Marine Ship, somewhere near Jaya – moments after the Knock Up Stream erupted
The sea still churned from the blast. Water rained down around the Marine vessel, and the crew scrambled to steady themselves. Smoker stood at the railing, his coat soaked, his cigars extinguished, his eyes fixed on the empty sky where the Dune Serpent and the Going Merry had vanished.
He had been close. So close. His smoke form had nearly reached Takuya's ship. But the ocean had other plans.
Takuya's voice still echoed in his ears: '"Too slow again, Smokey!"'
Smoker punched the railing, cracking the wood.
Tashigi approached cautiously, a fresh towel in her hands. "Captain... they're gone."
Smoker didn't answer. He just stared at the clouds.
Then he turned. "Send a team to Jaya. I want every scrap of information about that stream. Talk to locals. Fishermen. Anyone who's seen it before. I want to know how it works, when it happens, and where it leads."
Tashigi hesitated. "Sir, that could take hours—"
"We have hours. They're in the sky. We're not." He lit a fresh cigar. "Go."
Tashigi saluted and hurried off.
A few hours later
The sun had climbed higher. The Marine ship drifted near the coast of Jaya, its small boats returning from shore. Smoker stood at the chart table, waiting.
Tashigi approached, a stack of reports in her hands. Her expression was grim.
"Captain," she began, her voice hesitant, "the intelligence that came from Jaya is... concerning."
Smoker didn't turn. "Report."
Tashigi flipped through the pages. "The stream is called the Knock Up Stream. It's a vertical current so powerful it can launch a ship over seven thousand meters into the sky.
It only occurs about five times a month, and its location varies each time." She paused. "The person who could predict its timing and location... is Mont Blanc Cricket."
Smoker turned. "The descendant of Noland the Liar?"
"The same. He wanted to prove his ancestor wasn't a liar and so he dedicated his whole life in studying about it, and now he's the only one in Jaya that knows about Knock up stream. And according to witnesses, Cricket was seen heading toward the shore with the Straw Hats. There's a very high chance that he's with them. On the sky island."
Smoker's fists clenched. "They took the one man who knew how to navigate the stream."
Tashigi nodded grimly. "We're flying blind, sir."
Smoker was silent for a long moment. Then he exhaled, smoke curling from his lips.
"Gather the officers. We need to plan our next move."
The crew gathered on the deck. Smoker stood at the chart table, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Tashigi stood beside him, the stack of reports in her hands. The ensign, the lieutenant, and a handful of other officers crowded around.
"We need to follow them," Smoker said.
The ensign hesitated. "Sir, even if we found the stream, our ship isn't built for it. Reports indicate that vessels need special modifications—reinforced hulls—to survive the ascent. Most ships that attempt it are turned into wrecks."
The lieutenant nodded. "We'd need a shipwright. And we don't have one."
Tashigi adjusted her glasses. "Captain, there's also the chain of command. If we pursue them into uncharted territory—an area no Marine has ever officially entered—we'd be operating without authorization.
No debrief. No backup. No communication with Headquarters. If something goes wrong, no one would even know where to look for us. Not to forget the possible court martial after we come back. We all can be labelled as rogues as well."
The crew murmured.
A petty officer raised his hand. "Sir, what about the South Bird? Could we capture one to navigate?"
Tashigi shook her head. "Negative. The South Birds of Jaya are hostile. They control swarms of insects. And even if we caught one, it wouldn't tell us the timing of the stream. That knowledge went with Mont Blanc Cricket."
A marine soldier ran up, saluting. "Sir! A local report confirms Cricket was seen boarding the pirates' ship. He hasn't returned yet, his house is empty, his two associates haven't returned to the house as well."
Smoker's eye twitched. "Then we're at a dead end."
Tashigi took off her glasses and cleaned them slowly. "Captain, perhaps we need to change our approach. Instead of chasing them into the unknown, we wait for them to come down."
"Explain."
"If the legends are true—and I stress legends—the Knock Up Stream leads to some kind of white sea of clouds. Ships can travel there. But eventually, they have to descend."
She paused. "We don't know where. But we can make educated guesses based on wind patterns and currents. We position the ship at the most likely landing zone and wait."
The ensign nodded. "It's a gamble, but it's better than chasing ghosts."
Smoker stared at the map. "And if we're wrong? If they land somewhere else?"
"Then we regroup and try again, after all Takuya has a reputation of causing chaos everywhere he goes, we'll automatically know where he is as soon as they land down."
Tashigi said. "But chasing them into the sky with no information, no backup, and no guarantee of survival—that's not strategy. That's suicide."
She met his eyes. "Captain, I know you want to catch him. I want to catch him too." Her voice tightened. "That man is a menace. A walking, grinning, cookie-peddling menace. Forgive my language, but he's a pain in the ass—and I don't say that lightly."
She clenched the reports in her hands.
