it was where he intended to go. It was a big-sized enclave that was made for people with a pretty big buck to their name. It was the type of so-called heaven that the people in the so-called hell would never be privy to.

The enclave was given the name of Little Loguetown. The actual Loguetown city was in the country 4 hours from here by plane, and a few more hours by ferry. Little Loguetown was pretty but the nearby beach that was located nearby reeked.

Usopp quickly stood up and ran to the bus door. The driver had about shut the door when he’d exited off the bus. It was pretty awkward.

Swoosh!

Once he was off the bus, and it’d driven away, Usopp silently made his way to the directory stand and eventually came across the place he’d planned to scout. Before doing so, he grabbed an apple and a black coffee from a nearby vending area.

Usopp then took a taxi to the neighborhood and sat and waited. He wasn’t particularly dressed to the 9s, but he did make it a point to dress like the locals. He settled for a pair of brown trousers, a loose black cargo shirt, and a pair of black loafers. It screamed casual but sophisticated. He looked like a tourist, almost. So much for blending in…

As he walked through the neighborhood, he scrutinized every street sign. Some were pointing one way and some pointing the other way. It was a jumble. For an affluent area, the directions were a mess. Usopp used his second-hand smartwatch as a GPS. He looked at the map and kept going until he found himself outside a gate.

He couldn’t see much of the house. It was still a good distance away. But that was okay because that was all Usopp needed…for now. But how would he know where to go tomorrow night? Yet, going off of YouTube vids where Buggy live-streamed…sometimes, he didn’t show much security. And the room was always mercilessly packed. Would it matter if Usopp was possibly caught on screen, beating the shit out of Buggy…if he would have to?

Surely not. Buggy was a coward. He’d rather get down on his knees for money, than to keep mum and have all his things burn down to the ground.

How’d he know this?

He just did.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Snip snip snip.

Usopp chopped his hair off.

He stood in the mirror and looked himself directly in the eye as each lock of his hair fell into the sink. he snipped relentlessly, numb and…done.

But it was okay. A change was good. Not like it mattered since someone he loved was taken away from him. He couldn’t even say goodbye. But he should’ve never had to. Everyone around him was so full of shit. He had even taken the battery out of his phone because he didn’t need to hear all the notifications or the incoming calls he chose to wholeheartedly ignore. Damn the consequences.

Who cared? Who gave a shit? His dog was dead and no one could fix it besides himself. Because no one would understand. No one would want to try to understand. He’d tell his friends how sad he was feeling and they’d laugh in his face. They’d even joked once that he should get legally married to Merry once he was of age. “It’d be fuckin’ hilarious.” But was he laughing now? Was there anything to joke about? Huh?! What were friends for when they made fun of you?

Snip. Snip. Snip.

“You’re such a bitch,” he said to the individual in the mirror who was staring him in the eye. “You thought your life could get better. It’s not like you haven’t already nearly died. It hasn’t been the first time…second time…third time…more times.” Who cared about the first time? He sure the hell didn’t. It would all pale into the significance.

That was what his mother said when he’d helped her clean up af- after another clumsy episode. She’d look at him with a crooked smile—albeit she was still beautiful—and she’d uttered, “Usopp, one day, this will all pale into the insignificance.”

Bullshit.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

After a while, he set the scissors down and looked at himself. He no longer had a head full of hair. All he was left with was something that could be cleaned up into short dreads with a fade. But he wasn’t worried about cleaning up his look. He was okay with a weathered and grotty look. It wasn’t like he wasn’t ugly already. He could embrace being ugly.

With one more glance in the mirror, he turned around and walked back to his bedroom. He grabbed a nearby hoody and grabbed the ski mask sitting on the bed. The rest of the items would be at the boxing gym.

Eventually, he made it there and used the spare key he stole from Heracles.

Usopp wrapped the bandages around his hands and knuckles. Use what you’ve learned, he thought bitterly. You should’ve done it then to save her. But you were a useless coward. If you’d trained even earlier, you would’ve been able to save your mom. But guess what happened? Nothing happened. Nada. Zilch. Nothing happ–

“Fucker needs to die!” Usopp screamed. He hit the locker hard, but it hardly fazed him. He didn’t give a damn. Not when Merry was going to be buried in the ground, and Heracles was doing nothing. Nothing at all!

He took out the dart kit.

