A/N: Spoilers for manga Dressrosa and beyond

Dear new readers: welcome! Thanks for clicking on my fic. Please continue reading without any regard to that paragraph below.

Dear old readers: Remember that cute little drabble AU fic that I never got around to finishing? Well, since it got jossed, I decided to wait until Dressrosa was finished for more insight on the characters and how the arc was going to tie off, and that was a good idea, because I had to redo a giant chunk of the plot. In the middle of that, though, I was adding way too much detail so I decided just to make it a giant AU fic. Ha. Sorry.

Please note that updates on this may be inconsistent and sporadic, but I will get around to finishing it. Maybe.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.

Kuina was not, by nature, a clumsy person.

So in retrospect, tripping and dropping an oil lamp in the middle of a wooden shed was not the most coordinated thing she had ever done. Maybe it was because she had been mulling over the fight that had happened only the night before. Wado Ichimonji had dulled in the fight - her inexperience in using a real blade had resulted in it, no doubt. Kuina had gone to the shed where the sharpening block was kept, her sword in one hand and an oil lamp in the other. She had propped up Wado by the entrance. The lamp had slipped from her fingers and fell, setting the entire shed on fire. Kuina had enough time to berate herself for her stupidity before she passed out from smoke inhalation.

Now, she was aboard a strange ship, covered up in bandages and hooked up to an IV, with possibly the strangest-looking man(?) ever standing in front of her. His head was as big as his body, covered in a blue-purple afro, and his face, though masculine, was smothered with piles and piles of makeup. The man's lashes were competing in size with her forearms, and he wore a black cloak with the hood up, not that it did anything to make him less conspicuous.

Kuina blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "What the hell?" Her voice was scratchy and hoarse, a clear reminder of how much smoke had gone through her lungs before she had lost consciousness. Now that she was aware of her injuries, she felt the itchiness and pain around her body. To her terror, though, her upper right thigh, which she now noticed had been elevated, was completely numb.

The afro man did an almost exaggerated comical take. "Such coldness!" he wailed, doubling over and clutching at his chest. He began wobbling, breathing shortly. "Guh, my anemia... I'm... I'm..."

Kuina blinked, feeling a little guilty. Was the man anemic? She opened her mouth, intending to apologise.

"I'm PERFECTLY FINE! HEE-HAW!" The man threw his hands up in the air, grinning from ear-to-ear. Kuina jerked, startled.

"Don't screw with me like that!" Kuina snapped, though the force behind her voice was diminished by the crack near the end and the hoarse tone. She lowered her voice, mindful of how much she could push her vocal chords. "Where am I? What happened to me? Where are we?"

The man grew serious. "You are on a ship bound for the Grand Line, sword girl, but for now it's still moored to your island. I believe there vas an incident where you lost consciousness in a burning shed, vhere our leader promptly rescued you. But vith the burns that you sustained, you vould've died after several long, antagonising hours."

Kuina froze, her face paling. She was so close to death right after making a promise to Zoro, to become the world's greatest swordsman? Was she stupid? She had promised herself that she wouldn't lose to Zoro, but to die before that even happened would be like running away, against her will or not.

"How... how am I still alive then?" she said slowly.

His response was blunt. "I shaved off a few years of your lifespan to increase your chances of surviving. Your vill to live powered through the rest. Once you vere stabilised, ve treated your second-degree burns - your leg was the most badly burnt, and required a skin graft. You vill not be able to be on your feet or do any physical exercise for a month at the least. You've been unconscious for a veek, and ve haven't set sail yet because you vere under our care. Your village is far too primitive in medicine to even dream of healing you completely. Even in the one in a million chance that you survive through your burns, you vould never be able to valk again."

She tried to process all this information at once. To be honest, she wasn't concerned about the length of her lifespan, that just meant needed to become the world's greatest even faster then. But she had been unconscious for a week and the strange man had probably avoided contact with her village, which meant that Zoro thought she had burned to death and had been thinking that for seven whole days. The news about her leg was alarming as well. Would she still be able to practice swordsmanship with her leg? If she stayed put for a month like the man had told her, maybe she would do a full recovery, especially about the man's seemingly-miraculous abilities.

