The One Piece

In the early morning, dense rays of sunlight pierced through the branches of the trees, but it wasn't the birdsong that woke Peter. Instead, it was a series of curses and profanities coming from inside the dilapidated cabin.

"What the hell is this cursed shack?!"

A drunken man was frantically trying to open the creaky door, stumbling in his steps and cursing the place and his luck that had brought him here. His worn-out coat barely clung to his shoulders, and each time he tried to adjust it, it slipped off, adding to his frustration.

Peter quickly rose from his spot beside the extinguished fire, like a hawk spotting its prey. He wasn't going to let this man leave without getting some answers. He swiftly approached the cabin and opened the door, only to find the man stumbling out, still yelling:

"Who the hell are you?! Are you the one who dragged me here? How dare you do this to me?!"

The man shouted, waving his hands wildly while trying to steady his shaky stance. Peter said nothing, merely staring at him with sharp eyes, attempting to read the man's furious and chaotic features.

The man, oblivious to Peter's silence, continued his verbal assault: "What do you want from me? Is this some kind of kidnapping? I'm telling you, I own nothing but this damned coat! And even that isn't worth stealing!"

Despite the tension of the moment, Peter remained calm. He planned to let the man vent his anger before asking the questions that had been on his mind all night.

Peter sat down near the fire, completely indifferent to the man's continuous shouting and rage. He stared at him for a few seconds and then said calmly: "Are you hungry? Come here."

The man, about to resume his shouting, suddenly paused when his stomach let out a loud growl, stronger than any words he could have spoken.

He seemed embarrassed but had no choice but to drag his feet reluctantly toward the rekindled fire, where Peter sat leaning against a tree trunk.

Near the fire, Peter added some small logs to the dwindling flames, making it blaze again and spreading a comforting warmth in the cold morning air. He pulled out some sausages he had bought from Dressrosa yesterday, skewering them on a wooden stick before placing them over the fire. Soon, the mouth-watering smell of roasting meat filled the air, making the man's mouth water despite himself.

"Take one," Peter offered, handing him one of the grilled sausages. The man looked at him warily at first but eventually gave in to his hunger, grabbing the sausage with trembling hands.

The man devoured the food quickly, as if he hadn't eaten in days. Once he had calmed down a bit, he sat next to Peter, clutching his tattered coat like it was a priceless treasure.

"What's your name?" Peter asked, looking at the man, trying to decipher the enigma that had piqued his curiosity.

The man swallowed another bite, then answered hesitantly: "Jonathan. My friends used to call me Johnny."

The name felt familiar somehow. Peter had a vague feeling he had heard it before, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, he simply nodded and asked directly: "You... said some strange things last night. You talked about not being from here, about not being from this world. What did you mean by that?"

Jonathan froze for a moment, then let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head: "Me? What? I was drunk, man! Sometimes I say crazy things when I'm in that state. Don't take anything I said seriously."

Peter raised an eyebrow, fully aware the man was lying. But he had no solid evidence to force a confession. He chose to remain silent, watching Jonathan, who busied himself with eating as if trying to bury the topic.

Peter sat on the tree stump beside the fire, trying every possible way to coax Jonathan into speaking. "Tell me the truth, Johnny. Why are you holding back? We're in the same boat, aren't we?"

But Jonathan was as stubborn as a rock, shaking his head obstinately and refusing to answer. Every attempt Peter made was met with refusal or silence, until the man muttered a quiet, tense thank you, as if wanting to end the conversation altogether.

Despite this, Peter didn't give up. He moved closer, placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder, and said with a tone filled with determination: "I'm just like you, Johnny. I was thrown into this world suddenly, with no real desire of my own. Don't you want help? We can find a way out of this, but only if you tell me the truth. We can help each other."

Jonathan paused, but he didn't turn toward him. His words pierced through the wall of silence he had built around himself.

"Maybe you have a family, or friends back there... Don't you want to return to them? Don't you want to see your previous life again?"

Those last words struck Jonathan hard. His body froze, then began to tremble. He raised his hand to his face, trying to hide the tears that began to flow like a river, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't hold them back.

He collapsed to the ground, broken, as if bearing the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. His voice was faint but filled with pain,

"Family... friends... Yes, they were there... But now..."

Jonathan started to cry like a small child, unable to stop, while Peter watched him with compassionate eyes. This man, who had seemed so composed moments ago, was now revealing his fragility, like he was pouring out the sorrows of years.

Peter said softly: "I'm here to help you, Johnny. We'll find a way back... together."

Jonathan suddenly stood up, quickly wiping away his tears as if trying to hide his weakness. He looked at Peter with a strange mix of anger, sadness, and bitterness, speaking in a choked voice: "I can't tell you anything! Don't ask me why, just... I can't."

Peter was stunned, taken aback by the sharp reaction. He hadn't expected Jonathan's emotions to flip from deep sorrow to anger so quickly. "What do you mean you can't?" Peter asked, his voice hesitant, trying to understand what was going on in the man's mind.

He approached him cautiously and added: "Johnny, what are you afraid of? I'm only here to help you, and I won't tell anyone about what's happened between us. I swear to you, I'll keep this secret between us."

But Jonathan suddenly turned away, refusing to look him in the eye, shouting: "You can't understand! It's not that simple, Peter. There are things bigger than you and me, things... things you couldn't even begin to imagine."

"Things? What kind of things? Is someone threatening you?"

Jonathan let out a short, desperate laugh and said:

"Threatening me? Peter, my whole life has become a threat. My family, my mother, my father, my wife... even my little daughter, Emily..."