So, now, guess what? Since your uncle can’t help you out, you’re gonna take the law into your own hands. You’re gonna show ‘em who the real McCoy is now. Right? You’re going to beat all their asses and let them know–

“You messed with my dog, man!” Usopp cried. “You can’t fuck with someone else’s dog!”

Sure, it didn’t make sense. This myriad of a reaction was enough for Usopp though. Because there weren’t any other options. Heracles couldn’t do anything but make stupid phone calls.

To Usopp, it was about defending one's honor after all. Right?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The music blared so loudly Usopp could hear it as he made his way down the street. He’d parked the car a bit of way. He made his way inside the gated house by hiding behind the side of a car as the last-minute guest (there were a lot of guests like that) drove into the entrance of Buggy’s driveway. The dude’s security needed some work. Before Usopp walked inside he stopped and took out a small cigarillo.

He coughed loudly as he took his first hit. He then took a 2nd, and a 3rd and final one.

He then threw the blunt out and walked to the house. He’d need some “support” or “extra help” to get the job done. He’d say for all his planning that he wasn’t scared shitless about going into the lion’s den, but Buggy was the supreme king of an influencer. He had to hand it to the guy. Also, although the guy was a former fighter in the ring. Sure, the man was overshadowed by his contemporary but he’d been taken under famous boxer Gold Roger’s wing. That said a lot.

Usopp stood a bit of a distance. He looked at his watch and waited for the digits to change. Guards stopped allowing guests entry after a specified amount of time, and then “doors lock for the rest of the night”—as Buggy stated in his party announcement video.

Vigor in his veins and lungs due to the ganja, Usopp walked through the entrance and straight into the security detail.

There weren’t any fancy machines that you’d find at airport security checkpoints. A security guard wasn’t even holding a wand to scan guests for prohibited items. They were all wearing black suits with red and blue accents. One guy was wearing shades. Another was vaping with a bottle of beer in his hand. There were about 10 or 12 guys.

Hmm…maybe he could maneuver his way around this. Worst case scenario he’d have time to decapacitate Buggy.

“Who the hell are you?!”

Usopp stopped short. Between the drinking and chatting there’d been a chance they wouldn’t have noticed his presence. Now that he thought about it, he could’ve taken the chance to sneak through a window or something, but there was a chance one wouldn’t be open. Dammit! He planned the best he could. Was there a chance he could leave a messy trail? Yes. Did he care? Not enough. But at least he took advantage of the jammer he’d managed to nag from Sky Island. Marilandia worked differently when it came to the type of technology one could nag when it came to e-commerce or Craigslist. Jammers were illegal but New Haven didn’t think so.

“If you know what’s best for you,” another security guard said. “Leave.”

The rest followed suit with hums of agreement of “uh-huh” and “yeah”, and some stepped closer to him. “Get out.”

Okay. He was indeed wearing a ski mask, but it was part of the costume. Although, Buggy-weird was probably not ski-mask-weird. Sad enough.

Nonetheless, the 15-and-a-half-year-old guffawed. High as a kite.

He held a finger as though to say, “Hey, give me a sec. I’m gonna take a sec to laugh at your bullshit.” But once he was done and the security guys' and gals’ words sunk in, he stepped forward. It happened in slow motion, as he walked forward, one of the security detail ran forward to punch him, but Usopp was quicker. He evaded the punch easily and tripped him; an effortless grapple. The security guard now winded already, attempted to grab Usopp’s leg but Usopp was quicker and rammed his foot into the guard’s nose. A satisfying crack rang through the hallway. Yes, that’s the sound of it. Shit I like to hear.

Once one of their own was on the ground, barely left conscience without hardly a fight, the rest of the guards got out various items. One or two brandished a gun, unknowingly prepared from the jump.

It was a Mexican standoff almost. As it was grown men and women against a teenage boy, numbers mattered. They simply had to. What the heck was this little shit doing in here? Did he want to kill Buggy?

But Usopp ran forward anyway, and the guards met him.

Maybe it was adrenaline. Yeah, that was it. He dodged, evaded, and shot back. Of course, guns were easier to shoot with. But like a smartphone, those things were only as smart as their user. And these guys weren’t smart. It was guerrilla warfare, and a myriad of what you can do I can do better, and what I can’t do I’ll kick your ass anyway. Maybe it was the high. But Usopp was following that practice tonight. Who said model mugging was only for girls? Although he hadn’t had any big wins inside the ring, he still knew how to counter and dodge.

He knew he was nearer to the actual inside when he heard music. It got louder the further he made it down the long winding hallway.

“You are not getting inside!” A security guard roared. “The police are on their way over.”