"...why?" she asked, after a period of silence. "Why would you go through all this and even delay your trip to the Grand Line for a strange girl that you've never met before? Who is your leader? Are you guys a kind of organization?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential, sword-girl, for your own safety. We are on the wrong side of the law, you see."

The wrong side of the law? Panic flared up in her chest. Were they terrorists? Pirates? Maybe they only healed her to gain her trust and take her hostage? She tensed her sore and burned muscles, ready to rip out that IV needle and run for it. The boat was definitely docked, but how did she know she wasn't on a completely different island than before?

"Calm down, sword-girl," the man cut in, crossing his arms and looking put-out by seeing her panicked expression. "You vould have no value as a hostage; you aren't royalty, and you're from a small village in rural East Blue. There have already been a million chances to kill you or let you die, if ve hadn't saved you, you vould already be six feet under."

Kuina uncurled her fists from under the sheet, her expression shifting to a reluctant one. She supposed he had a point.

"I can answer one of those questions, though. It appears that our leader is a bit homesick and cannot tear himself avay from promising children on the brink of death."

Children?

"Why are you guys doing the saving, though?" Kuina felt confusion welling up inside her. "Doesn't the World Government protect us? Don't the Marines protect us? They can save the injured children fine, why do you need to do it? I bet they're technologically advanced, too, it's the World Government after all."

The man doubled over again, and for a moment Kuina thought that they were going to have an "anemic" moment again, before she realized that the strange noise coming from him was laughter.

"Mmmmfufufu! The World Government does not value every single child under their rule! They don't care about anything except for power, wealth, and influence! They will watch countries rot and stand there, and once it has decayed completely they will paint a pretty picture and replace it with that! You are too naive, sword-girl, and unfamiliar with how this world works. Have the millions of enslaved men, vomen, and children been saved from burns and vhips? Have countries swathed in poverty been brought back to vealth? Of course not! They never will be!"

"You're wrong," Kuina was beginning to feel numb again, but a different kind. It was building up in her stomach, a cold pit of fear and denial. "You're wrong, aren't you?!"

The man affixed her with a cold, hard stare, and Kuina began doubting everything she had ever been told about the world. About how the Marines were good and pirates and criminals were bad; and here was a self-proclaimed criminal who had saved her life and had patched her up far more than anyone else had. A cold shiver ran down her back.

"Why are you heading to the Grand Line?" she asked. "Is there going to be a war?"

"Go to sleep, ve don't vant you overexerting yourself and undoing all my hard vork," the man answered, standing up.

"I'm not a child, and I'm not sleepy," Kuina said by way of protest, even though her eyelids were drooping already.

Before the dark blanket of sleep enveloped her, she could hear a quiet sentence uttered by the man.

"There has alvays been a var."

When Kuina woke up again, she was hungry, her head was pounding, and her right leg was no longer elevated. The IV was still stuck in her arm. This time, she was a bit more alert, and scanned her surroundings. She was in what appeared to be an infirmary, with white curtains isolating her from the rest of the patients. The bed was up against a wooden wall, with a stool beside the bed that the doctor would sit on, and what the man with the large face had probably sat on. The only people there, she supposed, was herself, and another person. She could hear their breaths through the curtains, wheezing almost.

Her upper body was bare save for a swath of bandages wrapped around her torso and arms. Her legs were bound up, too, but she was wearing an old, baggy pair of shorts that didn't belong to her. It appeared that someone had been dressing her burns everyday - the painful blistering that she could feel was subsiding, except for her leg, which felt dry and itchy. Warily, she shifted to sit up.

"Skin grafts do not contain sweat or oil glands, and must be lubricated daily to prevent drying and cracking. We don't have any mineral, or bland oil at the moment, and we would need to set sail to another island to obtain it. I believe you would be adverse to leaving your home village, though, so we have refrained from causing panic."

Kuina made a surprised noise (which had been incredibly high-pitched, and if anyone asked her, she would've denied it) and jumped, or as much as she could covered in bandages and healing burns. Her eyes flew to the cloaked figure standing in front of the curtains. She was sure that he hadn't been here before.