His words suddenly halted, his voice choking as if the name itself was enough to awaken an old wound.

Jonathan sat back on the ground, burying his head in his hands as if trying to contain all the pain within him. He whispered faintly, as if speaking to himself:

"If none of this had happened... If none of this had happened, I would be home with them right now. I would live with them forever, holding little Emily, hearing her laughter, seeing her smile."

He closed his eyes, his voice growing even softer, as if he were speaking to himself in a dream:

"Emily, I would have come home from work and found you running towards me, laughing, asking me to pick you up. I would have seen your little face shining with joy. I would have told you stories about the seas and the stars..."

Jonathan sat there for a moment, staring at the ground with vacant eyes, as if his words came from a distant place within his soul. He murmured in a barely audible voice:

"If none of this had happened... I wouldn't be here now, in this rotten world. I wouldn't be forced to fight for survival. I wouldn't have had to leave everything I loved behind... but it's all over now. I've lost them forever."

He paused for a moment, as if trying to catch his breath amid the weight of his words, then added: "I've come to terms with it long ago, Peter. My mother, my father, my wife, and my little daughter Emily... they've all become just memories. Memories I can never return to, no matter what I do."

He looked at Peter for the first time since they started talking, his eyes burning with an indescribable pain, and said: **"But do you know what's worse? All those memories, all those faces, have become a burden.

A burden that haunts me everywhere I go. I hear their voices in my dreams, I see their faces when I close my eyes. And even if I try to forget... I think of them all the time."**

Jonathan stood up slowly, staring into the distance as if speaking to invisible ghosts: "But they'll never know that their son, or their father, or even their beloved, still thinks of them every moment. And that they will remain in his heart forever."

He closed his eyes for a moment and added bitterly: "Memories are pointless here, as are the tears and the grief. It's all over. This is the only truth I live by now."

Peter, who had been silently observing Jonathan, felt the weight of the words pressing on his own chest. The man's emotions were like a mirror reflecting a fate he himself might one day face.

He approached slowly and said in a soft voice: "Johnny, we may not be able to change the past... but maybe we can do something for this world. Something that makes our lives here worth living."

Jonathan did not reply; he just kept staring into the distance as if Peter's words were hitting an impenetrable barrier.

Peter looked at Jonathan with eyes full of determination. He reached out as if trying to grasp something slipping away from him. "Tell me what happened, Jonathan. No one can carry this burden alone. Let me share this pain with you... maybe I can help, maybe we can find a way out together!"

But Jonathan, despite everything, said nothing. He turned his back, ignoring the words that echoed like a plea in his heart. He began walking away with heavy steps, as if each step took him further from the hope Peter offered.

Peter bursts with determination:

As Jonathan walked far enough, Peter suddenly stood up and shouted with a loud voice, raising his hand to the sky as if challenging fate: "I will stay here, Johnny! I won't leave this place until you come back yourself and tell me everything! I will be here every day, every morning, and every evening! I will not give up on you, no matter what!"

The echo of his words hung in the air, while Jonathan disappeared among the trees without looking back, leaving Peter alone before the fire that was beginning to die down.

---

Peter's Long Wait

Day One:

Peter returned to the city to buy a little food and drink. He found a small stand selling sausages and dried fruits and bought some fresh bread. He carried everything to the worn-out cabin, then returned to the same spot by the fire.

He lit it again, adding some firewood, sitting back on the cold ground as he stared into the distance. He hoped Jonathan would suddenly appear from the trees, but the night passed without a trace of him.

Day Two and Three:

The next day, Peter woke to the sound of birds but didn't leave his place by the fire. He sat there, adding wood from time to time, staring at the shadows moving between the trees. When night fell, he went to the cabin to sleep a little.

His days became a fixed routine: wake up, light the fire, wait, go to the city for more food, then return to wait again.

Days Four to Six:

Peter began to feel the weight of waiting, but his resolve did not break. He spent his time cleaning the area around the cabin, gathering fallen leaves and broken branches, looking for ways to improve the cabin itself. "Maybe Johnny will need a better place to rest when he returns," he told himself.

Days Seven to Nine:

During the wait, Peter began writing on some papers he found in the city. He documented everything he knew about this world and about Jonathan. Every word he wrote gave him a small push to continue.

Days Ten and Eleven:

At night, the loneliness grew. Peter sat by the fire talking to himself out loud. "Will you come back, Jonathan? Will you let me help you?" He repeated these words as if speaking to the trees around him.

Day Twelve:

Peter woke with the first light of dawn, lighting the fire as usual, then sat on the ground to contemplate. But this time, he felt something different. Perhaps it was the hope that began to fade.

Despite his promise to stay, despite all the determined words he had spoken, Peter found himself thinking:

"Twelve days... it's a very long time. Maybe I should have left from the start. I'll wait until evening, and if he doesn't show up, I'll leave."

He said it as if speaking to the flames dancing before him. His eyes were fixed on the flickering fire, but his mind was elsewhere. He didn't know that something in the distance was changing.

Observation Haki warns him:

Wait. A strange feeling swept over him, a strong sensation detected through the advanced Observation Haki he had mastered during his adventures with Roger's crew. It wasn't just an illusion. "Someone's nearby..."

He stood quickly, his heart pounding as he stared toward the rickety wooden cabin. There, in the shadows cast by the sunlight filtering through the trees, a familiar figure appeared.

"Johnny!"

Peter called out in a loud voice, unable to stop himself, but he soon realized Jonathan wasn't alone.