Mystery Box! Unknown Justice 1 [Youjo Senki/One Piece]

“How did it come to this?” Whispered Tenko as he languished in the cage, half-dead from wounds. They didn’t want to say it was because they tempted Being X by being too content with their circumstances… but it very well could have been that,

Tenko (no family name) had been born on Yellow Island, a place in the “Grand Line”, which was one of five seas (read: oceans) in the world. Well, two of six seas, really. Peaceful enough place, the World Government kept a navy base there, and the entire island’s economy was pretty much just to support that base and to act as a repair and resupply point for Navy ships. It was regarded as one of the safest places to live in the world, as no pirate with any sort of sanity would dare attack a Navy base without a big payday involved.

Apparently, the Sandstorm pirates, led by the notorious pirate ‘Crocodile’, had gotten a tip that a massive amount of payroll was currently stored within the base, shortly to be broken up and distributed to the various other bases in this sea. Half a year’s worth of pay. For tens of thousands of Marines. That kind of money added up fast.

As expected, Tenko was born an orphan, which made sense: he had mentioned to Being X that he was born in fortunate circumstances, so one thing Being X would do to fix that is to do the opposite. What was less expected was that they nominally had a living father… that was a very high-ranking Navy officer and thus had zero time to be a single father. So not only did they have to live at an orphanage, they weren’t even eligible for adoption.

They weren’t going to laze around, though. Even with no public education, Tenko refused to be a NEET. They started working as soon as they could, at about age six. They ran messages in the Navy headquarters, which allowed them to get quick and nimble while earning some small amount of respect from the populace. It wasn’t the kind of job he’d prefer… but he was illiterate in the language of this world when he started, despite everyone speaking Japanese.

Eventually, as they matured and grew up to their old stature… at age twelve, with more growth to go apparently, they moved on to helping with other kinds of manual labor. His diligence had earned him many compliments from his direct reports, the exact kind of thing that served him so well in his last life.

But now… pirates. Stuck in a cage, swinging from a rope, with a single shackle that somehow sapped his strength as thoroughly as the sea does.

Ah right, that. Apparently, this world had a form of magic. Specifically, there were ‘Devil Fruits’ that could grant you tremendous power… at the cost of being cursed by the sea, losing all of your strength when submerged in water. Tenko’s fruit… Well, he couldn’t really use it productively. There was a reason he couldn’t remember what had happened between the invasion of the base and him waking up in this too-small cage. It was more cursed than most.

“Kuhahahaha!” Laughed Captain Crocodile. He was a young-ish man, with a scar crossing the bridge of his nose encompassing the entire width of his face. He had a golden hook, massive enough that Tenko suspected he had a functioning hand under it. He also had a devil fruit, one that allowed him to turn into sand. “Fantastic haul, men! Now, we’re to follow our Eternal Pose, put some of it away for Operation Utopia, then it’s off to Sabaody to sell the merchandise and celebrate!”

As the men cheered, Crocodile noticed Tenko. “Oh, you’re awake?” He asked, before shaking his head and muttering “Zoans…”

“Not much point in hiding it.” Tenko said idly. If they bothered to capture him, they weren’t going to kill him over some conversation, as long as he refrained from providing insult. “I’m not sure why you captured me, I’m nobody important.” Well, theoretically they had some Navy officer parent that cared enough to send some money to the orphanage every quarter for his upkeep, but he never met the man so he wouldn’t make a good hostage.

“Kid, you ate a Mythical Zoan Devil fruit.” Captain Crocodile explained, as if speaking to an idiot. Tenko’s eye twitched at the condescension. “On top of that, you’re weak as shit! I’m no fool, you know. I bet the Navy didn’t even know you had that little trump card up your sleeve.”

Tenko frowned at the accurate assessment. “It’s not like the cursed thing is useful.” He argued. “It didn’t help against you.”

Captain Crocodile laughed again at that statement. “Kuhahaha! I’m a Logia, kid. You don’t have what it takes to even hurt me. Your little girl form just meant I had to drop you before you hurt too many of my men.” Tenko flushed at the reminder of what his fruit did to his appearance. “My point is that I can sell you to so many groups it’s not even funny.” Human trafficking tended to be a rather humorless topic, yes. “So sit tight, and if you’re a good little girl,“ Crocodile smirked at Tenko’s clenching of his fists. “-we’ll make sure to feed you.”

