It had been two years since Dadan found a crying baby on the edge of the woods and took him in. Now, two tiny terrors ruled the hideout.
“Oi, Magra! They’re headin’ for the food stash again!”
A panicked shout echoed through the bandit’s hideout as little Ace and Yasuragi scurried across the room on unsteady legs, giggling in their toddler way. Ace wore a smug, mischievous grin, his round cheeks flushed from excitement, while Yasuragi’s dark eyes sparkled with innocent mischief.
Magra lunged after them, but his foot caught on an overturned crate, sending him crashing to the floor with a loud thud.
“Damn it! Dadan’s gonna skin us alive!”
The hideout had changed in small ways since the two brats arrived. Crates were stacked higher, sharp objects were kept well out of reach, and the floors were constantly littered with broken toys, scraps of rope, and half-chewed bits of wood.
Dadan leaned against a doorway, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold.
“Tch… no matter how many times ya tell ‘em, they don’t listen,” she muttered, though there wasn’t a shred of real anger in her voice.
“Oi, Dogra — grab Ace!”
“I tried yesterday. The brat bit me!”
Yasuragi darted under a table, Ace hot on his heels. The two toddlers had formed a strange, wordless bond. They didn’t speak much beyond babbled nonsense, but somehow, they always understood each other — a look, a grin, a simple gesture.
And then… chaos.
They found the food stash.
A barrel of apples.
With a series of clumsy shoves and unsteady kicks, they managed to tip it halfway over, sending apples spilling across the floor like a tiny red avalanche.
“YAAAGH!!” Magra wailed. “The apples!! Not the apples!!”
Ace grabbed one, sank his teeth into it, and grinned like a miniature bandit king. Yasuragi tried too, but with only two small teeth, he struggled with the tough skin. He plopped down on his rear with a frustrated huff, when suddenly—
[System Notification]
Perception +1
A soft, familiar glow appeared in the corner of Yasuragi’s mind. He smiled to himself.
No one else saw it. Just him.
Dadan finally stepped in, snatching both boys up by the scruffs of their ragged shirts and lifting them like unruly pups.
“Alright, enough for today, you little monsters. You’ll eat what I give ya — not what you steal.”
Both toddlers pouted in perfect unison.
Dogra chuckled from the doorway. “You sure you don’t wanna just dump ‘em off the mountain, Boss?”
“Tch, as if,” Dadan snorted. “Brats or not… they’re mine now.” She sighed, then roughly ruffled both of their messy heads. “Ya gotta toughen up if you’re gonna live here.”
She dropped them onto a pile of old blankets by the fire.
Ace, of course, immediately tried to get up again.
Yasuragi watched him for a moment, then flopped back down, more content to lie there and listen to the soft crackle of the flames.
Truth be told, Yasuragi liked this life. It was rough. It was loud. The food wasn’t always good. But it was warm. It was his.
Dogra strolled over and dropped a small wooden sword beside them.
“Here. Play with this instead of raidin’ the food. Pretend you’re pirates or somethin’.”
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Ace snatched it up instantly, waving it through the air with wild abandon. Yasuragi’s eyes followed it. Something stirred deep inside him — a flicker of something old, like a dream half-remembered.
His tiny hand reached out and touched the worn hilt.
[System Notification]
Willpower +1
And so, the days passed. Two little bandit brats, growing stronger in the shadow of Mt. Colubo.
The sun hung low in the sky, draping Mt. Colubo in a soft orange light. At Dadan’s bandit hideout, the air was thick with wood smoke, the scent of rough stew simmering over the fire, and the constant chatter of bandits long accustomed to the unusual addition of two small children in their midst.
Yasuragi, a baby barely two years old, sat cross-legged on an old blanket, clutching a half-eaten apple with both hands. His messy dark hair framed his round face, and his sharp, curious eyes darted around the room, quietly observing everyone’s movements.
Across from him, Ace lay sprawled on his back, fast asleep with one arm thrown over his face, tiny snores escaping his mouth. Even at such a young age, Ace was a restless ball of energy when awake and completely silent once exhaustion finally claimed him.
“Finally passed out, huh?” Dogra chuckled, crouching by the fire to stir the pot. “He’s a terror, that one.”
Yasuragi blinked at him, tilting his head. Though his infant body limited him, his mind remained sharp — and unknown to anyone else, a faint shimmer only he could see hovered before his eyes.
