A/N: Wow, where did this come from? Bloody challengers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rare treat I'm about to provide you, as I'm relatively certain that no one has done-or thought to attempt-such an audacious idea as this. Anywho, read, review, and enjoy!

Oh and...be prepared for spoilers.

The Prodigal

A young man was about to make the most important decision of his young life.

He was a handsome fellow, if a bit scruffy looking.

Wild blue eyes stood framed in a tan face cut by whiskered cheeks and wild flaxen hair. His lips pursed into a small scowl as he surveyed the object held within his hand.

"Well, well," He murmured softly. "What do we have here?"

Arms upraised, he observed his prize. He peered down from the heights, surveying all the carnage at his feet with only the slightest of queasiness. Two bodies lay beneath his feet. One, had been murdered, stabbed to death by another. It was that other whom he'd just slain with the very dagger that the man had used to kill his comrade, leaving the murderer-to-be to perish, to bleed out and die a slow, painful death beneath his boots.

He suspected that the second man might live, if someone were to reach him in time.

The first man had already been dead by the time he'd climbed aboard. The thief had arrived just in time to see the second man, a large man with scruffy clothing and copious chest hair, hefting his prize; a strange, rotund item that he'd stolen from the first man. He'd been so preoccupied with his had been relatively simple to pounce upon him and claim his prize before it could be spirited away.

The source of their quarrel, you ask?

A purple piece of fruit.

It was a large, round, light purple fruit made up of many small teardrop shaped swirls, sweeping across its surface from root to stem. Green leaves sprouted at the top, a deep and vibrant, earthy green that bellied whatever dread power it containted. Overall, it looked like someone had fused a pineapple with a number of oversized, unusually shaped grapes and painted the whole thing a violent violet.

The thief held the fruit high, and appraised it, turning it over in his hands, marvelling at it and its potential worth. If this was what he thought it was, he was about to become very, very rich. Oh yes, rich indeed. He could sell it for well over $100,000,000. Or, or he could eat it, and risk becoming a hammer, at the cost of whatever dread power that fruit bestowed upon him. Regardless, he needed to make his decision, and quick.

But...

...did he really want to sell this?

He didn't know what he wanted; because it was calling to him. It called to him, begging him to throw caution to the wind, and indulge. He was tempted. Sorely tempted. Who was to say, after all, that he could not? There was no one on deck at present, and there would most likely not be anyone for quite some time. Dimly, he remembered that the bodies of two men, one dead, the other dying, still lay at his feet. He had to make a decision. Then he had to make an escape, posthaste.

Therefore, it didn't come as much of a surprise when he found his lips parting, his teeth sinking into the rare delicacy that was a cursed fruit. It tasted...well, he couldn't quite describe the taste; he knew only that it felt squishy and did not taste as any fruit should. But who was he to complain? Especially now, after he'd forgone his better judgement and made such a-life altering-decison?

Beggars couldn't be choosers, after all.

He bit a chunk out of the fruit, knowing that it could very well be his last. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he couldn't see where he was. It was almost as if someone had draped a veil across his vision, blinding him. Against his better judgement, he swallowed. That was his second mistake. Pain shot up his larynx, and he choked. Then came the pain, a deep, searing agony that threatened to blot everything else out and smother him in blessed, blissful blackness.

For a moment, he wanted nothing more than that. To die. To be spared from the transformation tearing through his body, rearranging his cellular structure, infusing every cell with a power he'd never before known in his pitiful life as a burglar. Briefly, he wondered if his wish might be granted, somehow. Because the pain was excruciating. It twisted and tore at every fiber of his being and still, he wanted nothing more than to submit.

But he did not die.

He clenched his teeth and willed himself to stop screaming despite the excruciating pain firing through his body. He forced down his bile and took another bite of the fruit, and another, and still another, until only the stem remained of the Then through a dark haze, he saw the vauge shape of his hands. They were as the darkness was; oozing power, intensity, and foulness.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Steeling himself against the incessant stream of power, feeling it lance into his chest and spread inside him like ice, he willed his body to move. He stood woodenly, not taking enough care. He held out a hand, his fingers trembling, and an orb of blackness formed over it, hovering in the air. He could feel that power reaching out to him tugging at his blood. He felt it pumping through his chest, dark and heavy from the taint. It moved through him like sludge.

It felt right.

Abruptly, the orb imploded in on itself, winking out of existence, leaving the air around it colder. The thief shuddered. Whatever this power was, he would need time to master the full extent of it. He would need a great many days-years, even-to tame this power, and he no longer had any of that-

The sound of footsteps slammed across the deck.

