In the year 1503 of the Sea Circle Calendar, the fifth year since the dawn of the Great Pirate Era, the same year Monkey D. Luffy and Usopp were born.
In the old town of Loguetown, there was a small tavern named Gold Roger.
It was an oppressively sweltering afternoon. Perhaps the heat was to blame, but the tavern had only two patrons—and they were both children.
The older of the two was a girl with strikingly beautiful silver hair, while the younger was a boy with black hair and dark eyes, half a head shorter than her. Both children were adorably delicate, like figures carved from jade.
The tavern's owner, an elderly man wearing round-tinted sunglasses, sat at a table with the two little ones, regaling them with stories from five years past.
"The day the Pirate King was executed, it was just as stiflingly hot as today," the old man said, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
"He was nothing like the other condemned prisoners. Even with handcuffs binding him, he strode down the path to the execution platform like a triumphant general!"
"Wealth, fame, power—that man, Gol D. Roger, who had claimed everything this world had to offer, walked toward his death with his back unbowed, still the lofty king who looked down upon the four seas!"
"Whoa!" the silver-haired girl exclaimed, her hands cupping her cheeks, her eyes sparkling with stars.
The boy, however, seemed uninterested in the tale of the Pirate King. He clutched a thick book, engrossed in its pages filled with dense, tiny print. It was a wonder he could read in the tavern's dim lighting.
"The will passed down through generations, the tides of the era, the dreams of humanity—these cannot be stopped. As long as people continue to seek the answer to freedom, these things will never cease."
The old man recited softly, then coughed a few times. After telling so many stories about the Pirate King, his throat felt parched. He poured himself a glass of liquor and gave the girl and her younger brother each a glass of juice before continuing his vivid tale.
"…'Do you want my treasure? Go and take it. I left it all there.' After saying those words, Roger's body was pierced by the executioner's blade. The king who conquered the Grand Line fell…" The old man's face grew somber, and a few tears welled up in the corners of the silver-haired girl's eyes.
"After Roger's death, the entire square erupted in earth-shaking cheers—not for the Pirate King's demise, but because his words gave them a dream!" The old man took a sip of his drink and grinned. "It was that one sentence from Roger before his death that sparked this great Age of Piracy!"
"Ohhh! That's so cool!" The girl propped herself up on the table, her cute face flushing with excitement. She eagerly asked the old man, "But, mister, what is One Piece, anyway?"
"Well, that's something you'd have to ask the Pirate King himself. But I think it's probably…"
"Huh? I thought it was…"
The boy glanced up, his expression odd as he watched the old man and the girl engrossed in their heated discussion. He calmly sipped his juice, then let out a small, exasperated sigh. "Two idiots," he muttered under his breath.
As the sun began to set, the two children walked home.
"The Pirate King… he's just so cool!" Lisana, the silver-haired girl, walked ahead, tilting her head back with a look of longing. Behind her, Sherlock kept his nose buried in his book, offering no response.
The two reached Loguetown Square, where the towering execution platform cast a long shadow under the setting sun. Against the reddish sky, it looked solemn and majestic.
"What a pity. I didn't get to witness that great moment," Lisana said regretfully, gazing at the platform in silence. Then her expression shifted, as if she'd made a monumental decision. She turned to her younger brother and asked, "Sherlock, I'm going to become the Pirate King! What do you think of that dream?"
A breeze swept through, lifting Lisana's radiant silver hair.
"Stupid," Sherlock replied without looking up from his book. "You didn't actually let that old man brainwash you, did you? What's so great about the Pirate King? He just ended up getting executed by the Marines."
"Ugh…" Lisana pouted, clearly displeased that her dream had been dismissed so quickly. "But if you don't admire the Pirate King, why do you always tag along when I go listen to the old man's stories?"
Sherlock's hand froze mid-page. Then, with a slight flush, he replied stiffly, "Hmph, I just like the juice at that old man's tavern, that's all."
"Huh?" Lisana put her hands behind her head casually. "And here I thought you just liked following your big sister around…"
Sherlock's fair, delicate face turned faintly red.
"Idiot, don't flatter yourself. Tch, you're only three years older than me."
"Huh? Isn't it four years? I'm ten, and you're six. Oh, wait!" Lisana grinned. "Your birthday's coming up soon, Sherlock! Hehe, what kind of gift do you want your big sister to get you?"
She spun around, waving her small hands at him, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "I know! You're always reading books. If you keep that up, you'll go nearsighted someday. How about I get you a pair of glasses?"
"Do you have to curse your own brother like that?" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "If I keep living, I'll die someday too. Are you going to buy me a coffin next?"
Lisana scratched her head, pondering for a moment before replying earnestly, "Sherlock, I don't think a coffin's necessary. Cremation would be fine, right?"
Smack.
Sherlock snapped his book shut, his face darkening.
"Idiot!" he snapped, done with the conversation. "Hurry up, or Mom's going to get mad if we're late." He quickened his pace, brushing past Lisana and stomping forward as if in a huff.
Watching her brother's retreating figure, Lisana stood still and let out a soft giggle, her face lighting up with an adorably mischievous smile.
"What an unlovable little brother," she said, shaking her head helplessly before hurrying to catch up.
Under the setting sun, the shadows of the siblings stretched long and side by side across the ground.
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