The first thing she noticed about him were the strange, almost tribal-looking red tattoos on the left side of his face. His hair was wild and spiky, but slicked back, with hints of stubble lining his jaw. His entire body was covered by a black cloak that went down to his feet.

"You... where's that weird Hee-Haw guy from earlier? Are you the leader guy he mentioned?" She was still rasping, not as bad as before, but enough to be clear. "How long have I slept for?"

"Ivankov is busy dealing with... other people with worse injuries than you. You've slept for two and a half days; your condition has improved considerably." The man's voice was a deep baritone, and he had not a trace of the goofiness the earlier guy had. What had this man called him? Ivankov?

Two and a half more days of Zoro and her father thinking she was dead, huh? Well, just icing on the cake of being unconscious for a week.

"Are you the leader guy he mentioned? What kind of illegal organization is this?" Kuina pressed, her brow furrowing. Her eyes locked with his, and she felt chilled, as if this guy was reading all her secrets like an open book.

"I am Dragon, the leader of the Revolutionary Army." the man said. "And my aim is to oppose the World Government and what it stands for. and overthrow the corrupted system that they have fallen into."

Kuina's eyes widened and her jaw fell open, but she didn't have the time to think of a response as the tattooed man continued.

"I recognized you as a promising girl. Rarely have I ever seen someone like you with as much talent as you have had, as well as the effort you have put in to maintaining your skill. It would be a waste for someone like you to die on this island in the East Blue, so I retrieved you from that burning shed. You have two choices: you can either return to your hometown, tell them that you have somehow survived, and continue living your life there. We will wipe your memory in exchange. Or you can come with us to the Grand Line, and join the Revolutionary Army. You will face the big namers of this era, fight in wars in which will decide the outcome of this world. And face an unprecedented amount of danger that you have never faced before. I am extending my hand to you now.

"If you do happen to join us, I will warn you that you will have to cut your ties off with everyone you hold dear, as the World Government may target them. You will undoubtedly become a wanted man, and you will be hunted down by the world. This is not a life of romanticism, and this is not a path to be taken without regard. I suggest you think hard about the choice that I'm giving you. I will wait three more days for your answer."

Kuina blinked, and he was gone.

Once her initial shock had wore off and she had gotten to think about it, the more she dreaded the three days that Dragon had given her. The Grand Line was a brutal place, a place where the dreams of many sailors were crushed, and only the strongest prevailed. And would Zoro ever forgive her for cutting off all ties with him and setting off to start a revolution? To fight the world's war by herself?

She couldn't deny the excitement that came with the fear, though. Her fighting ability could soar to places she had never dreamed of. She could track down the world's strongest swordsman and beat him.

But what was the point of claiming the crown if the world around her was falling apart?

She ran her fingers through her short hair in frustration, squeezing her eyes shut. Kuina didn't know what the hell to do, what the hell to say.

What would Zoro do if he was in my position?

That idiot would probably charge in without prior thought. As long as the thorny path led to the one where he would be the strongest, he would take it without fail. From what she could see, they weren't bad people. They had saved her, a complete stranger, because of her fighting potential. And they had even given her the choice to join them or return to her previous life. She had grown up sheltered on a small island in East Blue. She was a small fish in a small pond, wanting to reach the torrential ocean.

And here they were. The revolution was extending a hand and inviting her.

Kuina closed her eyes and slumped, pressing her back against the pillow, letting out a long sigh. She thought back again to the strange, makeup-covered man, Ivankov.

"Have the millions of enslaved men, vomen, and children been saved from burns and vhips? Of course not!"

Slaves.

Kuina suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Ivankov had mentioned slaves. Her father had told her about them, once, when she was little and had heard the word slip from the mouth of a traveller in the local tavern. "Slaves are people who have no longer been rendered people, Kuina," he had said. "They are now the property of other people. They have no free will and can be treated however their owner deems fit." It was only after she had burst into tears of anger and vowed to beat up the "owners" of slaves that he had assured her that slavery had died out long ago. She had forgotten about it after a week, throwing herself back into her swordsmanship.

And Ivankov had said that there were millions of them. And that the World Government had approved of it.

Kuina's sweaty palms curled into fists on her lap, squeezing the white cotton of her blanket. Gritting her teeth.

