It's been three months since Ms. Shakuyaku invited me to officially join the Kuja Pirates.
In the end, I chose to leave the ship.
My time with everyone on the pirate ship had been fulfilling and enjoyable, and I was truly grateful for their kindness and care.
But I never really wanted to be a pirate in the first place. All I ever wanted was to live a peaceful life with my parents and everyone in the village—a dream that was now impossible.
I didn't crave a dangerous and thrilling life, nor did I want to live by fighting.
Besides... the Kuja were, after all, pirates.
In the world of One Piece, they weren't what you'd call "Peace Main"—those so-called honorable thieves or vigilantes who only preyed on other criminals. They attacked ordinary merchant ships, towns, and villages indiscriminately.
Back then, the Kuja Pirates weren't even affiliated with the Shichibukai yet, which made things even worse. They didn't give a damn about the government's disapproval and casually raided civilian ships and towns without a second thought.
...It happened several times while I was on board.
I always stayed behind on deck duty during those raids, so I never witnessed them firsthand. Maybe that's why it didn't weigh too heavily on my heart.
I couldn't bring myself to actively participate in that kind of piracy. I just couldn't.
After careful consideration, I decided I wouldn't become a pirate.
Ms. Shakuyaku respected my decision completely and didn't blame me at all.
The rest of the crew seemed disappointed, but they understood that forcing the issue would only cause trouble. No one tried to change my mind.
Many of the crew were simply disappointed that my departure would mean more work for them.
"Sorry, everyone," I said. "From now on, I'll be doing my own cleaning, laundry, and even reading the newspaper myself."
As planned, I was dropped off at the next port of call. Ms. Shakuyaku kindly put in a good word with the town's authorities, securing me a job and a place to live.
I ended up relying on her for everything, right up until the very end.
Three months had passed since I parted ways with the Kuja Pirates.
I was now living peacefully on an island within Kuja territory.
My work mainly consisted of the same odd jobs I'd done on the ship. I could handle a variety of tasks, but I didn't have any specialized skills, so I was sent wherever extra hands were needed.
I guess you could call me a handyman, or maybe just a jack-of-all-trades.
Understandably, the authorities were hesitant to let a five-year-old live alone, so I ended up staying with an elderly couple in a boarding-house-like arrangement.
As it happened, their daughter had recently gotten married and moved out, leaving them feeling lonely. They were happy to take me in.
"I'm sorry to intrude on your peaceful retirement," I said.
"Oh, you remind us of our daughter when she was little," the woman replied. "We love taking care of children, so it's no trouble at all. In fact, it brings us joy and makes us feel young again."
Hearing that made me feel so grateful.
They insisted I not stand on ceremony, so I started calling them Grandpa and Grandma, and they treated me like their own granddaughter in return.
Of course, besides helping with chores and errands, I continued my training as usual.
I still remembered everything I'd learned on the ship, from basic strength and endurance training to weapon handling drills.
"Practice makes perfect," they always said. I believed that starting rigorous training early would definitely pay off in the future.
Speaking of weapons, back on the Kuja ship, the crew insisted I try out every weapon on board. Among them, the ordinary sword felt the most natural. It just seemed to fit right in my hands.
Maybe it was just because I was clumsy and couldn't handle more complex weapons, but by the time I left the ship, I could take down a full-grown male pirate in a surprise attack. So I didn't think it was entirely the wrong fit.
For now, I'm focusing solely on sword training. I do my own practice swings, of course, but I also occasionally join the town's Self-Defense Corps training sessions.
At first, many adults hesitated to let such a small girl like me wield weapons, even though I was technically in the care of the Kuja. But just like with the ship, once they realized I had more potential than they expected, they shifted their approach. They started teaching me properly, adjusting the pace to suit my progress, which was a relief.
Of course, I wasn't being taught Haki. That's something only a fully trained warrior who can fight normally would learn, and even then, it takes years of dedicated practice. For someone as inexperienced as me, it was way too early. They told me I needed to grow up properly and become a competent fighter first.
