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It was a massacre.
A horrifying genocide against a people that had done (to his knowledge) nothing wrong.
The Roger pirates had wanted to stop at the port of Corydon to stock up and maybe even get a drink, but what they found instead was the aftermath of a Buster Call.
“Jesus…” Scopper hissed as they surveyed the carnage.
“Why would they do this? The people of Corydon were peaceful!” Momora stood atop a broken slab of concrete while looking around the destroyed town.
Roger spotted a charred corpse buried beneath the wreckage, the head still intact. The signature red nose of a Corydian stood out against the singed hair and blackened body.
“Who knows why the world government does anything? The people probably knew something they shouldn’t and were killed,” Rayleigh frowned at a piece of rubble, the brightly colored paint that was a signature of the town faded and cracked.
“Bastards…” Bullet growled. Roger had to agree.
“Look for any survivors,” Roger commanded.
“Roger, the chances that there are any survivors, especially since this seemed to happen a few days ago, are extremely unlikely,” Rayleigh, ever the voice of reason, explained.
“Unlikely, but not impossible,” He pointed out. And with that, the crew split up to search.
Roger had only been to Corydon once before and it had been such a fantastic town. The people were loud and boisterous. They celebrated every little occasion, always looking for a chance to party. It had been one of the most fun days of his life.
And as Roger walked over the remains of colorful brick walkways, he could almost hear the sound of a merry band playing in the background. The trumpet was especially loud.
Wait, trumpets were not that high-pitched. With hopeful eyes and a quick gate, Roger began to try and locate the source of the noise.
He ended up in an alleyway, where a blackened corpse lay reaching from the mouth into the broken street.
The cry picked up again, and that was no trumpet. That was a baby.
He quickly located the source, a dumpster. The lid was shut and dented in, and chunks of roof and wall had landed atop it. It was no problem for Roger, though. He wedged his callused fingers beneath the dumpster and pried it open. Light flooded in.
A baby.
It was swaddled tightly in a yellow blanket with a small red baby beanie atop its head on a pile of scrap confetti paper and other party supplies. Tears were streaming down its little face as it cried. Roger instantly reached down, pulling the red-nosed baby from its resting spot. It clearly needed a change and it was probably very hungry, but it appeared unharmed.
The baby stared up at him with watery eyes. It reached a little hand to his shirt, gripping it in a fist before burying its head into it. Roger held the baby tighter before looking toward the corpse that had been leaving the alley. They had likely left the baby in the dumpster in hopes that it would survive. A surge of protectiveness raced through the pirate and he held the baby closer before leaving the alley and trekking back towards his ship.
It had been a few hours, and the island wasn’t exactly large, so everyone had returned, waiting for him. There were no extra people among his crew, no more survivors.
Rayleigh was the first to spot him, eyes widening when he spotted the bundle in his arm.
“Is that..?” The question didn’t need to be finished.
“Little things a real trooper. Find ‘em in a dumpster. Guessing it was put in there in hopes that it would live,” Roger held the baby more traditionally in his arms so that the crew could get a good like at it. Strands of blue hair were peaking out from the edge of the beanie and large black eyes stared warily up at the people surrounding it.
Its lip wobbled dangerously before it began crying again, wiggling as much as it could while swaddled. Roger clutched the baby to his chest again.
“Your scary faces are scaring him!” He accused while motioning with his hand to the surrounding crew.
“Our faces aren’t scary!”
“How do you even know it’s a ‘he’?!”
“You're probably holding it too tight!”
Roger held up a hand and the pirates silenced.
“He’s a he because I said so!” The man grinned.
“You can’t just do that!”
“What if it’s a girl?!”
Roger just laughed at his crew’s outrage, grinning despite the insults now being flung his way.
After cleaning the babe (A boy! Roger knew it!),getting some food in his stomach (Goat milk works, right?), and changing the baby into some clean clothes (An old shirt quickly cut up and sewn into something that may resemble a onesie), Roger set the boy onto the main deck.
The entire crew had gathered around to just watch the child until Sunbell spoke up, asking a question.
“What should we name him?”
Instant chaos.
Everyone wanted to be the one who named the kid, firing out names and yelling at others for their name choices. Rayleigh had picked up the baby so he wouldn’t get caught in the fighting, holding the surprisingly silent boy with no trouble.
