Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey babe, why don’t you come back to my place tonight?”

“Not in a million years.”

“My darling, your beauty dwarfs even that of Aphrodite herself!”

“Leave me alone, Sanji.”

“Damn, you’re hot. I got plenty of room in my back seat, if you know-”

“Gross.”

“If you would simply grace me with your company for one, solitary evening, I would-”

“Sanji, fuck off!”

“Goddamn, titties that big and an ass like that? What was your momma feedin’ ya?”

“Oh my god, what is wrong with you?!”

“My dear, I made you-”

“I SAID FUCK OFF, SANJI!”

Slamming the classroom door shut, a scream of pure frustration bubbled free from her chest. Her body trembled with rage, heat building up inside her. With another outburst of fury, she slammed her bag to the floor and threw herself into a seat. She needed to be off her feet.

Planting her head in her hands, Nami let out a weary groan. “Why won’t they just leave me alone?” she said to the empty room. She knew the answer, but she was venting. She was a very attractive girl. End of statement. Horny teenage boys would never leave her alone, no matter what she did. If she told them off, she’s just playing hard to get. If she let them down easy, then she’s stringing them along. If she humored them, and she would never actually do anything with them, then she's a lying bitch. She had tried telling them she was gay, but they either saw through the lie or figured they could turn her straight. She couldn't win.

Nami sighed, burying her face deeper into her hands. “What am I going to do?” she sighed. Squinting her eyes shut, she did her best to focus on problem-solving. As far as she could tell, she had three options. 1. Grin and bear it. It wasn't ideal, but it had worked so far. Only at the cost of her sanity. 2. Loudly and publicly declare her refusal to date and/or sleep with any of the boys in school. It would deal a hefty blow to her already poor social standing, but it could be worth it in the long run. Or 3. Give in. Choose the least worst option of her herd of suitors and bite the metaphorical bullet.

Hell no.

She had neither the time, desire, nor patience to deal with any of these pigs. Nami was a girl on the go, and she wasn't about to chain herself down to be some idiot’s prize. She grimaced as she unwillingly let the roaming gossip flood her mind.

‘Nami’s never had a boyfriend before. Virgin girls are so easy, I'm tellin’ ya.’

‘She never has a boyfriend because she can't tie herself down to just one man. She's super easy.’

‘Nami? That skank? You think she'd be happy with all the attention, but noooo. She's got every guy in school tripping over themselves to get with her. She's such a slut.’

“GAAAAAAAH, THIS SUUUUUCKS!” Nami groaned, planting her forehead on the desk. If only she could have a boyfriend without the whole “having a boyfriend” thing. Maybe the creeps would leave her alone, and she wouldn't have to worry about any of the relationship stuff. She could keep doing her own thing but so much more peacefully. If only…

“Hey, do you need help?”

“JESUS!” Nami shrieked, whirling around in her seat. There on the floor, behind the rows of desks, was a young man. His hair was dark and messy, and he had a small scar below his worried eyes. Though he was expressing concern, he made no move to get up from the floor. Nami knew exactly who he was. Who else in school wore a big straw hat every single day?

“Luffy, what are you doing here?” she asked, now more annoyed than surprised.

“What are you doing here?” he returned the question, his eyes shifting from concerned to cheerful like nothing had happened.

“It's a classroom. I'm allowed to be here,” Nami frowned. “Answer the question. What are you doing on the floor?”

“Oh, so I tweaked something in my back yesterday, I dunno what,” the boy began his explanation, his mouth moving at a mile a minute. “The floor over here has like, a bump in it, and if you lie on it just right, it feels greeeeaaaat.” He emphasized his point by stretching himself out further, his spine grinding against the linoleum. He rambled on and on, as he always did.

Luffy was an oddity if Nami was being polite. Loud, energetic, obnoxiously cheerful. He was everything Nami wasn't. Where she was withdrawn and sullen, he was outgoing and joyful. Naturally, they tended not to run in the same circles. Mostly because Nami didn't run in any circles. She kept to herself. Her only notable social interactions were all the wannabe pickup artists trying to get into her pants.

But here he was, relaxing in a classroom while she was stressing out. Nami sighed. Sure. Whatever. She started gathering her things, some having scattered from her bag when she slammed it down earlier. She was not going to sit there and lament her boy troubles with this obnoxious boy around…

Hang on.

She could work with this.

Perhaps what she had been hoping for had miraculously fallen out of the sky right in front of her. She looked him over, giving the boy a more appraising eye. He wore a worn pair of jean shorts and a red tank top. His arms were by his side as he wriggled around, trying to find the right spot on the floor. She had always thought he was skinny, but it looked like he actually had a bit of muscle to him.

Taking a closer look at his face, Nami was surprised to find that he was actually kind of good-looking. In a dumb idiot sort of way. She thought about it. The two of them. Not anything for real, but he could be a useful shield. A fake boyfriend to drive the rest of them away. It… it wasn't the worst idea she had ever come up with. It was worth a shot, at least.

“Hey, Luffy,” she thought it best to approach this delicately. “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”

“No, why would I?” he asked, sitting up from the floor.

Keep digging. “Any particular reason for that?” she asked, excitement slowly building up within her.

“Not really…” Luffy scratched his cheek, pondering. Or whatever his version of pondering was. “Just never really felt like it, you know?”

“Right…” Nami almost had him. She just needed the right bait. “Do uh… do your friends ever make fun of you for never having a girlfriend?”

“Oh man, all the time!” Luffy frowned. “My brothers too!” He crossed his arms with a huff. “Everyone's always treating me like a little kid cause of it!”

Gotcha.

“I know what you mean,” Nami sighed. “People are always hounding me to get a boyfriend. I wish I could just get one already…” She left the statement intentionally open-ended.

“Yeah, that'd be great.” Luffy was on his feet now but made no moves to approach her.

Letting the unspoken question hang in the air for a moment, Nami frowned when he didn't take the hint. “But I don't want to actually do anything with one. Do you know what I mean?”

“Totally!” Luffy said, hopping up onto some desks that he had pushed together. He laid his head down on his backpack, hands behind his head. He grinned heartily as he said, “I wouldn't even know where to begin with a girlfriend!” His grin faltered for a moment as he tried to adjust his head. His big straw hat wasn't allowing him to lay back properly, the brim awkwardly pushing up against his backpack. With a shrug, he slipped it off his head, resting it atop his stomach. His grin returned like nothing had happened.

Nami propped her head up with one hand as she tried to control her anger in the face of this annoyingly dumb boy. She was going to have to be the one to propose it, wasn't she? She had hoped she could lead him into asking, but he was just too dumb to figure it out, even when she made it obvious. She wasn't going to be able to spare herself the shame of asking:

“Luffy, what do you say we make ourselves a little arrangement?” she asked, hesitant. Wary.

“What's an arraignment?” he asked, picking at wax in his ear.

“No, it's arrange- never mind,” Nami squeezed her eyes shut, preventing an oncoming stress headache. She put her hands up, gesturing to herself. “I need guys to stop asking me out all the time.” She gestured to him. “You need your friends to stop teasing you.” She paused, waiting for him to catch up. Luffy nodded, but it appeared that his brain refused to allow him to think further ahead than the moment he existed in.

“I think,” Nami said through gritted teeth. “That we can help each other.”

Luffy pointed at her. “So you do need help!” he beamed.

Nami couldn't help it. She pulled back. “What does that mean?” she asked.

“What does what mean?” Luffy asked, propping himself up on his elbows. He put his hat back on his head with a confused look on his face, “You do need help, yeah?”

“What do you want?” Nami asked. This was supposed to be a mutual agreement. Quid pro quo. Both of them getting what they wanted out of the other, no one owing anyone anything. Nothing in life was free. But now he had leverage. He knew that she needed this more than him. And he was going to ask for more. She knew it. She just had to brace herself for the other shoe to drop.

“What do I want? For helping you?” Luffy asked, his confusion only deepening. “I don't need anything to help you!”

“Everyone-” she paused, reconsidering her words. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. If he was going to be dumb enough to offer assistance for free, then she would take full advantage of his naive generosity. And whenever his ulterior motive reared its head, she would drop him like a bad habit. “Sure. Fine. I help you, you help me,” she said curtly. “You tell people I'm your girlfriend so they leave you alone, I tell people you're my boyfriend so they leave me alone.”

Luffy suddenly frowned and shimmied a little farther away from her. “Are you asking me out?” He didn't sound happy.

“No, idiot!” Nami barked. “We're not doing this for real!”

“Ooooh, I get it,” Luffy sat up again, scratching his chin. “But I'm not very good at lying.”

“Leave most of that to me,” said the redhead. “Don't bring it up unless someone asks. I'll handle the rest." She frowned again, giving him another once-over. He was an idiot. She couldn't trust him not to run his mouth and ruin everything. She had to make sure he could handle himself under pressure.

“Before we do this, I need an assurance,” she said, crossing her arms.

“You need insurance?” Luffy cocked his head.

"Sure," Nami didn't even bat an eye and carried on. And, in a way, he wasn't wrong. “Most people will be fine to hear a name and will leave it at that. Some of them are going to push for more. They're going to want to know when we met. Why we started dating. What you like about me. Still following me?” The boy nodded. “Good. We can worry about the other two later, so let's focus on the last one.” For her own sake. “What do you like about me?”

“Hmmm…” Luffy's eyes drifted off as the hamster wheel within his skull began to spin. Nami gritted her teeth. It was frustrating that he had to stop and think of what her good points were. But it was their first real conversation, so she couldn't fully blame him.

“Well, you're really smart,” Luffy finally said, just as Nami was about to get on his case. “You came up with this whole plan, after all!” He beamed at her. It was a spur of the moment thing, but she would take the incorrectly correct compliment.

“Uh… Most of the girls in school are either mean or weird to me,” he continued. “But you've always been nice!” Had she? She hadn't ever gone out of her way to do anything nice for anyone, really. As far as she could remember, she had always treated Luffy with indifference. Or annoyance if he got too loud. She supposed different people had different metrics for niceties.