Sarcastically, Tenko sighed. “I’ll be in your care, then.” This world was a little frustrating, really. The level of strength ordinary manual labor provided him was enough to be considered superhuman in his old life, but here? Before he resorted to his devil fruit, he was only marginally stronger than each of the pirates he faced. Once they started attacking three at a time, he was screwed. Apparently, the Captain was even stronger than that crazed zealot.

“Ooh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Said an unknown voice. Huh? Tenko turned his head and swung his cage a bit to look at the new speaker. While Tenko had regained his previous height of 201cm at the tender age of twelve, he had noticed that heights beyond that were uncommon, but far from unheard of among the populace of this world. A good example would be this man, who was approximately three meters tall, wearing a long marine coat over his shoulders and a yellow pinstripe suit. “I have orders, after all…”

The relaxed atmosphere on the deck of the pirate ship vanished, replaced with a terrifying amount of tension. Whispers of ‘Yellow Monkey’ and ‘Admiral’ reached Tenko’s ears. Captain Crocodile looked relatively calm as he strode up to address the Navy Admiral, but in comparison to how relaxed he was before, the stress of his fear for this man was palpable.

“What orders are those, Admiral Kizaru?” Captain Crocodile said, declaring with his posture his readiness for a fight if the answers were not to his liking.

“Ooh, scary…” Admiral Kizaru said, not even remotely intimidated. “Well, I was supposed to extend an offer for you, Sir Crocodile, to join the Seven Warlords of the Sea.” Tenko’s eyes widened. The Seven Warlords were essentially privateers, allowed clemency for their past and future crimes in return for avoiding damage to World Government-protected islands, Navy forces, and fighting in battles at the Navy’s direction if called upon. “But that was before you sacked Yellow Island.”

Captain Crocodile snorted. “And? How does that change anything?”

“Well, you see, this kind of process is watched pretty closely by my superiors.” Admiral Kizaru explained. “So I can’t, for example, demand you return everything you stole from Yellow Island to me. Clemency is clemency, you understand.” Captain Crocodile raised an eyebrow. “What I can do is kick all of you around if you refuse, reclaim the payroll and your captives, then send you to Impel Down.”

“I see.” Captain Crocodile said. “I accept your offer.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your refusal.” Admiral Kizaru said, without a single speck of remorse in his tone.

“I said that-” Captain Crocodile began.

Admiral Kizaru held up his hand. “I heard you the first time, pirate.” He said, for the first time meeting Tenko’s eyes as he glanced at the swinging cage. “It was something along the lines of ‘No, I haven’t been kicked at the speed of light before. Won’t you show me, please?’ Now, I’m not usually one to take requests from pirates, but seeing as how you were requested to be a Warlord candidate, I think I can make an exception. Just this once, eh?”

The resulting battle was… beyond Tenko’s ability to perceive. Admiral Kizaru transformed into light, firing lasers and practically teleporting from place to place as he killed half the pirates and heavily wounded the other half. Afterwards, armed with a key that Captain Crocodile had in his pocket, Admiral Kizaru unlocked the seastone shackles that Tenya had on him and placed them on the pirate’s arms instead. Then, he shot the lock to the cage with a laser and dumped Tenko unceremoniously on the deck of the ship.

After Tenko got to his feet, removing the tatters that had become of his clothes from the battle and standing there in what remained of his pants, Admiral Kizaru exhaled. “Ooh, I bet that was a pretty scary thing to happen to you.” He said sympathetically, the most serious he had ever been in that entire exchange. “I sent up a flare, a ship’ll be here to tow this junk heap back to shore soon enough. Just sit tight.”

It wasn’t exactly novel, in this world, for Tenko to stand in front of someone taller than him, but there was still a sense of wonder that came with it. Back in Japan, he hadn’t met anyone taller than him since college, and that was just barely. “Thank you for your service, Admiral.” He said politely, bowing before the powerful man. “But… why did you disobey orders?”

“Ooh, now that’s a question.” Admiral Kizaru said with a wry grin. “Who says I disobeyed orders? You heard him, he said that he didn’t want to be a government lapdog like I was.” His grin sharpened. “Right?”

Immediately understanding, Tenko nodded in agreement. “Yes. That is exactly what happened and any pirate that says otherwise is slandering an Admiral of the Navy.” Admiral Kizaru’s smile softened again. “But…”

“Tenko…” Admiral Kizaru said, which confused him. How did the Admiral know his name? “Call me Borsalino, okay? I’m not one for formality.”

Wait… that name… He thought back to the bank paperwork that the orphanage matron allowed him to see when she was trying to stop Tenko from seeking a job. “...Father?” He asked.

