One Piece: Undying Dream

Even as he spoke, they emerged from the treeline fifty yards away—three figures moving with the casual confidence of predators.

Roku recognized two of them from the southern harbor—the towering man with the crescent mustache and the pink-haired woman who rarely strayed from his side.

"Scouting party," Jiro breathed, instinctively shrinking lower to the ground. "Looking for survivors."

The pirates hadn't spotted them yet, their attention focused on the ruins of what had once been a guard tower. But in the open stretch of beach between their current position and the dock, there would be no hiding.

"Go," Roku said again, forcing strength into his voice. "Now. While they're distracted."

Jiro shook his head stubbornly. "Not without you."

"Listen to me," Roku hissed. "Salazar poisoned me. I'm already dead. But you don't have to be."

"We'll find an antidote," Jiro insisted, though uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "Once we're off the island—"

"There is no antidote except the one Salazar has," Roku cut him off. "You heard him. This is my death sentence, not yours."

The pirates were moving methodically along the shoreline, drawing closer with each passing moment. Soon, they would be in plain view.

Jiro looked from Roku to the approaching pirates, then to the boat—tantalizingly close yet impossibly far. Indecision warred on his face.

"Jiro," Roku said, his voice softening. "You're the only real friend I've ever had on this island. Don't die here with me. Not when you have a chance."

Something resolved in Jiro's expression. "I'm not leaving you behind."

Before Roku could argue further, Jiro had hoisted him up once more, supporting Roku's weight despite his own injured leg. Each step was agony—visible in the tightness around Jiro's eyes, the sweat beading on his forehead, the trembling of his overtaxed muscles.

They had covered perhaps half the distance when one of the pirates turned in their direction.

"Look there," he said quietly to the pink-haired woman beside him. "Survivors."

"Slaves, by the look of them," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of compassion. "One's badly injured."

The third pirate with them—a man with a gaunt face and eyes that seemed to glow with malice—grinned hungrily. "The Captain said we can go crazy! Let's finish this quickly."

Before his companions could respond, the gaunt man drew a wickedly curved blade and sprinted toward Jiro and Roku.

"No!" the woman called out, but it was too late to stop him.

Jiro saw the attacker coming. With the last of his strength, he shoved Roku toward the dock, putting himself between his friend and the approaching pirate.

"Run!" he gasped, though they both knew Roku couldn't.

The blade flashed in the firelight as it arced toward Jiro. But it never connected.

A massive hand closed around the gaunt pirate's arm, stopping the attack mid-swing. The bearded giant had moved with impossible speed for someone of his size, crossing the distance in a heartbeat.

"Enough," he rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "They're just children."

"Let go, you fool!" The gaunt man snarled, struggling against the giant's grip. "The Captain's orders were clear!"

"I don't care," the giant replied simply.

In one fluid motion, he tightened his grip and flung the smaller pirate aside. The man flew through the air, colliding with a fallen beam from the guard tower with bone-breaking force. He slid to the ground, unconscious or worse.

The pink-haired woman hurried forward, placing herself between her companion and the boys. "You shouldn't have done that," she murmured, though there was no accusation in her voice—only concern.

The giant shrugged his massive shoulders. "He'll live. But I won't stand by while children are slaughtered."

Jiro collapsed to his knees, still trying to shield Roku with his body. Blood soaked through his makeshift bandage, pooling on the sand beneath him.

"Please," he gasped, looking up at the two pirates. "Not him. He's all I have left."

The woman knelt beside him, her expression softening as she examined his wound. "You're dying," she said gently.

Jiro nodded, his face pale beneath the grime. "I know. But he can still make it if..." His eyes drifted to Salazar's ship at the dock.

The giant followed his gaze, then looked back at Roku, noting his paralyzed state and the strange discoloration spreading across his skin where Salazar's poison had touched him.

"Poisoned," the giant observed. "By whom?"

"S-s-ala-zar," Roku managed to say, fighting through the paralysis. "That bastard"

Something like recognition flickered in the giant's eyes. "I've heard stories of his work. Nothing good."

A distant explosion rocked the island, followed by that now-familiar laugh—"MAMA MAMA MAMA!"—carried on the wind from the main harbor.

"They're coming this way," the pink-haired woman said urgently. "We need to go."

The giant nodded, then turned to Jiro. "The boy—your friend. You want him on that ship?"

Jiro nodded weakly, his strength fading visibly with each passing second.

Without another word, the giant bent down and lifted Roku as easily as if he were a doll. "I'll take him to the vessel. 

As the giant carried Roku toward the dock, Jiro grabbed the pink-haired woman's sleeve.

"Please," he whispered, "tell him... tell him it wasn't his fault and I'm sorry."

The woman nodded, genuine sadness in her eyes as she watched the life fade from Jiro's face. By the time the giant returned, Jiro was gone, his body slumped forward on the bloodstained sand.

"The boy?" she asked.

"On the ship," the giant confirmed. It will catch the outgoing tide. It will carry him beyond the island's waters."

"And the poison?"

The mans expression darkened. "There was a laboratory on board. Vials, notes, research I couldn't begin to understand. If there's an antidote, it's there for him to find. If not..." He trailed off, leaving the grim alternative unspoken.

Together, they walked to the edge of the dock where Salazar's ship was already beginning to drift with the current, carrying Roku away from the dying island.

The giant raised his massive hand, focusing his will. A giant boom filled the air and suddenly the ship's dark sails were being pushed further out into the sea.

"Why?" the woman asked quietly. "Why help them when the Captain ordered no survivors?"

The giant watched the ship growing smaller in the distance. "Because some orders shouldn't be followed. Because sometimes, a single life spared can change everything."

From the jungle behind them came the sounds of their crewmates approaching—loud voices, breaking branches, casual destruction.

"We should go," the woman said. "And speak nothing of this."

The giant nodded, taking one last look at the receding ship. "May the sea guide you, boy," he murmured. 

They turned away, leaving Jiro's body on the shore—one more casualty among hundreds on an island being consumed by flames. 

As consciousness began to slip away once more, Roku's gaze fixed on the horizon—on the endless expanse of sea that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. Beyond that horizon lay the wider world, with all its terrors and wonders.

If he survived the poison... if he survived the sea... if he survived at all... he would find Salazar again. Would make him pay for Jiro.

The last thing Roku saw before darkness claimed him was the rising sun, breaking over the edge of the world—turning the sea to fire and blood.

He was free.

But at what cost?