Can I trust these people?

She took a deep breath, and, conscious of her throat, said as loudly as possible, "Excuse me!" After a few more moments of silence, where no one heard her, she tried again. "Excuse me!"

A few more moments of silence, before she heard footsteps on the wood of the ship. They were heavy, presumably of a man's, before the door opened. She watched as a man wearing a light top hat and a pair of goggles stuck his head in, his eyes falling on her.

"Were you calling?" he said tentatively, as if speaking to a startled doe. Kuina suppressed the flash of irritation. "Is there a problem?"

Kuina looked into his eyes. "Can you tell me," she said, "about slaves?"

Kuina was no longer as exhausted as before, the strain on her body lessening, and she was generally conscious the entire day. There was a doctor that came and dressed her burns, sometimes many times a day, but he looked hassled. He spent more time on the other person, who seemed to have stayed unconscious for her entire duration here. During those times when he was checking on her, he injected a needle into Kuina, informing her that the bleariness and numbness was only temporary and wouldn't knock her out. Kuina, disoriented, managed to witness the healing of her burns. The majority of her body was blistered and red, swelling, and her skin was peeling off in little bits. The doctor had covered those in a white cream, which had felt cool even against her numbed skin. But her leg, was another story. It had, according to the doctor, been charred to the point of being white and leathery, and they had to do a full-thickness graft onto it from a donor. Now, there was a giant patch of discoloured and uneven skin, but her leg was intact, something she was grateful for.

The doctor had put some weird dressing on it, and had massaged some oil onto her leg (Dragon had sent a few men to buy some mineral oil from a neighbouring island). By the time the anaesthesia had worn off, he was long gone.

Kuina was now forcing food down her throat, albeit only soups or mashed up items. She wasn't the only one being conscious of the smoke that she had sucked in. Several people had visited her while delivering her food, all part of the Revolutionary Army. Kuina was by no means a sociable person, and she wasn't blind to the fact that many boys at her dojo disliked her for her arrogance (in spite of the fact that she was overwhelmingly better and knew it). Despite that, she had tried to strike up a conversation with them about their reasons for joining. All their stories had left Kuina in varying states of shock. Some of them were hunted down for seeing something they shouldn't have. Some of the told her stories about the corruption in their home countries. Some of them told her about being enslaved. Some of them had even eaten Devil Fruits, to her surprise and amazement. She had only ever heard of legends of Devil Fruits and their users before, and it had painfully accented on the fact that she had never even been outside her village.

There was nothing to do while she recovered, as the doctor had cautioned against getting on her feet and exerting herself, and Kuina had already come close to losing her leg once and wasn't keen on trying it again, so for three days, between her meals and the doctor's visits, she thought about her answer to Dragon, she thought about the world that had been shielded from her view, she thought about her father and Zoro back at the dojo and she thought about her dream.

And on the night of the third day, while Kuina was watching a spider weave a web a corner (yes, she was that bored), she heard the door open. This time, Dragon hadn't bothered to mask his presence, because Kuina could hear his footsteps as he walked down the hallway. The same intimidating and tattooed man stepped in, the leader of all these people.

"You've become quite popular with the revolutionaries during these three days," he said, by way of greeting. "You are often the subject during meals. Many of them are adamant about you joining. That, however, is your own choice."

Kuina hesitated for a moment, closing her eyes. She recalled the familiar grip of Wado Ichimonji, how the grooves in its hilt had fit perfectly into her fingers, as if it had been made for her despite only having used it once. She recalled her flare of competitiveness at the appearance of an obstinate green-haired boy and his drive to surpass her. She recalled the defeat she had felt as he caught up to her, and the determination as his words spurred her on.

And she said aloud, "Sorry."

Dragon kept his face neutral, waiting for her to continue.

"Sorry," Kuina repeated. "Would you allow this small and inexperienced fish to join your army, Dragon-san?"

The man grinned, something that Kuina hadn't expected. She must've looked quite taken aback, because he burst into laughter.

Kuina stared at him for a moment, looking dumbfounded, before Dragon caught his breath and replied.

"Fufu... you sure are an interesting one. What of your family and friends at home, then? Most likely, they believe you're dead and that you've been so for awhile now."

