Summer Island.
The golden sun dipped low toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the beach. Waves lapped gently against the sand, and the air still held the heavy warmth of the day.
Near the shoreline, a man knelt beside a half-repaired ship, his hands stained with oil and wood shavings. That man was Hibari.
"Fortunately, the ship wasn't too damaged," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. "Another day or two, and she'll be seaworthy again."
He was adjusting the fractured railing when footsteps crunched over the sand behind him. Turning slightly, he saw Gin, Miria, Vivi, and Ussop making their way back from the island's interior.
Hibari stood and dusted himself off. "So? Any luck with the search?"
Gin shook his head, visibly frustrated. "Nothing. No signs of them."
"I didn't find anyone either," Miria added, brushing leaves from her coat. "I'll head out again at first light."
Vivi sighed, her face drawn with worry. "This island is bigger than it looks. We've barely covered a fraction of it."
Ussop rubbed the back of his neck. "We agreed to return before dark, but it feels like we missed something."
The group fell into silence as the sun finally sank below the horizon. Night came swiftly. Stars began to pierce the sky, and the chirp of distant insects replaced the wind's soft whisper.
Back at the shore, they made camp beside the ship. A small fire crackled in a ring of stones. Miria prepared a simple stew with whatever supplies remained in the galley—mostly root vegetables and preserved fish. The crew gathered around, bowls in hand, but the mood was somber. The warmth of the food did little to lift their spirits.
"I didn't see a single person during my sweep," Gin said, breaking the silence.
"Do you think this is an uninhabited island?" Ussop asked, glancing into the surrounding trees.
Miria shook her head. "No. I saw signs of life—ashes from a campfire, even footprints. Someone's here."
"I saw some makeshift traps in the forest," Vivi added, pointing inland. "They were old… but definitely used for hunting."
"Then why does it feel so quiet?" Hibari asked. "Like the island is watching us, but refusing to speak."
No one had an answer.
Once dinner was done, they agreed to sleep early and rise with the sun. The faster they searched, the better chance they had of finding their scattered crewmates. One by one, they slipped into their makeshift tents or blankets near the fire.
Gin, ever vigilant, volunteered for the first watch. He sat beside the fire, arms resting on his knees, his eyes scanning the shadows. The gentle crackle of flames was the only sound accompanying him. Yet… something felt off.
A twinge crawled up his spine.
He glanced toward the trees. Nothing but darkness.
But his instincts were sharp. Trained. Something, or someone was there. His hand subtly moved to the grab his tonfa as he kept his breathing calm.
In the dense foliage beyond the flickering firelight, two pairs of eyes peered out from the brush. Small. Wary. Unblinking. Whoever they were, they didn't approach… only watched. Quiet. Curious.
And then, just as silently, they vanished back into the night.
Gin narrowed his eyes but said nothing.
Tomorrow, they'd search again.
But now he knew, this island wasn't as empty as it seemed.
...
Autumn Island.
The golden hue of the setting sun bathed the forest in an amber glow. Dry leaves crunched underfoot with each step, scattering like brittle paper in the gentle breeze. Autumn Island, a land caught in eternal fall, was a place of tranquil beauty—calm winds, rustling branches, orange foliage, and a rich, earthy scent that lingered in the crisp air.
Four silhouettes moved slowly through the undergrowth, their forms half-shrouded by long shadows stretching from towering maple trees. Their movements, though steady, were weary.
Sanji, Alvida, Nojiko, and Karoo had been wandering the island since they were swept ashore by the mysterious storm. So far, they had found no trace of the rest of their crew, nor any sign of life beyond trees, fallen leaves, and silence.
Sanji wiped the sweat from his brow with a dramatic sigh. "We've been walking for hours."
"I wouldn't be this tired if someone didn't keep stopping to sniff stew smoke that doesn't exist," Alvida snapped, resting her iron mace against her shoulder.
Sanji shot her a sideways glance. "Alvida-san, I'm telling you, I *did* smell cinnamon earlier. Someone's cooking out here."
"It *did* smell like cinnamon," Nojiko admitted, glancing around. Her senses were sharper than most, and she wasn't one to doubt a gut feeling. "We're definitely close to something."
*Grumble!*
A chorus of stomach growls echoed from the group—loud, painful, and in perfect sync.
They had been searching since sunrise without food or rest. Karoo's stomach let out the loudest complaint, and the duck dramatically flopped onto the ground before perking up again, sniffing the air.
Suddenly, *Quack!*
Karoo spotted a large, ripe pumpkin hidden beneath some brush and bolted forward with surprising energy. He leapt into the patch but promptly got tangled in a mess of dried vines and stubborn roots, thrashing and flapping as he struggled.
"Karoo!" Sanji rushed forward, helping untangle the frantic duck from the vines. As he did, a distinct aroma caught his nose—roasted vegetables mixed with the faint scent of heated metal and machine oil.
His eyes lit up. He sniffed again, then pointed through the trees. "That way! I'm telling you, someone's definitely cooking!"
The group pushed through the tall grass and emerged into a wide clearing—what they saw made them all stop in their tracks.
A strange structure stood before them, part barn, part scrapyard. Wind turbines spun slowly in the breeze, steam hissed from coiled pipes, and scattered around the field were mechanical scarecrows, walking on rickety legs, their eyes glowing dimly as they patrolled rows of odd-looking crops.
