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One Piece: As Heavy as a Gale #52
🕑 Added 2025-05-17 01:51:57 +0000 UTCGale and Poqin trailed behind Luffy at a safe distance, sticking to the trees like two very unmotivated ninjas. The forest was quiet, save for the sound of birds, crunching twigs, and Luffy occasionally muttering nonsense to himself like a child narrating his own imaginary adventure.
"Captain Luffy sets sail into the deadly Jungle of Death! Where no man has returned… except me! And maybe Ace and Sabo. But they're dumb."
Gale raised an eyebrow. "Do you think he knows we can hear him from here?"
"No," Poqin said flatly, hands behind his head as he walked. “I also don’t think he cares.”
Halfway through the hike, Luffy paused in a sun-dappled clearing and unfolded the crumpled paper in his hand again. It flapped lazily in the wind for a second before he pulled it taut and gave it the most serious expression his rubbery face could manage.
Gale squinted. “Wait. Is that a map?”
Poqin leaned sideways to peek between two trees. “Yep. That’s a map. I’d recognize poorly drawn landmarks and coffee stains anywhere.”
The monk scratched his head and smirked. “I bet you five thousand berries he never finds whatever that thing’s pointing to.”
Gale snorted. “Deal. And when I win, I’m spending your money on drinks you’ll be too broke to refuse.”
Poqin shot him a side-eye. “You’re really betting for Luffy? The same guy who once got lost in a single hallway?”
“To be fair, that hallway did have two doors,” Gale said with a shrug. “Anyway, it’s not about faith in Luffy. It’s about believing in dumb luck.”
They followed him a bit farther, watching as Luffy trudged ahead, occasionally walking into low branches and swatting away bugs with exaggerated karate chops.
After about fifteen minutes of zig-zagging through the woods like he was being chased by invisible bees, he finally stopped in front of a massive tree. The kind with twisted roots, a thick trunk, and an aura of "buried plot-relevant object here."
Luffy’s eyes sparkled. “Jackpot.”
He knelt beside the tree, scanning the ground intensely. Then, he scratched his head and looked around. “Now I just need... something to dig with…”
There was a long beat of silence as the wind whispered through the leaves.
Poqin facepalmed. “This idiot came out treasure hunting without even bringing a shovel.”
“Honestly,” Gale said, crossing his arms, “I’m more surprised the airhead actually followed the map correctly. What are the odds?”
“Exactly why you’re an idiot for taking the bet,” Poqin muttered. “I swear, you’ve got Garp’s chaotic energy without the muscles.”
Gale just grinned. “Aw, don’t be salty, Scrooge McMonk. It's not like you have any money to be making bets in the first place... and even if I did lose, the money I gave you would have been spent on our drinks anyway...”
Poqin gave him the flat stare of a man whose wallet had already started weeping.
After a solid five minutes of watching Luffy violently jab a stick into the ground like it had insulted his mother, Gale finally spoke.
“Should we, uh… make our presence known?” he muttered, not taking his eyes off the increasingly tragic attempt at excavation.
Poqin gave him a side glance. “Are you suggesting we rob Vice Admiral Garp’s grandson?”
Gale blinked, eyes twitching like a man processing just how fast that escalated. “What—no! What kind of monk are you?!”
“The cool kind,” Poqin said with a straight face, then scratched his bald head like he was trying to dig for moral clarity. “Your fault for hanging out with a bad influence. My master said so.”
Gale groaned. “He was right. And I regret validating that opinion.” He watched Luffy furiously whacking the dirt like he was trying to start a fire. “Look, I just wanna get a closer look. See what’s actually buried there. That tree does scream ‘weird plot stuff.’”
“Fair enough,” Poqin shrugged. “But if we’re gonna be here all morning, we might as well help him dig. Otherwise, we’ll be watching this tragic performance until dinner.”
With that, the monk started casually walking toward Luffy like it was just another Tuesday. Gale followed, muttering to himself, “This better not be a dead bird or a moldy ham sandwich…”
As soon as their footsteps hit Luffy’s awareness bubble (which apparently only extended about ten feet), the Straw Hat snapped around. A guarded look washed over his face like they’d just asked him to share his fries.
“If there’s meat buried here, it’s mine!” he declared, pointing his stick at them like a sword. “All mine! I’m not sharing!”
Gale blinked. “Wait—meat? You think someone buried meat here?”
“With intention,” Luffy said seriously, eyes narrowed. “Because meat is a priceless treasure.”
