A Little Piece of Kripton (One Piece x Superman)

Time passed quickly. One by one, the members of the Straw Hat Pirates arrived and checked in at the bar.

After Franky, the next to arrive was the long-haired navigator, Nami. The cunning woman tried to trick Royal into giving her free drinks by using her charm, but when her attempts failed, she quickly left to find Shakky or Rayleigh.

The next day, Usopp, the sharpshooter, showed up just as the bar was about to close. He only asked about the whereabouts of his crewmates before disappearing again to search for the others.

Meanwhile, Royal didn't get the chance to meet Chopper as he was busy training with Zoro during the little doctor's arrival.

A few days passed, and then Sanji arrived, making quite a commotion in the bar with his loud voice.

The chef's boisterous entrance caught everyone's attention as he called out, "Where's Nami-swan?!" and "Robin-chwan?!" in his usual exaggerated tone. His enthusiasm didn't go unnoticed, even by Royal, who was cleaning the table.

Royal raised an eyebrow, slightly amused but keeping his usual neutral expression.

"Royal, when Brook holds his concert, we're closing this bar, and you're coming with me to watch it," Shakky said, her invitation sounding more like a command.

As a bartender and employee, Royal had no reason to refuse—especially since it coincided with his first official day off since starting work here. "Of course, Shakky," he replied calmly.

"Uuu!" the woman cheered happily, spinning in a little dance of excitement. "You're truly an exemplary employee!"

"My son, if you're going on a date, at least pick a woman more interesting than this one," Rayleigh teased with a sly grin.

"Ugh! Old man, this isn't a date," Shakky snapped, glaring at him. "I just want to use your son as a bodyguard so I can secure a spot at the exclusive front section. He'll clear the way for me."

Turning her sharp gaze to Royal, she asked with emphasis, "Isn't that right?"

"Of course, Shakky," Royal replied in his usual calm manner.

"Now, get back to work. Don't forget tonight," Shakky instructed Royal before turning to address the rest of the bar.

"Boys and girls, tonight this bar will be closing early, so enjoy yourselves to the fullest before I kick you all out!" she announced with a mischievous smile, her voice carrying through the lively crowd.

"So, you're Uncle Rayleigh's son? I've never heard about you before. There's not even a hint of information about you," Sanji said as he approached Royal, a curious glint in his eye.

"Well, I've been busy these past few years, and who would be interested in just a regular bartender?" Royal replied casually.

Sanji lit his cigarette, exhaling smoke as he observed Royal closely. "Nothing about you seems regular. Even your aura screams someone important."

"Really?" Royal challenged with a smirk. He then took off his glasses and slid them back on in a completely different style. He adjusted his posture from tall and confident to slightly hunched and awkward. His hair, previously styled casually, was slicked back like a stereotypical 90s bookworm. Even his gaze shifted, dull and unimposing.

Sanji was stunned by the transformation, his mouth hanging open slightly. It was as if he were looking at an entirely different person.

"What?!" Sanji exclaimed, visibly shocked.

"I do this all the time when I'm around the Marines," Royal explained nonchalantly. "No one ever recognizes me, and I just blend in as a boring local."

Sanji took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he examined Royal again. "You're telling me you've been fooling the Marines with that act? That's insane."

Royal shrugged, his expression unbothered. "It's not that hard. Most people only see what they want to see. Give them an ordinary face, and they'll never think twice about it."

Sanji let out a low whistle, impressed despite himself. "You've got some skills, I'll give you that. But don't think this disguise will work on me again. I've got a sharp eye, you know."

"You might have sharp eyes, but perhaps not as sharp as mine," Royal said with a faint smirk.

Sanji raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but Royal didn't elaborate. He simply stood there in silence, his expression unreadable.

"Fine then," Sanji finally said, breaking the awkward pause. "Maybe it's time I look for the rest of my crew." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray Royal handed him.

As Sanji turned to leave, he cast a disdainful glance over his shoulder, his brows furrowed. Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly, cursing Royal internally for having the privilege of what appeared to be a "date" with Shakky.

Night had fallen, and Royal stood in front of the small mirror in his room, adjusting the dark blue shirt that fit snugly over his broad shoulders. He paired it with black jeans and navy blue shoes, opting for a simple yet effortlessly polished look.