Usopp let out a snort. The hell you say, he thought. No cops were coming over anytime soon because Buggy couldn’t afford to have the cops come onto the premises.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

Why?

Because Buggy harbored illegal things. From drugs to exotic animals. That shit wasn’t going to get confiscated on Buggy’s watch. And the man had already been booked once.

Bad publicity may mean good publicity, yet, the guy had standards. Usopp could give the influencer that.

So, he turned around and laughed at the security guard. “Bullshit,” he said before throwing the dart. It landed right into the guy’s neck.

He was out.

Usopp then took the security guy’s gaudy-ass shades, opened the door to the next room, and took a step inside another world.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Buggy was the villain and trickster in the ring. He basked in the title. He loved to taunt and egg on. He had as many KOs as he did wins. Yet, what stood out above all things is that there was the incessant speculation on various forums and scrubbed news articles that suggested the clown had been in fixed matches. No one could ever find any evidence but there was a few theories that sounded reasonable…enough.

But the man had been at his prime once upon a time. He was part of the dream team with Shanks. Before the UFC they’d participated in amateur matches and were under Gold Roger’s care. Shanks was revered as the real prodigy, but Buggy’s charisma was notable as well. Where Shanks lacked, Buggy reigned. At one point, once both men had gotten well into their careers, it was alleged that Buggy had helped Shanks come out of bankruptcy due to badly managed funds and frequent parties. Then there was the rumor that he’d also helped his friend get into rehab for drinking.

Usopp clicked on a video of a match between Buggy and some guy named Mr. 3. Apparently, the nickname derived from a crazy hairdo the guy sported as well as his signature move, the Triangle Choke. At first, it looked like Mr. 3 had the fight in the bag given how much control he had in the first half. Of course, Buggy’s mean words and flashy acrobatics were infuriating to the man, but it didn’t hinder his performance.

Until it did.

Buggy was known for his fast jab. He could land the punches so eloquently people thought they practically popped off his wrist. Mr. 3 was blocking and guarding, but when he found himself cornered he had no choice but to gain some control. Alas, Buggy eventually won with one swift punch in the jaw. Usopp squinted his eyes as he leaned in to get a closer look at the fight.

For one, Mr. 3 was just as much a trickster as Buggy. Obviously, they’d been trading jabs so they were pissing each other off. But Mr. 3 relied too much on his defense. That wasn’t a bad advantage, but the guy wasn’t the best at taking a hit. Which was… off-putting. That was the first thing in fighting school you must learn. But then again, up until that point Mr. 3 had been on a winning streak for 2 years. Hmm…

Usopp shook his head with a frustrated sigh. Overall, Buggy’s fighting style and approach weren’t hard to analyze and assess, but he was fairly unpredictable once he had you cornered. Which Usopp couldn’t knock the guy for? But there were far more boxers who were far more dynamic, yet the clown was entertaining, especially outside of the ring.

Basically, the press conference happened like this:

Buggy: Suck my buggy balls, Galdino. I’ll knock you out quicker than your arrest. 3 years in prison probably got you off your game.

Galdino: Whatever, man. For someone who trained under Gold Roger’s team, you rank pretty low. Who’s that UFC champion who people say is Gold Roger reincarnated? He trained under him too. Yet, he’s…hmm…better than you?

Buggy: Why you mother fucker…

Galdino: Yep. Thought so. Fucking bitch.

Buggy: Bitch? After I’m done beating your ass in the ring, you’ll have to go back to painting with your left foot. Crap-ass paintings I’ve ever seen..,

Galdino: What about I use my left foot to ram it so far up your ass you’ll have my toes for teeth.

Buggy: Okay. Tell me that when you’re arrested again and can’t pay for bail like last time.

Galdino: Rednose…

Buggy: What’d you say about my nose?!

 

And then all hell broke loose.

The whole affair became parodied online and on SNL. Despite being clowned, Buggy took advantage of it. It was his year. From several endorsement deals to cameo-ing in the 3rd live-action Sniper King film (which was the 2nd highest-rated movie in the series on Rotten Tomato with the 2nd best box-office return in the series).

But Red-Haired Shanks had become a double UFC champion the following year. So, Buggy had been easily forgotten…to an extent—to say the least.

Yet, Usopp had done a lot of research before coming to the premises and walking into the party room.

Buggy had become Usopp’s greatest enemy in over a night and the teen was here for revenge. He grabbed a sparkly scarf at the props table to wrap around his neck to blend in.