“Wait! Wait!” Momora shouted. He maybe would have three seconds to speak before everyone was fighting again.
“We should name him something traditional from Corydon!” The pink-haired man suggested. It was silent for a few seconds before everyone grudgingly agreed, settling back to how they were before.
“What are Corydian names?” Bankuro hummed, scratching his head.
“Well, most Corydians get named after a defining feature, so I guess we should figure out what that is,” Momora shrugged. Everyone’s eyes flicked over to the baby, who was idly chewing on one of the strings of Rayleigh’s shirt.
“Nosey?” Someone suggested.
“Every Corydian had a big red nose, moron!” Bullet huffed.
“Well, he’s got blue hair, what about Bluey?” Scopper suggested.
“But that’s so lazy…” Wimple sighed.
“What about Lazy?” Scopper suggested next.
“No way! All babies are lazy! And you just said that because I said that was lazy!” The man hissed.
Roger thought for a moment while looking closely at the baby. He snapped his fingers and made an ‘ah ha!’ noise.
“His eyes!” The captain pointed.
“His eyes?” The rest of the crew parroted.
“Yes! His eyes! They are big and black, like a bug! Buggy!”
“You can’t name him after his bug eyes!” Yui scowled.
“I think I met a Corydian with that name, actually!” Momora voiced.
“I actually like it! Not too obvious, but still describes him!” Seagull nodded.
Roger took the baby from Rayleigh’s arm and held him up.
“Then it's settled! This baby’s name is Buggy!” Roger announced. The crew cheered accordingly, and that night, they held a party in honor of Buggy’s naming.
They had overestimated their abilities to take care of a baby.
Actually, let’s rephrase that.
The Roger Pirates, some of the most feared pirates to sail the Grand Line, were more stressed out about having lost their baby than any Marine admiral.
“He was right there! I swear!” Taro cried. He was running his fingers through his hair nervously.
“How can you lose Buggy?! He barely moves!” Spencer groaned, running his hands down his face.
“I don’t know!”
“Well, we have to find him!”
“Find who?”
The two men slowly turned to face their captain, who was nonchalantly munching on an apple.
“Oh…no one..”
“Taro lost Buggy!” Wimple snitched.
Roger choked on his apple before he yelled, “YOU LOST BUGGY?”
The rest of the crew who had heard the bellowed scratch sprang into action and began desperately searching the ship. Despite the fact that they all had observation haki, Buggy almost never pinged on it. So they all had to actually search for the baby.
It was three hours later when Buggy was next seen.
Scopper had carried him up onto the deck, sitting him down on one of the crates that were next to the main mast before sitting down beside it.
“You’ll never guess where I found him,” The man sighed.
Buggy patted the wooden crate with his tiny hands, babbling in that unknown language only babies seemed to know.
Roger approached, lifting the baby up so he could just make sure he was there.
“Where was he?” Rayleigh asked, coming up beside Roger and combing a hand through Buggy’s choppy hair.
“He was in the fucking explosives room,” Scopper threw his hands in the air.
“The explosives room? That door is supposed to be closed all the time! Wimple, did you leave the door open?”
Eyes turned to the purple-haired man who had been attempting to sneak away. Wimple swallowed nervously.
“No…?”
“You liar!”
“God Damnit Wimple!”
“You’re going to get it, now!”
Yui, Spencer, and Bankuro pounced on the man, and a brawl formed between the four as they eventually spiraled into a free-for-all.
Rayleigh sighed, taking Buggy from Roger and motioning at the fighting men with his head. Roger smiled fondly, rolling up his sleeves. He pats Buggy on the head a few times before diving into the fight himself in his odd way of ‘breaking it up’.
The first mate rolled his eyes at the antics, taking the baby with him into the ship.
They eventually landed on the next island, and sticks were drawn to see who would get to take Buggy clothes shopping. It was odd, how doting the pirates were for this baby. Maybe it was the notion that his entire island had been wiped out, or maybe they had just gotten attached, but the crew spoiled the baby to death.
In the end, it was Momora who got to take him shopping. Yes, there was groaning and glares from the crew while the man had grinned and stuck his tongue out in victory (to which he got a few ‘immature!’ insults).
It was probably for the best, though.
Momora had purchased not just clothes for the infant, but the formula and other much-needed items. The onesies the man did get though, were very fitting. Many were colored in bright colors and patterned with polka dots and stripes, while others had some sort of gimmick to them. Like a cloth strip on the back for easy pick-ups.
