Monkey D Garp looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully in his arms, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He couldn't help but reach out with a calloused finger to lightly tap her little button nose. The touch was feather-light, almost reverent, as though he feared she might vanish like a dream. A soft breath escaped her lips in response, but she didn't stir.
Garp's hand drifted upward, brushing over the soft tuft of blond hair atop her head. It was barely long enough to curl, but enough to make his fingers linger.
His gaze lingered longer on the three thin whisker-like lines etched into each of her plump, rosy cheeks. His brows furrowed.
"You said this child was born on the tenth of October?" he asked quietly, his voice unusually subdued as he continued to gaze down at the infant.
Beside him, Dragon, his son, nodded slowly. There was a softness in his expression that was rarely seen. His usual stern demeanor replaced by something gentler, more vulnerable. He kept his eyes on the baby as he answered, "Yes."
Garp's gaze sharpened. A faint glint passed through his eyes. "…That was the day Roger was executed."
Silence fell between them. A heavy silent that was filled with things neither man wanted to say aloud.
After a long moment, Dragon spoke again, voice low. "Dad, I only want Naru to grow up well… and healthy."
Garp snorted under his breath. He wanted to laugh, or yell, or both, but with the sleeping baby nestled securely in his arms, he held back. His voice came out as a grumble instead. "Then why don't you raise your own damn brat?"
"Raising her with my current condition? You know it's impossible," Dragon replied with a sigh, his tone tinged with frustration, though not directed at Garp. His fists were clenched slightly at his sides, knuckles paling under the strain. "You know what I'm involved in. She won't be safe with me."
"And you think I've got a whole lotta free time to babysit now?" Garp rolled his eyes, exaggerating the motion as he adjusted his hold on the child. "I'm still a Vice Admiral. My life isn't exactly made for diaper changing and lullabies."
"She'll be safer with you," Dragon said again, this time more firmly. His eyes met his father's, the rare steel in his voice not from arrogance, but desperation.
Garp knew that his son was right. With their situation, the baby would at least be safer with him than being with her blasted father.
But still…
"I'm not gonna stay holed up on this island for years just to raise a damn baby," he said with a scowl, though the way he gently shifted Naru in his arms betrayed the affection growing in him already. "Sengoku would throw a damn fit if I asked for another long break. Bastard can't even give me a week off without calling me back."
Dragon frowned. "Then… are you planning to take her back to that place?"
Garp's eyes narrowed. "Have you gone stupid since you started leading your little club? Why the hell would I drag a baby into the Grand Line?"
Dragon blinked, confused. "Then where—?"
"We've got Dadan here, don't we?" Garp cut in, raising an eyebrow like the answer was obvious.
At that name, Dragon's brow furrowed as a half-forgotten image surfaced.
A tall, muscular woman with long, unruly orange curls and a temper as wild as her fists. They'd known each other since childhood, growing up on this island before parting ways. It had been years, more than a decade, since he had last seen her.
"She's here?"
"Apparently, she is now a leader of a small bandit gang and is now squatting at Mount Colubo with her little crew," Garp muttered with a huff. "Guess it's time I paid her a little visit and gave her a lecture about justice and laws."
"…Oh." The picture was coming together in Dragon's head now. "So you're planning to leave Naru with her?"
"Who else can I trust here with my grandchild? Clearly not you." Garp's tone was firm as he stepped toward the old crib resting against the wall.
The crib was old, very old but still very sturdy. It was carved from thick, high-quality wood, polished smooth through years of use. Garp himself had built it, way back when he was still young, back when he still had a wife and a small boy who used to fit snugly in it, though that small boy was now an infuriating criminal. Time might've passed, but the crib remained a symbol of simpler days that lived only in the quiet corners of this house.
Carefully, Garp bent down and laid the baby inside. The motion was slow, almost ceremonial, as if he were laying down something sacred. Naru stirred only slightly, her tiny fingers twitching before she settled again, as if the crib remembered her.
Garp said nothing. His eyes lingered on the crib longer than necessary. He'd never admit it aloud, but every time he returned to this old house, he would maintain it by cleaning dust, fixing shelves, checking for rot. A ritual. A way to hold on to what was gone.
Finally, his gaze shifted back to Dragon. "…What about your woman?"
Dragon stiffened, guilt flashing across his face. His eyes darted away. "…Her circumstances aren't… suitable for raising a child."
Garp snorted loudly this time, unrestrained. "Tch."
He did not say anything else. He did not need to. The silence said enough.
.
.
.
Three years later.
A soft stillness filled the modest wooden room, broken only by the rustle of paper and the voice of a little girl.
Sitting cross-legged on the worn floorboards, Naru balanced a thick, time-worn book in her lap. Her small fingers gripped the pages with practiced care, bright blue eyes scanning each line with an intensity far beyond her years.
