The crickets were louder than usual that night.
Kairo crouched in the tall grass on the hill behind Partys Bar, the sweat on his palms cold despite the warmth in the air. His eyes stayed fixed on the tree line, where three faint silhouettes huddled just out of lantern range.
Higuma and his men.
Still watching. Still waiting.
They were too patient. It didn't make sense. In the show, the bandits had left after mocking Shanks and returned later, enraged. But here, they'd already taken a hit — walked out with bloodied pride and bruised egos — and yet they hadn't retaliated yet.
Kairo's stomach twisted.
What are you waiting for, you bastard?
He glanced back at the village. Lights flickered behind curtains. The tavern was quiet now, the pirates likely asleep or drunk in a pile somewhere. Luffy was with Makino. The bar's front porch was empty.
The village was still. Unprotected.
He weighed his options. He had no sword. No gun. Not even the chain weapon he'd grown used to practicing with behind the house. All he had was what he knew.
And time.
But not much of it.
Kairo slid back into the brush, careful not to make noise. His boots moved slow, silent, like he'd practiced — not in this life, but in his last. Stealth games, old fantasy novels, spy shows. None of it prepared him for the real fear curling in his lungs.
They're going to take Luffy.
The moment he said it to himself, it became iron.
That was their plan. Wait until the bar was empty. Until the pirates left. Snatch the kid. Use him to humiliate Shanks. Or ransom him. Or worse. The sea king would be part of that fallout, sure — but it wasn't just about fate anymore.
They were predators.
He needed leverage.
He slipped down the backside of the hill, away from the main road, and followed the trail that led toward the fishing shacks and storage huts. Lanterns glowed faintly inside the tool shed near the dock. Old nets. Ropes. Hooks. Oil lamps.
He grabbed a length of heavy fishing line, some iron weights, and a gutting knife with a chipped handle.
It wasn't much.
But it would do.
Back up the slope, the moon had risen higher. The woods were black and glinting. He moved fast, keeping low, until he reached the edge of the trees. He waited. Listened.
Voices. Low, muttering. Someone mentioned "brat." Another mentioned "reputation."
Then: "Wait until the red-hairs sail. We'll take the kid, teach the village who runs things."
Kairo's hands gripped the knife tighter.
They were waiting for the pirates to leave.
That meant tomorrow. Maybe dawn. Which gave him tonight.
He could warn Shanks.
He could warn Makino.
He could even—
Snap.
A twig cracked under his boot.
Silence.
Then one voice. Cold. Clipped.
"Who's there?"
Kairo bolted.
He didn't look. Didn't breathe. Just ran.
The trees whipped past him. Leaves clawed at his arms. He skidded down the slope toward the village, feet pounding earth like drums.
A shout behind him.
Another voice cursed.
No pursuit — yet.
He ducked behind the barrels by Makino's well and crouched low, breath ragged.
Nothing followed.
After a minute, he crept around the corner, took the back path, and slipped through the rear door of the bar.
Inside, it was dark. One candle burned behind the counter. The pirates were gone — all except Benn Beckman, who sat alone near the window, rifle across his knees, eyes like a wolf waiting to bite.
He looked up.
Kairo froze.
Beckman's gaze locked onto him. "You were out late."
Kairo nodded, breath still shaking.
"You find what you were looking for?"
Another nod.
Beckman stood slowly. "Talk."
Kairo swallowed. "Higuma's planning to kidnap Luffy after you leave. At dawn. He's hiding in the woods."
Beckman didn't blink. "How do you know that?"
"I overheard them."
Beckman's stare sharpened. "How'd you get close enough without them seeing you?"
"I didn't."
"You're not lying."
"No."
Beckman sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Shanks's not gonna like this."
"Then stop it before it happens."
"Why do you care so much?" Beckman asked. "You barely know the kid."
Kairo looked away. "That kid's gonna change the world."
Beckman's eyes narrowed.
Kairo turned back to him. "Just tell Shanks. Please."
Beckman studied him for a long moment, then finally nodded.
"Go home. Lock the door."
Kairo turned to leave.
