A Battle of Flames and Ice
A battle between two overwhelming forces was unfolding atop the calm, cerulean sea.
On one side stood Admiral Aokiji, master of the Hie Hie no Mi. Beneath his feet, the ocean had frozen solid, stretching outward into a shimmering white field. Thin trails of frost coiled silently around his right wrist, the temperature dropping with each breath he took.
Opposite him hovered Hayden, his body supported by condensed spirit particles in the air, standing without effort above the water's surface. In his hand was Ryūjin Jakka, the most ancient and powerful Zanpakutō of flame. Its tip hovered mere centimeters from the sea, hissing and steaming as droplets evaporated on contact, casting sparks and wisps of white mist into the air.
The tension between them surged like an invisible tide.
They locked eyes—two powerhouses from different worlds, each aware that the slightest lapse would mean defeat.
The spiritual pressure and freezing chill clashed in the air, and then—
The still ocean burst into white waves of energy
________
"Wake up, pervert..."
A voice snapped Hayden back to reality.
He blinked and rubbed his eyes groggily, trying to piece together what had just happened.
Standing in front of him was Nico Robin, hand raised, palm hovering near his face as if she'd just tried to slap him awake.
"It's Robin-chan…" Hayden muttered weakly.
He had been in this world for three days already. Nestled in the crook of his arm was a strange, rod with a plain, white hilt and a short chain dangling from its pommel—his Asauchi, the nameless form of a Zanpakutō.
Letting out a sigh, he sat up from the hammock strung between two trees, carefully leaning the rod against the trunk beside him.
Three Days Ago...
He had returned home after another exhausting day of hauling bricks for a living. Seeking comfort, he eased into his bathtub, warm and fragrant with soap and steam. Eyes closed, mind drifting...
Then, everything changed in a blink.
The next moment, Hayden found himself in an unfamiliar bath—stone walls, a rustic wooden window, and a tub that definitely wasn't his.
What shocked him most wasn't the setting.
It was the two small hands that suddenly sprouted from his own shoulders, delicate and strange, like human blossoms unfolding.
A faint floral scent filled the air, almost magical. He stared at the tiny arms growing from his body, frozen in disbelief.
Then one hand darted for his neck, gripping it lightly, while the other slipped beneath the surface.
Panic surged, but he didn't dare move.
A calm, youthful voice spoke from behind.
"Name. How did you get in?"
It was soft, precise—clearly a child's, but commanding.
"M-my name is Hayden…" he stammered instinctively.
"Next."
Blinking, Hayden realized something was very wrong. The walls, the scent, the voice… this wasn't his home.
In front of him stood a young girl in a crimson dress. Her black hair was damp from bathing, clinging slightly to her cheeks.
Hayden turned to examine himself and froze.
Why does my voice sound younger?
Why are my hands… so small?
He ignored the hand still poking out from his shoulder and looked down through the bubbles.
"I've… turned into a kid?!"
The scream that followed echoed through the bathhouse.
Present Day
Now seated at a dining table on the first floor of her aunt's house, Hayden picked at a modest meal beside Robin.
He had a twisted expression on his face, a bath towel wrapped tightly around his small body. Sitting on a chair at the dining table, his legs were clenched together, and his short feet dangled in the air, swinging from time to time.
The culprit who had "poisoned" Hayden sat calmly on the chair next to him, as if she hadn't done anything unusual just moments ago.
Just now, under Robin's pressure, the clever Hayden had reluctantly spun a reason convincing enough to appease her. After all, this was a world full of strange phenomena. To his relief, Robin didn't seem to find anything particularly odd about him—just a harmless child. So, she let him live.
From that brief conversation, Hayden had gleaned some useful information—not only where he was, but also the name of the girl before him: Nico Robin.
Nico Robin—he knew her well from the manga One Piece. A future crewmate of the Straw Hat Pirates, an archaeologist who had earned her title at just eight years old. She had eaten the Hana Hana no Mi, the Flower-Flower Fruit, and become its user.
Hayden was aware that Robin had a quiet, somewhat dark personality in the manga—but he hadn't expected her to be this intimidating even as a child.
He didn't know what to say. It was uncomfortable, humiliating, and frankly absurd.
But the two small hands that had sprouted from his chest earlier were proof enough—undeniable evidence of her Devil Fruit power.
Knock, knock, knock!
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the wooden door not far from the dining table.
"Robin! Open the door, now!" barked a sharp, sarcastic voice from outside.
Robin's aunt—she was home.
The stoic calm Robin had maintained all along evaporated in an instant. Panic flashed across her face. Her small body jumped down from the chair as she lowered her voice in urgency.
"Pervert, hurry, you have to go!"
"Wait—hey!" Hayden hissed, startled, as Robin tugged him off the chair. "I don't have any clothes on… Robin!" he added in a frantic whisper, realizing the gravity of the situation.
No one knew him in this world, true—but he couldn't just dash out into the streets completely naked.
Robin paused, her brow furrowed in thought. Then, as if something clicked, she grabbed his hand again.
"Pervert, come with me," she said flatly, dragging him along without letting go.
"I—!"
To be honest, Hayden didn't stand a chance. Robin, who had eaten the Hana Hana no Mi at a young age, was already well-practiced in using it. Her grip was deceptively strong.
He had no choice but to be pulled along.
Up on the second floor, Robin led him into her room. It was dim and small, clearly modest, but the bed and the area around it were surprisingly tidy.
Robin rummaged through a wooden box beside the bed and pulled out a gray long skirt. Turning around, she handed it to Hayden.
"Pervert, wear this."
Hayden stared at the garment, stunned. Three giant question marks practically floated above his head.
"…Isn't this your dress?" he blurted. "No way—I'm not wearing that!" He refused immediately. A boy in a girl's dress? No chance.
...
Later that evening, the sky was awash in the orange hues of sunset.
Hayden, now awkwardly tucked into Robin's old skirt, walked behind her through the town streets. Robin led the way, holding a large piece of bread in her arms.
People were returning from work, buying groceries, and chatting with neighbors. The town was full of life.
But strangely, as Robin and Hayden passed, the townspeople parted like water around a rock. No one dared walk too close. Wherever Robin went, a quiet circle of space followed her—a vacuum of cold shoulders and fearful glances.
Hayden, still hiding in Robin's skirt, quickly noticed the phenomenon.
He hadn't expected this level of rejection. Just because Robin had a power others didn't understand, they treated her like a pariah.
Walking behind her, he looked up at her small back, her calm, expressionless face.
To her, this was just another day.
This… was normal.