Chapter 5: The Open Seas

The crash was behind them.

Yet, the foreboding feeling that had plagued Hikaru did not settle. 

Despite both ships successfully making it past the fall—and wasn’t that an event to rejoice in—despite the towering waterfall of Wano, which had humbled many seagoers like Hikaru and Moria, thundering endlessly behind them, there was no relief. 

Ahead, the sea was no refuge. 

Dogstorm, Cat-Viper, Kawamatsu, and Onimaru all paled at the sight before them, and he didn’t blame them.

The waters surrounding Wano were almost unnatural. 

The sea twisted oddly, a vast basin where saltwater and freshwater clashed in a never-ending spiral. The wind came hard in bursts, raising the tide and pressing against any unlucky ships, only to die moments later, reappearing from a different direction. 

The Royal Fortune groaned, its hull shuddering against the erratic pull of the current.

By the rigging, Dogstorm braced himself, gripping the side of the deck and holding for dear life as he hollered out, “This sea’s all wrong! What the hell is this?”

Hikaru knew his compatriots were far too young to remember how they’d arrived in Wano, much less this cursed part of it. If they had remembered, they might have thought twice about setting sail with their lord.

At the helm, Kawamatsu squinted into the mist. “It isn’t natural,” he muttered. “It’s cursed,” he spat, pointing forward. 

Ahead, whirlpools, six, no, seven of them—tightening as they spun, starving, waiting for something to devour.

[A/N: six seven]

Onimaru crouched near the prow in his fox form, fur slick from the water.

“We’ll be fine!” Hikaru yelled, drawing the attention of his crew. They looked at his form for a moment before they each nodded lightly, some tension leaving their being. 

He meant it too. They had Kawamtsu to rely on—a luxury Moria lacked. Moria took the opposite route, but regardless, he had no Fishman at his helm. No helmsman worth a damn, really. And in these waters, you needed one. 

Badly.

Most crews knew better. They didn’t sail seas like this without a Fishman or a competent navigator.

Well
 except for that one Celestial Dragon. One could only guess why he didn’t have one on his crew.

Cat-Viper padded up beside him, claws tapping softly on the damp deck. His ears twitched uneasily. “Lord Hikaru, just how in the hell did you pass through this the first time?” he asked, signalling to the sea with his eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you,” he chuckled, patting Cat-Viper on the shoulder. 

The other three members of his crew, who all had been secretly eavesdropping, shot him sour looks—just what he was waiting for.

“Fine, fine,” he waved, magnanimously deciding to enlighten them about his escapades. “Really, the lot of you pretend to be so mature, then resort to this when you don’t have your way.”

The quartet immediately perked up, leaning in with identical expectant expressions.

He spread his hands.

“There I stood, facing the greatest adversary to all of Wano: its great waterfall,” he paused, letting the scene build. 

“Where others paled and found their adventure ending, I saw an opportunity. I wasn’t about to be beaten by some water. So, I remained there, waiting for a koi to rise, and then
I lept and rode it to freedom,” he grinned, reveling in the awestruck looks. 

Cat-Viper’s own expression was strung between disbelief and veneration. “A koi?”

He nodded. 

“One bigger than any you’ve ever seen at the waterfall,” he replied.

“Uh, Lord Hikaru, I hate to ruin the moment, but we’re really close to the waterfall.”

He nodded at Onimaru and quickly turned his gaze toward Kawamtsu. “Helmsman?”

“I see a vein,” Kawamatsu said, his eyes locked ahead. “The whirlpools aren’t random. If I time it right, we pass through the gaps before they snap shut.”

Hikaru gave a small nod. “Then we leave it to you.”

The deck fell silent.

Even Cat-Viper’s usual restlessness vanished. Onimaru crouched lower. The two younger Minks stood frozen near the rail, gripping it tightly.. Their ears were flat, eyes wide, breathing shallow.

Only Hikaru looked forward.

Kawamatsu gripped the helm with steady, unblinking focus. Every twitch of his fingers adjusted their course, nudging the rudder, tilting the angle, threading them through spirals of roaring current.

One final whirlpool loomed ahead, its mouth wide, pulling hard.

He spun the wheel.

The ship tilted. Water slammed against the hull.

They cut through the spiral with a crashing roar—and then, suddenly—

The sea turned blue. Deep, endless blue. The ghost currents beneath them peeled away like shadows at sunrise, and above, the sky opened wide. 

They were through.

They had broken free of Wano’s cursed waters.

The New World stretched out before them.

Kawamatsu exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping. “We’re clear.”

