Phantom Blade Zephyr: One Piece

I woke up in the recovery tent after a while.

10-2, huh.

I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Losing was a part of life, a part of growth—I knew that. But why did it still hurt so much?

At least the unconscious bastard on the bed beside me made me feel a little better. Law must've used everything he had to beat me.

That just made me aware of the fact of how much I had improved in the last year. In our first fight, I couldn't land a single hit. Now, I'd pushed him to his limit.

But it still wasn't enough. Not enough to erase the bitter taste of defeat from my mind.

My sword rested beside my bed. I reached for my kit and began cleaning it, the familiar routine calming me. Sword maintenance wasn't just about care—it was a moment of peace, a chance to reflect. As I polished, I replayed the fight in my head, noting my mistakes.

My biggest flaw was adaptability. My swordsmanship, despite all my training, was still too rigid, stuck in fixed patterns. I wasn't fluid enough, not yet able to adapt to unexpected situations. With that in mind, I began mentally outlining a new training regime.

Before I got far, I heard a groan from the other bed. Law was waking up. An evil plan flashed through my mind. I got out of bed and slowly creeped towards his bed. I crept over to his bed, careful to erase my presence. As his eyes fluttered open, I yelled:

"PEEK-A-BO"

Law was so surprised that he almost fell off the bed. I dropped to the floor, laughing uncontrollably. He shot me an annoyed look.

"What are you? Five? Grow up, Z!"

Everyone had started calling me "Z" for a couple of months now. They said that my name was too hard to pronounce. Such uncultured people. Can't even appreciate the beauty of my name. But I didn't mind. Getting a nickname is a sign of trust. I trusted these guys with my life, and they trusted me with theirs. What more could I even ask for?

After messing with Law for a couple of more minutes, I locked eyes with him. The previous playfulness gone.

Law smirked, "I won."

He wasn't mocking me, just stating a fact. A fact I still struggled to accept. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But swimming in denial isn't going to help me. So, I answered, trying to move towards acceptance, "I know."

"We're entering the Grand Line next week," Law continued. "We won't be able to keep up with our duels."

"I know."

"It's unfortunate, really. I enjoyed them. But we can't afford to be out of commission in the Grand Line. One slip-up and we're dead. You get that, right, Z?"

"I know that Law. I'm not a kid, you know?"

"Heh. You haven't even turned 18 yet. So, you are still a kid."

"Whatever you say, dude. But I still want to fight you—no holds barred. Let's make it an annual duel. No interruptions. What do you think?"

Law contemplated for a little bit. "Annual duel, huh? Sounds good."

"Good. Next year won't be the same. I'll win."

"Keep dreaming."

We stared at each other, the fire of rivalry in our eyes.

Rivals. Yeah, I liked the sound of that.

Bepo POV:

Bepo had been standing at the entrance of the tent for a while now. Zephyr once called him something like 'stalker' before. He wasn't, though. He just liked gathering information about people—by following them around for a few days.

Okay, maybe he had some stalker tendencies. Not like he will ever admit that to Zephyr.

Zephyr was a weird guy, to say the least. Bepo had a sixth sense when it came to people, and he could tell that there was more to Zephyr than met the eye. He acted like a carefree teenager, but something was hidden beneath that exterior. There was a sense of another person behind that grin.

But it wasn't an act. Zephyr genuinely loved causing trouble, jumping around like an over-energetic kid. Does that even make sense? Pretending to be himself?

Ah! His head hurt just thinking about it.

He was just weird, okay!

Weird wasn't bad, though. Everyone had their quirks. What mattered to Bepo was loyalty to the crew. And Zephyr had that. He cared deeply about them. Bepo knew it, Law knew it, and so did everyone else. That was good enough for him.

It was totally not because he complemented Bepo and called him cute from time to time. Bepo can't be bought using complements! No way!

Zephyr was also strong... like really fucking strong. Law was a bit stronger, but he had his devil fruit. His swordsmanship really was something else.

Every time they docked at a new island, he would disappear with his notebook, only to return with ideas for new moves. He'd try them out, often injuring himself in the process. But when he succeeded? It was mind-blowing. Bepo still remembered that time Zephyr had used a water-based technique against a Sea King. Zephyr claimed he learned it from a Fish-man, but Bepo didn't buy it. Humans couldn't manipulate water like that.

It didn't matter. Despite his weirdness and his wild antics, Zephyr was part of the crew. And Bepo was glad to have him around. Especially for Law's sake. They've been friends since they were just kids. And Law has never been a cheerful person. Most of the time he rehashes his plans about his revenge, and rest of the time he just trains. Lately, he's been changing. He's still focused on his revenge, but he has stopped letting that desire consume him. He has something new to worry about now. A teenager four years his junior who is dangerously close to catching up to him. Bepo couldn't help but smile as he listened to the conversation inside the tent. Within a short time, Zephyr had become Law's equal in some ways.

Just as he got lost in thought, Zephyr's voice startled him.

"Stalker alert! Stalker alert! Law, your navigator's a pure stalker."

"I'm not a stalker," Bepo protested as he entered the tent.

"As if I'd believe that!"

Unable to think of a comeback, Bepo coughed to change the subject.

"Anyways, I'm here for some different reason."

"Oh? What's that?" Zephyr asked.

With a grin, Bepo pulled out two pieces of paper, revealing them dramatically.

"You two have new bounties! 'Surgeon of Death' Trafalgar Law and 'Phantom Blade' Zephyr."

Bounties were a source of pride for pirates, a mark of recognition. It should be a joyous occasion.

Then why did their captain's face turn deathly pale?