The salty sea breeze swept across the harbor. A portal of light opened, and Reed and Kozuki Toki stepped through, landing on the sandy beach. Reed stood on the unfamiliar street, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings. Though much time had passed on this small island, certain corners still felt oddly familiar.
Reed asked Toki, "How does this period feel to you?"
"I don't feel anything in particular. The life energy drains slower than what you provide," Toki replied, closing her eyes to sense the subtle flow.
"It's been so long… I'm not sure I even remember," Reed murmured, his fingers gently brushing the edge of his cloak. "If I recall correctly, there should be a tavern at the end of this street."
Toki tilted her head slightly, looking at him. "You remember?"
"Hm," Reed nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He teased lightly, "We spent over a year docked here once. Roger always said the liquor on this island was the strongest on the Grand Line. Clearly, Roger hadn't tasted much good wine."
He stepped forward, his pace unconsciously quickening, driven by a long-lost sense of nostalgia.
The shops lining the street were both familiar and strangely different from Reed's memories.
Finally, they stopped in front of a tavern with a wooden sign. The paint was chipped, but the words "Old Whale" were still faintly visible. Reed stared at the sign, his eyes distant.
"This is it," he whispered.
Outside the tavern, the night wind stirred the petals on the eaves. Toki, wearing a black cloak, gently pressed down the strands of hair blown by the wind and turned to look at Reed—the man who had returned from the future, weathered and experienced.
Reed didn't immediately step inside. Instead, he lingered at the doorway, listening. Through the window, he could see what was happening inside.
The tavern was bright, filled with raucous noise that seemed about to lift the roof off. Roger held a bucket of malt liquor in one hand while wrestling with Reed over the last golden, juicy roasted pork leg. The two bickered like children, drawing laughter from the crew.
"You little brat! That meat is mine!" Roger grinned, his straw hat crooked, his foot stealthily nudging Reed's leg.
Let's see young Reed; he wouldn't back down.
"Captain, don't you know to respect your elders and care for your juniors?" sixteen-year-old Reed said, gripping the bone tightly. Blood mist silently coiled around Roger's wrist. Clearly, Reed had begun using underhanded tactics too.
In the end, both idiots went all out and tumbled to the ground. The meat flew into the air and was caught by Rayleigh. Rayleigh took a bite and glanced at the two still wriggling on the floor. Roger pulled at Reed's hair while Reed tugged at Roger's nose hair. They rolled around, entangled and inseparable for a moment.
Rayleigh sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Those two idiots…"
Reed's gaze slipped through the window, falling on the boy fighting Roger for the meat. The boy laughed recklessly, leaning the massive Black Tide sword casually against the table.
"That's… me in the past?" Toki asked softly.
Reed nodded. "Why does looking back at myself then feel so unreliable? I thought I was composed back then." He unconsciously traced the scars hidden beneath his cloak—the marks left by countless life-or-death battles of the future.
"You bastard captain! You broke my hair! Hair can grow back, but if I snap your nose hair, your nose will look crooked. Nose hair is hard to manage, you know!"
"You little brat! You dare threaten me so viciously."
"Ha ha, Roger, you wouldn't want anything to happen to your beard, right? I'm the future's great pirate, 'Crimson Mist!'"
A cheer erupted from the tavern: young Reed shouting, "I won!" followed by Roger's exaggerated wails and Jabra's laughter.
Reed's face went blank. "How could I have been so proud to shout that ridiculous title? What was I thinking? This is so strange, so strange! It feels like scrolling through my QQ space from over ten years ago, even the old intro song 'I love you~ love comes to you~ love me love you~' still playing."
Toki watched Reed's Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
"Do you want to see them?" she asked.
The blood mist churned in Reed's palm, then calmed. Finally, he shook his head. "Let's wait a little longer."
The tavern door suddenly burst open. Young Reed rushed out holding the stolen meat, nearly colliding with the two cloaked figures. He stopped abruptly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Who are you…?"
Future Reed pulled his hood down, a wolf-tooth mask covering his face.
Toki stepped forward slightly, wearing a grotesque mask. Her voice, filtered through the mist, sounded soft yet completely unlike her usual tone. "Just travelers passing through. Little brother, what are you celebrating?"
"Of course, celebrating getting rid of that old Marine Garp!" the young boy puffed out his chest, squinting suspiciously. "Wait… your voice sounds familiar…"
"Reed! The meat's getting cold!" Roger's voice called from inside the tavern.
The boy hesitated, but the temptation of food was too strong. He turned and ran back toward the light.
Reed cursed young Reed silently. "Hey! You should ask more questions! You're so unreliable! Hey!"
Just as he was about to enter, the boy shouted, "Anyone who hasn't eaten yet, come in! We're throwing a feast! Come on! Pirates can't throw a feast any other way!"
As the wooden door closed, Toki heard a faint, gentle sigh from beside her, as if squeezed from the depths of time.
The door creaked open again, and the tavern's noise poured out like a tide. Under the warm lights, young Reed held up the roasted meat, excitedly announcing, "Hey! New friends have joined the feast!"
Roger was the first to jump from his seat, his straw hat nearly slipping off. "Ha ha ha! Welcome, welcome! The more pirates, the merrier!" He strode over, warmly draping his arm over future Reed's shoulders. "Come on, have a drink first!"
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses, his gaze lingering on the two cloaked strangers. Jabra had already poured two glasses of rum, grinning as he offered them. "Try this, it's top-quality liquor we just… borrowed from the Marines."
Future Reed's fingers trembled slightly. He lifted the cup, and beneath the mask, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl upward. Thirteen years of memories seemed to converge in this moment—the taste, the scene, every laughing face.
"Hey, why are you still wearing masks?" young Reed asked curiously, leaning closer. Blood mist played around his fingertips. "You're not some secret visiting pirates, are you? Don't worry, I'm the future great pirate, 'Crimson Mist' Reed!"
"You brat, don't be so rude," Rayleigh gently reprimanded, though a faint smile played in his eyes.