That was when the night truly began.

Chapter Text

17: in your eyes

A year and a half ago.

“It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me.”

– Batman Begins

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The party was, as expected, in full swing.

Loud dance music blared from the speakers. From what Usopp could gather it sounded like Kylie Minogue. As her voice filled the room, some people were dancing with filled glasses and expensive bottles of clear vodka.

Usually, Usopp stayed in the shadows, hesitant with fear. But the effects of the cannabis were doing the job. He even had a cup (yeah, right)  of alcohol. Soju was pretty tasty, at least that was what a high Usopp thought.

The music was so loud that people weren’t fazed by a figure standing in the shadows with a ski mask. Well, he desperately wore a flamboyant hat and some sunglasses. It made him at least look like, somewhat, that he was a guest at the party. Someone was sporting cat ears and a tail. Then there was someone with a wrestling mask and a spiked halter top with multicolored chains. It was practically a costume party but he was pretty sure that wasn’t explicitly stated on the invitations. Consider it a stroke of luck, he thought.

People talked candidly amongst themselves as they danced, drank, and smoked. Some were passing a vodka bottle back and forth, in the moment of decadence.

Usopp couldn’t comprehend how people could find pleasure in these types of soirées when they felt sad. Did any of these people who surrounded him look sad? No. Not really. But he thought of a while back when Luffy thought it was a good idea to go to a middle-of-the-night bonfire party. He’d maintained that his dad knew the guy who’d hosted it. But his dad’s friend never came around that night.

And that really wasn’t the whole point of crashing the party. Everyone knew it one way or another. It was in Zoro’s look of indifference, Sanji’s sad eyes, or Nami’s annoyance. Usopp was a nervous wreck. He’d contemplated on whether to attend and just have a date night with Merry. But Luffy snuck through his bedroom window and decided for him.

Truth be told, everyone did end up enjoying themselves. Everyone looked out for each other and did partake in just a bit of underage drinking (in truth, the drinking age in Marilandia is 14 and up), except that didn’t apply to Zoro and Sanji who were of age. But Zoro wasn’t a lightweight and pretty much played bodyguard that night. Even with Sanji’s careful eye on the cooler. People spiked beer cans too? Or did he not want anyone to overdo it with the drinking?

Yet, what really stood out that whole night to Usopp was Luffy breaking down in his arms.

He still didn’t know why Luffy broke down. But it made him want to cry too.

“Mohji!” A voice yelled. “Get your ass over here! We have to pay the delivery guy!”

Usopp jumped, coming out of his thoughts. The individual who’d just hollered was one of Buggy’s hype men, Cabaji. He was one of the guys who’d be next to Buggy when the fighter and influencer would enter the MMA arena. He’d be gesturing wildly to the beat, walking alongside the robed Buggy as they both entered the arena. Often, on Buggy’s YouTube channel and TikTok, Cabaji would be the try-guy when it came to Buggy’s challenges which consisted of drinking the deadliest hot sauce drink or eating the spiciest peppers in the world.

Meanwhile, Mohji, a confirmed lion-tamer, was Buggy’s other wing. He was funnier and more of a butt-monkey than Cabaji. Instead of checkered Emo boy scarves and a Devil’s lock (He dressed like a 2008 scene boy). Mohji dressed like he was a part of the floofs community. It was rumored that he was indeed part of said community but Mohji never confirmed it and didn’t seem to be doing so anytime soon. Despite Buggy’s error, Usopp did have to admire the man’s loyalty given he’d shoot down interviewers who wanted to talk about this particular subject regarding his friend when interviewed.

As Cabaji and Mohji brought the delivery over to Buggy, Usopp subtly followed. He remained in the shadows as best he could, but there was one woman who’d grabbed his shoulder and said his look was “pretty wild” and it “turns me on.” He of course shrugged her off and watched Buggy make the delivery boy uncomfortable as hell. The clown influencer seemed as flirtatious as he was online and with fans when at signing events and doing Reddit Q&As. Yet, Buggy didn’t seem particularly interested in dating no matter how much he saw himself as a cad.

Did Usopp read this online? Not the cad part. But he just had a feeling was all.

Soon afterward, when the delivery boy left and the party was in full swing, a Uta song started playing. Buggy started getting meaner and more flippant. A woman had asked him a question about some past match, but Usopp couldn’t hear which match it was. Regardless it sent the man over.