There was a long silence. A bird chirped in the distance, possibly out of embarrassment.
Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even if someone was dumb enough to bury meat, it would’ve spoiled in, like, a day. Maybe less. This is East Blue, not a walk-in freezer.”
Luffy squinted at him. “You’re just trying to trick me… so you can steal the meat.”
That was the moment Gale’s left eye started twitching in earnest.
Poqin chuckled, all too amused by the chaos he no longer needed to create. “Yup. This guy’s a known con man. Can’t trust a word he says.”
“Excuse me?!” Gale snapped, rounding on him. “You’re the one who suggested robbing a kid!”
“A kid with a very scary grandpa,” Poqin added helpfully.
Gale sighed like a man wondering where his life took such a strange turn. Then, with mock sincerity, he raised one hand. “Fine. I solemnly swear that I won’t try to steal any food that may or may not be buried under this tree, no matter how deliciously fictional it may be.”
Luffy stared at him long and hard, weighing his soul with the intensity of a man who’d once punched a Sea King because it ate his lunch.
“…Alright,” he said finally, lowering his stick. “But if I see you drooling, I will kick you.”
Gale shot Poqin a glare. “This is your fault.”
“I’m not the one trying to steal ghost meat,” the monk replied with a smirk.
The three of them had been digging for a while now—Luffy with unhinged determination, Poqin with the quiet patience of a monk (who occasionally muttered about back pain), and Gale with the enthusiasm of someone regretting a life choice. Eventually, their efforts paid off.
With a final scrape of wood against dirt, Luffy let out a triumphant “HA!” and pulled free a small, dusty wooden chest. It was the kind of box you'd expect to contain old jewelry, forbidden secrets, or maybe a haunted doll if you were into that kind of thing.
But instead of cracking it open, Luffy just stared at it.
And then visibly deflated.
Like a sad balloon. A balloon that had dreams. And those dreams had just been crushed by the cruel, meatless reality of the world.
Gale raised an eyebrow, brushing sweat off his forehead. “What’s the matter, balloon boy?”
Luffy looked up with the tragic expression of someone who just found out there was no dessert. “I don’t smell any meat.”
Gale blinked. “…That’s it?”
“And even if there was meat,” Luffy went on mournfully, “it wouldn’t be much.” He poked the chest like it had personally betrayed him.
For once, Gale didn’t even have the strength to be sarcastic. The sheer sincerity in Luffy’s disappointment just… broke through the usual snark barrier.
“…Where did you even get that map?” he asked instead, crouching beside him.
Luffy perked up a little. “I found it in Dadan’s house!” he said, like that explained everything and also nothing at all.
Gale stared at him. “Wait. So… are you robbing Dadan?”
Luffy blinked. “What? No. Why would I rob Dadan?”
The fact that he said it so innocently only made it worse. Gale glanced at Poqin, whose expression hovered somewhere between “concerned guardian” and “processing a new level of idiocy.”
“Is he pretending to be this stupid, or…?” Poqin muttered under his breath.
Gale chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, he’s genuinely like this. It’s part of the brand. Comes with the hat.”
“Oi!” Luffy frowned. “I can hear you.”
“Good,” Gale said, nudging the chest with his boot. “Now open the thing already. Let’s see what’s worth burying in the dirt besides your expectations.”
Luffy pried the chest open, and they all leaned in to see.
Inside, there was no treasure, no mountain of meat, no forgotten Devil Fruit.
Just a small, worn scrapbook.
They stared in silence as Luffy gently pulled it out and opened the cover. The pages inside were filled with yellowing newspaper clippings—most of them about Ace.
Some were bounty posters, others were articles. Tucked between them were sketches—childish, rough, but filled with heart. Drawings of three boys: Luffy, Ace, and Sabo. Laughing. Fighting. Grinning like idiots with scraped knees and the whole world ahead of them.
Gale froze, the sarcasm catching in his throat. “She… did have a scrapbook after all,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Poqin peered over his shoulder, confused. “Wait, what is this? Some kind of memory box?”
Luffy didn’t say anything. He just smiled, soft and knowing. Like he’d already known what was inside before they even opened it. Like the map didn’t lead him to treasure or meat—it led him to something better.
Gale, for once, didn’t joke.
He just looked at Luffy, and then at the drawings, and felt something twist in his chest.
“…Huh.”
No punchline.
No quip.
Just a quiet moment in the forest with a buried box and three different people, brought together by one kid’s eternal quest for meat, and the precious memories of a woman who refused to be honest with her feelings.