“Oh, and I've seen some of the stuff you've drawn for art class! You're really good!” Luffy's eyes lit up as he recalled her various projects. Nami blinked at that. Art was one of the few pleasures she had in life. Mostly, she kept it to herself, but there were a few that she had to submit for class. But apparently, Monkey Boy had gotten his eyes on them. And liked them. Nami had to clear her throat to cover up the oncoming wave of embarrassment.

Well, that was about as good a list of likes as he could have presented. All of them about her mind or skills, and not a single one about her looks. A+, way to go. She opened her mouth to speak, but he kept going.

“Oh, and your hair is really pretty!” Luffy grinned, staring straight into her eyes. “I've never seen any that color before! I really like it!”

Okay, one thing about her looks. But it was her hair and not her body, so only a few points off. A-, B+. Still good.

“Alright, good,” Nami nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Remember those.” She pulled out her phone, quickly pulling up her contacts. She turned her chair, now facing the boy. “Give me your number.”

Luffy hopped off the desks and fished his own phone out of his pocket. He paused, looking at it for a moment before breaking out into another grin. “Hey look,” he said, placing it alongside hers. “We match!”

Nami frowned. “What are you-?” Both of their phones were cracked. Hers from years of use and both an inability and unwillingness to replace it. His likely from whatever wacky bullshit he got up to one day. But the cracks down the glass were nearly symmetrical. Both began on one edge, slightly above center. Both arched upwards and swooped back down to the same edge. Together, it looked quite similar to a hear-

“Who cares?” Nami said a little too quickly. She copied Luffy's number down and sent him a text. “That's my address. Meet me there tomorrow. Bring a few changes of clothes.”

“Why?” Luffy cocked his head as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Because I said so!” Nami snapped. “Do you want this to work or not?”

“I guess…” the boy flicked at a tuft of hair sticking out from under his hat.

“Then listen to me and do what I say,” she didn't leave any room for argument. Putting her own phone away, she rose from her chair with a clatter and marched towards the door in a huff.

“Hang on!” Luffy shouted to her as she walked away. “Isn't it your turn?”

“My turn for what?” Nami glared at him. She was already beginning to regret this.

“Don't you have to say what you like about me?” There wasn’t any malice or mischief in his words. He wasn’t teasing or goading her into giving him a compliment. He earnestly wanted his own assurance. Or insurance. Or whatever was going on in that empty head of his.

Nami’s bag banged against a desk as she collapsed to her elbows, clutching her head. “Uuuuuuuugh,” she groaned.

Luffy lurched forward, his hand outstretched. “Are you okay?” he cried, his concern returning.

She shot her hand out to stop him. “I’m fine, just…” she groaned again. “I need to think…”

“Oh yeah,” Luffy pulled his hand back with a laugh. “Thinking makes my head hurt too!”

“Shut uuuuuup…” Nami clenched her eyes shut, hoping that blindness would deafen her as well. Her mind raced, scanning over the scant few memories she had involving her pseudo-beau. All the times he caused a ruckus in the cafeteria, either through goofing around or his colossal appetite. And the antics he got up to with those kids Usopp and Chopper. And that time he made those dumb faces at her from across the room. And-

“You make me laugh.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had the chance to think of them. Startled at herself, she abruptly rose to her feet. Where had that come from? Luffy didn’t make her laugh! Did he? She hardly knew him at all! Whatever, she wasn’t dealing with this now.

But just as she turned to leave, she could hear the grin in Luffy’s voice as he said, “Really? Cool!” No judgement. No shame. Just a pure and simple acceptance of a compliment.

She didn’t turn back to face him. “Tomorrow. My place. Noon. Don’t forget,” she said towards the door. Heat was rising to her cheeks. What the hell was going on? Nami didn’t know, but she knew she had to get out of there. Maybe this was a mistake, after all.

For half a second, she thought about calling it off. About walking away and pretending like nothing happened. But the rational, pragmatic part of her brain told her this would be worth it in the long run. It’s not like they were actually dating. He was simply a convenient shield for her to hide behind. A safeguard against troubles she couldn’t handle herself. Someone that she could trus-

No.

Nami was many things. A liar first among them. But she was not a trusting person. Not for anyone, and certainly not for the hyperactive kid from school. She slung her bag over her shoulder and stomped out of the room.

Ten years ago, Nami’s heart had been encased by layer upon layer of ice. Nothing and no one had gotten that to change for more than half her life. But here, now, even as she steeled herself against them, the words he spoke and the surprising feelings she felt echoed in her mind. She was smart. She was kind. She was talented. She was pretty. He made her laugh.

And the first of many cracks in that ice had begun to form.

Chapter Text

“He's late.”

Of course he was. She had never heard of anyone who was able to rely on this Luffy kid. Why did she think she was suddenly going to be the exception? Tapping her heel impatiently, she checked the time once more. 12:56. She had been waiting for almost a whole hour.

This whole thing was a mistake. She knew it in the classroom, and she certainly knew it now. She had made an impulsive decision, and it had cost her. Well, it had only cost her the first half of a Saturday, but that was still time she couldn't get back.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Nami's eyes were practically burning a hole through the front door. As if she would be able to see him coming. So that she could tear him a new one for leaving her waiting. If this was how their “relationship” was starting off, she had exceedingly poor hopes for their “future.”

“You know, you really need to stop grinding your teeth,” came a voice from behind her. “It's a bad habit to get into.”

Nami didn't turn to address the source. With her eyes still locked on the front door, she asked her older sister, “Aren't you supposed to be at work already?”

Nojiko sat down next to her sister. “I've got no reservations today, and any walk-ins can wait a little longer for their ink,” she said with a teasing grin. She planted her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm. “So, just what has you in such a tizzy?”

“Nothing,” Nami frowned. “Go to work.”

“Sadly, I cannot,” her older sister pouted. “I'm afraid my hands are far too jittery to hold my gun. I could really hurt someone. If only a certain beautiful, lovely, intelligent girl such as my adorable little sister could alleviate my woes…”

“Flattery's not going to help,” Nami deadpanned.

Nojiko clicked her tongue in annoyance, “It usually does.” Leaning closer, she poked and prodded further, both metaphorically and physically. Her finger jabbed into Nami's shoulder as she asked, “Come on, tell me! What, is it a boy?” Nami's frown deepened. Nojiko gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my god, it is!”

Clasping her sister's hands, Nojiko asked a million questions at light speed. “Is he cute? How long have you been going out? Does he have an older brother?” Nami whipped her head around to chew out her sister, but she was saved by the bell.

Or, the hammering on the door. Nami's head snapped back the other way, nearly giving herself whiplash. But rather than joy, only a renewed sense of annoyance surged through her. The knocking was incessant. Impatient. Lurching to her feet, she marched to the door, yanking it open.

There he was. Big, dumb hat over his big, dumb, goofy grin. A grin that widened at the sight of her. A bulging sack was slung over his shoulder. So he could follow one set of instructions, at least.

“You're late,” Nami said, crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry," Luffy admitted, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. “I got lost, and there was a big dog, and-”

“I don't care, just get inside,” Nami grabbed his free arm and tugged him into the house.

And nearly made him bump into Nojiko. “Hi there, cutie,” she said. “I'm-”

“Leaving,” Nami said as she shoved her sister out the door.

Not missing a step, Nojiko spun on her heel and waved goodbye. “Have fun, you two!” she cried. “Wear a condom!”

“IT'S A PROJECT FOR HISTORY CLASS!” Nami shouted as she slammed the door. Planting her fists and forehead against the door, she took a minute to settle herself. Once her breathing had settled, she turned around to face her pseudo-boyfriend.

Only to find him sweating and shaking. Terror in his eyes, darting this way and that. “What now?” Nami sighed.

“We have a project for history class?” Luffy asked, panicking.

Nami rubbed the bridge of her nose. This was the guy she was going to tell everyone she was dating? Ugh. She really knew how to pick ‘em. “No,” she said through clenched teeth. “That was a lie to get my sister off my back.” She spoke every syllable clearly and succinctly.

The visible relief that coursed through Luffy's body. “Ooooh… oh good,” he sighed. “Oh man, I thought I was in big trouble there!”

“You will be, if you keep wasting time!” Nami snapped. She gestured to the burlap lump he had let slump onto the floor. “Did you bring clothes like I asked?”

“Yup!” Luffy beamed at her. He hoisted the sack back up. “This is pretty much everything I've got!” Not a whole lot of variety if he could fit his entire wardrobe into one bag, but Nami was judgmental, not picky.

“Good enough,” she said. “This way.” Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and marched down the hallway. Luffy followed behind, his head swinging this way and that as he took in his new environment.

Nami's house was modest, to say the least. The paint on the walls was cracked here and there. A few of them were adorned with holes, big and small. The hardwood floors creaked with every step, giving a perilous feeling of the floor falling out from under you at any given moment. The air was stifling. Ventilation was poor.

It would be a rough place to live, were it not for the girls who did. The heavy furniture exuded a rustic charm. Hand-carved where need be. Decorations adorned the walls, covering whatever larger wear they could not bear to display. The house was beautifully adorned with art from a variety of styles. Pencil sketches, oil paintings, watercolors, and sculptures on shelves. Incense burned on a countertop, lightening the air.

These two girls had taken this run-down house and turned it into a home.

As they reached the end of the hallway, Luffy stopped to see three doors. Two on the right and one on the left. One of those on the right was open. Glancing inside, he could see a good deal of framed drawings on the wall. Lots of intricate designs.

“I always tell her to keep her door shut, but she never listens,” Nami said to herself, closing her sister’s bedroom door.

Looking between the two remaining rooms, Luffy chose the one on the left. As he reached for the knob, Nami moved with lightning speed, snatching him by the wrist. She wasn't angry, at least not outwardly. All she said was, “This one,” and pulled him through the second door on the right.