"East Blue is one of the four seas…" she murmured aloud, her tone light and sweet but confident. Far too confident for a child barely three years old.
The words rolled off her tongue with crisp precision. Despite the youthful cadence of her voice, her intellect shone through. It was a surreal sight.
A tiny girl dwarfed by a massive book, reading words most children her age could not even pronounce, let alone understand.
But Naru was not like other children.
She was Garp's granddaughter.
And even more than that, she was different. She was not an ordinary brat.
At three, she already spoke fluently, her speech always unnaturally formal and articulate. She never lisped or babbled. No mispronunciations. No silly baby talk. Just complete, crisp sentences delivered with unwavering clarity.
It baffled those around her.
But Naru had her reasons. The truth, something only she knew, was simple.
She was not truly a kid. Not in mind. Not in spirit. Her soul carried the weight and pride of a fully grown woman, a soul that had already lived seventeen years in another world and three in this world. Spiritually and mentally, she was already twenty years old.
For her to act like a helpless toddler? To squeal and giggle like a baby?
Not a chance.
She had her pride, dammit.
Three years had been plenty of time to master the language of this world. Once she gained control over her tiny limbs, she threw herself into learning. Anything with writing, whether they were books, letters, old newspapers, she devoured it all, hungry to understand the strange new world she'd been dropped into.
For the first time in her life, she actually wanted to study.
'Iruka-sensei would probably cry tears of joy if he saw this,' she thought, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. The memory flickered, fleeting as always. Memories of her old world came and went like shadows at the edge of her mind.
There was no one from that life to see her now, no one to praise or scold her. Just her, and the silence.
It was not until the year before that she had finally approached Dadan and the others, asking( well, begging) to be taught how to read properly.
Surprisingly, they agreed.
Contrary to what most people might think, not all mountain bandits were uneducated brutes. Dadan's crew, chaotic and rough-edged as they were, had a few functional brains among them. Naru never asked about their pasts since it did not matter, but they were a bunch of decent teachers. Surprisingly patient, even.
Dogra, the short one, teased her constantly but explained things in ways that stuck. Magra, the gentle giant, treated her like a niece. He even had a small stash of books and old newspapers tucked in a dusty crate, treasures he guarded like gold.
Naru had gone through every single one of them.
Through them, she slowly pieced together the picture of this world, which was a world utterly unlike the one she had known. There were no nations sprawling across a single continent, no hidden villages or chakra-filled wars. Here, the sea ruled. Four vast oceans, with East Blue being the weakest among them. Her current home, Dawn Island, fell under the jurisdiction of the Goa Kingdom. It was all so… fragmented. Each island a tiny world of its own, ruled by its own king or queen. It was fascinating, in its own way.
As she read on, the room remained quiet save for the gentle turning of pages.
But Naru was no fool. She knew she was not alone.
She could feel the weight of two pairs of eyes fixed on her back like twin spotlights. But she did not react. Instead, she simply turned another page and continued reading, pretending not to notice the looming presences by the doorway.
At the door of the room, two people were staring at the little girl who was too 'immersed' in her study to notice them.
Garp, who had just returned from his duty as a marine, remarked, "To think that she is already able to read at such a young age, that is quite impressive."
"The brat only started to learn to read about a year ago and she's already able to read a thick book. I'm also quite impressed." Dadan added her own two cents.
Three years ago, she had practically gone to war with Garp when he selfishly decided to dump the kid on her doorstep. But now? Dadan had to admit the girl was very easy to care for. No tantrums. No whining. No breaking stuff for fun. Just a smart, polite little thing who liked to sit in corners with her nose buried in books.
It was hard to hate that little thing when she was being so obedient... and lovable.
"Well, of course!" Garp puffed up proudly, his booming laugh filling the room. "That's my granddaughter! Destined for greatness! Bwahahahaha!"
The "destined for greatness" granddaughter fought the urge to sigh audibly.
"Anyway," Garp continued, "You've done a great job raising Naru, especially for a bunch of bandits. But don't get any ideas about turning her into one of you. Otherwise, you bastards can enjoy the prison cell I've been keeping warm for you!"
He said it cheerfully, almost jokingly, but even Naru (still pretending not to listen) knew he meant every word.
Having known the old man for years, Dadan laughed nervously. "O-Of course not, Garp-san! Naru's a good kid! Easy to care for! Really! Ahahahaha!"
Naru let out a silent sigh. Same old Garp, cheerfully threatening people since day one.
Then his next words made her hands still mid-page-turn.
"Since you've done such a great job raising Naru…" Garp said with a grin that could only mean trouble, "I'm sure you won't mind taking care of another one."
Dadan blinked. "Huh?"