Roger had been in Konoha for exactly three days before he decided that he was bored out of his mind.
The apartment was fine. The food was adequate. The constant surveillance was annoying but manageable. But the sheer monotony of being a prisoner—even a well-treated one—was driving him insane.
He had spent the first day sleeping off the exhaustion of nearly being executed. The second day had been filled with interviews from Konoha's research teams, asking him endless questions about the Grand Line that he answered with a mix of actual One Piece knowledge and complete improvisation. The third day was more of the same, except now they were asking about navigation, weather patterns, and something called "the Calm Belt" that Roger had mentioned offhandedly and immediately regretted.
"So these 'Sea Kings,'" a researcher asked, adjusting his glasses, "you're saying they're massive creatures that inhabit the waters surrounding the Grand Line?"
"Massive is an understatement," Roger said, leaning back in his chair. "We're talking creatures the size of islands. They make your largest summons look like tadpoles."
The researcher wrote frantically.
"And they're... docile?"
"DOCILE?!" Roger laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. "They're MONSTERS. They'll eat a ship whole without even noticing. The only reason the Grand Line is accessible at all is because the Calm Belt—the waters that border it—are usually too still for ships to cross. No wind, no currents. Just you and a million Sea Kings waiting for lunch."
The researcher went pale.
"How... how does anyone survive?"
"They don't. Usually. That's why it's an adventure."
More frantic writing.
Roger was having far too much fun with this.
But by the afternoon of the third day, the fun had worn off. He was restless. He was confined. He was being treated like a specimen to be studied rather than a person.
And worst of all, he was missing everything.
Out there, in the world, people were becoming pirates. They were forming crews, building ships, chasing dreams. The era HE had started was happening WITHOUT him.
That was unacceptable.
"I need to get out of here," Roger muttered to himself, staring out the window at the ANBU stationed on the neighboring rooftop.
The question was: how?
He had no powers. He had no combat ability. He was surrounded by elite ninja who could kill him before he even realized they had moved.
But Roger had one advantage they didn't expect.
He was absolutely, completely, and utterly insane.
That night, Roger put his plan into action.
It wasn't much of a plan, really. It was more of a "do something stupid and see what happens" approach, which had served him surprisingly well so far.
Step one: Wait until midnight.
Step two: Set the apartment on fire.
The fire wasn't hard to start. Roger had been given candles for lighting—apparently Konoha didn't have electricity, which was inconvenient but also useful in this situation. A few overturned candles, some conveniently flammable curtains, and suddenly his apartment was producing a LOT of smoke.
"FIRE!" Roger screamed at the top of his lungs. "FIRE! SOMEONE HELP!"
The ANBU reacted immediately. Two of them burst through the door while the others moved to assess the situation from outside.
"Get him out!" one shouted. "The building is compromised!"
In the chaos of smoke and shouting and ninja trying to put out fires while also protecting their charge, Roger did something completely unexpected.
He ran straight into the fire.
The ANBU hesitated for just a moment—who runs INTO a fire?—and that moment was all Roger needed.
He had already memorized the layout of the building during his three days of boredom. There was a window on the far side of the apartment that led to an alley, and the fire had created a perfect smokescreen. The ninja couldn't see him, couldn't sense his chakra (because he didn't have any), and couldn't predict his movements (because they made no logical sense).
Roger burst through the window in a shower of glass and flames, his captain's coat singed but still intact.
"FREEDOM!" he bellowed as he fell.
He landed badly—of course he did, he wasn't a ninja—and felt something in his ankle twist painfully. But adrenaline was a wonderful thing, and Roger was already running before his brain caught up with his body.
Behind him, he could hear the ANBU shouting.
"HE'S ESCAPING!"
"HOW IS HE ESCAPING?! HE DOESN'T HAVE CHAKRA!"
"JUST CATCH HIM!"
Roger laughed as he ran.
This was EXACTLY what he wanted.
The chase through Konoha was, objectively speaking, ridiculous.
Roger had no enhanced speed, no ninja training, and a twisted ankle that was screaming at him with every step. The ANBU chasing him were some of the fastest, most skilled ninja in the village.
By all logic, he should have been caught within seconds.
But Roger had something they didn't: chaos.
He ran through crowded streets, knocking over vendor stalls and creating obstacles. He ducked through buildings, confusing his trail. He screamed random things at the top of his lungs, drawing attention and creating confusion.
"THE PIRATE KING IS FREE! ONE PIECE EXISTS! THE GRAND LINE AWAITS!"
People started cheering. Some started FOLLOWING him. Within minutes, Roger wasn't just running from the ANBU—he was leading a small parade of enthusiastic would-be pirates through the streets of Konoha.
"STOP THAT MAN!" an ANBU shouted.
"GO ROGER-SAMA!" someone in the crowd shouted back.