"I still remember the humiliation our soldiers endured because of him. The chaos in Alabasta. The way he walked out of Marine custody like it was a joke. The way he throws cookies at us like we're beggars." Her jaw tightened. "He makes fools of us. Every. Single. Time."
She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down.
"But we can't risk the entire crew on a fairy tale. Let's be smart about this. Let's be patient."
Her eyes were still burning, but her voice was steady now.
Smoker looked at her. He had never seen her this angry before.
"...Noted," he said quietly.
He was silent for a long moment. The crew watched him, waiting.
Finally, he exhaled. "Plot a course for the most likely landing zone. We wait. We watch. And when they come down..."
He looked up at the sky. He didn't move. He stood at the railing, staring at the clouds, his hands clenched at his sides.
"We'll be there." He had failed once. He wouldn't fail again.
Tashigi nodded and turned to the navigator. The crew dispersed, murmuring among themselves.
But as she walked away, her heart was pounding—not from the argument, but from the secret she was carrying.
---
Flashback – Earlier that morning, inside her quarters
After the chaos of the cookie attack, Tashigi had retreated to her small cabin. The pouch was still hidden in her blouse, warm against her skin. She had locked the door, drawn the curtain, and carefully untied the string.
Inside were cookies—tangerine, the same as before. But beneath them, folded neatly, was a small piece of parchment.
She unfolded it. The handwriting was tiny, precise, unmistakably his.
"Tashigi.
Don't pursue us into the sky. You'll end up with more dead bodies than living souls. Coax Smoker. Make him believe that chasing us is suicide—because it is.
I'm telling you this because your swordsmanship won't save you when you fall from seven thousand meters. Smoker won't be able to protect all of you. Even if he saves some, there will be casualties. Many casualties. And I know you'll blame yourself for their deaths.
I'm only warning you this once. Don't follow. I won't be responsible if Smoker acts reckless.
—T"
She had read the note three times. Her hands trembled. Not from fear—from something else. Something she didn't want to name.
'He could have said nothing. He could have let us chase him to our deaths. But he didn't.'
She pressed the note to her chest.
'He warned me. Because he knew I would be the one to convince Smoker. Because he knew... I would listen. Because he knew that I would put all the blame on myself even if one of our men died. He knows my swordsman pride would kill me from inside.'
She had burned the note over a candle flame, watching the paper curl and blacken. The words disappeared into ash. But they stayed in her mind.
'He cares. In his own twisted, cookie-dealing, smug way... he cares.'
She pressed her palm against the pouch, still hidden beneath her blouse.
'It's been so long since someone cared for me like that. Not since...'
---
Flashback – A memory she rarely visited
She was young. Seven, maybe eight. Her father's hands were rough but gentle as he taught her to hold a wooden sword. Her mother laughed from the doorway, a bandage on her own arm—she had been a Marine too, before retirement.
"Keep your feet planted, Tashigi. A swordsman's strength starts from the ground."
She remembered the warmth of their home. The smell of her mother's cooking. The way her father would ruffle her hair after a successful training session.
Then the cannon fire.
A pirate raid. A crossfire between outlaws and the Marines who had come to stop them. Her parents had tried to shield her. They had died in that chaos—not as heroes, but as collateral. Bodies caught between two sides that didn't care who they crushed.
Tashigi had survived because a Marine soldier pulled her from the rubble. She was too young to understand death. But she understood blame.
She blamed pirates.
She blamed the sea.
She blamed herself for not being strong enough to protect them.
That was why she joined the Marines. To become strong. To protect others. To make sure no child had to watch their parents fall to senseless violence.
'End flashback
She blinked, the memory fading. The deck of the Marine ship swayed beneath her feet. Smoker was still at the railing, staring at the sky.
Takuya was a pirate. By all logic, she should hate him.
But he had warned her. He had given her a way out. He had thought about 'her' safety—not as a Marine, not as a tool, but as a person.
'Maybe... not all pirates are the same.'
She shook her head and returned to her navigation charts. There would be time for questions later.
For now, she had a job to do.
Tashigi walked to the navigation table, her face calm, her hands steady. Inside, her chest was tight.
'I did it. He bought it.'
She looked out at the horizon—the empty sky where Takuya had vanished.
'You warned me. You protected me. Even from up there.'
She touched her blouse, where the empty pouch still rested.
'Thank you.'
She pulled out her compass and began calculating the landing zone coordinates. Her hands didn't shake. Her voice was clear when she gave orders.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
She wasn't just following Smoker's orders anymore.
She was keeping her promise to a man she shouldn't trust—but somehow, against all logic, did.
The sea churned below. The sky was empty above.
And somewhere in the white expanse, a man in a cloak was laughing.
The white cloud ground felt spongy beneath their feet. Masira stomped heavily, leaving deep impressions, his mouth agape. Shoujou stood frozen, his massive frame trembling.
Cricket didn't move. He stood at the edge of the cloud shore, staring at the impossible vista before him—the towering beanstalk, the lush jungle of Upper Yard in the distance, and the faint, glimmering outline of what could only be ancient ruins.