Magra entered the room, grumbling under his breath as usual, carrying a bucket of water. “Oi, Dogra, get that pot off the fire before it burns again.”
“Eh? Why’s it always my job?” Dogra laughed, but moved to do it anyway.
While the older bandits bickered, Yasuragi’s gaze drifted back to Ace. The older boy murmured something in his sleep, his face scrunching like he was arguing with someone even in his dreams. Yasuragi reached out a small hand and poked his cheek.
Ace’s nose wrinkled, but he didn’t wake.
“Look at these two,” Magra said, coming over with two small wooden cups of water. “Can’t believe we’re stuck raising kids now. Bandits babysitting… what’s the world coming to?”
“Eh, it ain’t so bad,” Dogra replied with a grin. “Kinda grows on you.”
“Speak for yourself!” Dadan barked from another room. “I hear any of you getting soft, I’ll throw you down the gorge myself!”
The men snickered, long used to her bluster by now.
Night came swiftly in the forest. The chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl filled the quiet beyond the hideout’s walls. The bandits finished eating, cleaned up what little they felt like, and drifted off to their own spots.
Yasuragi curled up beside Ace on a tattered blanket. Ace fidgeted a little, turning to press his forehead against Yasuragi’s arm. Yasuragi closed his eyes, his tiny body warmed by the glow of the dying fire.
Just before he drifted off to sleep, another quiet flicker appeared in his vision.
[System Notification]
Affection Bond formed: Portgas D. Ace – Minor
Current Status: Playmate, Rival
A faint, contented sigh left him. The loneliness of being reborn in this unpredictable world felt a little less heavy.
Morning broke over Mt. Colubo, and the forest shimmered under the golden light. The bandit hideout stirred early, rough voices grumbling about chores and breakfast. The scent of burnt fish drifted through the air as Dogra once again failed to make it edible.
Yasuragi, now two years old, was already awake, sitting near the entrance of the hideout’s worn wooden shack. A stick clutched in one hand, he idly poked at a beetle crawling by, his little face scrunched in fascination. He couldn’t speak yet — his small body limiting his words to basic sounds — but his sharp, attentive gaze said plenty.
“Oi, where’s that other brat?” Dadan’s voice boomed from inside.
“Out back with Magra,” Dogra called, wiping his hands on his ragged trousers.
A moment later, Ace came toddling around the side of the house, a crooked leaf crown perched on his head and a proud grin on his face. “Ahh!” he babbled happily, showing off his “treasure” — a particularly shiny rock.
Yasuragi blinked and let out a small, approving hum. He held up his stick in return. Ace stomped over, plopping down beside him without hesitation.
From the shadows, Magra watched with a sigh. “Heh, getting along better than some of us expected.”
Dogra strolled over, arms crossed. “Tch, kids are tougher than they look. I thought for sure Ace would throw a fit about sharing space.”
“Nah, they’re weirdly alike. Both got that stubborn spark,” Magra chuckled. “You can see it.”
Yasuragi barely listened. His attention was caught by a faint shimmer only he could see.
[System Notification]
Progress: 2 years old – Devil Fruit Awakening in 5 years
He focused for a moment, mentally opening his profile.
Name: Yasuragi
Age: 2 years
Strength: 5
Agility: 5
Endurance: 8
Willpower: 42
Perception: 28
Devil Fruit: Reverse-Reverse Fruit (unawakened)
Note: Awakened at age 7
His small chest rose and fell with a quiet breath. Five more years… it felt like a lifetime, but he’d endured worse in his old life. For now, he would survive, grow, and wait.
Ace jabbed the rock toward him, as if issuing a challenge.
Yasuragi smirked faintly — as much as a toddler could smirk — and tapped his stick against the rock. A tiny, pointless contest.
Their first of many.
Magra shook his head and turned to head back inside. “We’re raisin’ monsters.”
Dogra laughed, following him. “Better monsters than crybabies.”
As the day wore on, the two toddlers played in the dirt, chasing leaves and trying to catch frogs by the stream near the hideout. Bandits passed by, some scowling, some chuckling, but all accepting that these two brats were now part of the Dadan Family — whether they liked it or not.
By sundown, both boys were asleep again — Ace sprawled out like a starfish, Yasuragi curled up against a pile of cloth, his stick still in hand.
Dadan stood by the doorway, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. “Tch… troublesome brats.”
But the corners of her mouth tugged upward, just a little.
Mt. Colubo’s bandits had two new members now.