Kuina looked the other way. "About that... I want to leave them a message. Just a subtle one, one that'll tell them that I'm alive. Do you have any paper and something I could write with?"

Somehow, the man managed to produce a smooth sheet of paper, small enough to fit in Kuina's palm, as well as a strange writing utensil made of what appeared to be plastic. With a click of a button the tip popped out, no need for messy ink or brushes.

Kuina's hands were still bandaged, and she was no artist, but they were steady enough for her to scrawl the image of a bird with clipped wings. She assessed it for a moment, before adding a sword in the corner, one with a white hilt like her Wado, and handing it to Dragon, who scanned it with a critical gaze.

"Girl, what's your name?" he said.

"Hey, Kuina, didn't your dad name you after a flightless bird?" Zoro fixed his gaze on her between trying to fix the angle that she had bent his nose at with her shinai. As always, their spar had ended in her win. "Why would he do that? I heard that the world's greatest swordsman is called "Hawk-Eyes" - a bird that can't fly can't possibly catch up to a hawk."

Kuina scowled at him. "Say that after you beat me, you useless moss-brain."

"Kuina," she said. "My name is Kuina."

Dragon looked down again at the paper. "I see." Was that a lilt of amusement in his voice? "One of my comrades has eaten the Paw-Paw fruit, it allows him to "push" objects at varying speeds. As light as this paper is, he could make it appear as if it had teleported without exerting much effort."

Kuina had blanched at his explanation of the Devil Fruit's ability. The Grand Line was filled with dangerous fruit users, and she had to be stronger than them all. The flightless bird would definitely soar higher than the hawk, somehow, someday. "...Understood."

The man smiled again, a confident grin that was infectious. He held out his hand for her to shake. "Welcome to the Revolutionary Army, Kuina."

"Please take care of me, Dragon-san." Kuina grasped it, his hand almost dwarfing hers, and shook.

It had been well over a week since the old shed burned to the ground. He had seen nothing but ashes and Kuina's sword lying among them near the edges. over a week since he had heard that Kuina had been inside and didn't manage to get out in time.

Then had came the rage, the denial, the fury of Kuina running away, albeit unintentionally, from the promise that they had made just the night before. He had shrieked to the tops of his lungs at a pile of ashes, sobbing and snot dripping from his nose (though he would deny it if anyone ever mentioned it). He had hated Kuina. He had hated the fact that she had been stolen away by a stupid accident like that. And he hated that he couldn't do anything to change that.

Zoro had asked Kuina's father, who was going through a sort of serene kind of grief, for her sword, Wado, the only thing of Kuina that he had left. The pure white sword, stained by the soot, was given to his clammy hands. And then he had thrown himself into a flurry of sword drills, exercise, and sparring matches. With Kuina gone, he had wiped the floor with anyone that dared challenge him, regardless of age or experience. Kuina was gone now so it was up to him to become the best. He would climb the ladder, his name would be infamous around the world, and he would fulfill his promise. Definitely.

He had been training and fetching water at the same time - the well in their village had broken, so they were short on water. He was carrying two ceramic pots almost as big as he was on each arm; both of them were to the brim with water from the river. His muscles had ached and complained about it, but he had ignored it and pushed on.

Now if he hadn't gotten lost (not that he would ever admit it to anyone), that would've been great.

Zoro pushed through a pack of bushes, brambles scraping at his cheeks, looking around. He had been following his gut instincts this entire time, and hey, doesn't that tree look familiar -

Zoro ran forward, excited, before the sound of rushing water filled his ears and he realized that he was somehow back at the river again.

What the hell? Was this forest a maze or something?

Another noise, sharper, startled him. He looked around frantically, only to see a piece of paper fluttering above his head, slowly losing the fight to gravity. It was a small, squared piece of paper, and Zoro set the pots on his arms down to snatch it out of the air. There was a crude drawing on it. Unlike the smooth strokes from brushes that Zoro was familiar with, it was sharper, looked less likely to bleed if it was wet, and a lot bumpier too. It looked an awful lot like something he would draw. ...Was that a bird? The wings were all weird though, some of the feathers stretched out but some of them were cut short in an almost straight-edged, boxy way. In the corner was a sword, a white one, that resembled Wado a bit.