Cat-Viper let out a wild whoop from the rigging. “We made it!”

Dogstorm leaned on the railing, ears flicking back as he stared at the fading storm behind them.

“The cursed sea of Wano
 left in our wake.”

At the prow, Hikaru stepped forward.

The world had opened.

Now it was theirs to cross.

.

Hikaru moved to the helm, standing beside Kawamatsu.

“No need to chase the log pose,” he said quietly. “Just follow the vivre card. Let it guide us for now.”

Kawamatsu gave a curt nod. “Understood.” His grip on the wheel loosened just slightly as he adjusted their bearing.

A few paces away, chaos was already brewing.

Cat-Viper and Dogstorm stood nose to nose, tails twitching, voices rising.

“I’m taking the hammock,” Cat-Viper growled. “You got the window side room last time in the mansion.”

Dogstorm jabbed a claw at him. “Because you snore and drool in your sleep. I’m not waking up soaked again.”

“That was condensation!”

“That was you.”

Cat-Viper dropped to all fours, fur bristling. “Fine. We’ll settle it the old way. First one to land a tail-slap wins.”

“You want to fight over a bed?”

“You want to lose your head over a bed?”

Atop the highest crate, Onimaru watched in fox form, tail curling once with tired disdain. He let out a quiet huff, stood, and padded toward the cabin, clearly deciding this was no longer his problem. A nap certainly sounded better than listening to round two of this nonsense.

“They’re going to argue about every meal, every watch shift, every bed, aren’t they?”

Hikaru clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the helmsman, not the babysitter.”

“Hmm, didn’t feel like that the last few years,” Kawamatsu muttered, already shifting the rudder slightly. The ship creaked but held course.

Hikaru laughed.

“Come on, Kawamatsu. Embrace it,” he said. “It’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. Have you ever tried crossing the sea with nothing but silence and tinned beans for company? The worst part of sailing is the boredom.” He gestured at the pair of growling furballs clawing at each other’s pride. “They’re a free entertainment package.”

Cat-Viper had Dogstorm in a half-hug, half-headlock. Dogstorm’s teeth were gritted. Their tails were a blur.

“Right,” Hikaru said, stepping in. “Break it up.”

“HE STARTED IT—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m finishing it,” Hikaru said. “Cat-Viper, you get the lower bunk. Dogstorm, you get the hammock.”

They recoiled like slapped otters.

“Thought not,” Hikaru said. “I’ve got my own captain’s cabin, so you two can rotate for the window view if it matters that much.”

Cat-Viper opened his mouth. Hikaru raised a brow.

“Or,” he said slowly, “I can toss you both in the storage hold and let the sea decide who deserves sunlight.”

“Lower bunk sounds great,” Cat-Viper said.

“Love the hammock,” Dogstorm agreed.

“Good.” Hikaru turned toward the galley, then paused. “Dogstorm, come with me. You’re helping with dinner.”

“What? Why me?”

“You lost the argument.”

“That’s not—”

Hikaru didn’t even need to look back to see Cat-Viper’s smugness; he could practically feel it.

“Come on, stormy. You can peel a yam, can’t you?”

Dogstorm growled something under his breath and trudged after him.

Hikaru turned his head. “Cat-Viper, eyes on the sea. You’re on lookout. Let me know if any pirate ship comes near. If they don’t look like they’re attacking, don’t bother us. Just steer.”

Cat-Viper gave a sloppy salute with one claw. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

.

[One Hour Later]

Dogstorm leaned his elbow on the railing, face pulled into a scowl of pure boredom. His ears flicked in the wind, eyes locked on the sea.

Nothing.

The same stretch of endless blue. The same cloud that had passed them three times already.

He let out a slow, dramatic sigh.

“How long has it been?” he muttered. “Five hours? Six?”

Kawamatsu, still at the helm, didn’t look away from the compass. “One.”

Dogstorm groaned and slumped forward. “Feels like twelve.”

“Such is the life of a lookout,” Kawamatsu said dryly.

Another moment of silence. Then Dogstorm straightened, his eyes narrowing.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“There’s a ship.”

Kawamatsu turned, following the Mink’s gaze. A pale vessel drifted along the horizon, white sails, square hull, polished wood. No Jolly Roger, no battle flags, no cannons out.

Just cargo crates and crew in plain clothes moving about.

“Transport vessel,” Kawamatsu said after a moment. “Civilians.”

Dogstorm squinted. “Probably heading for some port nearby.”

“Let them pass.”

Dogstorm shrugged and leaned back on the rail. “Kinda hoped for some action, though. A little skirmish wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re itching for a fight already?”