That was when Usopp decided to shift gears. He talked to a guy nearby (who seemed pretty buzzed out) and told him another influencer was having a party a few blocks away. He spun this huge tale about how the influencer was handing out free drinks and didn’t care about “disco biscuits.” You could do as you pleased but it had to stay inside. If not, you’d face the consequences. The woman went by the name of Alvida. She’d dabbled in the women’s MMA world without much success and then became a stunt double. But she then changed her image and started modeling. Yet, her flashy foray into YouTube and TikTok was her biggest break. She had a huge male following…and maybe that wasn’t due to her OnlyFans account. Uhrm. Yeah.

In all honesty, regarding the other party, half of the stuff Usopp was spouting was about 50/50 of the truth. He knew she’d had a drug problem in the past and was actually booked in some heavy drug trafficking conspiracy almost a decade ago, but he didn’t care. She was throwing a party twenty minutes away from here in a bigger house and people would be glad to hear about it. They wouldn’t have to sit here and deal with a moody and drunk Buggy.

In no time, word started getting around about Alvida’s party and people started leaving. If that didn’t work he’d tell them Buggy ran out of alcohol, or “There’s about to be a police raid and I’m heading out…don’t want to get busted”, or “Hey, uhm, some girl came to the party asking for you. She looks pissed” (this worked if it was a guy surrounded by a lot of girls and he happened to be making out with each of them).

Eventually (mostly) everyone had left the party. Cabaji and Mohji were MIA for some odd reason (did the security guards finally wake up?). But he’d worry about that later. It was go time.

Usopp took out two darts and effortlessly threw them at the target. He then took a sleeve arrow and threw it. There was a loud SLAM! as the arrow connected to the wall and a remaining guest or two made a mad dash out the door. Usopp popped his knuckles as the influencer sat on the couch, his eyes glassy and…not there. It was like he wasn’t there. It was a sad and lonely sight to see. Either way, Usopp stepped forward and Cabaji and Mohji were back at their boss’s side. They finally caught wind, huh?

“Who the hell are you?” Buggy asked as he took a sip of the drink in his hand. It looked like vodka.  “The delivery boy has already come by.”

Usopp didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to necessarily act violently. If he took the time to be halfway sane about all of this, he could give the influencer the benefit of the doubt. Therefore, he stood and…waited.

Buggy took another sip of his vodka before telling one of his minions to refill his glass. “Skedaddle now,” he told Usopp with a bit of annoyance in his tone.

Buggy then ate the chicken wings on the plate before him. The munchies were probably already incoming. If he was high that is…

Usopp tapped his chin and mulled over what his next approach should be. He was giving Buggy the benefit of the doubt, right?

He shrugged at Buggy and his words and shook his head. He wasn’t stepping out anytime soon. The mere thought of Merry’s cold and lifeless body made his blood boil in anger. How could this asshole just sit there and eat hot wings like there wasn’t anything wrong? Did he know that he fucked up someone’s state of mind (life)?

The influencer may have soon caught onto the fact that Usopp wasn’t going away anytime soon. His clown core didn’t do him any favors if he was trying to intimidate Usopp, but maybe they could both entertain each other. “Then what the hell do you want?” Buggy asked apprehensively. “You can’t just crash my party for something– “

“Important,” Usopp interjected with quickly and intransigently. “I’m here for something important,” he stressed.

Buggy’s facial expression noticeably changed when hearing his words. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. The position made him look whimsical albeit genuinely curious it seemed. “I see, so you’re a fan,” he said knowingly although he was wrong.

Usopp let out a snort. The weed was still kicking in and it still hadn’t left his system. “Hell no.”

Mohji looked like he was going to lose his shit, but Buggy waved his posse member away, his eyes fixated on Usopp. “Then maybe you should leave?” He said it like he was suggesting something. Buggy’s eyes were in slits. “I don’t want any trespassers. Or I’ll call the– “

“Haha!” Usopp shook with laughter. No way in hell was that going to happen. As the 15-and-a-half year old had suspected before entering Buggy’s residence, the star clown had stuff in all the nooks and crannies, of this palazzo, he wanted to keep hidden. After all, right out in the very open when the house was still crowded with party people, Cabaji had offered Buggy “white powder”. And that was right in front of everybody. So, Buggy’s threat was stupid.

“Whatever, Rednose,” Usopp said with the utmost confidence. Know-it-all and anger combined. “You’re a fucking joke!”