He tilted his head, unsure of how this paper got here or what it was trying to say. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, and he stared at it for a moment before the wind picked up and pulled it out of his fingers. The paper fell to a stop in the smooth river, the water destroyed the fragile white in an instant, and swept it away.

They had left Kuina's home island the morning after she had agreed to join them. A week later, they had docked on a nearby island that was barren and isolated. the doctor had deemed that the majority of her burns had healed enough to remove the bandages. The angry red blisters and swelling had gone down to pinkish and bumpy scars, but her leg was still wrapped up. She was given a crutch to hobble around as she couldn't put much pressure on that yet.

No one had clothes that fit Kuina; her old clothes were bloodied and burnt to a crisp. A few of the women in the army had lent her a baggy mesh shirt with a black tank top over that, both which fell to her knees. Kuina kept the shorts that she had been wearing. She had also tied a white sash around her waist to hold her future sword with, once her doctor removed her ban from nearing the swords and training. The black cloaks that almost everyone donned was unavailable to her, as there were none in her size.

They had also offered her undergarments, something Kuina had fervently denied. She had opted to bind her chest with some of the bandages the doctor had.

The ship was huge, and the inside decorations made it look like a mansion instead of a ship, at least from the inside. Kuina had been told to stay below deck, as the Grand Line's weather was tumultuous and her leg was still healing, she would get into trouble. She wasn't exactly happy about that, but she agreed nonetheless.

Between the other revolutionaries discussing issues that she didn't understand, and being forbidden to train or go above deck, Kuina had resorted to wandering around. The first day that her bandages had been taken off, she had walked over to the other patient in the infirmary, who was still in a state of unconsciousness. His erratic breaths told her that he was alive, but she hoped he wasn't in a coma or something.

She had pulled the curtain open to look at him, before wincing and having the sudden urge to hurl (between her seasickness and this, she thought it was well-deserved).

It was a boy, around her age and maybe a little shorter than her. He had short blond hair and a snub nose, and there was an IV sticking to a banged-up arm, but those were the only distinguishing features Kuina could tell at the moment. His entire body was banged up and bruised, his bandages were stained dark with blood and burns peeked out from under them. Some lesser ones were left open in all their blistering, raw, swelling glory. Kuina's leg looked tame compared to this. What the hell had happened to him? Was this the other child that Dragon had saved, and Ivankov had mentioned?

His left eye was also covered up, and for a moment Kuina wondered if he'd lost an eye. His belongings, all varying amounts of scorched and singed, were in a bag on the ground, leaning against the leg of a bed. She stared at his face for a moment (the rest of his gruesome injuries were covered by the blanket), unable to tear her eyes away, like a moth drawn to a flame. Then she gritted her teeth, turned around, and pulled the curtain closed.

Kuina would deny the nightmares of flames and of the almost zen-like boy, sleeping as his body burned away.

When the boy returned to the world of the living, Kuina was slamming a shinai into a training dummy. The bandages around her leg had come off a few weeks ago, but the doctor had only permitted her to begin training the other day. Her body had grown soft during her rest, and now she was throwing herself back in her rigorous exercise head first. One of the revolutionaries, a confident but kind bald man with the trademark black cloak had explained to her the concept and usage of Haki and its effectiveness against Devil Fruit users. Kuina had been aiming to achieve that ever since.

"Kuina-girl." Kuina looked to the door, breathing hard, and blinked sweat out of her eyes to see Ivankov's gaudy face. "The boy has avakened."

"Seriously?" Kuina asked. "With his injuries, I wouldn't have been surprised if he stayed unconscious for half a year." Nevertheless, she propped her shinai against the wall, towelled herself off and gulped down water from a flask, before following the okama (whose transgender status Kuina had discovered rather traumatically; it had involved baths and the usage of a Devil Fruit that Kuina previously didn't know about).

The curtains around the boy had been drawn back, and the revolutionaries crowded him. Once Ivankov arrived with Kuina, they explained the situation to them.

"His memories...? They're not coming back?"

"Yes! The poor boy can't even remember his own name..."