It was a small room. Cozy. Sparse. A bed with a thick, fluffy comforter. A workspace brimming with an array of art supplies. Art on the walls, but fewer than in her sister's room. All of them were sketches of various buildings. Mostly houses. Several apartment complexes. One high-rise.

Luffy glanced from one to another while Nami fiddled with the curtains. “So, uh,” he tried to make even the tiniest morsel of small talk. “You like… buildings?”

She shook her head slightly, caught off guard by the wide swing of that question. “No- What?” she asked, her brain taking its time to catch up.

He pointed to the drawings lining the walls around them. “Then why those?”

Nami's eyes followed his finger. "Oh, those," she composed herself. “They were just sketch practice. Perspective, and lighting, and all that. It's easier than people-watching. They don't move. Or get in your face if you stare at them for too long.”

“Ooh, neat!” Luffy's smile should have been infectious. It usually was. But Nami's shell was considerably hard to break through. She might have lightened up a bit, but it was hard to tell.

She grabbed her phone off the desk where she had left it. There was an unread message waiting for her. Opening it, she saw it had come from her “boyfriend”.

‘Sorry, running late,’ it read. ‘But check out this cool dog!’ Attached was a photo of Luffy laughing as a big, fluffy dog playfully tried to chomp on his fingers. If she had had her phone with her while she was waiting, she would at least have known he was still on his way. She wouldn't have gotten so angry about it.

She was always so angry.

Nami sighed, closing her eyes and letting herself release some of the tension her body perpetually had stored. She had many things in her life to be angry about. To be stressed over. She didn't need to add this boy to the list.

“So… What are we doing?” Luffy asked from behind her. He hadn't moved a step since they walked in.

Nami cocked an eyebrow. “First time in a girl’s room?” she asked.

“Hehe… yeah…” he admitted, nervously scratching the back of his head.

The redhead held up her phone. “We're taking photos today,” she explained. “Lots of photos.”

“Why?” Luffy cocked his head.

“I told you yesterday,” Nami frowned.

Luffy frowned back, “No, you didn’t!”

Nami racked her brain, trying to recall as much of their prior conversation as she could. Huh. No, she hadn't. “We're supposed to have been dating for a couple of months now. If anyone asks too many questions, we can show them two months' worth of photos.”

“We've been dating for two months?” Luffy asked.

“If we just started, then it feels like an obvious smokescreen,” Nami explained, leaning back against her desk. “If we say we’ve been going out for a really long time, no one would believe it. Why hadn't they heard of this in all that time? Two months is a good middle ground. Long enough to get people to think it's serious, but not so long that it would be weird for us to keep it a secret that whole time.” Her brown eyes flicked up to his, meeting his wavering, blank stare.

Nami sighed, feeling her frustration building up once more. She forced it back down and asked, “Did you get any of that?”

“I uh… I guess…” He really was a bad liar. “You really put a lot of thought into it, didn't you?”

She cleared her throat rather than show embarrassment. “I had some free time last night, sure,” she said. “Just… just let me do the thinking for the both of us, okay?”

“That sounds great!” Luffy grinned, relief coursing through him. “Alright, what do you need me to do?”

“Sit on the bed,” Nami said, opening up her camera app. Luffy did as instructed. She joined him and, with no warning, hopped up onto his lap. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, she smiled for the camera. She clocked Luffy's face in the preview. His smile had become strained, and his fists had clenched into her comforter.

Nami reached up and pinched his cheek. “Relax,” she said. “Keep it natural. If these look too fake, no one will buy it.” He nodded, letting some of the tension out. Snapping the photo, she slid out of his lap and back onto the floor. “Up,” she said, pulling him with her.

Once he was on his feet, she pressed her side against his, stretching her arm around his back. Raising the camera again, she smiled but couldn't help noticing how rigid he was. “Put your arm around my waist,” she said. “You’re way too stiff.”

Small, strained noises bubbled in Luffy’s throat. She could feel his arm move, but the contact never came. Looking back, she saw his hand twitching as it hovered, frozen a few inches from her body. “It’s not a snake,” she said. “It won’t bite.”

“Um…” Luffy hesitated, his gaze darting away from hers as uncertainty clouded his expression. “I…”

“Dude,” Nami grabbed his face with her free hand, making him look at her. His skin stretched in her grip, making his face scrunch up. “What is- Hang on.” She snapped a quick photo of the two of them like that, her giving a slight side-eye to the camera. Turning her attention back to him, she continued, “What is your problem?”

“My, uh… when I was a kid, my brothers told me never to touch a girl without her permission,” the words were shaky as they tumbled out of his mouth.

“Good advice,” she said with a nod of approval. Nami released his face, grabbing his hand instead. Slapping it onto her hip, she firmly said, “You have my permission. Now stop wasting time.”

“Okay!” Any anxiety Luffy had over being so close to a girl was wiped away. He was ready to go, ready to have her lead the way. Their falsification of evidence began in earnest, taking several more pictures together.

One where he sat at her desk while she was perched atop it, propping his chin up with her finger to make him look at her. She couldn't quite nail down exactly what the look in his eyes was. Devotion? Adoration? An inexperienced boy having a pretty girl's face only a few inches from his?

Probably that one.

They took another where the two of them stood before her mirror, with her pressed up against his back and her head resting on his shoulder. Her arms were wrapped around his surprisingly firm chest. Luffy always wore baggy clothes. Even his tank tops draped loosely on his frame. Learning he wasn't a skinny little shrimp and actually had some muscle came as quite a surprise to Nami.

Quite a positive one.

And they took yet another with the pair laying back on her bed, his arm wrapped around her back and resting on her side. Her brilliant orange hair splayed out behind her head, framing her face like the setting sun. The light caught in her eyes as she held him close against her side.

With that one taken, Nami carefully extracted herself from her fake boyfriend's grasp and, more importantly, removed his fingers, which were nearly cupping her breast. “It didn't show on the camera, but watch it,” she warned him.

It had taken Luffy a second to realize where his hand even was. He yanked it free from her grasp and nervously cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he coughed. “I didn't realize… uh…”

“It's fine,” she assured him. “It's not like you grabbed the whole boob, and I'm the one who said you could touch me. I just should have been more specific.” Rising to her feet, she pointed to different parts of her body. “Waist, back, and shoulders are good. Hips are situational.” Luffy raised his hand. “Yes?” she asked.

“I don't know what that word means.”

“Then don't worry about it.” Finishing up, she gestured to the rest of her body. “Anything else? I'll break your fingers.”

“‘Kay.”

“Alright, this is a good stopping point,” Nami said, briefly scrolling through the photos they had already taken.

“Wait, that’s it?” Luffy asked. “I thought you said we were taking a bunch. That was only like, fifteen!”

“Six,” Nami corrected him. “And I didn't say we're done.” She pointed to his sack of clothes. “Go change.”

“Why?” Luffy picked up his bag but didn't move any further from there.

“I said we’re taking two months of pictures, yeah?” she asked, walking him through this like he was a child. “If I show them to anyone, they will see us wearing the same things for that whole time.”

Luffy looked back at her with a blank stare. Nami held, waiting. If there were gears in his head, it was time for them to turn. What should have been a simple task was beginning to take an eternity.

Just as she was about to give up on him, his eyes lit up. “Different clothes looks like different days!”

Nami pinched his cheek. “Very good! Bathroom's across the hall, on the left. Go change.”

“Okay!” the boy cheered before hauling his sack of clothes over his shoulder and bounding from her bedroom. She watched him go before turning her attention to her phone. Scrolling through the photos, she made little critiques here and there. Surprisingly, for herself. Her hair covered too much of her face here. Her eyes looked out of focus there. Too much cleavage. Not enough cleavage. It was all a delicate balance.

But even more surprising was the fact that she had nothing negative to say about Luffy's side of things. The boy had an undeniable photogenic charm. No matter the angle, all she could see across their half-dozen photos was herself posing, mostly naturally, with a good-looking guy.

And that was really annoying.

Luffy walked in not too much later. Previously, he had been wearing a red T-shirt with a logo of a sun and a pair of white shorts. Now, he had donned a maroon long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Both outfits included his big, dumb straw hat.

“That’s staying on, is it?” Nami stared pointedly at it.

“Yup!” Luffy beamed.

Nami sighed. “Alright, whatever. My turn.” Picking up a few articles of clothing, she left the room. But she stopped in the doorway. Turning back to him with a glare, she delivered a warning: “Go through my stuff, and you die. Peep on me changing, and you die. Understood?”

“Yup!” Luffy repeated. Nami shook her head and made for the bathroom. She shut the door behind her, pausing to try and listen for approaching footsteps. Once she was satisfied he hadn't followed, she placed her clothes on the counter and began to strip.

Off went the white overshirt. Off went her tank top. Off went her shorts. Standing in her underwear, Nami considered her outfit choices. Her panties were simple, white and blue cotton. That wasn't changing. Why bother with fancy underwear when she wasn't planning on letting him see them anytime soon?

Or at all!

Her next top was an olive green, sleeved crop top. Sleeves were always mandatory. The bra was going to have to go. The top was tight enough to support the girls, and the fabric wasn't dark enough to hide the lines. She reached behind herself and undid the hooks, letting the bra fall off her chest.

She allowed herself a moment to admire her nearly naked reflection with a critical eye. Her breasts, each a generous handful, sat high and proud on her chest, crowned with rosy nipples that had stiffened in the cool air of her bathroom. They were the perfect blend of soft and firm, the kind of tits that could bounce for days but never sag an inch.

Nami's waist came in tightly above the flare of her hips, giving her an hourglass figure. She belonged in pin-up calendars, not high school. Her abs, while not overly defined, hinted at the athletic prowess hidden beneath her usual attire. The muscles in her stomach flexed subtly as she turned to the side, admiring the curve of her waist and the way it flowed into the round, taut globe of her ass.

