The sea was unusually calm that morning.
No wind. No waves. Just the Roger Pirates drifting under a heavy sky — one that seemed to sense something had shifted.
The Oro Jackson glided over still waters, the sails heavy with the scent of salt and sunlight.
Normally, this kind of silence meant trouble — but today, it meant something else.
Their Captain Gol D. Roger was coughing again.
"Captain, you alright?" Gaban asked, trying to keep his tone light. "You look like you fought Whitebeard and the sea itself."
He stood near the bow, one hand gripping the railing as a dry laugh escaped him. "GAHAHAHA! Don't look so grim, all of you! I'm not dead yet!"
Gaban frowned from behind him. "You sure sound like you're trying to convince yourself, Captain."
Rayleigh crossed his arms, smirking faintly. "You keep laughing through it, but that cough's getting worse."
Roger waved a dismissive hand. "Bah! It's just the sea air. Too clean for my lungs!" He threw back his head and laughed again, loud enough to startle a flock of gulls into flight.
The others stood around him, their usual chatter replaced by unease.
Rayleigh's expression was unreadable, but his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "This isn't just a normal cough, Roger. You've been coughing for weeks."
Ada, who stood near the helm, turned at the sound of his voice. Her eyes narrowed. "Weeks?"
Rayleigh nodded grimly. "He hid it. Said it was nothing."
Roger waved a hand, laughing weakly. "You know me, Ray. Can't waste time worrying when there's a world out there to explore!"
Ada stood nearby, arms folded, the wind tugging lightly at her crimson dress. Her expression gave nothing away, but her eyes followed Roger closely — watching the strain he tried to hide behind that booming laugh.
"Your color's fading," she said quietly.
Roger turned his grin toward her. "You're one to talk, Ada! You barely leave the deck without looking like you've plotted another assassination."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips. "I don't assassinate people unless they're nobles, Captain."
Roger winked. "Good. Wouldn't want to wake up and find my throat missing."
The crew burst into laughter, and for a brief moment, the tension eased — their captain's presence as magnetic and bright as ever.
But as Roger turned away, his hand brushed his mouth, and for an instant, Ada saw it — a faint trace of blood. He wiped it away before anyone noticed.
Anyone but her.
They anchored at a small island that evening.
The crew moved quietly, searching for herbs, water, anything that could ease Roger's condition.
Ada stood beside him, arms crossed, watching the way his shoulders heaved with every breath.
"You've lost weight," she murmured.
Roger chuckled softly. "Never thought I'd hear that from you. You always notice the details."
Her gaze flicked to him. "Details keep people alive."
Then Roger broke the silence. "You've got that look, Ada."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're already planning three steps ahead."
Ada's jaw tightened. "…You're cough is getting worse, isn't it?"
Rayleigh froze nearby, his hand halting mid-motion as he poured water into a pot.
Roger's smile didn't falter, but the light in his eyes dimmed further. "Guess there's no point lying to you."
The crew exchanged uneasy glances. Even Buggy and Shanks, usually loud and restless, stayed quiet in the background.
"Don't you dare say you're giving up," Ada said softly.
"Giving up?" Roger laughed again, his voice still bright. "No. The seas haven't heard the last of me yet. But… looks like my time's got a clock on it now."
Ada's fingers twitched at her side. The firelight glinted against the scar near her wrist — a faint mark from another life. "Then we find a way to stop that clock."
They tried.
From that day forward, every island they reached became another desperate attempt.
They stopped at several islands that week, each time seeking doctors, herbalists, or healers with reputations whispered across seas.
Doctors from the South Blue, healers from the West, herbalists from distant isles — each examined Roger, shook their heads, and whispered the same phrase.
"It's beyond our ability."
Ada stood silent each time, her eyes cold, her mind racing. She questioned every diagnosis, inspected every medicine, dissected every lie. But no matter how many names or formulas she gathered, nothing changed.
The result was always the same.
Every doctor examined Roger, muttered complex medical terms, then sighed and shook their head.
"It's not something we can cure," said one from the North Blue, avoiding Ada's sharp gaze. "It's not an infection, not a poison, not anything I've seen before. His body… it's just breaking down."
Roger simply laughed, clapping the man on the back so hard the poor doctor stumbled. "So you're saying I've got the rarest disease in the world, eh? I'll take it!"
Ada's jaw tightened. "He's laughing. You shouldn't be."
Roger looked at her, eyes twinkling. "If I can't laugh now, when can I?"
She didn't answer. She just turned away, her hand brushing the hilt of Rocks' old sword at her side — the same blade she hadn't drawn since their last battle.
There was a silence between them that spoke louder than words. She didn't trust the doctors, and he didn't want her to worry.
Roger's condition worsened.
One night, under a half-moon, Ada found herself alone on deck. The waves were gentle, but her thoughts weren't.
Rayleigh approached quietly, a mug of rum in hand. "You haven't slept."
Ada's voice was calm, but brittle. "How can I, when the man who dragged half the world behind him is fading before my eyes?"
Rayleigh leaned on the rail. "We've seen miracles on these seas. You really think this is the end?"
"I think…" she said softly, "it's a beginning. Of something worse."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
Ada looked out to the horizon — her reflection flickering in the dark water below. "Roger's the kind of man the world revolves around. If he dies, the balance will shatter. Power will shift. And people will bleed for it."
Rayleigh sighed deeply. "You always see the storm before it comes."
"That's what keeps us alive," she murmured.
Then, after a long pause, she said quietly, "I'm leaving."
Rayleigh turned sharply. "What?"
"I'm going to find a doctor who can help him." Her tone was flat, but there was no mistaking the conviction. "There has to be someone — someone who understands what this is. Someone not bound by Marine or Pirate rules."
