The days melted into months. Seasons turned. The boys grew — leaner, louder, smarter.
Vihaan, now nearly fourteen, was a shadow and a storm.
Luffy, thirteen and still grinning like a fool, was chaos wrapped in sun.
Their brotherhood had only deepened with time — the kind forged through bloodied knuckles, stolen meals, and whispered conversations under starlight. They were no longer just wild boys of Foosha. They were training.
Garp, who'd taken a brief hiatus from throwing cannonballs at their heads, had left them with strict instructions.
"Get strong. Or die."
Vihaan muttered under his breath, "Classic motivational speech."
Luffy laughed. "He's so cool!"
Vihaan gave him a look. "You say that about people who punch you in the face."
"I only say that if they hit hard!"
They trained in the mountains now — a few hours' hike beyond the village, where wild boars and rogue monkeys weren't rare.
Vihaan had taken a different approach to training than Luffy. Where Luffy's fists learned through experience, Vihaan's mind learned through reflection. He had studied old books Makino kept behind the bar, deciphered old martial arts forms, and began practicing something fluid — elegant yet lethal.
His strikes were fast. Too fast for a boy his age. His dodges came not from speed but from anticipation.
"Stop dodging!" Luffy yelled, throwing a haymaker.
Vihaan leaned back just enough to let Luffy's fist pass harmlessly.
"If I stopped dodging, you'd knock my teeth out."
"That's the point!"
"You're the only idiot I know who trains by punching friends."
They collapsed on the grass, both panting.
"I'm gonna be strong enough to fight a sea king," Luffy declared, sweat pouring down his neck.
Vihaan turned his gaze skyward. "I want to be sharp enough to read an enemy before they strike."
"You always sound like you're writing a book."
"You always sound like a drumstick learned to talk."
Luffy laughed so hard he nearly choked.
Vihaan's pendant — the cracked, silver-rimmed mirror — had started glowing in the moonlight. Just faintly. He hadn't told Luffy.
One night, around his fourteenth birthday, he sat alone at the edge of the mountain cliffs. The pendant hummed in his hand. He stared into it.
Then, without knowing why, he whispered:
"Reflect."
The air rippled. Reality bent.
For a second, his shadow rose in front of him — exactly him — and mimicked his every move… then vanished.
He froze.
Heart pounding.
He whispered again, "Reflect."
Nothing.
He didn't sleep that night.
The next week, he went back to that cliff.
This time, he didn't whisper. He thought it.
Reflect.
The mirror pendant glowed — and out of his shadow came another him.
A perfect copy.
It stood. Blinked. Looked at him. It smirked.
Then… it moved.
Independent.
Vihaan jumped back, startled.
It copied his fighting stance — then lunged.
They clashed.
The fight was a blur — his own moves used against him. It lasted only twenty seconds before he landed a spin-kick through the copy's ribcage and it dispersed like smoke.
He collapsed to his knees, breathing hard, eyes wide.
His Devil Fruit.
He didn't remember eating one. He didn't remember anything before Foosha.
But the power was there. Real. Deep.
The Kagami Kagami no Mi.The Mirror-Mirror Fruit.
He could reflect things — not just light and image, but essence.
Shadows. Emotions. Even actions.
But it came at a price.
It drained his stamina heavily. The stronger the reflection, the more of his will it ate.
He told no one.
Not yet.
Not even Luffy.
Meanwhile, Luffy had gotten stronger too.
He could now stretch across trees, bounce off cliffs, and land punches that knocked bears unconscious. He was still impulsive — still dumb as hell when it came to maps or logic — but his spirit was fierce.
They sparred often, both holding back just enough not to hurt each other badly.
"You're hiding something," Luffy said one day, their hands locked in a training match.
Vihaan raised a brow. "What makes you think that?"
Luffy shrugged. "You twitch when you lie."
Vihaan scoffed, pushing him off. "You wouldn't know a lie if it bit you."
"Maybe not. But I know you."
Vihaan hesitated.
Then smiled softly. "Soon."
At fifteen, Vihaan began wandering to the edge of the island during twilight.
Foosha was small. The sea was not.
He found himself staring out more often. Longing. Remembering nothing, but feeling everything.
Makino noticed. "You've grown up," she said gently, handing him a cup of warm tea.
He glanced up from his usual rooftop spot. "I guess."
"You're not restless. You're ready."
Vihaan looked at her. "What if I find something I don't like?"
Makino smiled. "Then leave it behind."
He looked down into the tea, swirling the surface. His reflection stared back.
"Luffy's gonna go soon."
"I know."
"I'm going with him."
"I know that too."
He looked up. "Are you scared for us?"
She reached up, brushed a lock of hair from his face.
"No," she said. "I'm proud."
And then, one hot summer day, they stood at the docks.
Vihaan had a small pack slung over his shoulder. A black coat fluttered at his back, though it wasn't fastened. His pendant glowed faintly against his chest.
Luffy had his hat — the treasured straw hat — tilted over his eyes.
They stood side-by-side, both grinning.
A new raft — larger, stronger, built with care — bobbed in the shallow tide.
"Still think we'll die?" Luffy asked.
"Absolutely," Vihaan said. "But stylishly."
Makino waved from the bar's porch. "Don't forget to brush your teeth!"
Luffy: "NO PROMISES!"
Vihaan laughed. "I'll pack him a toothbrush."
They pushed off.
As the wind caught their sail, Luffy whooped, fist raised.
"TO THE GRAND LINE!"
Vihaan smirked beside him. "To the truth."
And so the sea opened to them — wild, wide, waiting.
The brothers were ready.
Together, co-captains.
The world would never be the same.