It was a very productive trip, and even though they were chased off the island by Marines, the Roger pirates considered their stocking up a success! Especially since they had bought a few baby books to make sure they weren’t doing things horribly wrong. Then again, they were pirates planning on raising a baby on a pirate ship.
None of them had even considered leaving Buggy on another island as they traveled. Adopting the baby into their fold had just been the most obvious thing to do, and even though someone always had to stay below deck to watch Buggy whenever there was a fight, it was not something any of them were willing to do. They had gotten attached to the little squirt.
It had happened like this:
Rayleigh was giving a stern lecture to two of the newest recruits on the crew after they had unintentionally put Buggy in danger on the previous island. Roger was standing off to the side, holding the tike in his arm while occasionally putting in his two senses.
One of the two had said something particularly stupid, so Rayleigh had brought his palm to his face, groaning: ‘For fucks sake!’
“Fucks!”
Wide eyes had suddenly twisted to look towards the youngest member of the crew.
“Fucks!” The boy repeated, grinning up at Roger. The captain slowly looked up at Rayleigh, who was now looking very nervous. The first mate looked away, towards the two newest recruits, who had run away. Likely the second that malice started being wafted in their direction.
“Rayleigh…”
“...Captain,”.
“Fucks!”
Roger placed Buggy on the grand, placing his large hat atop the baby’s head to obscure his vision. He cracked his knuckles as he approached the blonde.
“Now look, captain, I have not been the first to swear around him, it's no wonder that he picked it up! Captain? Roger?”
Later, after a solid twenty minutes of fighting, Roger would finally relinquish his hold on Rayleigh. He would pick up Buggy, set him down on Rayleigh’s panting form, and walk away.
“Fucks!” The baby said once again.
Rayleigh groaned.
The moment Buggy learned to walk was one that was greatly celebrated.
The days that followed, however…
“He’s gone again!” A frazzled-looking Yui informed. He did not slow in the search that he had begun, and everyone else on deck quickly followed suit.
“He ran off?!” Seagull asked, picking up a crate to look behind it.
“How is he so fast? He just figured out how to walk!” Wimple whined, looking around the bases of the masts.
“Holy shit he’s on the mast!” Momora was the first to notice, pointing up at the towering ship parts in question.
“How the fuck is he so quiet when escaping?!” Bankuro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“God, no one said toddlers would be such a handful…” Scopper tutted. He had climbed up the mast and retrieved the laughing toddler, holding him like a kitten.
“Everyone says that!” Was the outraged response.
Spencer stepped forward, pulling Buggy’s beanie further down over his face with a furrowed brow, “Brat,”.
“Nuh-uh! You’re are!”
“It’s ‘you are’, and no! I’m not!”
The toddler just grinned, wiggling out of Scopper’s hold and landing on the ground. He wobbled a bit as he stood before shakily walking off, his steps growing more confident with everyone.
“It feels like it was just yesterday when the captain found him,” Momora sighed, plopping onto the ground.
“Are we getting old?” Ganryu murmured, stroking his mustache idly.
“No! We definitely are not!” Bankuro huffed.
“Don’t know if you can say that!” Yui teased, pointing at the pirate’s white hair.
“My hair is naturally white you dick!”
“Captain?”
Roger nearly jumped out of his skin when the five-year-old approached him, as silent as he always was. The man put a hand to his beating heart and chuckled at his excitement.
“Yes, Buggy?”
“How do I make a bomb?”
“I…huh?”
Buggy held up one of the picture books that Momora had bought for him. There was an image of a cartoon pirate throwing equally cartoony bombs at a town, a large fanged smile on his face. Buggy pointed at the bomb.
“A bomb! How do I make one?”
Nervous laughter. Roger plucked the book from the child’s hands, shutting it and placing it on the crate behind him.
“Well, Bugs, you see…Uh. Bombs are very dangerous! And you are…” Roger bit his lip at Buggy’s bright-eyed face.
“How about this, Bugs? I’ll tell you how to make a bomb if you…” The captain looked around, spotting the large crates that held extra cannonballs.
“If you can push one of those crates all the way to the other side of the ship! With no help from any of the other adults on this ship, alright?”