Out of habit, Kuina sized him up. While his injuries hindered him, he acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if he was used to it. At first, Kuina had mistook him for being scrawny, but the telltale knots of muscle were enough to show her that he was more lean than anything. His eyes were wide and confused, clearly they weren't lying when they said that he had lost his memory.

"Your belongings have "Sabo" written on them, so that's probably your name, you think?" The man that had explained the situation on slaves to Kuina held up a charred blue coat.

"Sabo? ...I guess?" The boy said slowly, looking unsure. Despite herself, Kuina felt a twinge of pity for him.

"But one thing's for sure, he's a noble from the Goa Kingdom," Dragon said.

"Then let's send him back. I'll look for his parents," Kuina's Haki instructor said.

That boy was a noble? Kuina supposed that he wouldn't look out of place within the boys in her dojo.

Sabo jolted as if he'd been hit. "No way!" he shouted, looking frantic.

"Huh..."

"I... don't want to go back! Please, take me with you, anywhere but there!" Tears were starting to form out of the corner of his uncovered eye, and Kuina looked away, biting her lip. Sure, she had resented it when her father had pointed out the thorny path that she would have to walk to become a renowned swordswoman, but never to the point of hatred and panic like this boy was showing. She gritted her teeth, turning around and walking away.

"Hn? Kuina-girl? Where are you going?"

"To train," Kuina said darkly, closing the door behind her.

"Your control over Haki is getting better, Kuina-chan," Inazuma noted, allowing Kuina to take off her blindfold. They were a few months into journey, having already passed Loguetown and gone through Reverse Mountain (in which they had been stopped by a strange whale and an old man) and had stopped sporadically to get proper clothes for their younger members, stock up on supplies, and Kuina had even gotten a sword. Granted, it was a cheap one that costed around fifty thousand beris (which was still a lot of money, much to Kuina's guilt), and it was nowhere near as good as Wado had been, but she would take what she got.

"You think?" she said absentmindedly. The blade turned from a patchy black to its regular silver, and she clucked her tongue upon noticing that she had chipped it, despite having kept up with maintenance. It wasn't as if her Armament Haki was perfect, but the damn sword wouldn't stop breaking. She carefully slid it into the red sheath (which, incidentally, matched the hilt), but then she noticed someone at the door. She stopped it from sheathing completely, her thumb on the cross-shaped guard.

Sabo was at the entrance, gripping what seemed to be a metal pole. Didn't she see that among his belongings? The bandages around his face and head had come off, and there was some pink scar tissue over his left eye, but the rest of his burns were still firmly bound.

"You're that noble boy," Kuina said, turning around to look at him. "I thought Sensei wouldn't let you out of bed?"

"I was getting restless, so I snuck out," Sabo answered, grinning sheepishly. He was missing one of his front teeth, Kuina noticed. "How did you get your sword black like that? That's so cool!"

"It's Haki." Inazuma launched into a detailed explanation of it. Only half-listening, Kuina put down her sword and picked up a few weights, and began doing shoulder presses. Her reps were in their fifties when Sabo addressed her again.

"Kuina-chan, right? I don't think we've met before." He smiled again and held out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Sabo! Nice to meet you."

Kuina eyed the outstretched hand, putting down her weights and huffing. "I'm all sweaty, you sure you want to shake my hand, Sabo-kun?" The corner of her mouth quirked up in a confident grin. She shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

"Say, can you wield that pole?" she continued, contemplating the length of metal.

Sabo gave her a cocky grin, mirroring hers. "Want to find out?"

Their intense sparring match ended with Kuina's win, but only because Sabo's injuries were hindering him. She didn't want to go all-out against him because of said wounds, but his movements were swift and hard to read and his blows were heavier than she would've thought. She was covered in bruises and sweating profusely, and her right arm was going numb with a rather well-placed blow. Sabo, on the other hand, was lying on his back, heaving great breaths and sporting just as many contusions, if not more, than her; she was still unused to a sharp weapon and had opted to use a shinai instead.

"Kuina-chan, you didn't use Haki at all," Inazuma commented, "though that would've given you an edge."

