Revised 10/18/16

Chapter One: Everything

"Don't just stare at it, brat! Open it."

The young boy looked at the poorly wrapped box with a questionable look. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with the thing. It was covered in plain brown paper, the same paper the butcher used to wrap meat.

"What it is?" he asked, looking up to the old man.

"It's the point of the thing not to know. Haven't you ever got a gift before?"

"No."

The old man sighed, shaking his head. He took a clumsy seat on the long grass and motioned for the boy to follow suit. The nine year old frowned but complied, keeping a good distance between them.

The raven-haired boy held the wrapped box in his hands. It was light, it almost felt empty. He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do with something like this, and if he wasn't supposed to know what's inside, what was the point of opening it?

"Listen kid," the old man sighed, "I know you've never had anyone to look out for you, so hearing you had a grandpappy out at sea all this time must've pissed you off something good."

"My name's not kid! It's Roger," the boy protested, letting the present fall into his lap in favor of crossing his arms, "and I can take care of myself."

"Don't interrupt!" The old man growled, raising a powerful fist over the boy's head and bringing it down.

"Ouch!" the boy hissed, clutching his head. His eyes were watering and he could feel the bump swelling.

His grandfather ignored the pained display and continued where he'd left off.

"Hell, imagine my surprise when I finally retire and come back home, only to find some brat with my name, living in my house, causing trouble all over of the place!"

Roger bit his lip to stifle a cry as he continued to hold his head. He glared at the old man in front of him, but the look held no real heat. For as much as the old man had pissed him off in these last three weeks, at least someone had been around to do that much. Even being annoyed was much better than being ignored.

"It's not like I had a choice or anything," Roger mumbled. He'd been in that house as long as he could remember. And he'd lived alone even longer than that. The old man's eyes softened, and he sighed, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

"Well, it won't be like that anymore. Retired or not, I'm still a marine, and like hell I'll have my only grandson running around creating all sorts of problems. Now, open the damn box before I open it over that thick skull of yours!"

The boy quickened at the threat, not wanting to add to his head's already impressive collection of lumps, bumps, and bruises. He grabbed the box with both hands and pounded it against the ground.

"No, you idiot! Peel off the paper," his grandpappy said, reaching forward and peeling a corner piece up from the box.

Roger grinned, now understanding that the point of the stupid paper was to rip it into small shreds. He went about it excitedly until a naked box sat in his lap. The box had a closed flap that Roger easily lifted. He looked inside, confusion clear on his face.

Out of the box came a brand new hat, in much better condition than the old ones he'd found in the trash. It was light and sturdy, made from straw and accented with a bright red ribbon. He frowned.

"This thing sure is ugly."

He cried out as another fist met the top of his head, causing his bump to double.

"Is that all you have to say, you ungrateful brat!?"

"Thanks," the boy choked out, clutching his head in pain as tears rolled freely down his cheeks.

"You're welcome! You'll need something to keep the sun out of your eyes, if you're to learn your way around a ship."

"My way around a ship?" Roger asked eagerly, his eyes growing with excitement.

"Ah, that's right. Any self respecting marine prospect better know the basics."

The old man picked the hat up from the ground and placed it on his grandson's head. He laughed as he looked it over.

"Hah! And that vendor said it'd be too big!"

"It will be, once these go down!" Roger exclaimed, pointing to the bumps that were now hidden under straw.

"Nahaha! I'm sure I'll give you plenty more to keep that hat on your head, if you're as dumb as you look! I have no patience for dumb idiots like you! Nahaha!"

Roger got to his feet and pulled at the sides of his new hat in aggravation.

"Just you wait! I'll learn more about sailing than you! And then I'll leave this stupid island and become King of the Sea!"

The old man's laughter died as he regarded his young grandson.

"King of the Sea, eh?"

"That's right!"

"Tch," his grandfather scoffed, also standing up. He looked down, sending the boy a challenging look, "the marines have no need for kings."

"I don't want to be a marine!" Roger countered, a determined look in his eyes.

"Oh? Then tell me, what kind of man becomes King of the Sea?"

Roger opened his mouth to answer, but then shut it again. He wore a thoughtful expression for a while, until it faded away. The boy shrugged, "I don't know. I'll just find out when I get there."

His grandfather chuckled, placing a soft hand atop the hat before walking back towards the village.

"I have a feeling that straw hat is the closest you'll get to a golden crown," the retired marine called back to the boy, amusement ringing in his voice, "but, what the hell does an old man like me know?"

Roger watched his grandfather until he was out of sight. Then he walked down to the rocks that stretched out into the sea. He took a seat on his favorite one, farthest from shore, and pulled the hat from his head.

His eyes looked it over carefully, his fingers tracing the woven pieces of dried plant stem, wondering how someone put together such a sturdy thing from such a strange material.

The red ribbon darkened in spots as the ocean splashed against the rocks and showered him. The sea mixed with warm tears felt good against his face.

He grasped the hat tighter in his hands and pulled it to his chest, hugging it there, protecting it from the wind and the water and holding it close to his heart. It was his. It was given to him in a nice box, brand new and never worn. It was given to him by someone he could call family.

He brought it back up to his head and held it there. His other arm wiped across his face, erasing the salty trails. The boy stood on sturdy legs and looked out at the ocean. The wind was strong, pushing and pulling at the hat on his head. His hand held it in place.

Right now, this hat was the only thing he owned, and he'd treasure it.

But he wanted it all. Everything that stretched out around the small island he grew up on.

The boy who lived with nothing stared out at the ocean and dreamed of everything.

AN: I drew a few parallels between Roger and Luffy's lives, and I'm writing Roger with some of Ace's personality traits as well. It just feels right to me, but let me know what you think. It's hard writing a character I haven't seen much of, especially when the OP kids are pretty different from their adult selves. Roger will be going through some development as well down the line.

I've been wanting to do something like this for a while, but I wasn't sure just how to approach it. I think I finally figured out how I want to go about this.

The chapters will rotate primarily between Roger, Shanks, and Luffy (mostly focusing on their childhoods.) The Roger, Shanks, and Luffy chapters will be sequential. For example, the next Roger chapter will be set after this one, and will build off of this chapter.

I like experimenting with stuff like this, so I guess I'll just see how it turns out! Love the idea, hate it? Let me know, I haven't tried anything like this before.