His pipe had fallen from his mouth.
"We're here," he whispered. "We're actually here."
Masira ran in a circle, kicking up puffs of cloud. "Boss! Boss! This is real! The sky island is real!"
Shoujou's deep voice boomed, echoing across the white expanse. "NOLAND WASN'T A LIAR! THE CITY OF GOLD EXISTS!"
Cricket slowly lowered himself to his knees. He pressed his palms against the cloud ground, feeling its strange, solid texture. Four hundred years of ridicule. Four hundred years of his family being called liars. Four hundred years of doubt.
And now... this.
"My ancestor," Cricket said, his voice cracking, "saw this. He stood where I'm standing. He touched these clouds. And no one believed him."
Masira stopped running and looked at his boss with wide eyes.
Cricket's shoulders shook. Not from cold. From something else. "He was right. He was always right. And I—" He laughed—a broken, joyful sound. "I spent my whole life diving into the ocean, looking for proof, when the proof was up here the whole time."
Shoujou knelt beside him, placing a heavy hand on Cricket's shoulder. "You found it, boss. You found it."
Cricket looked up at the sky—the real sky, deeper and bluer than anything below. "No. They found it." He glanced toward the Dune Serpent, where Takuya was helping his women onto the shore. "I just... followed."
Masira scratched his head. "So... does this mean we're rich?"
Cricket laughed again, louder this time. "Masira, we're standing on a cloud in the middle of the sky. The gold can wait."
"Can it, though?" Masira's eyes were already scanning the horizon.
Shoujou boomed, "We should build a monument! A giant statue of Noland pointing at the sky!"
Cricket stood up, brushing off his knees. His eyes were wet, but he was smiling—a real smile, one his crew had never seen before.
"A bell," he said quietly. "My ancestor rang a bell. I want to hear it."
Masira and Shoujou exchanged glances. Then they grinned.
"Then let's find that bell, boss!" Masira shouted.
Shoujou nodded, his massive form already moving toward the jungle. "I'll use my sonar! Nothing escapes my ears!"
Cricket watched them go, then turned back to the cloud shore. The wind was warm. The sky was endless. And for the first time in four hundred years, a Noland stood where he belonged.
—
High above Angel Beach, on a small floating island, an old man sat on a cloud sofa. His white hair was tied in a ponytail. His blue cape billowed in the wind. His lance rested against the armrest.
His name was Gan Fall. Former God of Skypiea. Knight of the Sky. Protector of the innocent. Savior of the helpless.
And he was bored out of his mind.
Pierre, his loyal bird-horse hybrid, stood beside him, munching on a cloud apple. Pierre had eaten the Uma Uma no Mi, allowing him to transform into a pegasus or a full horse at will. Currently, he was in horse form, because Gan Fall had insisted it looked more "dramatic."
"Pierre," Gan Fall said, stroking his chin, "do you feel it?"
Pierre stopped chewing. He looked at his master with one large, questioning eye.
"A disturbance," Gan Fall continued. "A shift in the balance of the sky."
Pierre snorted.
"No, I'm not imagining it." Gan Fall stood up, placing his hands on his hips. "For years, I have watched over this land. I have protected the innocent. I have fought against the tyranny of false gods." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But lately... I feel... unnecessary."
Pierre tilted his head.
"Look down there." Gan Fall pointed toward the beach, where a group of Blue Sea dwellers were already exploring. "They arrived hours ago. And they haven't needed me once."
Pierre whinnied softly.
"Exactly! Not once! No one has been kidnapped. No one has been struck by lightning. No one has even asked for directions!" Gan Fall's voice rose. "I am the Knight of the Sky! I am supposed to swoop in on my majestic steed and save the day!"
Pierre transformed into his pegasus form, flapping his wings majestically.
"Yes, yes, you look very dramatic. But there's no one to save!"
Gan Fall paced back and forth, his cape swirling. "What if they don't need me? What if the sky has become... peaceful?" He gasped. "What if I've become... irrelevant?"
Pierre nudged his master's shoulder with his nose.
"You're right. I'm being dramatic." Gan Fall sighed. "But still. A man likes to feel useful."
He sat back down on the cloud sofa, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Pierre transformed back into a horse and resumed eating his apple.
Below them, on the beach, Mira was trying to teach the south bird to dance. The bird was pecking her relentlessly. Luffy was trying to eat a cloud.
No one was in danger. No one needed saving.
Gan Fall watched it all with a mixture of relief and existential dread.
"Pierre," he said finally, "I think I'm having a midlife crisis."
Pierre whinnied. It sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"Shut up."
Pierre did not shut up.
A/N: If my story made you smile even once, that's a win for me. That's what I want to live for—brightening dull days and reminding people that joy still exists. My dream is to make a difference in someone's life through my stories, to someday reach a legendary level of storytelling, and spread as much happiness I can in this world, before I take my leave from this world.
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