Ron guessed that Crocus was probably still inside Laboon, administering sedatives to calm the raging whale.
So, he decided not to act rashly.
"Let's wait by that lighthouse," he said, pointing toward the lonely structure on the shore. "We'll rest there until the old man returns."
Not long after, Crocus emerged from the whale's massive blowhole, wiping his hands with a towel.
Laboon's cries had quieted; its enormous body floated peacefully near the surface once more.
But as Crocus stepped into the lighthouse, he stopped short.
There were people inside.
Three strangers two young women and a man seated as if they'd been waiting for him.
The man stood when Crocus entered, smiling with unnerving calm.
"Hello there, old man," Ron greeted politely.
The voice was smooth, but something in it sent a faint chill down Crocus's spine.
A lifetime of experience told him that this young man's smile hid far more than it showed.
That kind of confidence that quiet sharpness didn't come from innocence.
It came from power.
And danger.
Still, Crocus didn't sense malice only an unusual, unreadable presence.
The youth extended a hand.
"My name's Ron. These are my companions Nami and Nojiko."
He spoke with the courteous poise of a nobleman, even as his sharp eyes studied every corner of the room.
Crocus felt that gaze like a scalpel precise, measured, and impossible to ignore.
Ron continued, smiling lightly.
"May I know your name, sir? There are… a few things we'd like to ask you."
Crocus hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
"I am Crocus," he said simply. "If you have questions, speak freely."
His tone was steady, though the faint tension in the air did not fade.
Nami and Nojiko exchanged curious glances.
The old man's violet-yellow headpiece and strange saffron robes were unlike anything they had ever seen.
But Ron's expression told them he already knew exactly who Crocus was and perhaps, why he'd come.
Ron folded his arms, pretending to be puzzled.
"That whale out there," he began casually, "why does it keep slamming its head against the Red Line? And why does it cry toward Reverse Mountain every day?"
He already knew the answer, of course but this was how he chose to open the conversation.
It gave the sisters a reason to listen, and Crocus a reason to trust.
Crocus sighed. His eyes softened with the weight of half a century.
"So… you've met Laboon."
He looked toward the window, where the ocean light reflected off the whale's scarred skin.
"This story begins more than fifty years ago."
And so he told it slowly, tenderly.
The tale of the Rumbar Pirates, and the tiny whale who followed their ship across the seas.
The friendship, the laughter, the promise.
The farewell at the foot of Reverse Mountain.
And the endless waiting that followed.
"Fifty years," Crocus whispered. "Laboon has waited here for fifty long years, believing its companions would return."
His voice trembled faintly.
The sisters sat in stunned silence.
Nami's eyes glistened. "But… after all this time, the Rumbar Pirates must be…"
She trailed off, unable to finish.
Nojiko nodded quietly. "Half a century… it's hard to imagine any of them are still alive."
Crocus shook his head gently.
"Perhaps not all hope is lost," he said. "I've received word that the Rumbar crew once left the Grand Line alive."
"What?!" Nami gasped.
"They escaped? After all that? They left Laboon waiting here?"
Her voice was filled with disbelief and anger.
Crocus's expression darkened.
"To flee the Grand Line is no small feat. It means they survived the Calm Belt. But it also means… they had no intention of returning."
He sighed deeply.
"The sea breaks even the strongest hearts. Sometimes, survival comes at the cost of promises."
Nojiko frowned. "But why not tell Laboon the truth? Doesn't he understand human speech?"
Her tone was gentle but insistent.
"How can you watch him suffer like this, hurting himself day after day?"
Crocus's shoulders sagged.
"I've told him," he said quietly. "More times than I can count. But he refuses to believe it. In his heart, he's certain the Rumbar Pirates will return from the other side of the Red Line."
Nami looked down, whispering, "But after so long… waiting only brings pain."
Crocus's eyes softened again.
"For him, losing that hope is worse than death. It's the only thing keeping him alive."
Ron, who had been listening in silence, suddenly spoke.
"Actually," he said, "perhaps that hope still means something."
Crocus blinked. "Oh? What do you mean?"
Ron leaned forward.
"You mentioned the Rumbar Pirates. Among them was a musician named Brook, wasn't there?"
Crocus's eyes widened. "You… know of him? That was over fifty years ago!"
Ron nodded, calm as ever.
"I've heard stories from Dracule Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman."
Nami's brow twitched. She knew full well Ron was bluffing but wisely held her tongue.
Ron continued smoothly.
"Mihawk told me Brook still lives. He's trapped somewhere deep within the Grand Line unable to return, but still bound by his promise to Laboon. The last surviving member of the Rumbar Pirates."
Crocus's breath caught.
"The Soul King… still alive?"
His eyes glistened as he whispered the name.
Mihawk's reputation was unassailable; if this story came from him, it carried weight.
"Where is he now?" Crocus asked, his voice low, almost trembling.
"The Florian Triangle," Ron answered simply.
Crocus froze.
"The Devil's Triangle…" he murmured. "That cursed sea."
He knew it well a place where ships vanished without a trace, swallowed by eternal fog.
If Brook truly lingered there, it would explain everything.
"In that case," Ron said with an easy smile, "it seems fate has chosen me for the task."
He rested a hand on his sword hilt.
"That region lies on my course. When I reach it, I'll bring Brook back so he can see Laboon again."
Crocus's weathered face broke into a rare smile, full of gratitude.
"Thank you… thank you, young man. For an old fool like me, that means the world."
Ron waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing. Just a promise between travelers."
His gaze drifted out the window, toward the whale resting peacefully in the waves.
"Though," he added softly, "I think you're mistaken about one thing."
Crocus turned to him, puzzled.
"Oh?"
Ron's eyes gleamed with quiet insight.
"In my opinion… the most important companion in Laboon's life isn't the Rumbar Pirates."
Crocus, Nami, and Nojiko all looked at him in surprise.
Their voices overlapped in the same question
"Then who is it?"
--------------
Access 30 chapters in advance on my P@treon: [email protected]/OneFic