Beckman called out softly, "You got good instincts."
Kairo paused in the doorway. "I've just seen this episode before."
He left without explaining.
And outside, under the heavy weight of the stars, he didn't feel relieved.
He felt the clock ticking faster.
The door to Partys Bar closed behind him with a soft thud.
Kairo stood in the alleyway, heart still racing. The candlelight inside had vanished behind the warped wood slats of the bar's back door. Beckman would tell Shanks. The crew would know.
It should have felt like victory.
Instead, Kairo felt the weight of it pressing into his bones.
He'd interfered. For real, this time. Not a sidelong warning. Not vague hints. A full-blown reveal of future danger. Not in exact detail—but enough to shift things.
This is the pivot point, he thought. This is where the story begins to split.
He walked fast toward his house, cutting through the empty village square. The lanterns had burned low. A soft wind stirred the laundry still pinned to lines. All of Foosha Village slept as if tomorrow wouldn't shatter like glass.
Halfway to his door, a sound caught him.
Footsteps.
Fast. Close.
He turned.
Too late.
A body slammed into him, knocking him back into the side of a crate with a crack of wood and spine.
Kairo gasped as rough hands grabbed his collar and yanked him forward.
"Think you're clever, little rat?"
The voice was rancid with sake and spit.
Higuma.
Kairo's fist went for the gutting knife at his side, but another hand twisted his wrist, forcing it away. Two men. At least. Maybe three.
A fist cracked against his jaw. Bright white pain lit his vision.
"You like spying on people?" one snarled in his ear.
Another blow — to the ribs this time. Kairo doubled over, the breath knocked from his lungs.
"You think telling those pirates would scare us off?"
He gritted his teeth. He didn't scream. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
A hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.
Higuma's face loomed over him, eyes narrow, mouth twisted in a sneer. "You just bought this village a whole lot of pain."
Kairo spat blood.
"Funny," he croaked, "I thought I bought you a warning."
Higuma's fist rose again.
But this time, it didn't fall.
A click.
Then a voice—low, smooth, and deadly calm.
"I'd let go of him if I were you."
All three men turned.
Beckman stood ten feet away, a cigar tucked between his teeth, his rifle held at a lazy angle that somehow looked like it could kill all three men at once.
His eyes burned with ice.
"Last chance."
Higuma stared at him, weighing options, but he knew. They all did.
Kairo was dropped, and he crumpled to the dirt.
The pirates didn't step closer. Didn't challenge. Just vanished into the dark, boots crunching like retreating cowards.
Beckman walked over and crouched beside Kairo.
"You okay?"
Kairo tried to sit up. His chest flared with pain.
"Not dead."
"Good enough," Beckman said, then pulled out a flask and handed it over. "Swish, don't swallow."
Kairo did, grimacing as the alcohol stung his cut lip.
Beckman lit his cigar again and sat down on the crate beside him.
"You knew they'd come for you," he said.
"I figured."
"Then why risk it?"
Kairo looked at him. "Because if they took Luffy, you'd all be gone. And no one else could stop them."
Beckman exhaled smoke. "You're not what you pretend to be."
"I don't know what I am anymore."
They sat in silence.
After a while, Beckman muttered, "Shanks wants to talk to you."
Kairo sighed. "Of course he does."
"He's not mad."
"I'd be disappointed if he wasn't."
Beckman chuckled. "You're a strange one, Kairo."
"You have no idea."
The pirate stood and offered a hand. Kairo took it and let himself be pulled up, groaning as his ribs protested.
"Can you walk?"
"Not elegantly."
"Close enough."
They walked back to the bar under the wide black sky, stars glittering above like pinpricks in a vast sail.
At the door, Beckman paused.
"Kairo."
"Yeah?"
Beckman looked at him sideways. "You've changed something tonight."
Kairo nodded. "I know."
"Just make sure it was the right thing."
Kairo didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
The bar was dark, but not silent.
Voices murmured low behind the swinging doors. Boots scraped floorboards. A bottle clinked against wood. The warm glow of lantern light spilled from within, flickering like the glow of a hearth before a storm.