And what an ass it was. Nami considered it to be her fourth-best feature after her hair, face, and brain. It was a perfect bubble butt that seemed to defy gravity. It was high and tight, an ass that (she assumed) could take a pounding and walk itself home afterward. She reached back and gave it a firm squeeze, watching as the flesh yielded to her touch before bouncing back into place. Nami couldn't help but grin at her reflection, feeling a surge of confidence and pride in her body.

For a high school girl, she knew she was stacked. Most of the other girls in class were still flat-chested and gangly, but she had blossomed early. Her body was a work of art, a temple that she took great care to maintain. And as she stood there, gazing at her nearly nude form, Nami felt a rush of smug satisfaction.

She was hot as fuck, and she knew it.

And then the realization that she was wearing nothing but a pair of panties while a teenage boy was in her house had her hurrying to dress herself. Her fingers flew over the buttons of her top, stretching the fabric over her chest. Her eyes flicked from them to the reflection of the door in the mirror. Had she locked it? She couldn't remember. But if he was spying on her, she would know.

She had to bend down to pull up her leggings, and that caused her to miss it. Or, at least, she thought she had. The slightest motion in the corner of her eye. A pervert so clearly in view? Or was it merely a trick of the light? Either way, she finished dressing and hurried back to her room.

There he was, right where she had left him. Sitting on her bed, his eyes casually wandered around her living space. Exactly where she had left him. Or too exact? “Whatever,” she said to herself, shaking her head. It wasn't getting her anywhere to be as rabidly suspicious as she was. Just finish up and kick him out. The simplest solution.

Another round of photos later, and she sent Luffy back to the bathroom to change. Scrolling through the new set, she saved what worked and deleted what didn't. She figured that one more set would be enough for the day, at least.

But for now, she just had to wait for him to get back. And wait. And wait.

And wait.

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Nami asked herself, standing up from her bed. “It's one change of clothes!” She marched over to the bathroom and stopped. The door was open. Not all the way, just a crack. Realizing she was reaching for the knob, she pulled her hand away like she had been burned.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself. Was she really about to…

No. She wasn't. She wasn't peeping on him. This was a routine wellness check. To make sure he hadn't drowned himself in her sink, or something. And besides, she was pretty sure he had peeped on her. So it was only fair that she… check on his wellness. That was the justification she gave herself as she carefully pushed the door open wider and-

THERE WAS A NAKED BOY IN HER HOUSE

Standing in front of the mirror holding a red and green shirt in either hand, Luffy was otherwise butt-ass naked. His hat was precariously slung on a hook, but that was the least of Nami's worries. She had learned of his muscles earlier but hadn't even considered that they could be this well-defined. He stood facing away from her, completely oblivious to her presence.

His back was lean and muscular, with a V-shaped torso that tapered down to a slim waist. His skin was a warm, sun-kissed brown from years of… whatever his outdoor activities were. Nami could see the defined lines of his shoulder blades and the play of muscles beneath his smooth skin as he moved about.

But what really caught her attention was Luffy's ass. It was absolutely perfect. Two plump, round cheeks that appeared irresistibly squeezable. They were high and tight, with a slight bounce to them as Luffy shifted his weight from foot to foot. The muscles in his glutes flexed subtly with each movement, highlighting their toned and athletic nature.

Nami felt her cheeks burn as she admired the view. It was literally a whole new side of the goofy boy from class she had never seen before. She might have given him more than just the time of day if she knew he was carrying around a whole bakery with him. Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon.

Damn.

She wasn't aware of when she had started biting her lip, but in the half second her eyes drifted to the shadow-draped shape dangling between his legs, she nearly bit through it in her haste to scramble away from the door. When she stumbled and slammed into the wall, she covered it up by banging on the door. “Hurry up in there!” she shouted. “We’re losing daylight!”

Hurrying back to her room, she threw herself on her bed, buried her face into her pillows, and screamed. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!” came her muffled shout. Getting it out of her system, she composed herself and smoothed out her clothes and hair just in time for Luffy to return.

He had chosen the red shirt. Nami's mind pulsed with vivid memories. Memories that she shoved down by focusing on the boy's hat. “Really?” she asked. “You're still wearing that?”

“Wearing what?” Luffy looked himself over, unsure of what she meant.

Nami walked over to him and flicked the brim of his straw hat. "The hat," she remarked. “We're supposed to be changing up the outfits. Stop wearing the same hat in every one.”

“But I wear it all the time!” Luffy shot back. “Won't it be weirder if I'm not wearing it?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don't try to be smarter than me,” she warned him. “It’s not cute.”

“Good!” Luffy shouted back. “You're supposed to be the cute one anyway!”

She couldn't argue with an idiot. In a flash of anger, she grabbed him by his collar and threw him onto her bed. Straddling his waist, she tried to get in his face. When he tried to push her off him, she grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. He struggled against her, but she had the leverage.

“Stop squirming and listen,” she hissed through gritted teeth. He actually did. “Don't forget what we agreed on. I can ruin you.”

“So?” Luffy said. “I don't care!”

“You don't-” Nami had to scoff. “You don't care? Your friends all make fun of you for never having a girlfriend, but you don't care?!”

“Yeah!” he said. “I don't care what people think about me!”

Her anger reaching a fever pitch, Nami shouted in his face, “Then why did you agree to this?!”

“Because you said you needed help!” Luffy shouted back.

Nami scowled at him. No, she certainly had not. Releasing his arms, she shoved herself off him. Her anger left her breathless. Maybe… maybe this was a bad idea. They hadn't gone public yet. It would cost nothing to break things off now. Calming herself with a sigh, Nami said, “I think you should-”

The urgent growl of his stomach cut her off. “Do you have anything to eat?” he asked, sitting up.

Dumbfounded by his audacity, Nami couldn't find the words to speak. She stood there and watched as he hopped to his feet and walked past her, his nose leading him to her kitchen. It took Nami a second to realize she wasn't following him; her feet were planted to the ground as her mind struggled to catch up with the rest of her.

Scrambling after him, she shouted, “Hey! You can't go to someone's house and clear out their fridge!” But as she reached the living room, she found that, while her food supplies would remain intact, her privacy was about to take a hit.

Luffy was practically drooling as he looked through the window on the back door. “Whoa, you’ve got orange trees?” he cheered before throwing himself through the door.

“Don't you dare!” Nami shouted as she chased after him. But as fast as she was, she had given him a sizable head start. By the time she had caught up to him, he had already plucked one from a tree. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she yelled, fuming.

“...Eating?” Luffy said, his thumbnail about to pierce through the rind.

“And look what you did!” The soil beneath him had erupted in disarray upon his chaotic arrival. Dropping to her knees, she frantically began scooping it back into place. It had to be orderly. It had to be pristine. And it was all thrown off by this inconsiderate, impulsive, insensitive-

A large hand landed on hers. She looked up to see Luffy joining her on his knees, shoving the loose soil back into place. He held the fruit in his mouth, a slight dripping of juice pattering into the dirt from where his nail had gotten through. He caught her gaze. His eyes darted away.

“Shorry,” he mumbled around the fruit.

Nami blinked. Her demeanor softened. That's right. He was an idiot. In all the good ways and bad. Satisfied that the soil was back in place, she rose. Luffy popped the fruit out of his mouth, holding it out to her.

Then he saw the spit he had left on it and rubbed it off on his shirt before extending it back out. She allowed herself to laugh. But only a little. “You already picked it,” she conceded. “Just eat it.” His eyes lit up as he finally dove in properly, peeling the rind off. “And it’s not an orange,” she corrected him. “It's a tangerine.”

“Neaf!” Luffy said, around his mouthful of fruit.

“It's getting late,” Nami said, glancing at the soon-to-set sun. “You should get yourself home.”

“Okay!” The two of them stepped back inside. Luffy gathered up his clothes and slung the sack back over his shoulder. He took a step towards her front door but paused. “Um, my band is playing a show Sunday night,” he said. “You should come!”

“You want me to-” Nami blinked. “You're in a band?”

“Yup!” he beamed.

“Are you asking me as an apology or as your ‘girlfriend’?” She placed a hand on her cocked hip.

“Uuuuuuuuuh…” Luffy had to think about it for a minute. “Both?”

Nami patted him on the cheek, smearing leftover dirt on his face. “Good answer.” She hadn't seen him smile that wide before. “Where is it? I'll meet you there.” Luffy opened his mouth. And then closed it. This repeated several times. Nami sighed, “Just pick me up from here.”

“It's a date!” Luffy cheered and headed out.

“Only technically!” Nami called after him. She stood in the doorway for a minute, watching him go. Damn, did he fill out those jeans. She coughed, forcing those thoughts away. Once she had, she noticed Luffy had stopped and was looking back at her.

He waved at her. She gave him back a little half-assed wave. He resumed his walk, but turned back after only a few more steps to wave goodbye once more. Nami rolled her eyes, waved even less enthusiastically, and closed the door.

She just had to take the good with the bad. Luffy wasn't a bad guy; he was just kind of annoying. And if putting up with him helped to ease some of the stress in her life, then she would do it. She frowned, scratching at her shoulder. It would always itch when thoughts of how her life had turned out forced her to remember.

Nami stepped back out into the yard. The soil had been packed back down, but she had to make sure it was immaculate. Top layer packed tightly down, but not too tight. Rocks back into their usual places. Topsoil patchy and uneven. Gave the impression of an inexperienced gardener.

She really should have buried it deeper. But so far she had slipped past any suspicions. Don't fix what isn't broken. She had a system, and so far, it hadn't failed her.

A loud knocking at the door tore her from her thoughts. “What, did he forget something?” Nami asked herself, heading back inside. But, as she approached, she knew something was different. The knocks were heavier. More insistent. They came from a larger hand than Luffy's. There was no eagerness behind it. Only inevitability.

The chilling grip around Nami's heart tightened painfully. She knew who this was. She stood behind the door, listening to the pounding. Watching as it shook under the blows. She steeled herself. There was no running away from this.

