The Red Force was tossed like a toy in the hands of a giant. Towering waves crashed over the deck, and the wind howled like a beast, tearing at the sails and rigging. The crew fought valiantly to keep the ship afloat, but the storm was relentless.
"Hold the line, men!" Shanks bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. His crimson hair was plastered to his face as he gripped the railing, his sharp eyes scanning the tempest. Despite the danger, a grin tugged at his lips. "This is what it means to be a pirate!"
Yasopp, the crew's master sniper, was near the bow, his long rifle slung across his back. He squinted through the rain, trying to gauge the distance to the nearest island. "Captain, this storm's not letting up! We need to find shelter, or we're done for!"
Before Shanks could respond, a monstrous wave rose from the depths, crashing down on the Red Force with the strength of a sea king. The ship lurched violently, throwing crew members off their feet. The mast groaned under the strain, and a loud crack echoed as the main sail tore free.
"Brace yourselves!" Shanks shouted, but it was too late. Another wave, even larger than the last, slammed into the ship. The force of the impact sent Yasopp tumbling over the railing and into the raging sea.
"Yasopp!" Shanks' voice was intense with urgency. Without a second thought, he leaped overboard, diving into the churning waters after his crewmate. The storm swallowed them both, the waves pulling them under.
The crew of the Red Force watched in horror as their captain and sniper disappeared into the sea. Benn Beckman, the first mate, immediately took charge. "Lower the lifeboats! We're not losing them to this storm!" he barked, his voice steady despite the chaos.
The crew scrambled to obey, but the storm was unrelenting. The Red Force was badly damaged, and the waves made it nearly impossible to launch the lifeboats. "Benn, we can't hold her much longer!" Lucky Roux shouted, his usual cheer replaced by grim determination.
"Then we'll find them after the storm!" Benn replied, his keen eyes scanning the water. "Shanks and Yasopp are survivors. They'll make it through this."
Shanks fought against the waves, his strength waning with each stroke. He surfaced, gasping for air, and scanned the chaos. "Yasopp!" he shouted, his voice barely carrying over the wind. He spotted a flash of movement in the water and swam toward it.
Yasopp was struggling against the current, his strength nearly gone. He coughed up seawater, his instincts kicking in. "Captain...!" he managed to choke out before another wave dragged him under.
Shanks dove after him, his powerful strokes cutting through the water. He grabbed Yasopp by the arm, pulling him to the surface. "Hang on, Yasopp! We're not dying today!"
Yasopp nodded weakly, his grip on Shanks' arm tightening. The two men fought against the waves, their bond as crewmates giving them the strength to keep going.
The storm had passed, leaving behind an eerie calm. The once-raging sea now stretched endlessly in all directions, its surface shimmering under the moon's pale light. Shanks and Yasopp floated adrift, their bodies battered and exhausted. There was no boat, no debris to cling to—just the vast, unyielding ocean.
Shanks lay on his back, his crimson hair fanning out in the water like a fiery halo. His chest rose and fell slowly as he stared up at the starry sky, his sharp eyes reflecting the faint glow of the moon. Despite their dire situation, a faint smile played on his lips. "Well, Yasopp," he said, his voice calm and steady, "this isn't exactly how I planned to spend the evening."
Yasopp, floating nearby, let out a weak chuckle. His hat was long gone, and his eyes were half-closed from exhaustion. "You always did have a knack for understatement, Captain," he replied, his voice hoarse from swallowing seawater. "But I have to admit, this is a new low—even for us."
The two men drifted in silence for a moment, the gentle lapping of the waves the only sound. The ocean was vast and unforgiving, but Shanks' presence was a steady anchor. Yasopp glanced over at his captain, his smirk returning despite their predicament. "You know, if we make it out of this, the crew's never going to let us live it down."
Shanks laughed, the sound carrying over the quiet sea. "True enough. But I think Benn will be more relieved than anything. He hates when I pull stunts like this."
Yasopp shook his head, wincing as a wave splashed over his face. "You call jumping into a stormy sea to save me a 'stunt'? You're something else, Captain."
Shanks' grin widened. "What can I say? I can't let my best sniper drown. Who else would keep the crew in line when I'm not around?"