"THIS IS NOT HELPFUL!"
Roger cackled with glee.
The crowd was growing. People were pouring out of buildings, drawn by the commotion. Some were trying to help the ANBU, but more were helping Roger—or at least getting in the way.
It was beautiful chaos.
Roger ducked into an alley, losing the crowd momentarily. His ankle was throbbing, his lungs were burning, and he knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.
But he didn't need to.
Ahead of him was the wall. The massive wall that surrounded Konoha. And at the base of that wall was a gate—not the main gate, but a smaller service entrance used for waste disposal and other mundane purposes.
It was guarded, of course. Two chunin stood at attention.
Roger didn't slow down.
"MAKE WAY!" he bellowed. "THE PIRATE KING COMES THROUGH!"
The chunin stared at the large, mustachioed man sprinting toward them with a crowd of civilians and ANBU in pursuit.
"Should we—" one started.
Roger barreled into them like a bowling ball, knocking both guards aside through sheer momentum and desperation. He hit the gate, shoulder-first, and somehow—SOMEHOW—the ancient hinges gave way.
The gate burst open.
Roger stumbled through, barely staying on his feet.
He was outside the walls.
He was FREE.
"WAHAHAHAHA!" Roger laughed, tears streaming down his face from exertion and joy. "YOU CAN'T CATCH ME! I'M THE KING OF THE PIRATES!"
And then he kept running.
Into the forest. Into the darkness. Into freedom.
Behind him, the ANBU regrouped at the gate, staring at the destruction in disbelief.
"Did... did a man with no chakra just escape from the center of Konoha?"
"I don't... I don't know how to report this."
"The Hokage is going to kill us."
They weren't wrong.
Sarutobi Hiruzen stood in his office, staring at the report in his hands.
"He set his apartment on fire."
"Yes, Lord Hokage."
"He ran through the fire."
"Yes, Lord Hokage."
"He led a civilian parade through the village."
"Yes, Lord Hokage."
"He knocked down two chunin guards and broke through a gate with his SHOULDER."
"Yes, Lord Hokage."
Hiruzen set the report down slowly.
"And none of you caught him."
The ANBU captain kneeling before him seemed to shrink.
"He was... unpredictable, Lord Hokage. His movements made no tactical sense. Our training is designed to counter other ninja, not... whatever that was."
"Whatever that was," Hiruzen repeated flatly. "A civilian with no combat ability escaped from the heart of Konoha by being 'unpredictable.'"
"When you put it that way—"
"Get out."
The ANBU vanished.
Hiruzen sank into his chair and reached for his pipe. His hands were trembling slightly—from anger, from disbelief, from something else he couldn't quite identify.
The man called Roger had done the impossible. Again.
First the speech. Then surviving the execution. Now escaping from the most fortified ninja village in the world.
It was almost like the universe was conspiring to help him.
"Ridiculous," Hiruzen muttered. "Absolutely ridiculous."
But even as he said it, something nagged at the back of his mind. A memory. An old story. Something he hadn't thought about in decades.
He stood slowly, his old bones protesting, and walked to a bookshelf in the corner of his office. There, hidden behind more practical texts, was an ancient scroll—one of the few remaining records from before the founding of the hidden villages.
Hiruzen unrolled it carefully.
The scroll told of many things. The Sage of Six Paths. The Tailed Beasts. The origins of chakra.
But there was another story too. A smaller story, often overlooked, about a figure who predated even the Sage.
The Sun God Nika.
Hiruzen's eyes moved across the faded text.
"...a legendary warrior who brought laughter and freedom wherever he went. It was said that Nika could not be contained, could not be defeated, because his very existence defied the natural order. He was the embodiment of liberation, the enemy of all who sought to oppress..."
The scroll went on to describe Nika's abilities—stretching and contorting his body in impossible ways, transforming reality through sheer will, laughing in the face of death.
"...and though Nika was eventually sealed away by those who feared his power, the legends say that he will return. When the world is drowning in chains, when freedom is forgotten, the Sun God will rise again. And his laugh will shake the foundations of the earth."
Hiruzen stared at the scroll for a long moment.
Roger didn't have powers. He couldn't stretch. He couldn't transform reality.
But his laugh... his defiance... his ability to inspire freedom in others...
"No," Hiruzen said, shaking his head. "That's impossible. Nika is a myth. A children's story."
But the doubt remained.
He rolled up the scroll and returned it to its hiding place.
"I need to talk to the elders," he muttered. "They need to know about this."
If Roger was somehow connected to the Nika legend—even tangentially—then he was far more dangerous than anyone had realized.
And he was now loose in the world.
In a small room in the ANBU headquarters, Kakashi Hatake sat alone.
He had been assigned to watch Roger. He had failed.