They had a deal, after all.

Opening the door, she revealed a hulking brute of a man on the other side. He stood nearly as tall as the frame and just as wide. Powerful muscles coursed over his body, built from decades of manual labor. He had a sledgehammer propped on his shoulder, like always. His favorite tool to intimidate her. His favorite threat.

But it wasn't his power that frightened her. It was his eyes. Those eyes that saw right through her, piercing into her very soul. The eyes of a predator, having gleefully cornered its prey. One wrong move, and it would strike.

Nami had to suppress her fear. She could not show this man weakness. One slip-up, one mistake, could cost her everything. She stared him down, crossing her arms defiantly. Her fingers unconsciously clutched her shoulder as she gave him the barest hospitality that he so demanded.

“Arlong.”

The man's mouth split into a toothy grin, vicious and deadly. “Nami, sweetie,” he said, looking down on her. “I've told you so many times:”

“That's no way to greet your dear old dad.”

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Nami. She lived in a simple house with her mother Belle-mère and her sister Nojiko. They didn't have much, but they had found each other.

And they were happy.

Belle-mère raised the girls all on her own in a little house on Coco Street. She and Genzo, the man next door, were sweet on each other, but her focus was on her daughters. That didn't stop him from helping out, however and whenever he could. Soon, he had become a father to those girls in all but name.

And they were happy.

Money was tight. With two young mouths to feed and only a monthly stipend from the VA to keep her afloat, times were tough. Nevertheless, Belle-mère demonstrated remarkable resilience and perseverance. With Genzo and her surrounding neighborhood's help, she could give the girls… maybe not the life they deserved. One where they could have anything and everything they desired. But one where they could be comfortable. One where she could compensate for her lack of funds with an overabundance of love.

She made sure her girls were happy.

One day, she finally caught a break. A letter had come from the bank, informing her that someone had bought her and many other people's mortgages. Gone was the looming threat of foreclosure. Gone were the nightmares of being forced out on the street. Gone was the anxiety of being unable to keep a roof over her daughters' heads. For the first time in nearly a decade, Belle-mère could sleep soundly.

She splurged that night. She knew she couldn't fully afford it, but she wanted to celebrate this newfound freedom. She made Nami and Nojiko their favorite foods, played their favorite music, and even bought them that art set they had been wanting for so long. They would have to share, of course, but they were used to that. While Nami would occasionally have immature outbursts over how poor her family was, she never said anything she couldn't take back. They loved each other, and that was all that mattered.

That night was the last time Nami could remember being happy.

The knock at the door spelled doom for her family. They had no way of knowing that their quiet life together was about to come to a dreadful end. For on the other side stood the man who had sealed their fate.

Arlong made his money in construction. His team demonstrated extraordinary speed, rapidly finalizing contracts. Corners were cut left and right. Safety standards were hardly met, if at all. Simply put, their work could best be described as "good enough."

It was easy to get to the top when you crushed unions, bribed inspectors, and personally made your competition disappear. There was an unspoken secret around town that every Arlong Construction site had at least one body buried in its foundation. But with all the right people paid off, no one went looking for them.

When he arrived at Belle-mère's doorstep, he brought with him a bold ultimatum. As the newly appointed lord of this land, he demanded tribute. $1000 per adult. $500 per child. To be paid immediately, in full, or face eviction.

Belle-mère had one final burst of good fortune before the last of it burned away. The girls were in the back. None of their toys or clothes were in view. Her emergency savings amounted to precisely $1,000. Genzo was there to help her with any cover stories. All she had to do was lie.

But she couldn't do it. Those girls were her entire world. To say she didn't have children would be to deny her very soul. She was a mother, and she would never say otherwise. She gave Arlong $1000, all that she had.

$500 for each of her daughters.

She made her declaration with no hesitation. Those girls were her entire world. He reminded her that this would mean she would be out on the street by morning. She pushed back, asking if he was really capable of tearing a mother away from her children. He simply said that she would regret this decision.

To this day, Nami knows in her heart of hearts that Belle-mère never regretted it for a second.

It was only three days later when it happened. Belle-mère was walking back from the corner shop with the girls. It was a bright and sunny day. She was going to make a tangerine cream pie that night.

But the truck barreling down the hill had other plans.

Belle-mère had not even a second to react. She didn't think. She shoved Nojiko and Nami out of the way. In her final moments, she knew she had made the right decision. The truck swerved, avoiding the girls and heading straight for their mother.

The doctors said it was quick.

They never caught the driver.

In an instant, their world had ended. And it wouldn't be long before Nami's nightmare began.

The girls were thrown into the foster care system. Try as he might to adopt them, Genzo had no parental rights. He had no blood relation, nor was he in any sort of legal contract with their mother. He had always regretted that he never married that woman, but he had never felt that regret as hard as he did then.

Nami and her sister were quickly separated, lost in the foster care shuffle. Though it would take her years to learn, Genzo had gone through the proper channels and tracked down Nojiko, formally adopting her after a few months. But he was unable to find Nami.

Because she had been adopted only two weeks after being placed into the system.

He was a known quantity in town. A businessman who always found time to give back to his community. A strong man who found the kindness in his heart to care for a young, orphaned girl. A generous man whose construction company was responsible for the majority of the public spaces in and around the city.

A man who owned a familiar truck, half-buried under a tarp behind his house.

It was a towering McMansion, seated on a hill. He couldn't even get top quality for his own home. The foundation was shaky, and the molding was falling apart. Windows were cracked, and the roof's edges were jagged. It was filled and covered with tacky shark decor. And to top it all off, the sprawling expanse that surrounded the house was covered by mobile homes as far as the eye could see.

And so began Nami's days in her new home at Arlong Trailer Park.

He hadn't adopted her for any benevolent reason. He hadn't adopted her out of some petty form of spite. No, he adopted her out of greed. Every month, the state would send him a stipend just for keeping a roof over her head. And he had lucked out that her Child Services worker, a man named Nezumi, was more than happy to look the other way regarding her treatment. Provided his pockets were properly lined.

Arlong never spent a dime on Nami's care or well-being. All of her monthly stipend went into women and wine. She had to contend with his scraps and whatever she could pilfer from the nearby trailers when no one was home. And when she was caught, they always told her father. No one wanted to be on Arlong's bad side.

Her punishments were severe. A full-grown, brawny man who refused to hold back against an eight-year-old girl. And why would he? Nezumi never reported any of the bruises. Or cuts. Or broken bones. Everything could be explained to her school as an adventurous girl getting herself into trouble. Arlong was never questioned by anyone. Even when she spoke up. No one listened.

Nami tried to run away. But every time, someone in the Park would catch her or rat her out. Everyone there was well aware of Arlong's behavior. A scant few were deluded enough to believe the mask he wore in public was his true face. The rest were terrified of the man he really was. Those who defied Arlong often disappeared without a trace. And if handing over his escaping daughter could get them on his good side, then they would not hesitate.

After dozens of escape attempts, Nami had finally learned the optimal route to freedom. A path that, under the cover of night, would see her hidden beneath the shade of nearby trees. It kept her far enough away from any trailers to avoid prying eyes. Once she had gotten to the main road, she tried to find her way back home. But it had been so long that she had forgotten the way.

Eventually, a police cruiser pulled up alongside the young girl who was out after dark. She tried to tell them that an evil man had stolen her away from her family. That he wasn't her father, that he would never be. But they took her back to the Park all the same.

Her punishment had never been as terrible as that. He would tell those who noticed about the tragic accident she had by the fireplace. The clumsy girl had tripped and burned herself on a heated piece of iron. Her left shoulder was now a gnarled mass of melted flesh and scar tissue. It was so gruesome that no one ever did more than glance at it. No one ever looked close enough to see that it wasn't a random burn.

In truth, it was a crude shark emblem.

Nami was his cash cow. His property. And like any good farmer, he made sure everyone knew who this cow belonged to. Forever would she be branded with his mark. Forever would she be his.

He had hoped that would kill the fight in her. Leave her docile. However, it merely reignited the flames. She would not break. No matter how hard he hit her, she would not submit.

Nami was much more clever than Arlong gave her credit for. Though the beatings continued, she had found her own form of rebellion. Breaking things in and around her new foster home. Disrupting parties he would host by playing the petulant child. Yelling and sabotaging his business calls. Anything and everything she could think of that would cost him money. The punishments she received were dire, but she figured that as long as she was costing him more money than he was making off her, he would let her go.

Sadly, Arlong was a violent man. He didn't want to toss her aside. He wanted to kill her. To snuff out that fire for good. However, his greed eclipsed his anger. Nezumi was a toady, but even he couldn't cover up a child's death. And Arlong wasn't going to throw his free money down the drain. So he offered Nami the one thing she wanted more than anything.

Freedom.

From his file box, he produced a document. Nami was too young to understand any legalese, but Arlong explained that what he held was the deed to her mother's house. The special papers stated that he owned it after buying the mortgage from the bank. And he offered Nami a deal.

She could return to her mother's home. No one had lived there since she died, so it was free for the taking. She would receive no further assistance from him. She wouldn't have to live with him anymore. On paper, she would still be happily tucked away at the Park. The monthly stipend would still go to him. If she got into any trouble, she was on her own.

But of course, he wasn't so cruel as to leave her without any hope. The thing to keep her in line was the deed. With that, he could do whatever he wanted with that house. Bulldoze it, most likely. To make room for some new development. But he was there to make a deal. He was there to make money.

He gave Nami a price: $700,000. He gave Nami a deadline: her 18th birthday. If she could put that much money together in that time, then the house was hers. She would never hear from him again. He swore on his mother's grave. But if she couldn't do it, if she ran out of time and didn't have enough, then she would come back to him. And he would get his money from her one way or another.

Depending on how pretty she grew up to be.

Nami acted without a moment's hesitation. She took the deal. She didn't have much of anything to pack, so she returned home that same day. He dropped her off in the same truck he used to run her mother over.