“Ooh, I’m sure you understand the situation now, eh?” Father said. He was saved because of… nepotism? “You’ve grown up pretty tall, I see. I was the same height at your age, so you’ll catch up to your old man soon enough.” Father tousled Tenko’s hair before halting, flashing his hand into light to sterilize it rather than wiping off the filth. “You don’t seem that strong, but the fact that you’re standing with that many injuries shows that you’re tough, at least. That’s good, you’ll need that.”

Tenko did not like the sound of that. “By that you mean…” He said.

“Well… I know you never officially joined the Navy proper, being a civilian contractor. That’s pretty normal for kids as young as you are.” Father said, walking over to a barrel and taking a seat. He gestured to a different barrel tied to the mast, and Tenko took a seat of his own. “That’s going to have to change. Even the janitors are Marines at HQ.”

Ah, he was beginning to understand. “So… I’m going with you?” Tenko asked.

“You were always going to be conscripted eventually, Tenko.” Father said. “The World Government’s pretty strict on that when it comes to their best. You have the blood of an Admiral flowing through your veins, that’s worth something.” That seemed… superstitious. “You’ve got the potential to be strong, like me. They don’t want what happened to Garp’s kid to happen to you.” He pointedly did not say exactly what happened to the child of Garp the Hero. Tenko did know that he had no idea that the man had children, so it couldn’t have been good. “If this didn’t happen, they probably would have waited another four to six years, maybe get Commodore Badger to onboard you voluntarily first.” He shrugged. “But with this? At least you’ll get the best training available.”

Tenko thought hard about what was said and unsaid in that explanation. The World Government’s propaganda was… propaganda. It didn’t include anything critical of the government, and the executions of pirates or terrorists was a frequent reported event. Such a massive military arm was unlikely to be purely staffed by volunteers, so naturally, a draft on Islands with Navy bases was a bare minimum expectation. Even at twelve years old, the body that Being X provided for him was strong, able to engage with grown men on a relatively even level. It would be logical to insist that the physically blessed child be given military training, in a world where soldiers were still issued swords as their primary weapon. The powers of a Devil Fruit would make that an even more appealing concept, if they weren’t aware of how terrible it was.

Even as an Admiral, answerable only to the Five Elder Stars, Father doesn’t think he could protect Tenko from conscription. So it sounded like his options were to either become a marine with the expectation that he will be given officer training, or do something crazy like run off to become a pirate.

Well, that’s no choice at all. “I’ll do it, Father.” He said.

“Ooh, that’s good.” Father said. “That’ll make everything easier, if you’re playing along.” He glanced to the side, and launched a laser into the sky, creating a flash of light. “They’re almost here.” Father glanced at Captain Crocodile again, or more specifically, the seastone cuffs that used to be around Tenko’s wrists. “...So what’s this about a devil fruit?”

Ah, he put two and two together. This will be awkward.

-------------------

Pain. Tenko slowly stood back up, his sparring partner patiently waiting for him to become ready before resuming the battle. Really, the only reason he was faring as well as he was in the Marine’s swordsmanship training was the grounding he got with kendo in his first life. Not that the techniques were worth anything, but it sure helped him maintain discipline when it came to practicing the strikes with the heavy training swords.

Charging with a kiai, Tenko attempted to penetrate the defenses of Captain Swallow. Once again, he ended up on his back with more bruises after failing to land even a single hit. “That’s enough.” the marine Captain barked. “You still lack intent, Ensign.”

What does that even mean? “What, should I ignore defense even more? I’m already halfway unbalancing myself for more momentum, what more do you want?” Tenko demanded. This was the fifth time today he’s said that!

“A clash between blades is more than just an exchange of muscle and steel, Ensign.” Captain Swallow explained. “Make no mistake: Your technical skills are outstanding, and your reflexes, your combat instinct, is prodigious. But swordsmanship is more than that. The wills and conviction of the swordsmen are tested against each other with each exchange of blows. You must strike with intent, with the surety that you will cut! A true swordsman cuts exactly what he intends: I could avoid cutting a sheet of paper in my blade’s path as surely as I could cut steel.” Sounds like a load of nonsense. Captain Swallow scowls. “There will be no more progress today.” He says. “Go to your duty roster, and think about what I’ve said. Meditate on it, perhaps.”

Tenko grumbled as he slinked, covered in bruises, to perform more backbreaking physical labor keeping Navy HQ in order. As an Ensign, he didn’t have to do a bunch of cleaning tasks like lesser ranks do, but he was still low ranking enough that they still had him do productive work rather than administration, which would be his preference.