They promised to teach me Haki once I reached the level of a full-fledged Kuja warrior. But since I'd refused to join the Kuja, that opportunity would never come.
Well, even though I won't become a pirate, I'll probably still have chances to see everyone from the Kuja Pirates.
This town is their territory, and their ships often stop here to resupply and rest during their voyages. So, they visit the port every few months, and I'll see them then.
They even told me, "We'll be checking up on you to make sure you're not slacking on your training!" They said they'd occasionally oversee my training when they dock here, even though I turned down joining their crew. I mean, how kind is that?
...If I'm lucky, maybe they'll even teach me how to use Haki someday... But that's probably wishful thinking.
Anyway, that's how I started my new life in this peaceful town—for now, at least. You never know what might happen in this era.
...And so, time passed...
It's already been five years since I left the Kuja ship. Time really flies.
This year, I turned ten.
Ten is still considered young, but in this world, there are kids who can take on adults single-handedly or hunt down massive beasts. So, I guess ten is considered "old enough to be reasonably capable."
Truthfully, I'd become quite capable myself. I was much stronger and more agile than before.
Over the past five years, I officially joined the Self-Defense Corps and started beating the adult men I trained with. My arm strength was now enough to wield a real sword effectively.
It felt great when not just the townspeople, but also everyone from Kuja who visited occasionally, praised my "talent" and how much stronger I'd become. They were even more disappointed I hadn't officially joined their ranks.
Still, I was apparently only half as good as a full-fledged Kuja warrior.
Of course. Everyone here trains rigorously from childhood to become warriors, and when the time comes, they even learn Haki.
A lot had changed in the past five years.
First off... well, obviously, I'd grown up.
This directly impacted my combat abilities, as I mentioned earlier. I'd gotten taller and gained strength and stamina.
You could see hints of it even when I was five, but I seemed to be developing faster than most kids my age. I was easily a head taller than the others, even the boys.
When I met new people, they often mistook me for being around fourteen.
As my body matured, I started getting those kinds of looks from men sometimes.
The boys I used to play with normally gradually stopped hanging out as much. Their eyes when they looked at me had changed, and I'd think, Ah, those guys... It left me feeling a bit weird.
Well, I guess it can't be helped, so I won't say anything. I don't mind if you just look. Go ahead and do what you want. But if you try to touch me, I'll fight back.
Honestly, though, I don't mind being looked at like that as long as it doesn't cause any real trouble.
Not to brag, but I'm pretty sure I grew up to be quite the beauty. I actually kind of like the attention.
Oh, and... the grandparents who took me in recently passed away.
Not from a pirate attack, injury, or illness—they simply lived out their natural lives.
I cared for them until the end and gave them proper funerals. Now they rest peacefully together in the family cemetery behind the house.
I inherited the house and still live here.
I always thought property like this would go to blood relatives, but their daughter and her husband actually gave me their blessing.
"As the unfilial child who left their elderly parents behind, I couldn't possibly presume to make such a request now. We already have a new home and aren't in any housing trouble."
"On the contrary, I'd gladly let you have it—you're the one who stayed with them until the end."
"I want you to continue protecting this house with your own hands."
Something like that.
How could I possibly refuse?
I was so grateful they said I could stay. If they'd kicked me out, I would've had to find an abandoned place and renovate it... so this was a real lifesaver.
Then there's something else. For me, this was the biggest—or rather, the most dramatic—change.
Over the past five years, I'd developed a hobby... or perhaps a full-blown obsession.
I've always loved books—well, anything with printed words. I used to devour newspapers and books like there was no tomorrow.
Even back on the Kuja Pirates' ship, I used to read the books we plundered every day. After leaving the ship in this town, I worked odd jobs at a bookstore, and they'd let me read books as payment.
Of course, when I had money, I'd buy the books I wanted and read them thoroughly at home. I especially loved adventure novels and would reread them countless times.
This love of books, or rather, this passion for the written word, eventually led me to try writing my own stories.
I wanted to bring the stories swirling in my head to life, so I bought some manuscript paper and started writing.