The soft glow of the room's light highlighted his sharp features, and despite his modest attire, his charisma seemed to amplify. His neatly styled black hair and piercing blue eyes made him look as though he'd stepped out of a fashion catalog.

He glanced at his reflection, sighing. "Shakky better not make this too complicated," he muttered under his breath before heading out to meet her. Tonight wasn't just a concert—it was an opportunity to let his guard down, albeit briefly.

"Royal! Are you ready?" Shakky's voice rang out from downstairs, loud enough to reach Royal's room.

He quickly straightened his shirt and made his way to meet her, deliberately walking instead of using his super speed.

When Shakky saw him, she let out a playful whistle. "Oh, look at you. That face of yours is truly out of this world," she said, smirking. "Although, still completely lacking in style," she added with a teasing edge.

Royal's lips curved into a faint smile. "You look elegant yourself, Shakky."

The compliment wasn't overly flowery—it was just polite, a simple gesture of respect toward a lady. Both of them knew that. And for that, Shakky couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright, Mister Polite, let's get going before we miss the show. I've got the best seats in the house reserved for us," she said, her excitement barely contained.

As they arrived at the concert venue, the scene was pure chaos. The line stretched endlessly, with people pushing and shoving to get into the stadium.

"Well, space boy, this is where your job begins," Shakky said with a sly grin. "You're going to make sure I get to my seat without a single scratch."

Royal sighed lightly but extended his hand toward her. "Shall we?" he said calmly.

Shakky beamed, slipping her hand into his without hesitation. "Now, this is what I call a gentleman," she teased, clearly enjoying the attention.

With a firm but gentle grip, Royal began leading her through the crowd. The jostling and noise didn't seem to faze him as he carved a path effortlessly, his presence enough to make people unconsciously step aside. Shakky followed with ease, her smile widening as she basked in the envious glances shot their way.

After completing the registration, Royal glanced at the overwhelming crowd still pushing and shoving to get inside. With a subtle nod toward Shakky, he decided to make use of his abilities.

"Hold on," he said simply.

Before Shakky could respond, Royal lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in his arms. In a blink, the scenery around them blurred as he moved at super speed. The cacophony of the crowd was left behind in an instant, and they arrived at their designated seats as if the chaos outside had never existed.

"Wow, that was… exhilarating," Shakky said, catching her breath but clearly amused. "You should do this more often."

Royal gently set her down, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans. "Only for you, Shakky," he said with a smirk.

Shakky laughed, taking her seat. "With this kind of service, you're going to spoil me, space boy."

Brook's music was nothing short of extraordinary. The notes from his violin carried an ethereal quality, weaving a melody that seemed to speak directly to the soul. As the sound echoed through the stadium, it felt as if time had slowed, and every person present was caught in the magic of his performance.

Even Royal, who often remained composed and indifferent, found himself leaning slightly forward, captivated by the haunting beauty of the music. His enhanced senses allowed him to catch every nuance, every subtle shift in tone, and for once, he didn't feel overwhelmed—only deeply moved.

The audience, typically rowdy and exuberant, fell silent. There were no cheers, no shouts, no whispers. Just the pure resonance of Brook's violin filling the air.

Shakky glanced at Royal out of the corner of her eye and smiled. "Even the space boy has a heart, huh?" she teased softly, though her voice was equally hushed, as if afraid to break the spell.

Royal didn't respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on the stage. "It's... beautiful," he finally murmured, almost as if speaking to himself.

For this time Royal wasn't thinking about his past or the weight of his abilities. He wasn't thinking about trust, walls, or the burden of being different. In that moment, he was simply present, letting the music guide him.

What he felt right now was almost identical to the calm he had experienced the first time he ventured into outer space.

Back then, drifting among the stars, Royal had been enveloped by a profound stillness—a silence so complete it felt like the universe itself was holding its breath. It was a moment of solitude and clarity, where everything unnecessary fell away, leaving only an unshakable sense of peace.

Now, listening to Brook's violin, that same tranquility washed over him. It was as though the music had stripped away the noise of the world—the chaos, the responsibilities, the questions of identity—and left him floating once more in a vast, quiet expanse.