Rayleigh frowned. "You'll go alone?"
Ada nodded. "You have to keep the ship moving. I'll catch up when I find someone."
He studied her for a long moment, then gave a faint, reluctant smile. "You're serious."
"When am I not?"
A few nights later, as the crew camped on a small island, Roger sat by the fire, holding a mug of sake. His laughter rolled across the beach like thunder.
"Gahahaha! You should've seen Rayleigh's face when that last doctor said I'd outlive him!"
The crew roared with laughter. Even Rayleigh, shaking his head, couldn't help but grin. "You're lucky I'm too tired to throw that bottle at you."
Buggy leaned toward Shanks, whispering, "What's so funny about dying?"
Shanks frowned. "He's not dying, idiot. He's just sick."
Buggy scowled. "That's what they say before someone dies!"
Ada, who was sitting nearby cleaning her pistols, looked up slightly. "You two should be sleeping."
Shanks blinked. "Big Sis Ada, do you think he'll get better?"
She met his wide, hopeful eyes. For a moment, she hesitated — then nodded. "He's too stubborn not to."
Roger overheard that and grinned. "Damn right I am!" He raised his mug, sloshing sake across his sleeve. "To stubbornness!"
The crew raised theirs in turn, the night alive with laughter.
But Ada didn't drink. She just stared into the flames, her reflection flickering there — calm, but restless.
Days passed. Then weeks.
Roger's laughter never stopped, but his cough grew sharper. And though the others tried to ignore it, Ada couldn't.
One evening, as the ship sailed under a blanket of stars, she found him alone on deck, leaning against the railing and staring at the moon's reflection.
"You're still awake," Roger said without turning.
"So are you," Ada replied.
"Can't sleep. The stars keep whispering at me," he said with a grin. "You ever notice that?"
She stepped beside him, looking up. "I only hear silence."
He chuckled softly. "Then you're not listening close enough."
There was a pause — a rare, fragile stillness between them. The wind brushed her hair across her face, and for a moment, she looked almost serene.
"Roger," Ada said finally. "You've seen more doctors than I can count. None of them have helped."
Roger's smile didn't falter. "Aye."
"Then let me go find one who can."
He blinked, looking at her with genuine surprise. "You'd leave the crew?"
"I'd come back, I already talked with Rayleigh" she said firmly. "But there has to be someone out there who understands what's happening to you. Someone who doesn't follow the world's rules."
Roger chuckled, rubbing his chin. "You've got that look again."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're going to move heaven and hell until you get what you want."
She met his gaze. "You taught me that."
He laughed again, his cough briefly interrupting it, but the grin stayed. "Fair enough, Ada. Fair enough."
The next morning, as dawn crept across the deck, Roger sat propped up against the railing, watching Ada prepare her gear.
"Going off on your own again, huh?" he rasped, his voice faintly amused.
Ada paused, adjusting her coat. "You'd do the same."
Roger laughed, though it came out as a cough. "Fair enough. You sure about this?"
She nodded. "You once told me no sea was too wide for a dream worth chasing. Well… this is mine."
Roger looked at her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze — respect, pride, maybe even gratitude.
Then, he grinned. "Don't go dying on me out there, Ada."
She smiled faintly. "Only if you promise the same."
Roger, still smiling, leaned over the railing. "Gahahaha! Don't take too long, Ada! We'll miss your pretty face around here!"
Ada looked up at him, faint amusement flickering in her eyes. "Then stay alive long enough for me to come back."
The crew gathered at the rail as the ship neared Sabaody Archipelago. The bubbles floated lazily through the air, glistening with light — a strange beauty that masked the tension beneath.
Shanks and Buggy stood side by side, unusually quiet. "Big Sis Ada," Shanks said softly. "You're coming back, right?"
Ada knelt beside him, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Of course. Don't cause trouble while I'm gone."
Buggy crossed his arms. "Tch, as if he's the problem."
Ada gave a rare chuckle. "Then both of you — don't sink the ship."
Rayleigh leaned against the railing, arms crossed. "You sure you don't want backup?"
Ada looked at him. "No. I work faster alone."
He smirked. "That's the Ada I know."
Shanks and Buggy ran to the edge of the deck, waving. "Big Sis Ada! Bring back treasure!"
"Or food!" Buggy added.
She smirked faintly. "I'll see what I can do."
As the longboat was lowered, the crew watched in silence. The bubbles drifted between them, soft bursts of light in the morning air.
Ada glanced back once — her crimson dress fluttering, her eyes calm but burning with purpose.
"I'll find someone," she said. "Someone who can save him."
Then she rowed toward the shimmering island, the sound of her oars fading into the distance.
The crew stood in silence, watching her disappear into the haze of bubbles and light.
Roger leaned back, his gaze following her small figure until it was gone.
"She's something else," he murmured, his voice soft but full of pride.
Rayleigh nodded slowly. "Yeah… and if anyone can pull off a miracle, it's her."
Roger watched her until she vanished beyond the shimmer of the bubbles.
For a long time, he said nothing — then, softly, he laughed.
"She's got spirit," he murmured.
Rayleigh nodded. "More than most."
"Maybe she'll even outlive me," Roger said, grinning.
Rayleigh shot him a side glance. "Don't say things like that."
Roger shrugged, still smiling. "It's not a bad thing, Ray. Some people are meant to see the next dawn — and some are meant to light it."
And so the ship sailed on — without its crimson shadow for the first time in years.
Far behind them, in the archipelago's glow, Nyx D. Ada stepped onto the docks of Sabaody, her heels clicking softly against the wood.
Her eyes were sharp, her purpose clear.
If the seas had no cure to give…
then she would find the one who could.