The sky was overcast, but inside the treehouse, it was all light and noise.
It had been just under a month since they'd officially begun One Piece: Redux, and the cracks were beginning to show.
Luffy hunched over the tablet screen, his stylus flicking back and forth in frantic strokes. Sweat clung to his brow, but he didn't stop. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and his knees bounced in place as he adjusted each frame of the animation. A barrel bobbed across the waves in one panel. In another, the Sea King's outline emerged in silhouette, jagged and coiled.
Across from him, Gwen leaned over a notebook, muttering lines of dialogue. Her hands were covered in graphite and highlighter ink, and her expression was laser-focused.
Ava hovered quietly beside them, projecting render previews on the back wall. "Transition smooth. Timing off by 0.3 seconds. Adjusting."
They were working on a short commission animation — a three-minute promo piece for a small gaming YouTuber that had reached out through Ava's online alias. It wasn't their passion project, but it paid. And right now, every dollar counted.
Not just for equipment.
But for Luffy's food.
Ava's latest scans showed his metabolic output was now five times higher than baseline for someone his size and age. The side effects were creeping in: night sweats, loss of appetite, sudden weakness. His Devil Fruit, while amazing, was demanding more than his body could safely give.
They needed funds. Not just to finish One Piece: Redux, but to keep Luffy alive while doing it.
"Hey," Gwen said softly, tapping her pencil against the wooden floor. "You eating that protein bar or just drawing on it?"
Luffy blinked down at the half-unwrapped snack beside him. "Right. Forgot."
She tossed him a look. "How do you forget food?"
"Easily," he mumbled through a yawn, biting into it anyway. "I'm on a roll."
"More like running on fumes," Ava muttered.
Gwen narrowed her eyes. "What's your vitals readout?"
"Low," Ava replied bluntly. "Dangerously low."
"I'm fine," Luffy muttered. "Seriously, we're so close to finishing this job—"
And then he wobbled.
It happened fast. His hand slipped from the tablet, and he slumped forward, his face hitting the sketchpad with a soft thump. The stylus rolled across the floor.
"Luffy?" Gwen was already on her knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders.
Ava's core glowed bright red. "Pulse: shallow. Blood sugar: critical. Activating emergency protocol."
Luffy's lips were pale. His eyes fluttered open, barely focused. "...I'm okay," he whispered.
"No, you're not!" Gwen snapped, her voice breaking. "You're not okay, Luffy! You collapsed!"
"I just... needed a second…"
"Save it." She turned to Ava. "Medical scan?"
"Already running. He's in severe deficit. His body's cannibalizing itself to stay powered. If we hadn't stopped now…" Ava paused. "He could've entered organ failure within the week."
The silence that followed was so heavy, it made Gwen's chest ache.
She looked down at Luffy's limp form in her lap. "This is over. No more commissions. No more Redux. Not until we fix this."
They carried him to Gwen's house later that evening, sneaking in through the back as always.
He slept for thirteen hours straight.
When he woke, Gwen was already beside him, holding a tray of toast, eggs, and a massive banana-peanut butter shake. She didn't say anything. Just pushed it into his hands.
He looked at the food. Then at her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She sighed. "Don't be. Just eat."
For the next few days, their entire schedule shifted. The studio remained dark. No sketching. No rendering. No sound mixing.
Instead, it was pills, shakes, nutrient logs, and rest.
Ava created a health tracker synced to Luffy's vitals. It pinged whenever he skipped a meal or sat still for too long. Gwen took up cooking duties — simple stuff at first, then more elaborate when Ava's data showed improved digestion.
The worst part was how quiet Luffy became.
He didn't fight them on the rules. He didn't argue when they took his sketchpad away. But his silence spoke volumes. The fire behind his eyes dimmed.
It scared Gwen more than the collapse did.
One afternoon, she found him outside the treehouse, sitting beneath the frame of an unfinished wind turbine Ava had designed. The wind brushed through the leaves above, rustling softly.
"Hey," she said, sitting beside him. "You're not sketching."
"I know."
"You okay?"
He hesitated. "What if I can't do it, Gwen? What if I burn out before we even finish the East Blue arc?"
She looked at him — really looked — and saw how small he seemed in that moment. Not the reincarnated boy with otherworldly knowledge. Just a ten-year-old kid who wanted to build something beautiful.
"You won't," she said. "Because we're not letting that happen. We're not doing this dream without you in it."
He nodded, slowly. "I still want to draw."
She smiled. "Good. Then let's make sure you can."
That night, Ava gathered them around her projection wall.
"I've compiled a list," she said, expanding a grid of high-performance dietary options. "Some are available online. Others are controlled. But I've built fake science fair submission forms that should get us access to the restricted ones."
"Seriously?" Gwen asked.
"Already spoofed the school logo," Ava said proudly.
"You're terrifying," Luffy said with a small grin.
Ava floated up to eye level. "I'm your terrifying little sister. Now drink your shake."
Gwen laughed. "That line belongs on a t-shirt."
By the weekend, their side project was complete and delivered. The money came in — just enough to order upgraded art tablets and their first wave of experimental nutrition boosters.
They sat in the treehouse, surrounded by unopened boxes, pill bottles, and rolled-up plans.
Luffy popped one of the supplements in his mouth and chased it with orange juice. "Tastes like dirt."
"Strong dirt," Ava corrected.
"Still dirt," he grumbled.
Gwen leaned over and ruffled his hair. "As long as it keeps you standing."
He smiled faintly, the fire behind his eyes flickering back to life.
The next day, the studio lights flickered on for the first time in a week. Ava displayed a fresh logo over the wall: Frame One Studios – Version 2.0.
Gwen pinned up their updated timeline. Luffy taped a new sign under Studio Rules:
Everyone lives.
And with that, they returned to the dream.
But this time, they weren't just building a story.
They were learning how to survive it.