"I - I'm not used... to using Haki.. in the heat of battle yet..." Kuina said, doubling over in an attempt to catch her breath.

"Inazuma... -san," Sabo said from his position spread-eagled on the floor. "Could you... teach me Haki.. as well?"

"...Tell you what," Inazuma said after studying the two fatigued children. "I'll get Dragon-san to oversee your training. Both of yours."

"Seriously?!" Kuina looked up at him, her eyes wide. She beamed at the dual-toned man. "For real, Inazuma-san?!"

"Dragon-san?! Himself?" Sabo cracked an astonished eye open.

Before Inazuma could continue though, there was a loud "SABO-KUUUUUUUUN!" shouted in the distance, and the two children jolted, and continued to sweat profusely, but for a different reason.

"Shit, that's the doctor," Sabo muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

"You run that way, I'll run this way," Kuina instructed, her eyes wide and alarmed.

In the end, both of them had gotten caught, a spanking and a scolding (despite both children insisting that they were far too old for this), Sabo for sneaking out of bed and engaging in physical exercise, and Kuina for encouraging it. Suspiciously, Inazuma got off scot-free.

"Ow ow ow, Sensei really doesn't hold back, does he?" Sabo commented, wincing as he eased in the bed once they were finally freed. With one hand, he rubbed at his aching rear end. Kuina was standing instead of sitting, for the same reasons.

"I haven't gotten a spanking since I was four," she complained. Begrudgingly, she sat down carefully. "You probably shouldn't do that again."

"What, sneak out of bed while I'm healing? Or kick your ass?"

"Yeah - hey! I totally won that match!"

"Sounds like something a loser would say ~"

Kuina stood up and stretched his cheeks to a disproportionate amount, scowling irritably as Sabo laughed. Eventually, they fell into a sort of comfortable silence, Kuina staring at the spider in the corner. He had just caught a fly and was walking over to a juicy dinner.

"Hey, why did you join the Revolutionary Army?" Sabo said suddenly. Kuina looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I mean... you're not like me, right? You probably... remember your friends and family, don't you? Why did you leave them?"

Kuina chewed on her lip, thinking of an appropriate response. "I guess... it's because I felt obligated to," she answered. "I did take a while to decide, but after hearing everyone's stories and their struggles, about how so many more people were suffering under a corrupt system, I couldn't leave it alone. Don't get me wrong, I'm doing this of my own free will, but I have a personal goal too."

"Which is?"

She stood up, putting a hand over her hip. "To become the world's greatest swordsman. I promised someone that I wouldn't lose, so I definitely won't."

Sabo grinned. "I see."

"Father, why did you name me after a flightless bird?" Kuina was in the middle of sharpening Wado, a practice her father had taught her years ago. What Zoro had said earlier had been bothering her. "What good is a bird if it can't fly?"

Her dad looked amused by her question. "Well, Kuina..."

"Anyway, dinner's starting soon, so I'd better get going before it all gets devoured." Kuina changed the subject, standing up (something her raw butt thanked her endlessly for). "Do you want me to bring you some?"

"Sure! Thanks."

Kuina drew the curtains, allowing the amnesiac boy some rest and quiet. "No problem."

On her way to the mess hall, she was stopped by Breverton, one of the more senior members of the Revolutionary Army and a very proficient swordsman. "Hey, Kuina-chan," he said, smiling his large trademark grin, "we'll be arriving at the island soon, so they won't be serving dinner in the ship. It's a quaint little place called Nanimonai Island. Uninhabited."

"Seriously? That's awesome, I've been dying to get on dry land," Kuina complained. "Thanks, Breverton-san." The man in question just grinned and took a sip from his beer.

As Kuina hurried back to tell Sabo about the news, she became lost in her thoughts about the people she had left behind in East Blue. She was in the Grand Line now, already far beyond the point of return. Hopefully, Zoro had received her message and was training with the knowledge that he would see her again as a rival for the crown of the best, and her father would look at Wado Ichimonji knowing that its former wielder was still alive.

"Just because a bird can't fly, that doesn't mean it never will."

A/N: Please don't hesitate to leave a review if you liked it! It would really make my day. Also, if anyone is interested in betaing this fic, please PM me, they are very welcome owo