"Thank you both for everything." Aria adjusted the straps of her new vest. "But I should get going."
"Already?" Kaya's face fell. "You've barely arrived."
"Places to be, people to see." Aria managed a smile. "You know how it is."
"Wait!" Kaya rushed to the counter, pulling out a small leather pouch. "Take this. You'll need supplies."
"I can't accept—"
"Please." Kaya pressed it into Aria's hands, her fingers warm against the cool leather.
Aria weighed it in her palm. The satisfying clink told her there were at least fifty berries inside.
"Stay safe, Kaya." She met the younger woman's earnest gaze. "And keep believing in those stories."
"I will." Kaya tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "And if you see Usopp..."
"I'll tell him you're doing well."
She turned to Sasha, who stood with arms crossed, watching the exchange.
"Thank you for the clothes."
"Don't get them torn up too quickly. The next ones won't be free."
Outside, Aria fastened the pouch to her belt. The morning sun was already climbing, and the harbor smelled of salt and tar and fish.
'The Straw Hats will be heading out soon.' She walked down the cobblestone street, her new boots finding their rhythm against the stones. 'If I want to meet them, I need to move.'
She found a quiet corner near a water barrel and took a long drink. Her body still ached from the morning's fight, a persistent reminder of how unprepared she was for this world.
"First step, master this fruit." She studied her hands. "Can't help anyone if I'm dead."
Nothing visible, but she felt something pulsing beneath her skin.
Her eyes settled on the barrel beside her.
She reached out and pressed her palm flat against the wood, the way she had with the mirror. This time she didn't brace for it. She just let herself be curious.
It came slowly at first, like her eyes adjusting to a dark room. The grain of the wood, the way the staves curved inward under the iron bands. A crack near the base sealed with old pitch. Water sitting at three-quarters. Oak, probably fifteen years old, dried and re-treated at least once. She could feel all of it without seeing any of it.
She lifted her hand. The information faded but didn't disappear entirely, leaving a faint impression.
'So it's not just living things. Everything has a structure I can read.'
She flexed her fingers, thinking about the drunk man. The barrel hadn't given anything up when she touched it, just information. But when her hand had closed around his wrist during the fight, something had moved. Flowed. She hadn't meant to take anything from him, it had just happened, pulled by whatever instinct had been running through her body while her mind was still catching up.
She deliberately pressed her hand to the barrel again and tried to pull.
Nothing.
'Objects don't have anything to take. Makes sense.'
She pushed off the wall and moved toward the harbor, counting objectives on her fingers. "Find a boat, sail to the most dangerous sea in the world, track down the protagonists."
She laughed under her breath. "Minor detail — I have zero sailing experience."
As she walked, she noticed something new. Energy patterns moved around the people she passed, colored auras that shifted with each person's body. The fishmonger's strength sat heavy in his shoulders and back. The blacksmith's pulsed through his arms in steady waves timed with his hammer. A Marine recruit on patrol carried energy that moved in tight, disciplined lines, shaped by repetition rather than instinct.
She stopped at a market stall selling dried goods. "What would you recommend for someone setting sail?"
"Planning a voyage?" The vendor's eyes lit up. He began pulling items from his display. "Dried fish, rice, beans, hardtack. Staples that won't spoil in the heat."
"I'll take some of each." Aria counted coins from Kaya's pouch. "What about water storage?"
"Barrels down by the docks. Old Matsuda sells the best ones." He wrapped her purchases in brown paper, then paused. "Though if you're planning to sail beyond the East Blue, talk to Captain Gale first."
"Captain Gale?"
"Retired navigator. Teaches the basics to newcomers who'll listen." He pointed toward the harbor. "Small blue house near the lighthouse. Twenty years on the Grand Line before settling here."
Aria pocketed the change. "Thanks for the tip."
She headed toward the lighthouse, her bag bumping against her hip. At the docks, ships creaked against their moorings while crews moved across decks in practiced patterns. One vessel flew the World Government's seagull emblem, and the dock workers nearby moved with the particular kind of care that had nothing to do with the cargo.
The lighthouse came into view. Beside it, a small house with blue paint peeling in long strips from years of salt air.
She knocked. Bits of paint flaked off beneath her knuckles.
Heavy footsteps approached. The door opened with surprising force.
An elderly man filled the doorway. Deep wrinkles carved his face and his steel-gray eyes moved over her. A faded compass tattoo marked his left forearm.
"Captain Gale?"
"Former Captain." His hand gripped the doorframe. "What do you want?"
"I need to learn sailing basics. The vendor in town recommended you. Especially about navigating the Grand Line."
Something shifted in his expression.
"No." His voice came out flat and final. "I don't teach anymore. Especially not about that sea."
"Please, I—"
"Go home, girl. The Grand Line's taken enough dreamers already."
The door shut.
Aria stared at the peeling paint.
'That's it? That's all I get?'
She set her bag down on the step and sat with her back against the door, mostly because she didn't know what else to do.
"I'm not leaving." She aimed it at the wood behind her. "The Grand Line doesn't scare me."
'Enormous lie. But the alternative is walking away and figuring this out alone, and I have exactly no sailing experience and a Devil Fruit I've had for less than a day.'
Silence from inside. She could feel him in there though, that same low warmth of presence she had been picking up since yesterday, not moving toward the door but not moving away from it either.
She looked out at the harbor. A merchant vessel was making final preparations to leave, crew hauling lines with the ease of people who had done it ten thousand times. She watched them and tried to imagine herself among them, a complete stranger asking to be shown which end of the boat went forward.
'I could probably manage. People have learned from worse starting positions.'
She glanced back at the door.
The sun had moved a noticeable distance by the time she accepted that he wasn't going to open the door again today.
She stood, shouldered her bag, and took one last look at the house.
'Fine. Ships take crew. I'll learn it the hard way and come back when I know enough to ask better questions.'
She turned toward the docks.
"Thanks for nothing, old man."