And it was as though Buggy had become this completely different person. He’d gone from the friendly Ronald McDonald to nutty-as-a-fruitcake Pennywise. “What’d you say?!” He asked tightly. “What’d you fucking call me?!”

Usopp shrugged. “Did I offend you, Rednose?”

He’d read online that there wasn’t a given explanation as to why Buggy’s nose would get redder than what was normal. Some said it was the result of a childhood sickness or disfigurement from too many broken noses. Or it was from a cold sore or rash that would never go away. There were STD rumors too. Or maybe it was genetic, and his biological mother and father (who he never knew) had that one condition where certain parts of your body or skin were redder than the average human. With or without clown paint, his know was his most distinctive feature.

Of course, Usopp would know a thing or two about facial genetics. He got his mother’s long Roman nose (although he had a bulbous tip).

“Do you want to fucking die?!” Buggy screamed in madness as he stood up.

Usopp tightened his fists. He stood up straighter. “Fuck you!” He cursed. You red-nosed bastard!”

Then without warning or some sort of sign, Buggy came at him and things escalated from there. Usopp shot out a dart from an armband. It was supposed to stun the old bastard. Usopp deftly evaded the punch or head butt he was sure Buggy was going to deliver.

Bruce Lee said to be like water. But for Usopp, it was to be like air or a projectile missile. Be the arrow. Always focused and sure to hit the target.

He could feel a bullet move past his ear. But he dodged it and performed a tumble. He did a few more of those as Cabaji and Mohji shot at him. He could hear stuff crashing and messing up due to the bullets. He heard glass breaking and pops. He could barely feel the stress in his legs and arms. He probably should’ve stretched a bit more though.

“Settle down!” Buggy screamed as Usopp shot out another dart—it hitting Mohji’s foot. “Cabaji! Mohji! Hold your weapons!”

“Fuck!” Mohji let out a stream of curse words as he jumped around on one foot. The dart might’ve broken his toes and made it numb.

Usopp had shot Buggy in the knee amid all of this, so he could probably barely stand for a bit.

Cabaji still had his gun aimed and ready. “But boss– “

“Lemme speak, dammit!” Buggy yelled animatedly as he gripped his leg in pain. He looked at Usopp, who hadn’t moved much at all. He was taking a break. His heart was beating too wildly. Merry, he thought. Justice for Merry.

“Why are you here?” Buggy asked. “I don’t stumble across rif-raf often in these parts.”

Usopp tightened a fist. So the bastard still doesn’t know what’s wrong?

He wordlessly took the photo of Merry out of the pocket of his hoodie, took a few steps forward, and showed it to the harlequin.

Buggy raised a brow at him before leaning in forward to get a better look. He put a finger on his chin. After a while, the clown glanced at a particular hiding spot that Usopp figured contained drugs. The glance was quick. He smiled behind his mask at the realization.

“If you wanted a signature,” Buggy said manically. “Then you should’ve just asked.”

He then grabbed the glass of vodka he favored and took a big gulp. “Cabaji. Mohji.”

That really pissed Usopp off. So, he doesn’t fucking care?! This piece of shit clown shit?

“I’m giving you one more chance,” Usopp said slowly. “Look at it again.”

Buggy shrugged as he took another sip of his piss-vodka. He didn’t even glance at him. “I looked at the mangy mutt.” So matter of fact. “You should be seeing your way out.”

The clown then shrugged again as he sat back a bit more comfortably on the sofa. It was as though he were saying, “I’m done dealing with this stupid kid.” Usopp gritted his teeth, it still concealed over the mask of course.

Buggy’s posse members grabbed him by the arms and started dragging him away. Usopp struggled out of their grasp, trying to shake off each arm. He started swinging, missing Mohji’s face by a hair.

He glanced over at the clown again who continued to sip on his glass of vodka.

Usopp’s blood boiled even more. “You ran over my fucking dog, you bastard!”

Like hell was he leaving like this? He still had a trick or two up his sleeve. Mohji and Cabaji are dweebs–

“Stop.”

Buggy.

Cabaji and Mohji let go of Usopp. “Does it ring a bell?” He asked. “Harmony Haven?! On Coleopteran Boulevard?!”

The bastard has to remember.

“No,” Buggy said with an eye-roll. “It doesn’t.”

The man moved his cup, swishing the contents inside of it around. “Anywho.” He stopped moving the cup. “What would you like for me to do?”

