Shanks looked up at Roger, eyes full of admiration and confusion, before nodding hard.
Beside him, Buggy stared wide-eyed at the straw hat Roger was solemnly passing on. Bathed in the soft glow of the sunset, that hat wasn't just any piece of headgear. Buggy knew all too well what it symbolized—glory, inheritance, the will of the Pirate King himself.
The moment carved itself into his heart, a storm of emotions he could barely contain.
Roger's gaze swept across the crew before settling on Buggy. The Pirate King crouched down, ruffling the boy's hair with a warm hand. His words were heavy with hope:
"And you, Buggy. One day, you'll set out on a journey of your own. So keep pushing forward, alright?"
Buggy's throat tightened. He wanted to answer, but no sound came out. He could only nod again and again.
"Shanks, come with me for a moment."
Roger led him toward the stern and whispered a few words into his ear. As the secret sank in, Shanks trembled. Tears welled up, spilling down his cheeks and onto the deck—onto a heart shaken to its core.
Watching from afar, Shiro understood: Roger had revealed Shanks's true lineage.
The air grew heavy again, weighed down by unspoken sorrow. But Roger broke it with his trademark roar of laughter:
"Alright, everyone! We made it back from the Final Island, didn't we? That calls for a feast—wahahahahaha!"
Like sunlight burning away mist, his laughter chased off the gloom. The crew cheered, clinking cups, voices swelling with renewed spirit.
But as the banquet waned, Roger's voice rang out again—steady, resolute, tinged with farewell.
"From this day on, the Roger Pirates are officially disbanded. The Oro Jackson will carry each of you to the island you choose."
The crew fell silent. Only the waves against the hull spoke, carrying the ache of parting.
They'd long known this day might come. But after years braving storms and sharing triumphs, they were more than comrades—they were family. Now that the moment of separation was here, who among them could bear it without tears?
Many wept openly. Buggy bawled the loudest. Just thirteen, weak compared to his seniors, he had always been sheltered by their strength. The thought of facing the unknown sea alone filled him with dread. Worse, he still regretted accidentally swallowing that Devil Fruit meant to be sold—leaving him vulnerable to drowning.
Compared to the veterans' grief, Oden and his family were calmer. They had only been aboard a year; the bonds were strong, but not yet as deep.
Even Bullet, the battle-crazed fighter who'd once trusted no one, hid in a corner wiping his eyes. Betrayed by his homeland, his heart had turned to iron long ago. Yet here, under Roger's warmth and in the company of rivals like Shiro, he'd come to learn the strength of true camaraderie.
Shiro caught him in the act and smirked.
"Oi, Bullet. What's this? Gonna cry now that the crew's breaking up?"
Bullet quickly rubbed his face, scowling like a sulky child.
"Shut up! I'm not clinging to this dumb pirate crew!"
Shiro chuckled, covering his mouth. Then he challenged,
"Fine then. Before we disband—let's have one last duel."
Bullet's iron fists cracked against each other, eyes blazing.
"Bring it on!"
They clashed fiercely on deck. Shiro already outmatched him, but he held back, trading blows until Bullet's gloom was swept away by the fight. When the timing felt right, Shiro broke it off with a sigh.
"Still a draw, huh? Boring. Guess I'll save my strength for other opponents out on the seas."
Bullet, back to his fiery self, grinned.
"Shiro, don't you slack off. I'll surpass you someday!"
shiro only smiled, eyes full of quiet blessings.
The Oro Jackson sailed on, but no one rushed to leave. The crew lingered, tracing the familiar rails, touching the places heavy with memory.
Roger knew it couldn't go on.
When they reached Baterilla Island in the South Blue, he was the first to step ashore.
Turning back, he called to his men with a smile as wide as the horizon:
"Brothers! I'll be the first. Now it's your turn—find a home, start families. If fate allows, twenty-five years from now, we'll meet again! And if any of us can't make it… then our children will carry on! Wahahahahaha!"
His laughter rolled across the waves, scattering the sorrow and filling their hearts with hope.
The crew brightened, shouting back their promises to marry, to raise children, to dream of that reunion.
Oden's family disembarked next. But not before a curious incident…
That sunny day, young Momonosuke was playing happily with the sword spirit. No one expected what happened next—the spirit "accidentally" swung the Tetanus Fang right across his lower body.
In truth, Shiro had orchestrated it.
Momonosuke howled in pain, rolling across the deck, his cries drawing Oden and Toki in panic.
Shiro rushed forward, scolding the sword spirit for show, then reassured the parents:
"Don't worry! I can heal him with my Paw-Paw Fruit!"
As he treated the boy, Shiro secretly removed what he deemed "useless baggage," casting it into the sea to feed the fish.
When it was over, Momonosuke looked perfectly fine on the surface. Seeing their son whole again, Oden and Toki wept with relief, bowing their thanks.
Shiro smiled gently and waved it off.
"This is nothing. It's what I should do."
T/N: If you would like to read up to 20 chapters ahead for all my works, check out my P@treon: patreon.com/GhidorahWriter
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