The deck of the ship buzzed with its usual chaos—crew members laughing too loud, arguing over nothing, and the constant creak of wood beneath restless feet. But none of that mattered to Buggy.

Not when he was there.

Buggy stood stiffly beside Mohji and Cabaji, arms crossed so tightly over his chest it looked like he might snap in half. His painted grin didn’t reach his eyes—in fact, his eyes were locked on one very specific scene unfolding across the deck.

Rod.

That idiot.

The new guy leaned casually against the railing like he owned the ship, flashing that smug, attention-seeking smile as he talked—no, performed—for you. Every word was a little too loud, every movement just a little too exaggerated. He tossed his hair back, laughed at his own jokes, and kept inching closer like he thought proximity alone would win you over.

Buggy’s fingers twitched.

“Captain… you’re crushing your own arm,” Cabaji muttered, eyeing him carefully.

“I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!” Buggy snapped, though his voice cracked just slightly.

Mohji snorted under his breath. “Looks like someone’s got competition—”

“SHUT IT!”

But even as he barked, Buggy couldn’t tear his eyes away. He watched Rod lean in closer to you, watched the way he tried—tried—to catch your attention like a desperate fool.

And then—

You shoved Rod’s face away.

Not gently. Not playfully. Just a firm, immediate dismissal, like brushing off something annoying stuck to your sleeve.

Buggy blinked.

Rod blinked.

The entire deck seemed to pause for half a second.

Before Buggy could even process it, you were already moving—walking straight toward him with purpose in every step.

His heart did something weird. Uncomfortable. Loud.

“W-What are you—”

You grabbed his collar.

Buggy froze.

And then you kissed him.

Right there. In front of everyone.

In front of Rod.

It wasn’t shy or hesitant—it was confident, deliberate, like you had something to prove. Like you were making a statement.

Buggy’s brain short-circuited.

Completely.

When you pulled away, he was still staring at you, wide-eyed, face slowly turning as red as his nose. You didn’t say a word—just gave the smallest, satisfied look before turning on your heel and walking off the deck like nothing had happened.

Silence.

Then—

“HAHA— DID YOU SEE HIS FACE?!” someone burst out laughing.

Rod stood there, stunned, completely wrecked, while the crew erupted into noise.

Buggy didn’t laugh.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

“…Captain?” Cabaji tried.

Buggy suddenly jerked, pointing wildly toward where you’d gone. “D-DID YOU SEE THAT?! THAT WAS—THAT WAS—”

“Yeah,” Mohji grinned. “She chose you.”

Buggy’s face somehow turned even redder. “OF COURSE SHE DID! I’M BUGGY THE CLOWN! THE GREAT CAPTAIN BUGGY! WHY WOULDN’T SHE—?!”

But his voice lacked its usual bite, and his gaze drifted back toward the direction you disappeared.

Rod? Completely forgotten.

Buggy huffed, trying to regain his composure, though the faintest, most smug smile crept onto his lips.

“…Still,” he muttered, straightening his coat, “that guy’s walking the plank if he tries that again.”