Chapter Text
Such a cozy afternoon.
Sabo’s eyes were still closed even when his consciousness slowly slipped up from the undeniably most comfortable sleep he had in years. In his half-awake state, he faintly recognized what could only be warm evening sunlight basking his entire body. The soft, salty breezes gently brushed his face. The noise of people talking from somewhere far away served as a white noise.
Like all these things were telling him to go back to sleep.
And Sabo, not one to deny such a tempting offer, buried his face down the pillow cushioning his head and making himself comfortable under his heavy blanket. And just like everything around him, they were so warm and cozy.
Until one particular voice faded into existence. it still sounded so far away, like they could as well be on completely different Blue. But the content was what snapped Sabo back to the world of the waking.
“Pick up another stray, aren’t we?” asked the voice. And no matter how sleepy or completely wasted he was, there was no way Sabo would be convinced it belonged to his work partner, Koala. Even though she was normally the one who woke him up before their missions.
This voice was way deeper than hers. It belonged to not a girl his age, but a grown man.
With that new realization, Sabo’s eyes shot open so fast it almost hurt. Bright sunlight blinded him from actually seeing anything for a second— it wasn’t from the small window by his bed, no. it wasn’t his room
It was enough time for the man to get the answer he asked.
“Yeah. Though I don’t really know who pick who this time. Last night was a lil’ hazy, can’t even remember where we met.”
Another voice came with a light-hearted chuckle, and a set of soft rumbles from his pillow and blanket, moving his body along slightly. And it was when Sabo realized with horror that they weren’t pillows after all.
His limbs were still heavy with sleep, but finally, Sabo got his vision back.
Being way too close to his personal space was a face of a boy with coarse black hair framing his face. A pair of smokey gray eyes almost glowing reflected the bright sunlight above. A lazy grin and sea of freckles sat high on his face. Behind him was the floor made of not pristine white stones but wooden planks, not an enclosed space of a room but an alarmingly open air— it wasn’t Baltingo.
Where in the seas was he? And more importantly, who the fuck was this guy?
While Sabo was internally beating himself up, the two— the voice and the raven-haired boy— continued talking among themselves. None of them noticed Sabo yet, so he opted to stay completely still.
For now, at least.
“Aren’t they always?” the voice said with a heavy sigh— Sabo couldn’t see him, he was standing behind him. “These little guys sure have their favorite, aren’t they?”
“Naww, don’t be jealous, Deuce. I’m sure if you act more friendly, they’ll be more open to you too.”
The man named Deuce huffed (really? Who in their right minds named their child Deuce? ). It came with the sound of clothes shuffling and a heavy boot tapping the wooden plank. “I’m afraid not,” he grumbled, “Doesn't matter. I’m not a big fan of cats in the first place.”
Cats?
Like being hit by a heavy hammer, his head throbbed from hearing the word alone. Like it broke a dam in his mind. And all at once, a nasty chunk of memories folded in his hazy empty mind.
It was from before he was out— the mission , his first one here on the New World, The plan was to steal one hell of an important document from the queen’s library, the evidence proving the existence of her little side jobs— like a human trafficking business or two.
He was— he was on his way to the palace, in that dark, dirty alleyway on the town’s outskirts he sure as hell was a shortcut. A cloaked figure leaning on the damp wall covered in moss and piss and ale.
And then— then all he could remember was being so cold, cold and tired and sleepy. Then came the most comfortable, safest warmth. And then… nothing .
He couldn’t recall anything after that.
The chilly night air alone couldn't do that much, he knew. So the most probable explanation was that last night, in the alleyway, he was ambushed— by some kind of Devil Fruit User.
An earth-shaking laughter came from beneath, and Sabo jumped away from the boy as he would to a lump of burning coal.
“Oh, he’s awake!”
“Hey, careful!”
When his instinctive response kicked in, Sabo forgot that the first man was somewhere behind. And crashed into him not so gently. And considering that Sabo himself was no longer small anymore— he was eighteen, and in the middle of his growth sprout. This kind of impact normally should bump them both down the ground.