Specifically, he worked in the shipyards. It wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have done as a dockworker on Yellow Island, he probably even started doing more complicated tasks than he would have if he had stayed.

But that didn’t make the tasks of fixing ships to be any less onerous. They had metal-plated ships at Navy HQ. That wasn’t to say that they built them here, they wouldn’t use up the space required on facilities that extensive on the limited space they had for HQ’s primary responsibility: administration, training and crisis response. But you could probably assemble a ship or five from all of the spare materials they kept in the Marineford warehouses. Get some of the giants working on it and you probably could do it even in the limited drydocks, in a pinch.

Yes, this world also had giants. And Fishmen. And Mermaids. And animal-people, who are called Minks. The sheer variety humanity had, and as all of these people could breed hybrids they were all fundamentally human, astounded Tenko when he had first heard about it. Now? It was just a thing that existed.

The burn of his muscles had become long familiar to Tenko, after a filling meal grander in size than any he had ever had in his first life, appropriate for a growing boy that was taller than most men, he was fully recovered. Supposedly, even unused zoan devil fruits provided benefits to strength and vitality. Given how the kinds of muscle strain he was regularly subjected to would have killed a man in his first world after a single day, that seemed to pan out.

But today, his routine was broken. Instead of going to even more swordsmanship training, he was met by his father, Borsalino. “Hey, Tenko.” He said lazily. “Finally got someone who can help you with your devil fruit. He’s got a pretty similar one, and he’s got an open spot in his schedule to show you the ropes. So… follow me, eh?”

Tenko nodded, copying the Admiral’s lazy walk to… wherever he was going. At fourteen, Tenko was still substantially shorter than the 302cm Admiral Kizaru, but the gap was closing every month. Briefly, he wondered who else had a fruit that was “similar” to the insanity inducing millstone he had keeping him out of the water. More importantly, why was it so difficult for an Admiral to get a few hours of that man’s time? He said he’d ask about that two years ago!

That second question proved to be a very silly one once they entered one of the private training rooms, where Fleet Admiral Sengoku was seated in a classic Bhudda pose. Oh. Right.

“Ensign Tenko.” The Fleet Admiral recited, as if going down a memorized copy of his personnel file. “Age: 14. Devil Fruit: The Human-Human fruit, model: Cherub. Mythical Zoan.”

Tenko sat seiza in front of the Fleet Admiral, as Father moved on to his other duties. “Yes sir.” He replied.

“Now, there’s not much information on what your fruit does, exactly.” Fleet Admiral Sengoku said, with a note of disapproval. “That’s quite strange for a fruit that’s been in the hands of a marine for… how long, exactly?”

“Ten years, sir.” Tenko replied. He remembered that toxic meal well. Damn that Being X, for transforming those grapes as he was eating them!

“Now, I suspect I know the answer to this, but why don’t you use your devil fruit?” Asked the Fleet Admiral.

Tenko shifted uncomfortably. “Because I can’t control it, sir.”

“Oh?” Fleet Admiral Sengoku said, surprised. “I thought it would be because you turned into a little girl.” He admitted.

“It doesn’t.” Tenko corrected. “The Cherub form is sexless, I’m not a boy or girl when I’m transformed.” It’s actually without quite a few normally important organs and orifices, but he figured that the Cherub form just didn’t need to eat.

“Well, use your fruit now, and try your best to control it. Let’s see what the damage is.” The Fleet admiral said, impatiently. He was completely unthreatened by whatever power Tenko could bring to bear… but he was probably right to do so.

Sighing, Tenko focused on his hatred of Being X, to ensure the insincerity of his next words. “Lord, empower your faithful servant to show the glory of God to the infidel before me…” Immediately, his perspective shifted downward, even as his stance changed from kneeling to fully standing. They could feel a tiny breeze on their wings, as they stretched to their full size for the first time in months. Their hair grew to brush the bases of their wings, and enough entered their peripheral vision to confirm that the color had changed to a radiant blonde. Finally, their clothes all vanished, replaced with a simple semi-transparent white dress and some kind of wrapped toga-like undergarment keeping only their limbs visible beneath the dress.

As they allowed their greatly diminished weight to settle onto their now tiny and delicate bare feet, Tenko looked Fleet Admiral Sengoku in the eye. For now, they had control of their faculties. “It’s easier in calm environments like this one.” Tenko said, the high pitched melodious voice they now had fully concealing the last vestige of identity they could possess in this form.

Fleet Admiral Sengoku stared, agog at Tenko’s new form. “C-cute…” He whispered, which Tenko frowned at.