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing as the melody reached its crescendo. So this is what they mean by music transcending boundaries, he thought, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

For someone who had always struggled with connection, this was a rare and precious moment—one where he felt truly grounded, yet free.

Of course, the comfort was only temporary. Royal's enhanced hearing picked up the synchronized footsteps of Marines long before anyone else in the crowd or even the concert organizers noticed. The sound was faint at first, like a distant rumble, but it quickly grew louder, more organized, and more threatening.

Royal's eyes scanned the stadium discreetly, his senses heightened. The Marines were precise, surrounding the venue in a calculated maneuver. Their numbers were significant—too many to dismiss as a routine patrol.

He leaned slightly toward Shakky, who was still immersed in Brook's performance, her eyes shining with admiration for the skeletal musician. "Shakky," Royal whispered, his tone calm but urgent, "we have a problem. The Marines are here."

Shakky didn't react immediately, her expression unchanging. Only after a few seconds did she tilt her head slightly, her sharp eyes glinting. "How many?"

"Enough to make things messy if we don't move soon," Royal replied, his voice steady despite the growing tension.

Shakky sighed, glancing at the stage where Brook continued to play as if oblivious to the brewing chaos. "Well, this is inconvenient. Do you think they're here for the concert, or something—or someone—more specific?"

"Hard to say, but it seem Brook is their main target." Royal admitted, his mind already racing through possible escape routes. "We need to leave. Now."

Shakky smiled faintly, rising from her seat with an air of nonchalance that belied the situation. "Lead the way, then, space boy. Let's see if your little shortcuts can get us out of this mess before things get noisy."

Royal didn't hesitate. He offered his hand to Shakky once again, his gaze darting toward the exits.

Royal left the venue with Shakky, his face impassive but his heart heavy. As they moved through the bustling crowd, he consciously dulled his sensory abilities, blocking out the overwhelming flood of sounds, scents, and emotions.

Even so, a knot formed in his chest. He knew the Marines sometimes weren't there for any noble cause. Their presence would bring chaos, and the fate of the concertgoers—innocent people simply enjoying music—was uncertain.

As they slipped past the outer edge of the stadium, Shakky's sharp gaze flicked toward him. "You're awfully quiet, Royal. Something bothering you?"

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "I don't like leaving them behind. The Marines won't hold back if they think there's a bounty worth capturing."

Shakky hummed thoughtfully, lighting a cigarette as they walked. "That's just how the world works, isn't it? The strong act, the weak suffer. It's nothing new."

Her words stung, but Royal didn't respond immediately. Instead, he clenched his fists, his mind racing with possibilities. Should he intervene?

"Keep walking," Shakky said, her tone softer this time, as if sensing his inner turmoil. "You can't save everyone, Royal."

The weight of her words settled on him, and he hated how right she was.

Time passed, and Royal no longer thought about the concert from the night before. He sat in a quiet place, beginning his meditation.

"Hey, you didn't come back to your room last night," Rayleigh said, walking toward his son. "I was looking for you to chat and some drink together."

"I wanted to be alone, Dad," Royal replied quietly, not opening his eyes.

Rayleigh raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So, where did you go?"

Royal pointed upward, toward the sky, his finger tracing the vast expanse above them.

Rayleigh paused for a moment, then nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see. You were up there, weren't you? Flying above the Earth."

Royal didn't respond, but his father's recognition of his unspoken gesture was enough.

"Must have been beautiful up there," Rayleigh mused, his voice soft with admiration. "Maybe one day, you'll take me with you."

Royal remained silent, but a small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. The thought of sharing that experience with his father seemed distant, but not impossible. For now, it was enough to simply be understood.

"Do you know, Dad, that stars are just like the sun in shape?" Royal asked, his voice carrying a hint of thoughtfulness as he looked up at the sky.

Rayleigh chuckled, shaking his head. "Heh, so my guess that stars have four sharp sides was wrong, huh?"

Royal smiled softly, the memory of his father's words from when he was just four years old on the roof of their house coming to mind. That was a simpler time, a time when everything felt like it had endless possibilities. His father's playful theories about stars, about the world, and about life itself, had always sparked his curiosity.

"You always said there was magic in everything, even in the stars," Royal thought, his smile growing. "Maybe you were right, after all."