To my surprise, it was actually pretty fun, and I got hooked. I just wanted to write more and more.
Back on the ship, I used to run the "Sue-chan Newspaper," so I was already pretty good at writing and really enjoyed it.
After pouring my heart into writing, I desperately wanted someone to read it. But honestly, the thought of sharing my own story with others was pretty daunting when I thought about it. At first, I was too shy and hesitant.
After all, unlike modern Japan, there was no internet back then. It wasn't a world where you could easily share your work anonymously with strangers.
So, for starters, I asked my grandparents, who were still alive at the time, to be my first readers.
It was a young adult adventure novel, which might have been a bit tricky for them. Still, they told me it was "interesting." That made me so happy.
Of course, they were definitely biased, and I wasn't even sure if they fully understood the story (no offense to them!).
After repeating that process several times, about a year ago, I saw an advertisement in the newspaper for a New Writer's Novel Contest hosted by a certain publishing house. I decided to submit my work.
And guess what? I actually won!
It wasn't the grand prize or anything fancy—just a lower-tier "Effort Award"—but I was still incredibly happy. It felt like my writing had finally been recognized in a tangible way.
The judges' comments included harsh criticism alongside praise, but I didn't mind at all. In fact, it motivated me to think, "Alright, time to work even harder next time!"
Then there was something else that really pushed me to keep writing.
Well, it's not something that happened—it's something I'm doing right now.
"Alright, alright, everyone settle down and sit quietly, okay? It's story time again today!"
"Yay! Hooray!"
"What kind of story are we hearing today?"
"I want to hear that adventure story again! The one you told last time! It was so cool!"
"Ahaha, today's a different story. Some kids get bored if it's always the same. Today's about a brave knight who stood up for the girl he loved!"
If I had to describe it simply, it's like a volunteer read-aloud. You know, where you read books or show picture cards to little kids.
It's surprisingly popular. Almost all the town's young children gather twice a week for these sessions.
The read-aloud originally started as just once or twice a week, but the kids kept begging for more. The problem was, we were running out of stories to tell.
Not many children's books come in with the trade goods, so we ended up repeating the same ones every few times. That's when the kids would complain, "Again?" or "We heard that one last time!"
I racked my brain for a solution to the lack of children's books and decided to try telling the kids an original fairy tale I made up on the spot. To my surprise, it was a huge hit!
Not only did the kids love it, but their parents begged me to do it again.
In the end, I started creating my own stories to compensate for the shortage of children's books, which allowed me to increase the number of Read-Aloud sessions.
Now, some of these "original" tales were actually remakes of fairy tales from my past life, adapted to fit this world. But, well, I figured no one would mind too much.
Even though they're for kids, coming up with enough fairy tales for two Read-Aloud sessions a week is surprisingly tough.
When I think about it... those mangaka who manage to churn out 19-page comics every week for Weekly Shonen Magazine are seriously incredible. They're not just writing—they're drawing too!
So, that's how I ended up making writing novels and children's stories my hobby.
I make sure it doesn't interfere with my training or work, but I splurged on a fancy pen and enjoy writing on manuscript paper every day.
I never knew I loved writing this much. Maybe I was a novelist in a past life?
Ah, whatever! Now that I'm here, I'm going to give it my all!
If I can make a living from it someday, great. But even if I can't, I want to keep writing as a hobby forever.
I want to write stories that bring joy and uplift everyone!
I want as many people as possible to read them, enjoy them, and find happiness!
With this pen as my companion, I'll continue to live peacefully in this town, in this world, cherishing my own little slice of happiness!
Then, as time passed... two years later, in the year I turned twelve, it finally happened.
"My treasure? You want it? You can have it! Go find it! I left everything this world has to offer there!"
The execution of Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King.
His dying words sparked the dawn of the Great Pirate Era.
At that moment, I realized something: peace, whether you're vigilant or complacent, can vanish in an instant, triggered by some random event.
I was reminded anew of this brutal truth, one I should have already known.
To be continued...