Ginti D. Princep has never thought much about children, nor formed an opinion on whether he'd like to have them. Life as a pirate prevented him from thinking much about having a family or a wife for that matter. He'd not thought about what a smaller version of himself might look like – only now that he's confronted with the reality, he begins to think.

The child looks just like him. The same startlingly green eyes have all his attention, lightly wound brunette curls that frame her face go unnoticed. This is his child, boring his surname, his features, but none of his personality.

"How old is she?" Princep asked, peering over the woman's shoulder to look at the child once more.
"Three" Her mother mutters.

He'd not come to meet his child, he hadn't even known she existed until that very moment. Upon docking on the island, Princep had quite favored the idea of reuniting with an old fling. Only to find her – Nona, his child, the product of their casual love, staring back at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Hey there, kid."

The child made no attempt to move her place behind her mother.

"She's shy," Annalee explained, "very unlike you."

Princep nodded in agreement, crouching down to her height. The child gripped her mother's dress tighter, forcing herself back behind her even more, keeping a watchful eye of the man.

"Nona, this is Princep. He's your daddy."

Princep tasted the name Nona on his tongue and pushed back his discontent. He hadn't been there to name her, nor had he been present in the first two years of her life. He had no say in her name, so much as he wanted to change it.

"Hey there, Nona," he tried again.
"Hi."

Her response was small, barely intelligible under the rumble of the party around them. His crew has stopped to watch, observing the small girl in the doorway. His first mate, Clavis, takes one glance at those piercing green eyes and he knows without asking.

Had he known? Had the crew been wrong about Princep's intentions in returning?

"Sir?"
"Go on without me," Princep ordered, "I have something more important to do."

Annalee moved aside, allowing Princep inside.

"Where'd you pick up the name Nona?" He asked casually, unused to the feel of it on his tongue.
"You don't like it," Annalee concluded.
"Hate it," Princep admitted, defeated, "why not something with a little more... I don't know... Something a little more fitting for the Ginti name."
"What would you suggest?" She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

A rumble of laughter came from the small girl.

Princep stopped, tapping his chin as if in thought, glancing down at the girl with a wide grin.

"Alaska."
"Alaska!" Annalee scoffed, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion and irritation. "The hell does that mean?"
"Nothing! I saw it on a map and thought it looked cool."

(It really said Alabasta, but Princep had been too drunk to tell the difference and simply plugged in the letters that appeared jumbled together).

"Ginti D. Alaska sounds a lot more fitting than Ginti D. Nona," He persisted.
"Her name is Nona," Annalee settled, "it's been her name for the last two years now I'm not going to go changing it for you."
"Alright, alright," Princep surrendered, "but I'm calling her Onna."

It's hard making up for three years in two weeks, Princep has learned. Though his little girl has certainly warmed up to him, there's still an absence in his chest that longs to have been there the whole while. He's pushing down the guilt of leaving again, even as it draws closer.

There's a parade in the streets that night, and he reunites with his crew with Onna on his shoulders, laughing as he finishes his story. Clavis raised an eyebrow in question.

"Boys," Princep began, "This is my Onna. Looks just like me, don't she? She's gonna be a right pirate one day."
"Daddy said not to tell Mom though," Onna nods excitedly.

"Why would Daddy say that?" Clavis mused, shooting a warning glance down at his Captain.
"Because Mommy's parents are very dangerous people that will kill Daddy if they find out you want to be a pirate."

A horrified gasp leaves Onna's mouth, and despite just meeting her father two weeks ago, she's painstakingly attached. Her young mind can't comprehend how her loving Grandparents could kill. But the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense. There's no talk of pirates around them, the few times she's been lucky enough to hear them, they've said nothing but negative things.

Though it does make Onna wonder whose right? Are her grandparent's telling the truth – that all pirates are truly dirty and evil? Or are there rare exceptions like her father? Maybe they're both right, but Onna finds herself leaning impossibly towards her father.

Even at three, she's unable to fight the charisma her father puts off.