The logical thing to do would be to join the search parties, to hunt down the escaped prisoner, to redeem himself in the eyes of the village.
But Kakashi wasn't moving.
He was thinking.
Roger's words kept echoing in his head. "You've got the eyes of someone who's forgotten how to dream."
It was such a strange thing to say. Dreams were for children. For civilians. For people who didn't understand the harsh realities of the shinobi world.
Kakashi had learned that lesson early. His father's suicide. Obito's death. Rin's death. Each loss had hammered home the same truth: dreams were meaningless. Only duty mattered. Only the mission.
But Roger didn't seem to care about duty. He didn't seem to care about missions or hierarchies or any of the structures that defined Kakashi's life. He just... laughed. And ran. And inspired people to do impossible things.
"Is being a shinobi really worth it?"
The question slipped out before Kakashi could stop it.
He froze.
Had he really just asked that? Had he really just questioned the foundation of his entire existence?
"No," he said firmly, trying to shake off the doubt. "Roger is a criminal. A madman. His ideology is dangerous."
But the doubt remained.
Because Roger had escaped. Roger had defied everything the shinobi system represented. And Roger was still laughing.
While Kakashi sat here, in the dark, wondering if any of it meant anything.
"Damn him," Kakashi muttered. "Damn him and his stupid mustache and his stupid speeches."
But even as he cursed, a small part of him—a part he had thought long dead—was curious.
What would it feel like to dream again?
The next morning, Hiruzen made an unexpected visit.
Naruto Uzumaki was eating his breakfast—instant ramen, as usual—when someone knocked on his door. This was already unusual. Nobody ever visited Naruto.
He opened the door cautiously.
And found the Third Hokage standing there.
"Old man?!" Naruto exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Hiruzen smiled gently.
"I came to check on you, Naruto. May I come in?"
Naruto stepped aside, confused but not unhappy. The Hokage was one of the few people who treated him kindly. His visits were rare but always welcome.
Hiruzen entered the small, messy apartment and looked around. His heart ached, as it always did, at the sight of how the boy lived. Alone. Neglected. Hated for something he had never chosen.
"Naruto," Hiruzen said, settling into a chair. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Is it about the pirate guy?" Naruto asked immediately, his eyes lighting up. "The one who gave the speech? Everyone's talking about him!"
Hiruzen's expression flickered.
"Yes, actually. That's part of why I'm here. I wanted to make sure you understood that man is dangerous. His ideas are—"
"AMAZING!" Naruto interrupted, practically bouncing. "He talked about treasure and freedom and dreams! He said anyone can chase their dreams if they're brave enough! He said ONE PIECE EXISTS!"
"Naruto—"
"I'm gonna find it, old man! I'm gonna find One Piece and become the Pirate King just like Roger-sama!"
Hiruzen felt his blood run cold.
"What did you just say?"
"I said I'm gonna be the Pirate King!" Naruto declared, striking a pose that was uncomfortably similar to Roger's. "I'm gonna leave Konoha and find the Grand Line and join Roger-sama's crew and have the greatest adventure ever!"
"Naruto, you can't just leave the village—"
"Why not? Nobody wants me here anyway!" Naruto's enthusiasm dimmed slightly, replaced by something harder. "Everyone looks at me like I'm a monster. They won't tell me why, but I know they hate me. So why should I stay? Why shouldn't I go find people who will actually accept me?"
Hiruzen was speechless.
He had known, of course, that Naruto was lonely. That the village's treatment of him was cruel and unjust. But he had hoped—naively, perhaps—that things would get better. That Naruto would eventually be accepted.
Now this stranger, this Roger, had offered the boy something Konoha never had: hope.
"Naruto," Hiruzen said slowly, "I know the village hasn't been kind to you. And I'm sorry for that. Truly. But leaving isn't the answer. You have potential here. You could become a great ninja, protect people, earn their respect—"
"I don't WANT their respect!" Naruto shouted. "They should respect me already! I haven't done anything wrong! But they treat me like garbage no matter what I do!"
Tears were forming in the boy's eyes.
"Roger-sama said dreams are worth chasing. He said freedom is the most important thing. He said—" Naruto's voice cracked. "He said that even if you die, if you lived freely, then your life meant something."
Hiruzen felt something break in his chest.
This was his fault. He had allowed the village to mistreat Naruto. He had kept the truth about the Nine-Tails hidden, thinking it would protect the boy. But all it had done was isolate him, confuse him, make him vulnerable to the first person who offered acceptance.
And that person had been Roger.
"Naruto," Hiruzen said gently, "if you leave now, I won't be able to protect you. The world outside is dangerous. There are people who would hurt you, use you, destroy you. At least here, you have some safety."
"I don't want safety!" Naruto declared. "I want to LIVE! I want to have adventures and find treasure and make friends who actually care about me! I want to be FREE!"