It had been a year since Nami had seen this house. A year since the smell of tangerines on the wind had caught her nose. She breathed deeply, hearing the rattling engine pull away behind her. She didn't give him a parting glance.

Nami had not taken three steps before the neighbor's front door burst open. She didn't know why it hadn't occurred to her that he would still be living there. Or that her sister would be with him. All the same, Genzo and Nojiko came sprinting from his house.

Wrapped up in her sister's and pseudo-father's arms, Nami stood there as they wept. They hadn't thought they would ever see her again. Her return was nothing short of a miracle. Nami returned their hugs, but she did not cry. Even at eight years old, her tears had already dried up.

They took her inside and, upon seeing her under better light, saw the full extent of her year of abuse. Her hair was dirty and matted, the once brilliant orange sheen now dull. She was thin. Far too thin for a girl her age. And not to get into the sheer amount of bruises dotting her skin.

Genzo got her to say where she had been all year. He wanted to kill that man. He marched toward the door but stopped. A familiar voice in the back of his head warned him that he could fail. And if anything happened to him, those girls would be all alone. Again.

Nami told them the good news. They could live in their old house! Arlong had deliberately left the property vacant, refusing to let Genzo or Nojiko step foot on it. But now, they had his full permission to move back in. Provided they paid rent, of course.

As Nojiko's guardian, Genzo did what he could for the girls. But as Arlong never revoked his claim on Nami, there was only so much he could do for her. He could make sure she was fed and happy, but he could never sign off on any important care that she needed. She had no choice but to go without. Or with what Nojiko was able to provide for her.

The young girl did her best to be there for her little sister. She tried to get her to talk about their mother or about her year away. But Nami refused her every time. She loved her sister, but wounds like those don't heal easily.

After a few months, Nami had grown back to a healthy weight, though her growth had likely been stunted. The bruises marring her skin had faded away. She looked every part the typical eight-year-old.

Except for her eyes. She didn't have a child's eyes anymore. They were cold. Lifeless. Eyes that had seen the true nature of man. All on a girl who was expected to pick herself back up and act like nothing had happened. It was no way for a child to live. But it could all go back to the way it was. All she had to do was…

Even given ten years, how was an eight-year-old girl supposed to get her hands on $700,000?

************************************************

“You're not my father,” Nami growled, standing her ground. She stared him down, refusing to blink. In her year living with him, she had never broken. Not once. In the decade since, she maintained that spirit. If his actions ever brought her down, she at least made sure he never got to see it.

“Mmm…” Arlong cocked his head to the side, pursing his lips as he condescendingly pondered. “That's not what the courts say.” His lips stretched into a grin over his vicious teeth.

There were times when Nami would be so angered by his appearance on her doorstep that she would ask why he was there. But she knew why. It was always the same reason. Turning abruptly, she marched to a nearby table, her feet striking the floor with each brusque step.

A small box sat atop the table. Inside was a wad of cash. Nami grabbed it and returned to the door, slapping it into Arlong's outstretched palm. He took his time counting it, like he always did. His favorite part of this monthly exchange was making her stew in her resentment.

Once he had finished, he stood there, idly bouncing the bills in his hand. Nami tensed. Normally, he would have taken his rent money and left. It wasn't like they enjoyed each other's company. But this time, he stayed.

It was wrong. A change in the repetition. Nami's nerves were starting to get the better of her. She did her best not to let it show, but the way he was looking at her made her feel like he could see right through her. So unnerved was she, she couldn't help but ask, “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, his grin sliding back toward neutrality. “Just reminiscing.”

“About what?”

“About all the time we've spent together,” he said. “There's only one week left. One way or another, this is the last time I'll be collecting the rent.” He threw her a glance, malice hidden behind his smile. “And how far along are we? Are you going to make it?”

"I've got a week,” Nami deflected. Something in her gut had told her for a long time not to let him know how much she had saved up. "You'll get your money.”

"No skin off my nose if you can't," said Arlong, his eyes drifting downward. "I can think of one way you could make money. And fast." His gaze lingered on her body for far too long.

“Never!” she spat, her skin crawling. Nami wished she had something she could cover herself with. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she left to grab a coat or a robe, she would be showing him weakness. And giving him an opportunity to enter the house. Something she had painstakingly avoided for these last ten years. But standing there and letting him ogle her was feeling more and more like the worse option.

Thankfully, Arlong didn't linger for much longer. He turned away from her, stuffing the stack of bills into his pocket. “We'll see…” he said over his shoulder. “We'll see.”

Slamming the door shut behind him, Nami went rigid. Every muscle in her body tensed, and her breaths were short and shuddering. She couldn't let him see her angry. She couldn't let him win.

She kept the scream at bay, but smaller, strained bursts of frustration still spilled out. This monster had been in control of her life for far too long. But he was right about one thing. That was the last time she would ever pay him rent.

She would only give him money one more time; to buy Belle-mère's house. Then she would never see him again. He would be out of her life for good.

Taking a breath to collect herself, Nami moved back outside to the tangerine trees. Standing among them was always soothing to her. The smell of citrus wafting through the air. The sound of the wind rustling the leaves. Sturdy trunks to support her when she needed it. Rich soil, soft underfoot.

Soil that contained $690,000.

Namis stood before the uneven and hastily repacked mound of dirt where her chest lay buried. It had been just shy of ten years. Nine years and 51 weeks, to be exact. One week left before her deadline. She was so close she could taste it.

Over the next seven days, she had to get her hands on $10,000. A paltry sum compared to what she had put together so far. She had done the math years ago. As long as she pulled in at least $1400 a week, she would be more than set. Obviously, things had not gone according to plan. She had to make nearly ten times that much in the same amount of time.

But Nami had done it before. She had lucky breaks here and there, just as she had unlucky streaks. All she had to do was make one big score, and it would all be over. And she planned on doing just that tonight. She pulled out her phone. 5:32 PM.

Time to get to work.

************************************************

The busses had long stopped running, but Nami still sat on the bench. Her sketchbook in hand, her pencil meticulously gliding across the paper. The sun had gone down, leaving only a sliver of the building left on the other side of the street. All that remained sat beneath the street light.

She made the finishing touches and held up her drawing. Glancing between the two, she felt satisfied that she had fully captured its image. Slipping the sketchbook into her bag, she made her way across the street.

Ducking into the shadows, she pulled a black beanie from her bag. It wasn't particularly her style, but she had a shock of easily identifiable hair. She may have been 17, but she wasn't an amateur. She had been doing this for years. In addition to the beanie she had on a black hoodie and dark gray cargo pants. She needed as many pockets as possible. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she hopped the fence and headed in.

The best places to rob were the ones with security systems. Overconfidence was a slow and insidious killer. All of her biggest scores came from homes where she had slipped past alarms and cameras. The risk was almost always worth the reward.

Keeping herself close to the outer wall, she stuck to the overhead camera's blind spot. They were posted to monitor the main gate and front entrance. Not a single one was pointed toward the corner of the fence closest to the house. It was child's play.

Reaching the window, Nami carefully slid it open. She wasn't going into this blind. She had painstakingly scouted this house for the last week or so. And that involved making this run once before, earlier that morning, before school. She had slipped a small, almost imperceptible bar into the window frame when it was already open. This would keep the window from being shut, which would keep the security system from being armed. Late at night, no one would notice the bar, and she wasn't expecting this guy to think far enough ahead to do anything but go to bed.

Nami was extremely picky about her targets. She had four rules she had to follow. They had to be men. They had to be single. They had to be some kind of asshole. And…

When she was a little girl, she had gotten a knack for stealing when she would slip into trailers for food. Back then, if she got caught, she would be handed over to Arlong. But on her own, more often than not, she would be let go. She was just a little kid, after all. She didn't know what she was doing. Some of them chased after her, forcing her to run, but aside from a few close calls, she managed to get away every time.

As she got older and puberty hit her with the beauty stick, that excuse didn't get her as far anymore. So she had to switch things up. No more older rich people. Now, only younger, obnoxiously rich douchebags. There were a good number in town. Must have been some sort of start-up in the area. Whatever the reason was, Nami was able to get her hands on quite a bit of cash off them.

Some were busts as they didn't carry physical money, but even they would splurge on needless displays of wealth. Things to show the ladies how big their wallet (and by the transitive property, their dick) was. Funneling that stuff to her pawn shop was annoying but profitable.

And tonight, she was going after a big one.

Nami had started trailing this guy two weeks ago. Instead of sneaking into any big house she came across and hoping for the best, she had a more strategic plan she now put into action. She would post up outside of various places in the rich part of downtown. The nightclub that never let anyone in. The hotel that constantly held tech conferences. The coffee shop bar hybrid that seemed to cater exclusively to douchebags.

She would keep her ear to the ground, trying to sniff out the big spenders. Getting herself inside would be a plus, but these places often had tight security. Either way, she would pick out a mark with a fat wallet and follow him as he stumbled his way home. A few times, she had gotten extremely lucky and was able to follow him straight into his house. He would pass out, and she would pick the place clean.

There were a handful of occasions when Nami would be spotted, but most of the time, he was drunk enough to think she was into him. With bile in her throat, she would let him take her home. Where he would either pass out on his own, or she would make him. Usually with a sturdy lamp or some other piece of furniture. From there, same as above.

But most of the time, she would play things quietly and safely. Follow from a distance. Case the location under cover of dark. Eventually, make her move once she determined his routine. Her sketchbook was always her cover. She was simply an artsy girl, drawing the buildings that inspired her pencil to move. Not a thief planning a break-in.

Tonight was no different. Two weeks of careful planning had led her to this night. Her mark was loaded. He didn't trust banks and kept his money in a safe. Tonight marked yet another of his customary drinking nights. By her schedule, he had left for the bar an hour ago. She had plenty more before he would even consider returning home. Time to work.