Beckman pushed the door open, and Kairo stepped in.
Every pair of eyes turned to him.
Shanks stood behind the counter, a half-empty sake bottle in one hand, his red hair a mess, shirt half-buttoned like he'd been roused out of sleep—or drinking.
Lucky Roo sat on a barrel, still chewing, as if this were just another story unfolding.
Yasopp leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, one brow arched.
Kairo's breath caught in his throat.
This was a version of them he hadn't seen on screen—serious. Focused. Their cheer and laughter stripped away, leaving behind something older. Sharper. Dangerous.
Shanks set the bottle down and spoke first. "You okay, kid?"
Kairo nodded stiffly. "Bruised. Not broken."
"Good." He walked out from behind the counter, footsteps slow and even. "Beckman told me what happened."
Kairo stayed quiet.
Shanks smiled—not kindly, not cruelly, just... thoughtfully. "You knew what they were planning before anyone else did."
"I overheard them."
"That's what you said. It's just funny." Shanks tilted his head. "They weren't that loud."
Kairo's eyes narrowed.
"You've been watching them for days," Shanks continued. "Scouting. Listening. Avoiding attention."
"I had suspicions."
Shanks stopped in front of him. Not looming. Just... present. Like gravity.
"You're not from this village," he said.
"No."
"You're not one of ours."
Kairo didn't flinch. "No."
"Then tell me, Kairo... who are you really?"
Silence.
Kairo's lips parted—then closed.
He couldn't say it. Couldn't tell them he'd seen them before, watched them from another world, knew the shape of their deaths like song lyrics burned into his bones.
So he said the only true thing left.
"I'm someone who wants to make sure the story doesn't end too early."
Shanks blinked once.
Then threw his head back and laughed.
It was loud, echoing, almost startling in the tension. The others relaxed by inches. Even Beckman let out a long exhale.
"You're strange," Shanks said, wiping at his eye. "Strange and serious. I like that."
Kairo frowned. "I'm not joking."
"I know." Shanks grinned. "And that's what makes it funny."
He turned, walked to the counter, poured a glass of sake, and downed it in one smooth motion.
Then, quietly: "The truth is, I already planned to take care of Higuma."
Kairo stiffened.
"We've been watching him, too," Beckman added. "We were just waiting to see how bold he'd get."
"But I didn't expect you to get in the middle," Shanks said, facing him again. "That part was new."
"You were going to let them kidnap Luffy?" Kairo asked sharply.
"No," Shanks said, calm. "I was going to let them try."
Kairo stared.
"I knew they'd come back," Shanks continued. "Knew they'd get brave. But I also knew they wouldn't make it out of town if they touched a hair on that kid's head."
"So I jumped the gun," Kairo muttered.
"No," Shanks said, voice quiet now. "You cared. That's the part that matters."
He looked Kairo over, gaze measuring, thoughtful.
"You got instincts," he said. "And guts. I've met ten times your number of fighters with half your sense."
Kairo shifted, unsure.
"Which brings me to this," Shanks said. "I'm leaving soon. My crew's headed back to the Grand Line. We won't be back for a while."
"I know," Kairo said before he could stop himself.
Shanks raised an eyebrow.
Kairo coughed. "Makino mentioned it."
"Right." Shanks smirked. "Well. When I go, I'm taking Luffy's dream with me—and the last thing I want is to leave this town unguarded."
He looked directly at Kairo.
"So I've got a proposition."
Kairo held his breath.
"I'll leave a piece of the Red-Hair name behind. Not a flag. Not a marker. A person. Someone to keep eyes open. Watch the tides."
Kairo's heart jumped.
"Me?" he asked.
Shanks shrugged. "Unless you had other plans."
"I—" Kairo stopped. "No. I don't."
"You stay," Shanks said. "You keep watching. You keep listening. When the time comes, if Luffy really sails like he says... maybe he won't leave without you."
Kairo stared at him.
"You're offering me a future."
Shanks grinned. "Nah. Just a head start."
For the first time in days, Kairo let himself smile.
Maybe fate wasn't broken. Maybe it was just... shifting course.