Dream Seeker · one piece x reader

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

The Dream Left Behind

Yusa Tō was a great man, a little prideful than most, and has long ways to go before he even begins to think about settling down quietly, but the point still stands.

So to think, after doing the World Government a favor of rounding up all the mercenary brats to form one guild, he was still being kept an eye on, was goddamn ridiculous.

Then again, he never was one to do things quietly. So he turns a blind eye towards the government and promptly fucked off to do whatever he wanted.

.

.

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Yusa Tō had grown up surrounded by stories and legends, in the form of his mother's whispers, or the murmurs of aging books in the library of his hometown so far away.

He was a dreamer, and maybe a fool, who wished to find all the weapons of the world.

-

The Ancient Weapons had once been his dream, but after taking one look at the Poneglyph and seeing something along the lines of alive and breathing, he promptly fought the dream back into a corner to set it on fire, or to beat it with a stick. Who knows what his hand will reach first.

Weapons or not, he thinks, living things are meant to be free.

So with the Ancient Weapons out of the picture, he turns his eyes on the 12 Supreme Grade Swords.

Before he was a merchant, he was a swordsman that treasures his scar-free backside and his scar-littered chest.

-

But much, much later, as his eyes fall on Murakumogiri, the Tomoe-typed Naginata, on the hands of that insufferable brat Newgate, the proclaimed rival of the other equally insufferable brat, Roger, he turned a blind eye to those Supreme Grade Weapons. It was either he gets them all, or none.

So he begrudgingly settled for less (one!), but it didn't last long, seeing as Shichiseiken had a green blade, of all colors - and no just because it contrasted his earthy-toned clothes perfectly well, it will not go near any of his body parts! - so he drops the books about the sword into the sea, never to be seen or mentioned again.

...oh, and maybe there was that curse on the sword that him hesitating in the first place anyway. But nevertheless, green blades just aren't fashionable.

-

So he had sat inside his ship's quarters, absentmindedly thumbing a page of the Logbook on his desk, wondering what the world has left in store for a dreamer like him.

Of course, as faith or destiny would have it, the ship rocked and tilted abruptly, the forgotten books on his shelves falling out as he clambers to steady himself.

And there, in the middle of spilled ink bottles and worn quills, sits a book with the engraved words of his next impossible dream.

The Weapons of God.

And he took it with now aged hands and imaginative mind, praying he will live long enough to fulfill another dream of his.

-

There had been twelve weapons in total, split into two with vague and riddling differences, and was scattered throughout the whole world, not just Grand Line but the whole world.

And apparently, as his first-mate - and also 90% of his self-control - had informed him, that each weapon has a creed of its own, an apostle of some kind, but he'd scoffed and said we'll burn the bridge when we get there.