Special Chapter 1 — Mira Kaede: Eyes of the Horizon
From Mira's Perspective
S.C. 1509 — Age 8
Eastern Coast Settlement
I don't remember my father's face clearly.
Only his back.
A broad, tired back that always smelled of salt and sun.
People say he died bravely, standing between our village and a passing pirate crew who thought stealing dried fish was easier than catching their own. I was too young to understand what "bravery" meant back then.
All I understood was hunger.
And silence.
When you lose your last family member at eight, the world goes quiet in a way no sound can reach.
I spent my days at the cliff edge behind the settlement. Birds came there—quick, sharp-eyed seabirds. Most children tried catching them with nets.
I used a slingshot.
Not because I wanted to hunt them.
But because hitting a moving bird meant I was alive enough to aim.
It gave me something to do other than remember.
My first shot hit.
I didn't feel proud.
I felt… nothing.
People started calling me "hawk-eye girl." They said it kindly, like they were impressed.
I didn't want praise.
I wanted direction.
But no one knew how to give it to a child who barely spoke.
---
The Day I Met Him
S.C. 1511 — Age 10
Foosha Village Dock
I had been in Foosha for only two days.
I came because I heard they paid for extra fish. It was a lie, but lies don't hurt as much when you're used to disappointment.
I was perched on a crate near the docks, flipping a pebble between my fingers, when I noticed a boy—small, serious-faced, maybe my age—staring at a crate of tools like it was a complicated math problem.
He wasn't from the village.
He didn't look lost.
He looked… calculating.
He picked up a broken nail, turned it over twice, examining the bend angle, and muttered,
"Forty-seven degrees. Inconsistent with hammer force."
Who talks like that?
I studied him from the corner of my eye, curious despite myself.
He suddenly glanced toward me.
Not turned.
Not looked.
Glanced—like he knew my eyes were on him.
My heart stumbled.
He gave a small nod.
Not an invitation.
Acknowledgement.
As if saying:
"I know you exist."
It was the first time in a long time someone saw me without staring at my slingshot first.
I didn't realize I had moved toward him until he spoke again.
"You're good with your eyes," he said.
My throat tightened. "How do you know?"
He pointed at the pebble still spinning between my fingers.
"You're keeping it level even while thinking about something else."
I jumped slightly.
He wasn't wrong.
He continued, calmly:
"I'm Ren."
"…Mira."
He didn't smile or pity me.
He simply looked at me like I was… useful.
For the first time in my life, someone evaluated me for potential, not charity.
That's the moment I decided to follow him.
---
Being Needed
Ren didn't talk much at first.
But when he did, it was always something precise.
Accurate.
Purposeful.
"Hold this beam steady."
"Measure that line."
"Watch the ridge—tell me if anyone approaches."
He trusted my eyes even before I proved anything.
And that changed me.
Little by little, I found myself caring.
The first time Ren asked me to shoot something, it was a hanging rope 25 meters away.
I aimed.
Exhaled.
Released.
The pebble sliced the rope clean.
Ren nodded once.
That was all.
But that nod felt like warmth in the coldest part of my chest.
From then on, I worked.
Harder than I ever had for food.
Harder than I ever had for myself.
Because Ren didn't save me.
He gave me purpose.
---
Training Under Ren
He trained me silently.
No yelling.
No wasted words.
He taught me to breathe—not like normal breathing—but deep, controlled breaths that sharpened sight and slowed my heartbeat.
He taught me to anchor my feet, align my spine, calculate angles.
He made me stand perfectly still for twenty minutes at a time.
He made me shoot at leaves moving in the wind.
He made me hit targets I couldn't even see.
"Don't look with your eyes," he told me once.
"Look through them."
I didn't fully understand.
But I tried.
Whenever I missed—a rare occurrence—I expected scolding.
Instead, he adjusted my wrist gently.
"No, like this."
Soft voice.
Steady hands.
Not once did he treat me like a burden.
Not once did he tell me to "try harder."
He just believed improvement was natural.
And that made me improve faster than ever.
---
Foosha Village — The First Warm Place
Makino fed me gently, like she could see the hunger that never left my bones.
Kiro treated me like a little sister, poking my forehead when I drifted off.
Kael challenged me to "try winning against me in close combat."
(Joke's on him—I plan to, someday.)
Jin asked me for help with measurements, babbling excitedly until Ren dragged him away before he broke something explosive.
Zemo liked lying on my lap.
And Luffy—oh god.
Luffy was chaos.
He tried grabbing my slingshot.
He tried copying my stance.
One time, he tripped over his own feet and fell into the mud while trying to mimic my precision shot.
I laughed.
I actually laughed out loud.
Makino noticed.
Ren too.
I guess they never saw me smile before.
---
The Day I Swore Loyalty
One evening, as the sun dipped behind the cliffside, Ren handed me a newly polished, compact long-range shooter—custom built from KEA alloy.
"For you," he said simply.
My hands trembled.
"N–No, this is too much. I can't—"
"You can," Ren interrupted.
His voice wasn't loud.
But it was final.
"You see farther than the rest of us. That's why you're here. I need your eyes."
No one had ever said they needed me.
Not once in my entire life.
Something in my chest cracked open.
I didn't speak for a while.
I just held the weapon and stared at him.
He turned away to check a blueprint, but I saw the faintest smile on his lips.
That night, as Foosha's lanterns glowed and the sea whispered quietly, I whispered something to myself.
"Ren… I'll protect everything you build. Everything you care about."
That was my vow.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Quiet.
Sharp.
Lasting.
---
My Dream
Ren once asked us what we dreamed of.
Kael said, "To become strong enough to protect you."
Jin said, "To build all your crazy ideas."
Kiro said, "To sail the world with you leading the path."
But I—
I took a moment.
Then said:
"My dream is to make sure you never have to look over your shoulder."
Ren paused.
He didn't say anything.
But he nodded.
That's all I needed.
---
Who I Am Now
I am Mira Kaede.
Sniper of the Meridian Group.
Watcher of the Hidden Island.
Guardian of Ren's horizon.
The girl who once hunted birds to prove she existed…
Now protects a future worth fighting for.
And this time—
I am not alone.
---
End of Special Chapter 1