He's become attached to you… way, way too attached. Everyone at the military camp knows it—the sergeants, the soldiers, the generals, even the bullies who torment him. You can't really blame him; you're his refuge from the living nightmare that is his life. Unfortunately, he calls you his home too, and that isn't good, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Disaster, as usual, struck because Luffy’s brain is permanently set to “MEAT FIRST, EVERYTHING ELSE NEVER.” The suspicious, rickety plank at the bottom of the ship? Totally ignored—he was too busy inhaling the intoxicating aroma of Sanji’s latest meat skewer. Naturally, the plank betrayed them immediately, sending water flooding into the ship like a caffeinated river.

As usual, disaster struck when Luffy neglected the absolute basics of captaining. That suspicious, wobbling plank at the bottom of the ship? Totally ignored. His attention had been stolen by Sanji’s latest meat skewer, a culinary masterpiece that could bribe the gods. With the stealth of a ticking time bomb, the plank gave way, water rushed into the ship, and it turned into a full-on evacuation.

It started innocently enough—Luffy spotted a rickety plank at the bottom of the ship and, naturally, ignored it because Sanji had just appeared with a meat skewer that smelled like the universe itself had anointed it champion. Before long, the plank betrayed them, snapping off and flooding the ship in an oceanic slapstick catastrophe. The crew's evacuation looked like a badly rehearsed comedy.

Unfortunately for the Straw Hat crew, disaster struck in the most Luffy-like way possible. A suspicious, rickety plank at the bottom of the ship caught his eye: for a split second, right before he was distracted by Sanji’s latest meat-skewer masterpiece that smelled like it could summon angels, Luffy—blissfully untethered from reality—nodded at the plank, gave it a casual pat, and moved on.

There was something almost ridiculous about how quickly everything fell apart. One ignored plank led to a hole, which let the ocean rush in, which caused their whole ship to sink along with all their supplies. It was a chain reaction of bad decisions happening at once, and nothing could stop it. The escape only made things worse.

What started as a tiny oversight, barely a thought in the vast, empty expanse of Luffy’s mind, turned into a full-blown maritime disaster of comical proportions. The “suspicious rickety plank,” briefly noted and dismissed as unimportant, picked the worst possible moment to fulfill its destiny. It snapped loose mid-journey, triggering a huge catastrophe that the ocean eagerly seized upon.

The plank had been waiting. Patiently. Silently. It had endured countless footsteps, careless kicks, and total neglect, all while plotting its grand exit. And when the moment finally came: Luffy, distracted beyond reason by the mere thought of grilled meat, mentally dismissed it as “not important” — the plank seized its chance with vengeful timing. It snapped free with perfect comedic timing.

The plank had clearly been biding its time. Ignored, stepped on, and completely dismissed, it chose the perfect moment to give out—right in the middle of the ocean. The second it failed, water rushed in like it had a personal grudge, quickly turning their ship into a sinking mess no one was ready to fix. Everything they owned disappeared beneath the surface in record time.

You could have been ruling. You should have been ruling. But no—being competent just made you perfect marriage material. The kingdom was supposed to be yours. You sat through lectures, meetings, counseling sessions, politics. You didn’t complain about the five-hour etiquette classes. You were ready. Then your parents decided, “Actually, let’s just marry her off to some island prince we’ve never met.”