Slow and methodical. Lacking, in any sort of haste or trepidation whatsoever. Gulping, the thief risked a glance over his shoulder as the cabin door slammed open, and a massive man emerged, squeezing through the hulking doorframe, a door that had clearly been built while taking his considerable size into consideration.

"Gurarara...

The sky shook and the ship quaked before his approach.

Such was the terror that his presence inspired, such, was his majesty. He was a great goliath of a man, wielding a mighty glaive in one hand, and the other was clenched into a furious fist, around which the air trembled with an incessant thrumming. Belatedly, the thief recognized him. He knew this man. How could he not? Everyone knew this face; as it stood upon the face of his jolly roger, so too, did the whole world fear it.

"Gurarara..." The man laughed softly, dangerously. "If you have something to say, boy, then you'd best say it now."

The thief gulped, aghast. Of all the crews he could have stolen from, of all the pirate crews that his little boat could encounter here, in the dark, stormy sea, it had to be him it had to be the man closest to One Piece. It had to be the most fearsome pirate ever, the man who treated all of his crew members, all of his allies, like family. The man who'd never forgive an enemy once he set his sights upon him, especially if said enemy attacked one such "son" as this.

Whitebeard.

He'd snuck onto the Moby Dick!

"Well now, boy," Edward Newgate, possibly the strongest man in the world, peered down at the sweating blond that stood before him. "Have you anything to say, before I kill you? Or perhaps you can tell me what you hoped to accomplish, by stealing from me?" He let the statement hand, unadorned between them, and the lad didn't dare refute his claim. He was right, after all. He just...hadn't expected it to be Whitebeard's ship at the dock!

"I-I didn't kill them!" He protested loudly, suddenly very much aware of the lights flickering on in the lowers decks; the signs of life stirring, returning to the ship. In an instant the deck would be swarmed with Whitebeard's crew, and once that happened, his chances of escape became practically nonexistent. Honestly it wasn't fair! He was just a thief and a humble one at that! Cursed Fruit powers or nor, he couldn't be expected to tangle with Whitebeard and survive! He knew it and dreaded it, dreaded this man's eventual response; as those granite grey eyes narrowed to intense onyx slits of stormy anger.

"Oho?" Whitebeard rumbled. "And why should I take the word of a thief?"

"Because, I...er...oh, fuck it!"

The thief flung his hands up in surrender.

"Him!" He pointed to the prostrate form of the pirate he'd supposedly slain, the man now groaning softly and incoherently. "It was him! He killed the other guy! Not me! Do you hear me? Not me!"

"Teach?" Whitebeard inclined his head fractionally. "Why should I choose to believe that, boy?"

"It's not boy!" The thief snarled, his anger bursting forth at the mention of his age. "Naruto! My name is Na-ru-to! My mom gave me that name and I'm damn proud of it and I don't want to hear you call me "boy" ever again, you old geezer!" Too late, he realized his mistake. Too late, he remembered to whom he was speaking. Too late. Much, much, too late. Abashed, the thief clapped a hand over his mouth, lest he sign his own death sentence.

Damn but he'd really done it this time!

"Gurarara..."Whitebeard laughed. "How saucy you are!" Then his gaze sobered. "Still, it doesn't change anything. Whether you killed Thatch or not remains to be seen, but, it looks like you ate the cursed fruit he found, didn't you?" Naruto's dour expression spoke volumes, and this time, Whitebeard didn't laugh. "However, it'd be a shame if I let you die here, kid." He grinned, and suddenly, that grin was a terrifying one. "If you still want to wreak havoc on this sea, bear my name on your back and go wild as much as you like...! Become my son, and I'll give you a second chance!"

"See, I knew you wouldn't believe...

Naruto blinked.

...what?"

A/N: Zyahahaha! That's right! I did the unthinkable! Teach may have murdered Thatch, but now, an unwitting Naruto MAY have in turn murdered Teach! And I think you all know the name of the fruit he just ate. That's right. It's the Yami Yami no mi. Will this make him a villian, however? That, depends on you. He could be perfectly harmless, or he could be the most wicked man to sail the seven seas with a massive harem of sea-faring wenches to boot. Also, as a side note, Naruto's mother, Kushina, is alive and well in this fic, and Naruto has been living with her in his home on Leaf Island (Yes, I invented the name but hey, he had to come from somewhere, right?) Still, goody, or bady...

...For once, dear readers, the choice is entirely up to you.

Oh, and please review and vote until my eyes fall out from reading. Although...being a skeleton...I HAVE NO EYES! YOHOHOHO! SKUUUUUUULL JOOOOOOKE!