Nami slipped silently through the window, keeping it propped open behind her. She would remove the bar upon her escape, removing any suggestion as to her entry point. She made her way through the house, her feet confident as they drove her forward.

While she didn't have to worry about getting caught, she still didn't want to make a sound. The last thing she wanted was a neighbor getting suspicious and calling the cops. Though she often counted on her marks being so hated by their community that no one would lift a finger to help.

Having peered through his windows with her keen eyes, Nami was mostly sure where his safe was hidden. And if she was wrong, she had more than enough time to search for it. But her estimation had been correct. It was tucked away in his office. Not even obscured. It was sitting right out in the open.

Kneeling down, Nami pressed her ear against the cold metal of the safe's door. Gently, she turned the dial with her gloved fingers. The tumblers inside ground against each other. The same slow, consistent thuds.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Click.

It was nearly imperceptible, but her first number was locked in. Turning it the other way, she repeated her course until she heard the remaining clicks. Pulling her head off the door with a grin, she grabbed the handle, giving it a turn and then-

“Who the fuck are you?!”

Nami whipped around as the light flashed on, momentarily blinding her. She shot her hands in the air, squinting her eyes as they adjusted to the light. It only took her a couple of seconds to regain her focus. And her stomach dropped.

There he was. The man who was supposed to be getting obliterated at a bar miles away from here. Instead, he was right in front of her, aiming a very shiny and very large gun right at her head.

“Don't shoot!” Nami begged, raising her hands even higher. Sometimes, she would get caught and would have to play the overwhelmed girl in over her head. It usually got her some sympathy. There was no acting at play tonight, and even less compassion.

“Answer me!” the man bellowed. His face was turning red. His knuckles were white, his hands clenching his gun so tight. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Hey. Hey,” Nami said, her voice trembling but otherwise calm. Unconsciously, she took a step back, bumping into a nearby lamp. “Let’s not do anything we’ll regret…”

“I’m not regretting shit!” he yelled, thrusting the gun just a little bit closer to her. “The law's on my side, you little thieving bitch!”

“Okay! I get it!” Nami said, trying to appear calm despite her wildly pounding heart. She had to do something and she had to do it fast. “You-” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “You seem like a reasonable man…” Time to play her trump card. “Instead of all this nastiness,” she sighed, her voice husky as she slowly lowered one of her hands. It trailed down to her chest and carefully latched onto the zipper of her hoodie. “Why don't we get up to something mutually beneficial?”

Slowly dragging down the zipper, Nami's hoodie parted to reveal her chest underneath. Ever since they became too big to ignore, Nami had worn a sports bra on her “outings”. The last thing she wanted was for them to get in the way when she needed to be subtle. But subtlety was the last thing on her mind right now as she exposed herself to this creep.

She had specifically chosen this bra for this particular task. It was cut low enough that, with how tightly it held everything together, it made her cleavage insane. She didn't need to press her breasts together, the bra handled everything for her. Though she added a small shake of her shoulders to give him a little jiggle.

The zipper hit the bottom and Nami stood up straight, her hoodie completely open. She bit her lip and batted her eyelashes, pulling out all the stops. She hadn't ever been held at gunpoint before, but if this was all it took to get out of it… Well, she’d rather not have to think about this again.

“Oh, uh…” the man stammered. One of his hands slipped from his gun, the other not able to hold it straight any longer. Nami didn't have a barrel to stare down now, so she could let herself relax. The way his eyes darted over her exposed skin made it crawl, but there were certain things one had to do when a job went tits up.

Literally.

“Well?” she purred, dropping her remaining raised hand to subtly make sure none of her hair had fallen from her hat. She pushed her chest forward, asking, “What are you waiting for?”

His free hand reached out for her, fingers trembling. His face grew red, and Nami could see the sweat dripping from his brow. His eyes were locked on her tits, as they should be. He moved so slowly, so cautiously. “Come on,” she whispered. “They're not going to bite.”

She had never let anyone get this close to her before. But none of her prior marks had ever pulled a gun on her. She needed to string him along until she could take care of herself. And it worked flawlessly. He licked his lips as he moved ever so slightly faster with her encouragement, but not fast enough to have any amount of courage.

Because that was rule number 4 for Nami’s marks: They had to be pathetic. The kind of man who would fall for a girl’s charms even when he had her dead to rights. A loser who couldn't get women himself but would still believe that one would miraculously fall into his lap.

His hand got so close. She could feel the heat radiating off his fingers into her breast, like he was copping a feel with pure energy. Just a few more seconds, and he would be pawing at her like a clumsy beast.

Okay, that was close enough.

Just before he could make contact, Nami sprung into action. In a flash, she drove her knee into his groin. A horrible, garbled wheeze spilled from his throat as all the air left his lungs. His legs buckled, and he dropped.

Nami smacked his hand, sending the gun clattering to the floor. Keeping her momentum, she spun through the motion, grabbing the base of the lamp as she turned. Twirling it around her hands, she got it into position as she rounded her spin, swinging it as hard as she could, with all of her weight, straight into his temple.

There was a sickening crash as she broke the lamp over his head, plunging the room into darkness once more. In the distance, someone was blasting music, the bass pounding in her ears. Blinded, she took a step backwards, gaining some distance from her would-be assailant.

He wasn't moving. Has she killed him? She hasn't been trying to, but accidents like that can happen. Holding her own, Nami listened closely for the sound of his breath.

It wasn't there. She couldn't hear him breathing! All she could hear was that wild pulsing beat! He wasn't breathing! She had killed him! She was a…

Nami let herself breathe. She gulped down deep lungfuls of air. Once she let herself think properly, she understood that she wasn't hearing music at all. Her heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she couldn't hear anything else. Only when that realization set in did her brain allow her body to calm itself.

Nami had gotten into a few hairy situations, but none quite so violent. She was rattled, but so was he. And since she didn't know how long he was going to be down for, she had to move fast. Ripping her flashlight from her bag, she shot back over to the safe.

She had already done most of the work before being so rudely interrupted. All she had to do was open the door. Kneeling down, she did just that. It opened with a whisper, well-oiled hinges telling her it either saw exceptional use or none at all. She shined her flashlight inside and saw…

“What the fuck?” Nami whispered. She dove in, frantically grabbing at everything inside. Piling it in front of her, she stared at it all: One small stack of bills. Multiple folders and envelopes with documents inside. A heavy box of bullets for his gun. Was that thing even loaded? Not much else.

“Where's the fucking money?!” Nami hissed, furious and terrified but still mindful enough to keep herself quiet. She knew this guy didn't trust banks! She had heard him say so himself! Sneaking into bars was easy with her looks, and as long as she didn't try to order anything herself, anyone who actually knew her let her get away with it. And eight days ago, she had watched him bore a woman by going on and on about how he keeps all his money at home. What, did he spend it all on her?

Nami dug through the papers and her stomach dropped. She didn't fully understand them, but she could see that she was looking at his money. Printed out records of his stock market activity. Her arms gave out and her head pounded onto the floor. “He’s a fucking day trader?!” she cried. She couldn't cash in someone else’s stocks!

But he should still have some money in here! He was bragging to that woman! What, was he lying about having money in his house? What kind of loser was he?!

Still looking through the papers, something else caught her eye. A bill of sale. $1600 for a .429 Desert Eagle Mark XIX. Nami glanced over at the gun. She checked the date on the papers and pounded her fist on the floor, doing everything she could to keep herself quiet.

Two days earlier.

Two days. Had she made her move only a couple of days before, she could have walked off with at least a couple of thousand, considering how many boxes of ammo he had bought along with it. Now, she had nothing. It was all ove-

No.

She had come too far, worked too hard to walk away now. Grabbing the bill of sale, she stuffed as many ammo boxes as she could fit in her bag. Slipping over to the fallen man, she ripped his wallet from his back pocket. There was only about $200 in there, but Nami wasn't letting anything slip past her.

Next, she grabbed the gun. Spending far more time than she would have liked, she eventually figured out how to eject the loaded bullet. Getting the rest of them out of the magazine was a good deal easier. She then tucked them away into a halfway empty ammo box. Stuffing all of that and the gun into her bag, there was nothing left to do.

With one final look at her downed mark, Nami slipped out through the window she came in from. It didn't really matter at that point, but she did make sure to take the bar out of the window as she left. Leave no trace and whatnot.

This whole night had been a bust. But she had to try and salvage what she could. Because the alternative was much, much worse.

************************************************

Nami’s usual pawnshop was typically good to her. The owner didn't ask questions and gave her fair prices. But that was when she didn't stink of desperation. She needed money and she needed it now, and he knew it.

She sold the man's gun and all of his ammo. He was initially going to stiff her until she showed him the bill of sale. Purchased two days prior, brand new. Never fired (she hoped. He seemed to buy it anyway.) Her haggling didn't stand up to her stress, and she ended up getting the marked price for the gun. Which he had undercut and compensated with the ammo. $1500 all together.

That, plus the $200 from the man's wallet and the assorted bills in his safe, had gotten her to a total of $2556 for the night.

Nowhere near enough to save her. This was supposed to be her last score. But instead, she had to scramble. To panic. She had six days left to get her hands on $7500. She had no leads. No plans. Only rising dread.

What the hell was she going to do?

Chapter Text

“Who do you live with? Do you have your own room? Are you safe at home?”

Nami sighed. “Are you seriously still doing this?” she asked. “It's the last one!”

“Answer the questions, please,” he said, not glancing up from his clipboard. Nezumi was certainly not the type of man one would expect to be a Child Services Specialist. But once you factor in his willingness and ability to take bribes in exchange for glowing reports, it made a lot more sense.

“These are Day One questions!” Nami yelled. “Have you seriously never bothered updating your paperwork?” Nezumi didn't answer, instead tapping his pen on his clipboard with a pointed look. With a heavy sigh, Nami reluctantly complied. It was easier and faster to do as he asked than it was to argue. She had learned that a long time ago. Stupid her for hoping he wouldn't stick to the same routine, even on his final visit. She would be turning 18 in six days. She would be out of the system then. And all on her own.