They watched the parade together, and at the end of the night, Princep found it harder to leave than he ever has before. His child, wide-eyed and though very much unlike him, has captured his heart faster than any woman.

He didn't know much he wanted to be a father upon meeting her, but now, he feels his pirate resolve weaken. He wants to settle down and watch her grow, but the world is out there, waiting on him. And one day, it'll be ready for her.

"I'm leaving now, princess," Princep sighed, running his thumbs over the three-year old's palms, "but daddy will be back soon. I'll start visiting more, and I'll be here for your birthday and all that."

The sadness on his daughter's face was replaced with joy as she threw her arms around him. Princep hugged the smaller body against him, the scent of coconut and vanilla forever changing in his mind. The smell of summer, childhood innocence.

"Promise?" She questioned, pulling back from him.
"Promise," Princep held up his pinky finger, allowing his daughter's smaller one to wrap around.

With a final kiss to her forehead, Princep stood up.

"You better make damn sure you keep that promise, Princep," Annalee growled, "I won't forgive you if you let her down."
"Still the same fiery woman as ever."
"Did you expect any different?"

It's another four months when Princep returns for Onna's birthday. He comes this time not with empty hands but filled with presents he'd acquired along his adventures across the seas. Even Annalee was pleased to watch Onna unwrap a few new dresses that sport summery patterns. He brought the necessities, like new clothes and new shoes to replace the worn ones.

But he also brought sweets, producing a stash of cookies, chocolate chip (Onna's favorite) for her. Annalee had struggled with money to feed them, to begin with, so things like chocolate chip cookies had become a rarity in the house. Even so, she can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy where happiness should be.

Princep returning to his daughter's life is supposed to be a good thing – but she can't help but long for the time when it was just the two of them, and all Onna's affection had gone to her mother.

It's only when the night comes, as she watches Onna sit in her father's lap as he tells her all the stories of the Grand Line, that Annalee settles down. Her parents will be furious to hear of their granddaughter's intentions to sail the Grand Line, but it's Onna's happiness that makes all the difference.

"It's time for bed, Nona," Annalee greeted, sliding into the cozy living room.
"I'm not tired, Mama," Nona whined, "and Daddy hasn't finished his story about Red Hair yet."
"You met red-haired Shanks?"

It's Annalee's turn to feel wonder as she slinks down into the armchair beside them. Princep nodded, grinning proudly beneath his hair. It's grown longer, Annalee figured he hadn't bothered much to cut it since she last saw him.

"Sure did," Princep mused, "right after we had a run in with a couple of marines."

Even Annalee stopped to listen to this one, dutifully ignoring the time, completely entranced in Princep's stories. She can pick out the fabrications in them, but can't bring herself to mention them. The wonder in her daughter's eyes stops her every time.

"Then," Princep winds down, taking a deep breath, "we said goodbye, and he set sail back to the Grand Line."

By the then, Onna was fighting sleep viciously, struggling at every pass to keep her eyes open despite how heavy they are. He can see the flicker of sleep that threatens to take her as he stands. Annalee followed him to Onna's bedroom in silence, watching as he laid the small girl down in her bed.

"I'm not tired, Dad," Onna whined.
"Yes, you are," Princep laughed, "I'll be here in the morning Onna. Get some sleep."

He kept his promise, sitting at the table when Onna rushed into the dining room. She doesn't hesitate, throwing herself into his lap demanding he tells her another story. He doesn't have much time left on the island before he's set to return to his crew and his ship. Annalee said nothing as Princep rushed Onna out of the dining room and outside.

It's nice to hear her laughter in the house.

The outside marketplace was alive with the comings of summer – with Onna clad in her newest dress, courtesy of him. He's got her straddled against his hip, headed towards his ship.

"I can't say things like this in front of your Mom, so I trust you won't either, got that Onna?" Princep asked.
"Got it," She nodded in agreement.
"The world is out there, Onna. It's yours for the taking. Don't condemn yourself to this little town. Get out and explore it when you get old enough."
"I was planning to Daddy," Onna grinned, "I want to be a pirate, just like you. I want to see the Grand Line."