“I’m a warrior,” Dogstorm said. “It’s in the blood. Too much peace is bad for my health.”

Kawamatsu gave a quiet chuckle.

Then—

Another ship.

Off the port side this time. It had a Jolly Roger, alright. An unfamiliar one, crimson shark teeth curled into a grin. No movement toward them. No cannon shifts.

Instead, a flare went up from the deck. A brief golden light, a flare of signal fire.

Peace.

They passed by without changing course.

Dogstorm blinked. “Seriously?”

“They’re not here for us,” Kawamatsu said, unmoved.

The Mink crossed his arms, visibly annoyed. “Lame. That’s twice now.”

Kawamatsu didn’t reply.

Dogstorm muttered, “Thought this was supposed to be the New World. Not New Bore.”

Thunk.

Kawamatsu’s palm met the back of Dogstorm’s head, firm but not angry.

“Ow—HEY!”

“Have you already forgotten Lord Hikaru’s lessons?” Kawamatsu asked, a little disappointed. “Pirates aren’t just one thing under a single organization like the Marines under the World Government. Some are adventurers. Labeled criminals by the World Government for sailing free.”

Dogstorm rubbed his skull, sulking.

“Others were forced to flee their homelands, left with no choice but to take to the seas. Not everyone with a skull flag is a villain.”

“And the third kind?” Dogstorm asked, still frowning.

“The ones you want to fight,” Kawamatsu said. “Pirates who rape and pillage. Those are gonna be our enemies, from what Lord Hikaru told us.”

He steered slightly, angling the ship just past a gentle current. “But we don’t get to decide that every time. We aren’t judge, jury, nor executioner.”

Dogstorm sighed. “Still would’ve been fun.”

Kawamatsu glanced at him. “Getting us sunk would not be.”

Dogstorm turned away, grumbling under his breath. “Maybe next ship’ll try something.”

Kawamatsu shook his head. “Idiot.”

.

Hikaru brought out some fresh snacks. The sea was calm. That should’ve been the first warning.

A crate of dried yakitori skewers sat between them. Onimaru had transformed into his mythical Onyudo form.

Kawamatsu was seated near the helm, still watchful but relaxed now. Dogstorm leaned against a barrel, chewing noisily, eyes lazily tracking a cloud overhead. Cat-Viper lay on his back, tail flicking, half-snoring, half-munching.

Then the first shell hit the water.

And everything went to hell.

BOOM.

A geyser erupted just a few meters off starboard, splashing the side of the Royal Fortune. The second blast was closer.

Hikaru straightened instantly, food forgotten.

“Oh come on,” he muttered, already moving. “Now, of all times?”

He hadn’t sensed them. Observation Haki, unfortunately for them, wasn’t a divine alarm bell; it took stamina to keep it active, and his range wasn’t limitless. He let it rest when there wasn’t a threat.

That was the trade-off.

Now they were paying the price.

Another cannonball screamed toward them, mid-air. Hikaru’s blade flashed from his hip in a blur.

BOOM!

The bomb split cleanly in half, both pieces veering wide and crashing into the sea harmlessly.

“Helmsman!” Hikaru barked.

Kawamatsu had already jumped up. “On it!” He spun the rudder, veering toward the hostile ship.

Hikaru pointed.

“Get us closer. No retreat.”

Then his gaze snapped to the crew.

“Onimaru. Dogstorm. Cat-Viper. You’re with him,” he said, gesturing to Kawamatsu. “Take the fight to them.”

The four warriors nodded at once.

Hikaru stayed behind. 

It wasn’t rare for the captain to stay behind, and besides, he wanted to see the current level of his crew. 

He had no desire for a crew full of bums—cough, Luffy, cough.

Each of them drew a weapon.

Kawamatsu unsheathed a slim-bladed katana.

Dogstorm pulled his blade free.

Cat-Viper cracked his neck.

 â€œAbout damn time,” he muttered, grabbing his own katana with both paws.

Onimaru grabbed his Naginata from his back. Hikaru didn’t even bother questioning where it came from. The fox always had it whenever he transformed.

They stepped to the edge of the deck.

Kawamatsu was first to leap. His sandals kicked off the air—Geppo. A nice little trick Hikaru taught them.

The others followed, launching themselves toward the enemy ship with effortless air-steps. The New World didn’t reward laziness. Geppo was everywhere; if you trained for it, even random bums in the New World could learn it.

They landed hard.

The enemy crew reeled back.

Dogstorm landed in a crouch and cleaved straight through the first pirate that drew a gun.
Cat-Viper spun behind him, tail whipping as he launched a kick into two others.