He looked at the Hokage with eyes that were far too old for a six-year-old.
"Can you give me that, old man? Can you make the village stop hating me? Can you give me a family, or friends, or anything that matters?"
Hiruzen couldn't answer.
Because the truth was, he couldn't. Not really. The village's hatred was too deeply rooted. The council's restrictions were too tight. Naruto was a prisoner here just as much as Roger had been.
Maybe more.
"I thought so," Naruto said quietly.
He turned away, looking out the window at the village that had never accepted him.
"I'm gonna find Roger-sama," he said. "I'm gonna join his crew. And I'm gonna become the Pirate King. That's my dream now."
Hiruzen stood slowly.
"I can't stop you from dreaming, Naruto. But I hope... I hope you'll give me a chance to make things right. To show you that Konoha can be your home."
Naruto didn't respond.
Hiruzen walked to the door, paused, and looked back.
"For what it's worth," he said, "I think you'd make a fine pirate king."
He left before Naruto could see the tears in his own eyes.
In the forest outside Konoha, Roger was finally taking a break.
He had run through the night, putting as much distance between himself and the village as possible. His ankle was swollen, his lungs were raw, and every muscle in his body was screaming for rest.
But he was laughing.
He couldn't stop laughing.
"I can't believe that WORKED!" he wheezed, leaning against a tree. "I set a building on fire and RAN! That was my plan! And it WORKED!"
He laughed until his sides hurt, until tears streamed down his face, until he could barely breathe.
"This world is INSANE! I love it! I absolutely LOVE IT!"
When the laughter finally subsided, Roger took stock of his situation.
He was free, which was good. But he was also alone, injured, and had no idea where to go, which was less good. The ANBU would be searching for him. Konoha would want him recaptured. He had no allies, no resources, no plan.
"Same situation as before," Roger mused. "Except now I'm a wanted criminal instead of just a random weirdo."
He thought about his options.
He could try to find his way to the coast, wherever that was. The Grand Line existed in this world, which meant there was an ocean somewhere. If he could reach it, he could... what, exactly? Build a ship? Find other pirates?
Actually, that didn't sound too bad.
"Goal number one," Roger said to himself. "Find the ocean. Goal number two: get a ship. Goal number three: reach the Grand Line. Goal number four..."
He grinned.
"Find out if One Piece actually exists."
It was a ridiculous plan. It had no details, no practical steps, no consideration for the many, many ways it could go wrong.
It was perfect.
Roger pushed himself to his feet, wincing at his ankle, and started walking.
Behind him, Konoha was in chaos. Ninja were searching. Politicians were panicking. Civilians were dreaming of treasure.
And somewhere in the village, a small blonde boy was staring out his window, making plans to chase his own impossible dream.
The Great Pirate Era had begun.
In the village of Konoha, the elders were gathering.
Koharu and Homura, the Hokage's oldest advisors, sat across from Hiruzen with grave expressions. Between them, on the table, was the ancient scroll about the Sun God Nika.
"You can't be serious," Koharu said flatly. "Nika is a myth. A fairy tale."
"I thought so too," Hiruzen replied. "But this man... Roger... he fits the description in ways that disturb me."
"He has no powers," Homura pointed out. "Nika was said to have abilities that defied reality. This Roger is just a madman with a talent for speeches."
"And yet he escaped from the heart of our village with nothing but chaos and audacity. He survived an execution. He's inspired hundreds—maybe thousands—of people to question everything they knew."
"Charisma is not a divine power."
"Perhaps not. But the effects are similar." Hiruzen leaned back, closing his eyes. "The Nika legend speaks of a liberator. Someone who appears when the world is drowning in oppression. Someone whose very presence inspires rebellion."
"And you think that's Roger?"
"I think... I don't know what I think. But I know we need to take this seriously. If there's even a chance that the Nika legend is more than myth, then Roger isn't just a criminal. He's a catalyst."
Koharu and Homura exchanged glances.
"What do you propose?" Koharu asked.
"First, we find him. But we don't kill him. Not yet. I want to understand what he is, where he came from, why he knows things he shouldn't know."
"And if he really is connected to Nika?"
Hiruzen opened his eyes.
"Then we're dealing with something far beyond our control. And we'll need to prepare accordingly."
The elders nodded grimly.
Outside the Hokage's office, the sun was setting over Konoha. But in the stories, in the legends, the Sun God never truly set.
He just waited for the right moment to rise again.
Deep in the forest, Roger paused and looked up at the darkening sky.
"You know," he said to no one in particular, "I have no idea what I'm doing."
He laughed.
"But when has that ever stopped me?"
He kept walking, humming a tune that didn't exist in this world yet.
Bink's Sake.
The song of pirates.
And somewhere, somehow, the world seemed to hum along with him.
END OF CHAPTER 3