Buggy looked disappointed for a moment before his expression hardened into that young determination that younger kids always seemed to wear. The boy reached up, grabbing his book and looking at the page with the bombs before closing it and holding it to his chest.
“Okay! I’m going to make really good bombs, then!” Buggy smiled up at him, Roger’s heart pretty much melted right then and there.
“I believe in you, Bugs!”
Buggy nodded. He turned and ran off to the opposite side of the deck, observing the crate.
That should keep him busy!
It was one of the things that Roger had feared the most ever since he had found Buggy. It was one of the crew’s greatest fears, and why they had always kept Buggy out of the way when fighting with enemy ships.
It had been a rainy day already, and it was obvious that a larger storm was on the horizon. The day had only been made worse when a pirate ship called the Death Bloom of all things appeared out of seemingly nowhere and began to attack. From what Roger could gather during the fight, they stole people away and tried to sell them. Shitheads.
The fight wasn’t even that difficult, if anything, it was too easy. The pirates had retreated after only a few minutes like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Very few of the Roger pirates were injured thankfully.
“Alright! Who brought Buggy down? He can come back up now,” Roger chuckled at the retreating back of the ship while cleaning off his blade. There was silence for a few seconds. Roger blinked before turning to his crew. Dread pooled in his gut.
“Line up, headcount!” He ordered. No one waited around, everyone scrambled into a line.
Everyone had been on deck. No one had grabbed Buggy, Buggy who had been trying to push the cannonball crate. No one had grabbed him and brought him below deck to protect him. No one grabbed him.
No one except for the Bloom pirates.
“Follow them!” Roger commanded. The pirates quickly sprang into action, changing their course to chase after the pirates that had stolen their youngest.
-
Buggy hadn’t even realized there was an enemy ship. He hadn’t realized it until he had suddenly been grabbed by his waist by unknown hands and hit over the head with something hard and painful. He couldn’t fight as he was slung over someone's shoulder and brought into an unfamiliar ship, thrown into some type of cell. It hurt to think, so he stopped.
When he woke up, his head hurt badly. Real bad. The boy groaned and hovered his hand over the lump forming on the back of his head. His beanie was gone.
“Psst! Hey!”
The boy looked up, eyes adjusting to the dark brig he was in.
“They got you too, huh?” A boy that couldn’t be much older than him asked. He had tangled red hair that reached about his shoulders and missing front teeth.
“Where am I?” Buggy asked, sitting up. The other boy scooched closer to him, peering at him with confused eyes.
“We’re in a pirate ship, duh. They grabbed me while I was sleeping in an alley, and say, why’s your nose like that?”
Buggy’s hand shot up to his nose, feeling at it.
“What? Like what?” Buggy asked. His nose felt pretty normal, it wasn’t like it was broken or anything.
“Um… never mind! So how’d they get you?” The boy asked.
“I was working on our ship and then they hit me in the head…” Buggy bit his lip and furrowed his brow. He hoped they would get there soon.
The redhead nodded along to that before crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side.
“What’s your name? I’m Shanks!”
“Buggy,” Buggy answered. Shanks blinked before grinning.
“Cool name!” He complimented.
“Well duh! Captain gave it to me!”
“Your captain named you?”
Buggy nodded, fidgeting with a rusty nail he found on the cold ground.
“Captain says that he gave me my name because, um, because my eyes are big and I can see lots,”.
“Woah! That's so neat! I wish I had a captain…” Shanks huffed, leaning against the wooden wall.
“Well…you could join our crew!”
“Really?!”
“Yeah! It would be lots of fun!”
“Okay! I’ll join- oh! How old are you?”
Buggy quickly did the math on his fingers.
“Six!”
“I’m seven! That makes me older than you!” Shanks teased.
“So what? I bet I can do way more! I’m a pirate!”
“Yeah, but I’m going to be a pirate soon too! Because you said I could!”
“Oh yeah!”
The two had nearly forgotten exactly where they were, but that was soon changed by the sudden bang of a cannonball rocking the ship. Shanks’ eyes narrowed while Buggy rushed behind the other boy.
A man with many scars and an eyepatch hobbled into the room, eye narrowing once he spotted Buggy.
“You!” He shouted. The man unlocked the cell, stalking forward. Shanks held steady, shielding Buggy while glaring with as much venom as he could. The man barely stopped, backhanding Shanks out of the way before gripping Buggy by the hem of his striped shirt and lifting him up.