"It's out there Onna, and I believe in you."

Princep's gone another year before returning. Annalee spent an hour at his arrival screaming at him for arriving so beaten. What example would he be setting for his daughter?

"Had a run in with some marines," Princep grinned, "it's nothing."

But after so long, Annalee could tell by the glimmer in his eyes that he was lying.

As the years went by and Onna grew, Princep bravely kept his promises, but his visits became less frequent. Annalee kept a good watch at the papers, stealing away all the ones containing Princep's name. He'd been getting a fair amount of trouble recently with a man named Monkey D. Dragon.

It hadn't surprised her in the least, to see that a Ginti was fighting a Monkey. It was in their blood to hate each other. Their families had not been at peace for ages, the bloody vendetta dating way back, even before the Void century.

In his visits, Annalee fell in love with him again. She fell in love with the teenage recklessness he presented even as he aged, with the way he made their daughter laugh so loud it echoed through the entire house, with the way he had transformed from a simple pirate captain to a father.

She couldn't shake the uneasiness in her gut when he came through the door that night. It was later than he usually favored, with Onna already being fast asleep. He came quietly, slumping down into the armchair that his daughter often frequented with him.

"What's going on?" She asked him, sliding down into the couch next to him.
"It's getting bad out there," Princep sighed, "it's not safe for her. She owns my name with so much pride, she won't let it go. Once marines find her, it's all over."
"Marines won't find her, we'll move around," Annalee whimpered, "if we have too, we can send her someplace safe."

Someplace safe. An island came to Princep's mind, one that the Red-haired Shanks had mentioned to him once or twice.

"It's not just marines though, is it?"
"Monkey D. Dragon's after me, Annalee."

It's the silent defeat he admits that brings Annalee to tears.

"We have to leave."
"We will."

The calmness of the night was shattered by a scream, the call of orders and gunshots echoing through the tiny village. Princep's panic set in, jumping from the armchair to rush into Onna's room. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. Annalee met him in the hallway, throwing open the doorway as Princep scooped her up into his arms.

"It's the marines," Annalee cried, throwing open the basement door.
"Where's the tunnel?" Princep asked, setting the sleepy Onna down.
"Through there."

Princep shrunk to Onna's size again, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side as he takes a hold of her shoulders. There's panic evident in her features as she takes a hold of his hands.

"Remember what I told you, Onna? About the world?" He rushed.
"Yeah," Onna whimpered.
"Good. You know what to do then. Go, run!"

He pushed her towards the secret tunnel beneath Annalee's basement. The house had belonged to Annalee's family for quite some time, the tunnel being fitted upon the fear of Marines invading. It had happened twice before, three times counting that night.

"Daddy," Onna's too proud – even Princep knows that forcing her into the tunnel would do nothing to deter it.

She won't stand back even as the kitchen door was flung open. Annalee blocks the tunnel as the Marines catch sight of the open door.

"Go," Her father's voice was rough, nothing like she's heard before.
"No."

Onna moved to stand beside her father, proud and tall, completely neglecting the danger the Marines present. She's not met the Marines before, only heard of them. But those have all just been stories, she's not witnessed the horror first hand.

"Onna, please, get out of here."
"I'm not leaving without you," She persisted.

Princep had to smile, even with the sound of the Marines thundering down the staircase and his wounds throbbing, she's his child. It was hard to believe upon their first meeting when she was just three, but she stood in front of him, a prideful ten-year-old smarter and wiser beyond her own years.

She bears his features and his personality now.

"I love you, Onna. The world is yours."

It takes all Princep's strength, both physical and emotional, to push Onna through the tunnel.

"Ginti D. Princep. How did we come so lucky to encounter you?"

Princep opened his mouth to utter a scathing remark, but they don't let him. The harrowing echo of a gunshot that will haunt Onna forever rang out. She won't forget the face either.