Yasopp chuckled, but his expression grew serious as he scanned the horizon. "Do you think they're looking for us?"
"Of course they are," Shanks replied without hesitation. "Benn won't rest until he finds us. And Lucky Roux? He's probably already cooking up a feast for when we get back."
Yasopp smiled faintly, his eyes softening. "Yeah... you're right. They'll come for us."
The two men floated in companionable silence, the stars above their only company. Shanks closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of the waves lull him into a sense of calm. "You know, Yasopp," he said after a while, "this isn't the worst place to be. The sea has a way of putting things into perspective."
Yasopp raised an eyebrow, glancing at his captain. "You mean like how we're completely helpless and at the mercy of the ocean?"
Shanks chuckled. "Exactly. It reminds us that no matter how strong we think we are, the sea is always stronger. But that's what makes it exciting, don't you think?"
Yasopp shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "You're insane, Captain. But I guess that's why we follow you."
Somewhere in the distance, the faint glow of dawn began to break over the horizon. Shanks opened his eyes, gaze fixed on the light. "Looks like the sun's coming up," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Let's make sure we're still around to see it."
Yasopp nodded, his smirk returning. "Aye, Captain. We're not dying today."
*****
The infirmary doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Marya stepped out into the hallway, her golden eyes squinting against the bright fluorescent lights. She stretched her arms, wincing slightly as the movement tugged at her healing side, but the discomfort did little to dampen her restless energy. She had been cooped up in that sterile, white-walled prison for far too long, and the thought of freedom was intoxicating. She turned to glance back at the infirmary with a mix of relief and irritation.
Natalie, her blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail and her white coat slightly askew, stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. Her blue eyes, usually full of fiery passion, were softened with concern, though she tried to hide it behind a scowl. "Don't think this means you're off the hook," she said, her voice sharp but laced with worry. "You're still not at full strength, so don't go running off to fight another Vice Admiral or whatever reckless thing you're planning next."
Marya smirked, her overconfidence shining through as she leaned casually against the wall. "Relax, Nat. I'm fine. You've been hovering over me like a mother hen for days. If I didn't know better, I'd think you actually cared."
Natalie's cheeks flushed, and she pointed a finger at Marya, her short temper flaring. "Of course I care, you idiot! You came in here half-dead, and I'm the one who had to patch you up! Do you have any idea how scary that was? You're lucky I didn't strap you to the bed!"
Marya raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Oh, so you do care. How touching."
Natalie groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? I should've kept you in there another week just to teach you a lesson."
Marya's smirk faltered for a moment, and she tilted her head, her reflective nature surfacing. "Wait… how long could I have left ago?"
Natalie froze, her eyes widening slightly as she realized her slip. She opened her mouth to respond, but Marya was already moving. In one swift motion, Marya grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and hurled it at Natalie with impressive accuracy.
"You kept me here two extra days?!" Marya exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and mock outrage.
Natalie ducked, the pillow sailing over her head and hitting the wall behind her with a soft thud. She straightened up, sticking her tongue out at Marya like a petulant child. "You needed the rest! And don't act like you wouldn't have done something stupid the second you were out of here!"
Marya crossed her arms, her golden eyes narrowing playfully. "Nat. I don't do 'stupid.'"
Natalie snorted, her hands on her hips. "Right, because charging headfirst into a fight with a Vice Admiral is the pinnacle of intelligence."
Marya opened her mouth to retort, but then paused, a slow grin spreading across her face. "You were worried about me. Admit it."
Natalie rolled her eyes, but the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. "Whatever. Just… try not to get yourself killed, okay? I don't want to have to patch you up again."
Marya's grin softened, and she reached out to ruffle Natalie's hair, earning a swat and a half-hearted glare. "Thanks, Nat. For everything."
Natalie batted her hand away, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't make a habit of it. Now get out of here before I change my mind and drag you back to bed."
Marya laughed, the sound light and carefree, as she turned and walked down the hallway, her steps full of restless energy. Natalie watched her go, shaking her head but unable to suppress her smile. As Marya disappeared around the corner, Natalie muttered to herself, "Idiot."