But here was the thing— the only one bouncing back was Sabo, the man didn’t move an inch.
“What the—!” he landed on all four, followed by a short string of curses under his breath— a force of habit. Somehow, most adults at the base weren’t so fond of a child using swear words, as if it mattered in this already rotten world anyway.
“See? They fucking hate me,” Deuce— he thought he’d better off being called Notebook — gritted his teeth as he said. He had a hand raised above his head with a worn-out notebook clutched tightly in it. “That’s just saying about my luck, Ace. Cats hate me.”
“Chill, man. Your luck’s fine, alright. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” With his body still lying flat on the wooden floor, the freckled boy craned his neck to the side, and seemed to direct his next words to Sabo, “Right, little friend?”
Little friend , he said?
“Who are you calling litt—?!”
But Sabo’s words trailed off before he could finish— wait , something didn’t add up?
“Oh, he clearly means it, Ace,” Deuce threw both his hands up now. Sabo belatedly noticed how big he was— not like Hack kind of big, no. He thought his fishman mentor was already massive, but this guy was even bigger . Sure, Sabo was currently crouching on the floor, but still, he couldn’t even reach his knees .
Then the freckled one (A… something? Ann? Ace?) started laughing again, all light-hearted and sunny. But it was before he propped himself up on his elbows, easily towering over Sabo with no effort at all.
What the— what in the seas. Where the fuck was he now? And these two? Were they giants or something? He was sure the cloaked figure wasn’t this big— in fact, he believed they were even on the smaller side compared to himself.
Eight whole years in the Army and countless training camps made him properly jump to his feet— well, try to, because he failed. His legs somehow caught in a weird angle all on their own, sending him wobbling back down on all fours with a loud thud!
“Whoa, easy there, buddy,” Freckles pushed himself up fully now, and reached his too-long, too-big arms towards Sabo, “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? Hungry?”
And he, with those massive arms, scooped Sabo up and towards himself. And it was at that exact moment he caught a glimpse of his own body. —and almost wished Koala was here to knock him back out again.
Because— what in the actual seas was happening?
Warping in Freckles’ massive arms was supposed to be his own body, his . But now it wasn’t. — instead of his usual button-up dress shirt, his lanky limbs were now covered in stubby blonde fur. And as he looked up, it didn’t seem to have a hem or collar indicating it was clothing, not at all. Seas, there were even patches of missing fur on his left arm where the burn scars were supposed to be. And that thing wagging behind him since a while ago— was that an actual tail ?
Apparently, sabo was turned into a cat.
(What the fuck?)
___
Sabo ended up running away.
But he could only go so far— as he just now realized, they were on a ship after all, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by open sea and her salty breezes, by clear sky and scorching sunlight. Not even the smallest hint of islands to be seen.
Luckily, neither of them followed him. But that hardly meant anything— he was still on their ship. And Sabo had all the reasons why he shouldn’t feel so safe being at the mercy of pirates .
Yes, Pirates.
Sabo was thrown off guard seeing the black flag hanging proudly atop their main mast. Out of all the people who could potentially be abducting him in his weakened state, of course, it was pirates, the most unpredictable, madest one of all.
Balancing on the main mast’s yard, Sabo squinted his eyes around the bright light coating all over the deck. —He was at an advantageous point where he could see all sailors working on the deck while they could hardly spot him from below.
During years of helping out in the Revolutionary Army, Sabo had seen his fair share of pirates, but this one was especially particular, to the point he couldn't help saying it aloud:
“What a bunch of weirdos.”
His eyes darted from the group of sailors drinking and singing off-tune songs by the left hull, to another polishing blade and guns near the cabin door, and then to another large crowd forming a loose circle around the two fighting— he couldn’t find Notebook, but Freckles was right in the middle of the ring.
He called it fighting, but it seemed to be a friendly spar more than anything. No bullets, no cutlasses, and just the tiniest amount of blood involved. And no one actually bothered him even when Sabo had been slouching here for quite a while now.
It took a while to cool down his head and actually let it think. The first thing he did was revise the whole situation again— so he was attacked during a mission. The cloaked figure used their power on him and changed his body. Then he somehow ended up on a random pirate ship totally unrelated to the grand scheme of things.