Kawamatsu danced between them, slicing tendons, disabling rather than killing. He always fought cleaner than the rest.

Onimaru didn’t carry fancy skills. His blade blurred like wind in a storm, its curved form carving three enemies in a single sweep. His white fur now slick with salt, his gold armor gleaming.

Back on the Royal Fortune, Hikaru watched the ship rock and lurch as the fight unfolded.

The enemy crew was no joke, but they weren’t exceptional either. Still, Hikaru could bet money they were a good bit stronger than the average pirate crew after the era Roger inspired started. 

Marines had enough manpower and resources to hunt down crews. 

They didn’t have to worry about the entire world salivating at the thought of a great treasure.  

Every flag flown was a declaration of war against a world that had actual time and funding to end them.

Only the strong—or idiotic—picked this path in this era.

Hikaru stepped to the rail, blade still drawn, eyes locked on the burning ship ahead as the fight ended. 

Corpses.

Everywhere.

Half the pirate crew lay unconscious, the rest were either dead or moaning, coughing up blood through broken teeth. Blood smeared the mast. One man, his arm twisted at an impossible angle, whimpered something about mercy. No one answered him.

Dogstorm clicked his tongue. “We really did a number on them.”

Hikaru crouched beside a body, eyes open, mouth slack, sword still clenched in a limp hand.

“Pathetic,” he muttered. “They fired first and now are expecting mercy.”

He stood and stepped over to the door leading to the captain’s quarters. It hung half-broken on one hinge. One shove and it creaked open. Inside, a mess of maps, gold-lined chests, and loose papers littered the floor.

Onimaru padded in behind him in fox form, nose twitching. In his full form, he couldn’t even fit through the doors. He sniffed once at a map and sneezed, then curled up near a gold pouch.

Kawamatsu pulled a folder off a shelf and flipped through it.

“Captain’s bounty,” he said, holding up the paper. “Sixty million.”

Hikaru’s brow arched slightly.

“Sixty?” he repeated. “That high for someone who fires and hides?”

Kawamatsu flipped a few more pages. “Three more bounties. Twenty. Twenty-five. Thirty.”

Dogstorm grabbed one of the posters. “This guy had his bounty laminated.”

Hikaru looked over, dry. “Of course he did.”

“Doesn’t that seem
 egotistical?” Dogstorm said.

“It is,” Hikaru said. “But to most pirates, a bounty is your pride. Bragging rights.”

Hell, if he had a high enough bounty, he’d have it framed. 

He shook his head, eyes scanning the loot strewn across the room.

He turned toward Kawamatsu. “Check the map. See if there's a marine base nearby. If there is, we’re dropping this trash off.”

Kawamatsu nodded, handed off the papers to Cat-Viper, and leapt back across the air toward the Royal Fortune.

Cat-Viper tilted one of the chests open with his foot. “Hey, this one’s full of rings. Silver, gold
 looks like wedding bands.”

Dogstorm whistled. “You think they robbed a cruise?”

“Or a town. These guys certainly didn’t earn their bounty through fighting.”

Hikaru said nothing, already moving toward the storage boxes. He cracked open the first with the hilt of his sword. Jewels, a few folded wads of beli, and something that looked like a noble’s seal.

“Take it all,” he said. “If it shines, we keep it.”

They moved quickly, scooping coins into sacks, cracking boxes. Onimaru, still in fox form, sat on a table, batting at a golden compass like it was a toy.

Kawamatsu landed on the deck again five minutes later.

“There’s a small marine outpost southeast of here. Reaching the island would take a few hours. They might have a bounty officer stationed.”

Hikaru slung a bag over his shoulder and nodded. “Good. That’ll work.”

Cat-Viper frowned, balancing three rings on one claw. “We’re going to a marine base?”

Dogstorm barked a laugh. “Don’t worry about him, Lord Hikaru; he can’t help being a scaredy-cat!”

Before they could start another fight, he interrupted them.

“Money’s money,” he said. “And Wano needs it.”

They all fell quiet.

Hikaru glanced down at a coin in his hand—plain silver, stamped with the face of some long-dead king.

“You know Wano’s currency doesn’t mean anything out here,” he said. “Our coin’s worthless. You walk into a port with Ryo, and they’ll laugh you off, or arrest you for fraud.”

He pocketed the coin. “If we want to build something
 if we want to buy ships, weapons, protection—we need real money. Beli.”

Dogstorm crossed his arms. “I haven’t thought about that, my lord.”

Hikaru looked toward the horizon. “Strip this ship clean. We’re going to cash in.”