"...Well, that's not something you see every day," Nojiko murmured.
From inside the barn, loud banging echoed—metal striking metal in a furious rhythm.
Sanji stepped up to the half-open door and gave it a solid knock. "Hello?! Anyone in there?"
CLANG!
A wrench flew straight at him.
He barely ducked in time. "Whoa—!"
*Thunk!*
The wrench smacked Karoo squarely on the head.
"QUACK!"
"Karoo!" Nojiko rushed to comfort the poor duck, who now had a bump swelling on his head.
"W-Who's there?!" a startled voice called out from within.
A moment later, a boy no older than seventeen popped up from behind a rusted machine. His hair was wild, goggles pushed up onto his forehead, and he wore a grease-streaked apron over patched-up overalls. His eyes went wide when he saw the group.
"Ah crap, I didn't mean to—wait…" He squinted. "You're not from the village... Are you the pirates pretending to be Marines?! Are you here for the Autumn Core?!"
Sanji blinked. "Autumn what now?"
"Easy, kid," Alvida stepped forward with her hands raised. "We're not here to steal anything. We're not with whoever you think we are."
The boy grabbed another wrench, pointing it like a weapon. "That's what those other guys said last week! Then they tried to take my designs!"
*Bonk!*
"Ow! What was that for?!" the boy yelped, clutching the growing bump on his head.
Behind him stood a broad-shouldered middle-aged man, arms crossed and scowling. "How many times do I have to tell you not to be rude to strangers? Are you even listening, you little brat?"
"But Dad!" the boy protested, rubbing his head. "These people are *outsiders*! They could be dangerous!"
"That doesn't matter!" his father snapped. "You treat people with respect first. And what are you even doing here? I told you to help out on the farm, not tinker around in this rusty junkyard!"
"Uh... I was just... grabbing some tools?" the boy offered weakly, flashing a nervous grin.
His father's stern gaze narrowed.
"Right! I'll get back to the fields now!" the boy blurted and turned on his heel, dashing toward the farmland with oil-stained sleeves flapping behind him.
The man sighed heavily, watching his son disappear into the trees. "Tch. That brat... Always hiding in this pile of scrap. He's got his mother's stubbornness."
He turned toward the group, his expression shifting into something more neutral—tired, but courteous. "Apologies for my son's behavior. He gets... passionate. But to be fair, there's some truth to his suspicion. So, tell me straight—are you who he says you are?"
Alvida took the lead to explain. "We're not here to cause trouble. Just a group of adventurers. Our ship got swept up in a strange storm. When we woke up, we were scattered. Now we're looking for our missing crew."
The man's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "A storm, huh? That's not unusual in these parts. Autumn winds bring chaos when they feel like it."
Nojiko chimed in, hopeful. "Have you seen anyone else around here lately? Maybe within the last few hours?"
The man shook his head. "No strangers today. Just the usual folk from the village." He paused. "Did you check along the shoreline?"
Sanji nodded. "We searched a stretch about a kilometer or two from where we washed ashore. Didn't find anyone."
"Hm," The man grunted, rubbing his chin. "The coastline stretches a long way. If your friends landed farther down, it might take days to find them on foot."
Silence settled over the group as the weight of that realization sank in.
*Grrrrrrrgle!*
A collective stomach grumble broke the tension. Sanji, Nojiko, and even Alvida looked mildly embarrassed. Karoo, on the other hand, looked anything but shy—his wings flailed, and he stepped forward eagerly.
The middle aged man raised a brow, watching the duck.
"Looks like you folks are hungry," he said with a chuckle.
Nojiko gave a sheepish smile. "We haven't eaten all day…"
"Quack!" Karoo waddled up to the farmer, flapping his wings and nodding.
The farmer blinked. "You… asking for food?"
"Quack! Quack-quack!"
"Oh, I see. Been searching since morning, huh?"
"Quaaack! Quack quack quack!"
The man chuckled and crossed his arms. "Alright, alright. I get it. And it's getting dark anyway."
He waved a hand toward the field path. "Why don't you stay at my house for the night? It's not much, but the hearth's warm and the food's filling."
"Quack-quack?!" Karoo tilted his head, almost in disbelief.
"Yes, really. It's no trouble," The farmer said warmly. "We've got a big pot of stew cooking. You're welcome to share. It'll be good for you to taste some of our local Autumn harvest."
"QUACK!" Karoo gave a loud, happy flap of his wings and immediately waddled after the farmer, full of enthusiasm.
The man laughed. "Haha! Now *that's* a polite guest!"
"Quack. Quack Quack."
"Oh your name is Karoo? Good name." Nodded the man. "I'm Harbin. Nice to meet you Karoo."
"Quack Quack."
The man and the duck exchange a hand shake...more like hand shaking a duck wing.
As the two headed away, and disappeared up the trail, the rest of the group stood frozen for a moment.
"…Did that duck just have a full conversation with him?" Sanji asked, blinking.
Alvida with mace still on her shoulder, squinting. "I'm not sure what's more surprising—that he understood, or that Karoo *explained* our entire day."
"Some people just have that gift," Nojiko mused with a small smile. "Maybe he's a duck whisperer."
Sanji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "At least we're finally getting a meal."
They hurried to catch up, following the path lit faintly by the orange glow of the setting sun and the warm scent of roasted vegetables on the breeze.