Usopp could finally breathe a little easier. Maybe the influencer wasn’t such a jerk. Maybe the vodka in his hand didn’t taste like piss. Maybe he did deserve that insane amount of followers. “Simple.” Usopp stared right into the clown’s eyes. “I’d like an apology. Then I’ll go.” See? Easy, right? He felt ridiculous doing all of this. But Merry didn’t deserve to go out like that. She’d been perfectly fine. Healthy. Vibrant. Lots of life left in her. Until…

“Hahaha!” Buggy and his two main men were laughing at Usopp. Genuinely, similarly, laughing at him mocking him, and saying he was fucking dog shit.

Buggy had a hand on his stomach. He found it that funny. “You can’t be ridiculous– “

Usopp threw a dart.

He threw another dart at Cabaji and Mohji since they thought he was a freaking comedian. These darts had the sharpest and relentlessly firm tips. These babies never failed him when playing a game of darts.

He walked forward. Buggy’s eyes were wide and his mouth agape.

The teen jumped onto the table, crouched, and leaned in. “I guess we have to do things the hard way.” Seriously, if the man just apologized, it would’ve never come to this. Usopp would’ve been out the door.

But Buggy still didn’t want to make it easy for himself because Usopp was decked in the nose. The man got a quick jab on him. Merciless. Usopp fell back, his ass on the floor. He evaded a second punch.

He somersaulted away.

Usopp could hear Buggy’s heavy breathing as he yelled, waving around the now broken bottle glass, “Try again! I’ll beat your ass into next Tuesday.” He aimed it at the teen.

Usopp shot out another dart. This one was quicker but it packed a weaker punch. He was running out of the smaller darts.

“You fucking bastard!” Buggy yelled. “You make me sick!”

The former fighter lunged at him. Usopp dodged another punch as he kicked the older man off of him. He rolled away and used his upper torso as he used his legs so there was enough leverage to kick Buggy in the face.

“You aren’t getting away!” Buggy’s foot hit his thigh hard. Usopp let out a grunt and stabbed a shuriken into the man’s leg. This was going to temporarily paralyze the clown. The effects just…took a while.

Buggy screamed and cursed.

Usopp kicked him in the face again. I hope he needs plastic surgery after this.

Due to much practice in the past, Usopp gave one last big kick and the guy ended up flying into the wall. Usopp could hear everything falling, he could hear the static on the electronics that’d simply been in the way. The coffee table was toppled over and broken. Glass everywhere.

He watched as Buggy’s eyes shot up. But his eyes weren’t on him. They were on–

The chandelier? Usopp thought as he looked up.

The thing was bright red. Multicolored diamonds made it glisten as though it were a disco mirror ball. It looked a bit old-fashioned but despite not being a millionaire, he could tell the thing probably cost more than Heracles’ car note and the plant nursery’s yearly revenue.

The chandelier was swinging back and forth slowly. Hmm…so there’s the potential of it falling and breaking. Decisions decisions.

“This isn’t over a damn dog!” The influencer desperately shouted. “Is it?!”

Usopp tilted his head. Well, the thing was Buggy took someone’s life.

Merry should’ve never gotten hit by a car.

Simple.

His dog was being buried to the ground and that was it. Merry was just dirt now. Buggy turned her into dirt.

“She wasn’t just some dead dog!” Usopp screamed with spit coming out of his mouth. Tears streamed down his face. “She was family!”

Buggy had the gall to laugh again. “You can’t be serious! You’re a crazy bastard!”

Usopp looked up. I’ll show you a crazy bastard. “That chandelier’s a beaut isn’t it?” It was ugly. He laughed like a maniac, still pointing his finger up. “I wonder what it’d look like tumbling down.”

He then took out the Buggy’s phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “Looking for this?” He asked the influencer who was struggling to stand up. His makeup was beyond smeared and patchy. He’d been patting his expensive gaudy fur coat and his pockets, looking for the damn device.

“You little shit!” He yelled. “I’m sending your ass to jail!”

Usopp closed his eyes briefly with a sigh escaping his lips. Okay, he’ll be fair and give the old guy another chance. “One apology,” he relented. “Then I’ll leave.”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

Just what I thought. “I can’t find it in myself to care.”

Buggy growled as he pushed himself away from the wall and lunged at the teen.

Usopp kicked the man, but Buggy evaded the kick the second time. The former professional fighter attempted a few blows but Usopp evaded most of them. Buggy went for the nose but Usopp turned himself as he walked backward and Buggy walked forward throwing each punch, sloppier than the last. Apparently, the vodka had him off his game which Usopp thought was pretty sad. He expected more from this fight. But Buggy deserved to go to hell. With that sentiment, Usopp punched him in the nose and the clown stumbled pathetically. “You no good piece of shit,” Usopp spat as Merry crossed his mind once more, lifeless on the cement. Her eyes were still open, and her tongue was out. Slack. Slumped.