“Fucking freak, your little crew noticed you were gone and came back for you! This is your fault!” The man screamed in his ear. His grip was tightened before he suddenly swung his fist, knocking hard into the side of the six-year-old’s face. Buggy cried out in pain and tears began to stream down.
“Get away from him!” Shanks yelled. The boy barreled forward, stabbing the man’s flesh leg with the rusty nail Buggy had been messing with mere moments before. The man yelled in a fury, dropping Buggy to the ground. The blue-haired boy witnessed in horror as the man picked Shanks up next and prepared to throw him across the room.
That was when he spotted it. The knife was attached to his side. Buggy barely thought about it, he ripped the knife from its sheath and jumped up, climbing onto the man’s back like he always did when playing with the crew. But this was different.
The man, distracted from Shanks, twisted his head to glare at Buggy with his one working eye. Giving the boy the perfect chance. Buggy swung his arm back to gather momentum-
And plunged the blade into the side of the man’s neck. The man’s eye widened before rolling back. Blood began to spray everywhere, and Buggy jumped off, falling to the ground with a thump moments before the man slid down. The red hot spray splattered onto both boys' horrified faces. The knife was still tightly gripped in Buggy’s hand.
“Buggy…?”
Buggy whipped his head around, stunned tears flowing free. Shanks was crying as well, silent tears.
“Are…Are you okay?” The blue-haired boy asked. Shanks nodded mutely.
Buggy looked over at the corpse.
“We gotta go,” Shanks murmured. Buggy nodded his head, but in all honesty, he was struggling with comprehending just about anything at the moment. Shanks carefully stood, limping on what was likely a sprained ankle from the rough treatment. Buggy forced himself to do the same, knife still gripped in a white-knuckled fist.
They had just walked out of the cell, Buggy’s free hand held comfortingly in Shanks’ when Rayleigh came rushing down. He stopped the moment he saw the two, taking in their blood-covered forms and traumatized faces.
“Oh, Buggy…”
The boy in question simply sniffled.
“This is Shanks,” He said. Shanks gave a weak wave with his free hand.
“Hello, Shanks. Are you two alright? Are you hurt?” Rayleigh sheathed his sword and kneeled down in front of them. Buggy’s shoulders began to shake and Shanks’ quickly followed. It seemed the odd calm brought by adrenaline had suddenly worn off because sobs quickly broke out of the children’s lips. The first mate scooped the two into his arms, holding them tight to his chest.
“Let’s get you, boys, out of here,” He whispered. The two just cried harder.
Later, when the Roger pirates had finished massacring the Bloom pirates and revenge had been exacted, Buggy and Shanks were treated for their injuries.
Shanks had apparently been in their hold for a week, and even though they didn't exactly do anything to him, the boy’s hair had become so tangled that it was impossible to brush out, so it needed to be trimmed to about his neck.
Buggy was fine except for the large bruise forming on the side of his face where he had been punched and for a tooth that had been punched loose. Shanks’ ankle was minorly sprained and he too would have a large bruise on his face, but besides that, the two children were physically fine.
Mentally, however…
Buggy had never exactly been raised in a ‘never kill’ environment. In fact, the crew had started teaching him self-defense and vital spots whenever he turned four. Just in case. But this was his first…kill. He had snuffed out a life, albeit one that plenty deserve, but still… Roger of all people knew how traumatizing that could be.
Buggy was held tightly in Roger’s arms, his captain having grabbed him the moment he was cleaned up. Buggy was crying into his chest, the Corydian having fisted his hands into the red coat draped over Roger’s shoulders.
Eventually, the sobs lessened into sniffling and shaking.
“I told Shanks he could…join us,” Buggy sniffled.
Oh god, he couldn’t have another kid on board. The chances of danger would double, and things would be so much harder-
“Please…he has nowhere to go…’nd he helped me…” The kid pleaded. Roger frowned.
“Alright Bugs…He can stay…”
“Really?” Red-rimmed eyes reached into Roger’s very soul and tugged on him, hard.
He smiled, “Of course!”
“Thank you…”
How was he supposed to know that a week later, Buggy would enlist Shanks’ help to move the crates of cannonballs, thus squirming his way through a loophole to learn how to make bombs?
The kid was crafty, he would give him that.