"What kind of magic is in the stars?" Rayleigh asked, intrigued by his son's words.

"The kind that makes me want to go home," Royal answered, his gaze drifting toward the sky.

Rayleigh raised an eyebrow. "So you were being honest back then?"

Royal laughed freely, something he hadn't done since his return. "Yeah, although it wasn't the main reason for me, you know."

Rayleigh smiled, his tone growing nostalgic. "Ah, I once asked Roger for a break to go back to my hometown too. Even though it's filled with rotten people... Sometimes, we just need to look back, to remind ourselves of the dreams we're fighting for."

Royal nodded quietly, understanding the weight of his father's words. He had never known the struggles of Rayleigh's past, but he could feel the truth in them now. Sometimes, in the midst of all the chaos, looking back gave you the strength to move forward.

"Have you ever thought that some of the things that happened were my fault?" Royal asked hesitantly.

Rayleigh's sharp gaze locked onto his son, his expression hard to read. Under that intense scrutiny, Royal instinctively tried to backtrack. "W-what I mean is, if I had arrived earlier and saved your captain… Or if you could have stayed in one place instead of constantly moving around because of me showing my powers."

Rayleigh's voice turned firm, commanding an answer. "Where are all these questions coming from, Silvers Royal?"

Royal hesitated, his mind raced trying to find the right words, but guilt tugged at him. He had always admired his father's strength and resolve, yet a part of him wondered if his existence had burdened him in ways he couldn't fully comprehend.

"Just a passing thought," Royal replied casually, though the answer clearly didn't satisfy Rayleigh.

If anything, his father's expression grew darker, his jaw tightening as frustration simmered beneath the surface.

"Does this have something to do with your uncle?" Rayleigh asked, his tone sharp and accusing. Though phrased as a question, the certainty in his voice made it clear he already suspected the truth.

Royal flinched slightly at the mention of him. He didn't reply immediately, but his silence spoke volumes, confirming Rayleigh's suspicions.

"You've been holding onto his words, haven't you?" Rayleigh pressed, leaning forward. "Let me tell you something, boy—your past, your powers, even your bloodline… None of that gives him or anyone else the right to define who you are."

"I know that, but he—he's like me, and Zod is part of the family," Royal muttered, his voice laced with conflicted emotions.

Rayleigh let out a long, heavy sigh, leaning back slightly as if the weight of the conversation was physically pressing on him. "Letting you leave at 15 to explore on your own... Maybe that was a mistake," he admitted, his usually confident demeanor replaced with a hint of regret.

He studied his son carefully, noticing the tension in Royal's shoulders, the way his fists clenched at his sides as if grappling with an invisible burden. "I wanted you to find your own path, Royal. To learn the world for yourself without my shadow hanging over you." His voice softened. "But I see now that maybe I should've been there more, especially when it came to him."

Royal turned away slightly, staring at the horizon. "It's not just about him, Dad. It's about everything—about who I'm supposed to be."

"You're supposed to be you, Royal. No one else. Not me, not Zod, not anyone else who thinks they can tell you how to live your life." Rayleigh leaned forward, his voice firm. "Perhaps Kryptonian blood runs through your vein, but you've got your own story to write."

"I just don't want to be alone, Dad," Royal murmured, his voice barely audible, weighed down by the thought of what defying Zod might entail. Bloodshed was inevitable, and the idea of becoming the last Kryptonian in the universe was a burden too heavy to bear.

Rayleigh's expression softened, a rare tenderness in his usually sharp gaze. He placed a firm hand on Royal's shoulder, grounding him. "That's exactly why you need to reach out, my son. There are so many people out there who'd stand by you—if only you'd let them in."

Royal turned his head slightly, uncertainty flickering in his blue eyes. "But what if they see me as something else? As a monster, or a tool to be used? Like Zod does."

Rayleigh's grip tightened just slightly, enough to convey his conviction. "If you let the right people in, they won't see you as a monster. They'll see you for who you are—a good man, with a good heart, carrying the weight of an entire world on his shoulders. And they'll want to help you carry it."

Royal's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze dropping to the ground. "It's not that easy."

"No," Rayleigh admitted with a small smile. "But nothing worth doing ever is."