I’m sorry, Merry!

Please! Please forgive me!

Usopp took out a dart he’d been working on. It was up to snuff. He’d been working on it for a while and never thought he’d have to use it. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Would he call himself desperate? Shit. Maybe. He’d probably hate himself somewhere down the line because he didn’t know what would happen to the influencer.

Why?

Because when Usopp had been working on the fluid for the dart, he’d just been throwing random stuff together. He’d snuck into the lab at school and played around with some things. It couldn’t possibly be meth. No, Xylazine was for the pros. Either way, Usopp shrugged before throwing the dart. It hit Buggy’s chest hard and unyieldingly. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t feel the effects until later, if so. But Usopp didn’t stop there as he threw a dart at Buggy he took out a sleeve arrow and hurled it at the ugly and expensive chandelier.

And it came crashing down like the piece of shit it was. Usopp smiled manically behind the mask. He had pointed up at the chandelier as Buggy’s world fell apart. Glass heaven. The man’s eyes had widened his smeared makeup was a tragic sight indeed. Maybe it was the day the clown cried.

The glass fell from the chandelier.

It rained and rained glass.

Usopp smiled wider as he watched the show. Buggy the Bastard couldn’t see his smile, but he hoped he felt it. 

“I’ll make sure the cops arrest your ass,” Buggy spluttered pitifully. He shook violently as he continued to look up at his now-destroyed prized possession. Maybe he could give the viewers a sob story or story time. Or maybe he’d forget about the fallen chandelier in rehab or the hospital. Usopp didn’t know what chemical was in the dart. It was a wildcard.

Usopp shrugged at Buggy’s words; most likely an empty threat. Like the security guards, the clown was afraid of the police. There was too much debauchery that went on in a place like this. If his old friend Shanks was an alcoholic, then maybe he was the one who took up doing drugs. “I turned off all the surveillance systems...” Usopp touched the jammer in the pocket of his hoodie. “…and you might want to make sure your home insurance is up to par.”

He didn’t know how the guy was going to get out of his predicament. There was a block of powder underneath the couch. And his phone was probably broken (Usopp had thrown it…somewhere). He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

Oh, yeah. The clown was too busy screaming at him as he became lost in his thoughts.

Too bad the security guards were ignored. They were probably still unconscious outside because telling from the partygoers’ state of mind and how fast they left the damn house, Usopp wasn’t getting in trouble tonight. He’d given himself prep time.

He sighed and turned around. 

He was taking the window way out.

His revenge was done.

“I’m going to make you regret this!” The clown screamed. “I’ll make sure of it.” The grown-ass man was crying. The revenge was successful.

But revenge didn’t bring back the dead.

The teenager turned back to briefly look at the clown. “There’s no regrets if I’m already dead inside.”

He lit another blunt but it wasn’t for him. He threw it near the synthetic curtain.

As the alarm started, Usopp’s heart felt like it had sunk. There was something in the back part of his head that was whispering to him. What did you get out of this, huh? You’re no better than the heartless son-of-a-bitch who ran over Merry. Why are you trying to ruin another person? Huh? Do you like doing this?

It was a loud whisper in the back of his mind. Trying to find its way out. As Usopp climbed out the window, he started to feel the tears come on. Dammit! He thought. Not now! He took off in a run and jumped over the fence.

The adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet.

The cannabis hadn’t worn off yet.

The crisp night air breathed new life into him. It was as invigorating as the sweat on his temples, overshadowing the numb despair. He started laughing as tears rolled down his cheeks. He could have this moment to himself.

Usopp heard a beep coming from his smartwatch and his eyes widened. “Oh, shit.” He ran to the car he’d driven down here (Heracles' car, in fact) and immediately hopped in.

It was Zoro’s birthday and he was extremely late to the party.

Usopp buckled up, started the engine, backed up, and quickly drove off. He glanced at the gift bag in the backseat with a nod. As he continued the drive back to Harmony Haven somewhere in the back of his mind told him this nightly escapade wouldn’t stop here. But he ignored it. This was a one-time thing. He took off the ski mask and stuck it in the pocket of his hoodie.

A job well done he’d say, even if he might have broken a rib and dislocated his shoulder.