Chapter 30 – Sky Island "Birka"
With his eyes closed, Tachibana Kyūjō focused the full extent of his advanced Kenbunshoku Haki, pushing his awareness beyond the limits of his physical body and piercing through the thick layers of clouds hanging high above.
In moments, his consciousness ascended to nearly ten thousand meters.
Up here, the clouds were dense—almost like a sea of liquid milk—and beyond that strange white ocean floated countless islands, large and small, scattered like an archipelago in the Grand Line.
People lived here—humanoid in shape but with small white wings sprouting from their backs. They moved about with gentle smiles, leading simple, peaceful lives.
Kyūjō could tell instantly—Enel hadn't arrived yet. This sky was still untouched by the divine lightning's wrath.
Once he was certain of the situation, he withdrew his Haki's reach.
— — —
The warship carrying Vice Admiral Fire Mountain and Kyūjō did not dock at Jaya Island. About half an hour later, they reached the border between G2 and G7 territory.
After all the paperwork and prisoner transfers were wrapped up, Kyūjō turned to Fire Mountain with a polite smile.
"That's as far as I'll go. Next time you visit G2, I'll treat you to the finest roasted Sea King meat."
They exchanged a few parting words before Kyūjō and Hina returned to the Blue Dragon.
This time, however, Kyūjō didn't order the ship to turn back right away. His gaze stayed fixed on the sky above—the same sky where that floating island he'd glimpsed through Haki lay waiting.
He'd long ago decided never to eat a Devil Fruit.
But the Goro Goro no Mi—the legendary Lightning Fruit—was close. Far too close.
Its temptation gnawed away at the resolve he'd once considered unshakable.
Eat it… or not?
The question echoed in his mind, like two halves of his soul arguing.
The white side whispered: Eat it! This is the truest power of this world! Three of the Four Emperors are Devil Fruit users. Even Admirals… even Luffy!
The black side snarled back: Nonsense! You don't know where this power really comes from. What if Devil Fruits are part of some grand conspiracy? Nothing in this world is free. Who knows what happens to their souls after death?
The debate went on without end.
Before he could decide, Amos' voice cut through his thoughts.
"Vice Admiral Seiryu, we should head back to base."
Kyūjō nodded faintly. Even with his mind unsettled, he'd already reached one conclusion:
Whether I eat it or not… I'll get my hands on that Fruit first.
— — —
A lone figure shot into the sky.
Stepping through the air with Geppō, Kyūjō rose past the thick cloud layers into the world above—the White Sea.
The air here was painfully thin, every breath harder than the last—even for a swordsman who had merged specialized breathing techniques with the physical reinforcement of Haki.
The lack of oxygen slowed recovery and sapped explosive power. It was like throwing Aokiji into a volcano, or Akainu into a polar wasteland. But Kyūjō knew—true warriors never blamed the environment.
His feet sank slightly into the dense cloud surface, soft yet solid, rippling gently under his steps.
"…I wonder what the fish here taste like."
For a traveler and food lover like him, thoughts of exploring the island's cuisine came just as naturally as thoughts of battle.
— — —
Guided by his Kenbunshoku Haki, he avoided the patrols of the shrine guards with ease, eventually arriving at the palace of the current God of the Sky—Gan Fall.
Kyūjō gave a light cough, drawing Gan Fall's attention from the feather quill in his hand.
The Sky God looked up, meeting the gaze of a tall man with a long sword at his hip, wearing clothes unlike any Skypiean, and—most strikingly—bearing no wings on his back.
"You… are a man from the Blue Sea?" Gan Fall asked calmly. "What brings you to the sky?"
Kyūjō smiled warmly.
"That's right. From the Blue Sea. Maybe you don't know, but down there, there's an organization that maintains order—the Marines. We're like law enforcers."
"I'm not here to fight. I just want to ask you something."
Gan Fall studied him for a moment, still cautious, but reassured by the man's lack of hostility.
"…What is it you wish to ask?"
"I'm looking for a Sky Island called Birka."
Gan Fall nodded slowly.
"Birka is one of the smaller islands in the White Sea. Not too far… but not exactly close either."
Seeing confusion flicker in Gan Fall's eyes, Kyūjō explained,
"I'm looking for something there. I promise not to harm anyone—whether from Birka or anywhere else."
Gan Fall regarded him in silence, then picked up his quill once more and sketched Birka's location onto a Sky Island navigation chart.
Kyūjō bowed slightly, accepting the map with a nod. And in the next moment—his presence vanished from the room.
— — —
The following day, after a long journey across the clouds—resting multiple times along the way—Kyūjō finally saw a green shape appear on the horizon. Birka.
He landed in a small, hidden forest on the southern side of the island.
Instead of searching immediately for the Goro Goro no Mi, he prioritized something far more urgent—food.
— — —
About ten minutes later, Kyūjō dragged the carcass of a massive Sky Island boar—several tons in weight—into a clearing.
With a casual swing of Rairyūken, he carved a pit into the ground. Then, chopping down nearby trees, he separated the thick trunks for firewood and the smaller ones for a makeshift spit.
By running his Busoshoku Haki-hardened palm along the back of Rairyūken, he struck sparks, igniting the dry leaves until a steady flame took hold.
He knew well—meat should never be cooked over direct flame. For the best results, you use the heat of glowing embers. Flames only burn the outside, leaving the inside raw.
While waiting, he butchered and cleaned the boar, seasoning it with a mix of pure salt and dried honey stored in Rairyūken's hilt.
After massaging the meat for over ten minutes, he hung it above the coals to roast.
— — —
The sweet scent of honey and spices mixed with the melting fat of boar, sending a mouthwatering aroma drifting through the forest—enough to stir every beast within range.
But their instincts told them—stay away from this man.
Meanwhile, a young man with a wild afro and long, drooping ears peered toward the source of the smell, his stomach growling painfully.
Thin, pale, and with lifeless eyes, he swallowed hard—fighting off the gnawing hunger that had plagued him for days.
This was… Enel, still in his youth.
— — —
Kyūjō, still chewing on his portion of meat, turned his head slightly without lifting it.
"Hungry? Come on, eat. No way I can finish a boar this big by myself."
He'd sensed the boy's presence from the start—though the life force he felt was fragile, unhealthy.
Enel blinked.
"R-Really… I can… eat too?"
"Of course," Kyūjō said simply. "Don't be shy. Sit."
Enel edged closer, stopping five meters away, afraid to intrude.
Kyūjō carefully cut a slab from the boar's belly—the perfect balance of fat and meat—and handed it over with a small knife.
That's when he got a good look at the boy's long, drooping ears.
Long ears… Could it be… Enel?
But this figure was so gaunt and pitiful—nothing like the future God of Thunder.
Kyūjō didn't pry further. He simply returned to his meal.
By the time they'd eaten half the boar, Enel was leaning back against a tree, belly full and eyes heavy.
Kyūjō lit a cigarette from his pocket—a prize "borrowed" from Hina—and exhaled slowly.
"You're not originally from around here, are you?"
Enel blinked.
"You mean… not a local?"
He shook his head.
"I guess not… I don't have wings like the others…"
Only then did he realize—the man before him had no wings either.
Suddenly, Enel lunged closer, gripping Kyūjō's arm, eyes wide with emotion—and the questions began to pour out.
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