Unbidden, a bell-like giggle escaped their lips, the first signs of the possession. “Xihihihihi!” Slapping a hand over their lips, Tenko swallowed the inappropriate laughter. “I apologize, sir.” They said after the giggles subsided.

“So what can this form do?” Sengoku asked. “I assume it can fly?”

Tenko flapped their wings once, lazily, generating enough lift to rise a few dozen centimeters off the ground. “That’s pretty much all I know about.” Tenko admitted. “I don’t remember what happens when the fruit takes over.”

“Zoan fruits having wills of their own is well documented.” Fleet Admiral Sengoku explained. “It’s why Dr. Vegapunk’s experiments in inanimate fruit infusion only function with that kind. They can activate themselves.” He hummed. “I’ve never had that sort of trouble with my own fruit’s will… but there’s been some habits that can be hard to break…” After a moment, he seemed to have thought of something. “No… it’s impossible.”

“Sir?” Tenko questioned, their wings twitching every so often to maintain their elevation.

“Awakened Zoan fruits can take over the minds of the user.” Fleet Admiral Snegoku said, deeply frowning. “The animal instincts can be frequently overwhelming, but the power released permits a level of strength otherwise unmatched.” He frowned harder, using that legendary mind of his to digest the problem. “I have to see.” He concluded.

“See what, sir?” Tenko asked. Fleet Admiral Sengoku started to stand, his skin starting to turn gold. “Sir?”

“Lose control.” He commanded. “I will test your fruit myself if you cannot make your own report.” He took a combat stance, his palms ready to strike out. “Defend yourself!”

Tenko was suddenly very glad they were incapable of wetting themselves in this state, as the massive man’s sheer presence made him seem like an incoming meteor, impossible to stop nor survive.

--------------------

Tenko awoke, as expected, in the infirmary. With enough bones broken that they immobilized all of his limbs, just to be safe. Pain had become pretty familiar over the last two years, but this… ow.

“Bwahahahahaha!” Laughed another legend of the Marines, Garp the Hero. He was loudly eating a bag of rice crackers. “How in the world did you lose to that Crocodile brat?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Tenko reported, his voice scratchy from dehydration. “Could I have some water?” The nurse came by, giving Tenko some ice chips to suck on.

“You sure gave Sengoku a run for his money!” Vice Admiral Garp said, laughing again.

The Fleet Admiral entered the room, with no injuries that weren’t concealed by his coat. “Well son, it looks like your fruit’s a bit trickier than most.” He said. Wait a second, this didn’t look like the regular infirmary… Was this the one reserved for the Fleet Admiral? “My theory was wrong, it’s not awakened. It’s just willful.”

Garp calmed down. “Yep! It named itself Tanya too! You just have the willpower of…” He thought for a moment, presumably to find something weak-willed enough to make a good joke. Then another moment. Then he started snoring.

…He fell asleep! Well, at least he said an important thing first. Tanya, huh…

“GARP!” Fleet Admiral Sengoku shouted. He then snatched away the remaining rice crackers and ate them all at once, which failed to wake the Vice Admiral. “Ignoring this idiot, “ He continued. “If you want to control your fruit, you need willpower. Which you don’t have much of.” Tenko felt somewhat offended at that remark.

Not offended enough to talk back to the Fleet Admiral, but he spat in the face of something who considered themselves a god. What was that if not willpower? “How do I gain more willpower?” He asked, as respectfully as he could when in traction.

“Tell me, Tenko: What is Justice?” He held up a hand to forestall any attempt to answer. “That is the fundamental question that every Marine must answer for themselves. Meetings with high ranking marines frequently end up as philosophical debates for that reason. Absolute Justice, Unclear Justice, Lazy Justice, Ideal Justice, Merciful Justice, even Instinctive Justice.” Sengoku glared at Garp’s still-asleep form. “You must have been told by someone by now: A fight between men is more than just an exchange of fists, blades, or bullets. It is a contest of ideals, a test of conviction. That is not a metaphor. If you wish to gain strength in this world, you must discover for yourself: What is it that you fight for? What vision of the world inspires you to take up a sword?”

Fleet Admiral Sengoku checked the clock. “I’ve already spent far too much time on this diversion. You will remain here until you recover. Think on my words.”

Tenko allowed himself to fall back asleep, following instructions.

Why would anyone prefer to resolve their battles with violence? It was wasteful. Justice is… hm. What is Justice?

And why was Tanya’s laughter ringing in his head at the question?