Yep, good, all good. Next.
Sabo squeezed his brain trying to recall all the details from the night, and thought these guys weren’t with the one in the alleyway after all. —thinking back, Sabo could almost picture the way she lean against that dirty wall. And that the thick cloak covering her entire body couldn’t hide the seagull symbol hanging from her silvery necklace.
She was a Navy. And he would choose pirates over those rotten pieces of humankind anytime. And he was almost certain these people shared the same thoughts, they were both outlaws after all.
But now that the first danger was out of the way, it gave rise to the next, more serious one: how could he get his body back?
The most logical one was to find the culprit— the Fruit User, and force her to turn him back. But to do that, it meant he had to, at least, get back to the island. And that was where the real problem was.
How could he go back? In this state?
Seas knew how far they had sailed from the port, it was already a whole day after, at the very least. Sabo obviously couldn’t just swim all the way back. And while he normally would just steal a rowboat and be off, it was also out of the options. This cursed body of his had paws , small and lumpy, with finger pads and everything. And he wasn't even sure they could hold a pen, let alone rowing a whole boat.
With those annoying conditions, his only option left was to jump ship— which highly depended on luck, to be honest. Seas knew when they’d sail past another ship heading to the island. So, his best shot was to convince this crew’s captain to change their course.
But that , though, also led to yet another problem he never thought could happen: he had no idea who was supposed to be the captain.
Sabo let out a groan as he once again scanned all over the deck. —Some of the drinking group passed out and some rolled out more booze from below deck, with the lone man polishing his weapons now joining in. Notebook walked out of the cabin now, his light blue hair almost glowing under the sunlight. And while he could potentially be the captain, it didn’t sit quite right, somehow.
The pirate captains Sabo had seen were more… ruthless and dirty. It was always big, stinky old men with unkept beards who always screamed out wicked laughers and such. Notebook was too clean, to be honest, and too sober. It wasn’t him.
Then his gaze shifted sideways, towards the fighting ring. Seem like they were still at it, but it turned into group brawls somehow. With every sailor ganging up on Freckles. But still, the guy was grinning ear to ear as he swiftly dealt with each and every attack sent his way. The hem of his bright yellow shirt fluttered up as he moved. His coarse black hair looked like it was covered in thick layers of grease even looking from here. And his steely gray eyes shone with pure joy. —Sabo could agree with that, there wasn't anything better than a good fight.
It reminded him of the event from an hour ago— when he woke up two inches away from the boy’s face. He didn't think of anything back then, but right now, he had an itchy feeling that Freckles’ face looked oddly familiar somewhat.
It was like he couldn’t tore his eyes away from the boy in the center of the deck. Seeing the way his eyes crinkled as his grin grew larger after defeating yet another crewmate. The way his body moved like dancing around the group fighting against him.
And those freckles decorating his tan skin like seas of stars reflecting on the ocen surface. Like he fully belonged with the setting sun and blowing sea breezes.
Sabo had definitely saw him before. —it was about the where that was mysterious. Maybe it was one of the newspapers? Wanted posters?
Then a wave of pain shot up the side of his head. Guess he did too much thinking for the day— it always was more Koala things than him. —Where was his best friend when he needed her the most?
But putting that aside, the guy looked way too young to be the captain. He looked just around Sabo’s age, if not a little bit younger. So it also wasn’t him.
His head continued throbbing. But Sabo was more than ready to push his limit, Seas knew how many all-nighters he pulled to finish reports as he climbed up the rank— this much was nothing, he barely broke a sweat, really.
With that thought in mind, Sabo continued searching the deck, trying to find the ones looking even remotely like the captain.
—But still, his eyes kept drifting back to the familiar freckled boy. He was fighting in the middle of the deck after all, and was now falling head-first onto the ground even though no one landed a single hit on him. Whatever, it was distracting.
Sabo tore his eyes away again, towards the right hull being left unoccupied, then to the crow’s nests right below him. And still got nothing.
Then who was it? Had he not searched well enough?