Hopefully.

“I live with my sister, I have my own room, and I feel safe in this house,” Nami rattled off her answers.

Nezumi nodded, writing something down before continuing, “How do you get along with your parents or guardians? Are there any adults you trust in your life?”

“My so-called ‘father,’” she added air quotes for sarcastic emphasis. “Regularly beats me. And you're one of the only other adults in my life, and I sure as hell don't trust you.”

More nodding. More writing. More questions. Questions about her daily life, her time at school, her health and well-being. Questions Nami answered with derision and scorn, knowing full well that the truth would never see the light of day. Closing out the interview, Nezumi asked, “Has your father ever hurt you? Has he done anything to make you feel unsafe?”

The unyielding storm of emotion raging inside Nami swelled like a tempest. He damn well knew the answer. Scowling, she grabbed the neck of her shirt and yanked it down her arm. The scar she bore, her unmistakable brand, seared with an intensity that day. The twisted, gnarled flesh and tissue that sat raised from her shoulder. The place where Arlong had made her skin melt off her body. All so he could mark her as his property. With a stupid shark.

Nami stared daggers at Nezumi as he scribbled on his clipboard. When she first showed this to him, she had hoped it would be the evidence she needed to save herself from her torment. How naive she was.

Nezumi’s eyes glanced from his clipboard to Nami’s shoulder and back again. Normally, he looked upon her with indifference. She was nothing to him. An indirect source of income. But this time, there was something different in his eyes. Something hungry.

Nami followed his eye line and realized just how much skin she was showing the miserable rat of a man. This top was way too low-cut to be pulling it down like she was. She hurriedly covered herself up, crossing her arms over her chest to try and salvage even a crumb of dignity. “Are you done?” she growled, embarrassed and angry.

“I know how the rest of this goes,” Nezumi said, his eyes taking far too long to meet Nami's own. “I can finish the rest myself.”

“Great,” Nami replied tersely. “This is the last time I ever have to see you, so get the fuck out of my house.”

Nezumi's usual passivity faltered for a moment. Instead of his typical look of boredom, he smirked, the corner of his mouth rising in condescension. “I wouldn't be too sure about that,” he said, eyeing her up and down. “I've heard about your little arrangement with your father. And of his plans for you, should you fail.” If his eyes could shoot lasers, Nami would have holes burned into her breasts. She turned her chest away from him, trying to shield herself from his gaze.

“You know,” Nezumi scratched his chin. “I could help you with your end of the bargain. Provided you have an appropriate… service in exchange.”

Nami didn't hesitate, “I said: get the fuck out!”

The rat huffed but made his way to the door. Stepping outside, he turned back to the girl, “I would be careful who you spurn, young lady. You never know who is going to be at the front of the line for your new line of work.”

Nami slammed the door in his face. Her stomach rolled as she did up every lock in the place. Her skin crawled as she allowed herself to take a step back from that horror scenario. She often felt gross after dealing with Nezumi before, but she hadn't ever felt physically dirty.

Nami marched to the bathroom, her blood boiling. She threw open the valve, ripping her clothes off without a second thought. She stepped under the spray, steeling herself for the icy blast before the heat rose to boiling levels. But she didn't care. If anything, it was what she needed.

Nami scrubbed at her arms, her legs, her face, doing everything she could to cleanse herself of the filth of Nezumi's presence. But no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn't wash away the feeling of his eyes on her. The gravity of his threats. The unease in her stomach.

She scrubbed and scrubbed until the scalding water and the bristly washcloth turned her skin pink. As intensely as she did, she didn't notice her hands were shaking until the washcloth fell to the floor. Nami stood frozen for a moment, staring at the empty space before her. When she blinked, she slumped forward, bracing herself against the slick tiles.

How was she going to get herself out of this? Six days and $7,500. Six days until she got used and abused as a cheap whore. Nami gritted her teeth. No. She would be an expensive-as-hell whore. She'd do high-class escort shit.

She sighed, the tension melting into sorrow. She had no idea what she was going to do. There wasn't enough time to line up another target. That required much more than a week to nail down his schedule. Her fingers clenched against the tile, trying to dig through. Trying to find a place where she could seal herself away and hide from all of her troubles.

As her head dropped lower, her unfocused eyes saw the blurred shape of her body, water running down her curves. She could probably find some creep online who would pay $7,500 to take her vir-

Her fist slammed into the tile, pain shooting up her arm. That was what she needed. Something she could focus on. Something centering. Something real. She must have hit the wall hard because the sound kept echoing long after it should have.

Steadying her breath, Nami stood up straight. As she pulled her hand from the wall, small ceramic shards came with it. Blood began to trickle from her knuckles, washing away as it mixed with the running water. She watched as the small whirlpool, spinning and swirling as it went down the drain, turned a light shade of pink. It wasn't a deep cut, but it was enough to get her mind clear.

Turning off the faucet, Nami stepped out of the shower, water dripping all over the floor. She had been trying to avoid it, but she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. Her hair was wet and matted. Her face was still burning from the force of her scouring of her skin. Her eyes looked sunken in, though that might have just been the despair causing a dysmorphic view of herself.

Sighing, Nami threw a towel over her head and did the bare minimum to get herself dry. Once done, she dropped the towel to the floor and used her foot to mop up the water before her sister gave her shit about it. She tossed the towel into the hamper and put her previously discarded clothes back on.

As she left the bathroom, she heard an insistent, wild pounding sound coming from down the hall. “Wasn't an echo…” she muttered to herself as she approached the front door. The knocks were too manic to be anything good. There was a slight rhythm to them, but they only got louder and louder. She could hear a voice beneath them, but whoever was knocking wasn't loud enough. Or was too loud. Perspective.

If this was Nezumi again, she was going to kill him. She didn't know how, all she knew was that she wanted to cause him bodily harm. Unlocking the door with equal aggression, Nami threw the door open with a furious, “WHAT?!”

The boy on the other side's face lit up at the sight of her. “Hi Nami!” he said with a grin. “Let's go!”

All of Nami's anger fizzled out in an instant. She gawked at Luffy, her brain stalling out. Her eyes blinked again and again, as if trying to force her mind to comprehend what they saw. A boy with sun-kissed skin, wearing a ratty t-shirt, rattier jeans, and even rattier sneakers. And that hat. That big, dumb, straw hat. “Wh- I- You…” she sputtered, unable to put a thought together.

Once everything caught back up to speed, Nami frowned, her eyebrows knitted together. “What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“I'm picking you up!” Luffy beamed, his smile never faltering. “Let's go!”

“Slow down!” Nami rubbed her temples, trying to ease the tension building between her eyes. “Pick me up for what?” she asked.

“To go see my band's show!” Luffy's feet were bouncing, clearly eager to get going. But he did not rush. Instead, he waited for her to join him. “Come on, let's go! It's our tabernacle date!”

“I-” Nami blinked a few more times as the conversation flooded back into her memory. It had only been two days, but so much had happened in that time. “How did you get that from technical?”

Luffy shrugged. Nami sighed, “Look, I've got a lot going on right now. I really can't afford to waste an entire night.”

The boy's smile fell, his peppy demeanor shifting at once to that of a puppy caught out in the rain. “But you promised…” he pouted, his lower lip sticking out, his eyes begging for attention.

Nami actually felt something twinge in her cold heart. It was so pathetic that it looped back around to being endearing. But she couldn't go. She needed money, and she wouldn't find it by watching a band play a set. “I'm sorry, but-”

A voice in her head cut her off. ‘Music venues can be great sources of financial gain,’ it said.

‘Explain how!’ Nami demanded of her brain.

‘A large group of people tightly packed together is a prime target for a girl with fast hands and a desire for deep pockets.’

“Okay, just let me get changed,” Nami’s plans shifted in an instant. Luffy cheered, pumping his fist. If he was that excited about getting his fake girlfriend to agree to the same date for a second time, he would be extremely easy to please. She turned to head for her room but caught him following her to the threshold of her home.

Pushing him back by his chest, the redhead gave him a firm, “Nuh-uh.”

Luffy blinked, then frowned. “Why not?” he asked.

“Cause I'm about to change my clothes. Duh.” Nami planted a hand on the doorframe, determined to keep him from entering her home.

“But we both changed clothes last time!” Luffy whined.

The memory of his bare ass flashed in Nami's mind for a split second. She ignored it. “And that was for a specific situation.” She frowned, gesturing between the two of them. “This isn't real. I'm not your girlfriend.”

“I know that,” Luffy pouted. His eyes rose slowly to meet hers, a quiet gaze of trepidation coming from them. “But, we're friends, aren't we?”

“Sure, whatever,” Nami sighed. Luffy's smile radiated pure happiness, a wide display of gleaming teeth. He made to take a step forward when she pushed him back once more. He flailed backward for a moment until he regained his footing. “And friends don't barge in when the other is changing!” Nami added.

Planting his outstretched foot on the ground, Luffy looked up at the clouds in the amber sky, the sun just beginning to set. “Is that why Usopp got so mad at me?” he pondered.

“Probably,” Nami said with a curt smile. “Think about it while you wait outside.” And with that, she slammed the door in his face. She sighed, pressing her head against the solid wood, sliding her hands down the door.

Friends.

Nami didn't have friends. She had no time for such luxuries. There were some people over the years who had tried to get close to her. But she always kept them at arm's length. Her usual excuse was that she had to work, and it wasn't entirely a lie. It just wasn't a typical girl's line of work.

In her state, Nami needed parental permission in order to get a job. And Arlong would never let things be so easy for her. If she wanted that house, she had to get that money with her own two hands. The bastard considered a paycheck to be a handout. This left her no time to make friends or even socialize.

Then along comes this boy. A boy who she had only been “dating” for a few days now and was already pushing for friendship? Ugh. Her feelings toward “her new man” were less than stellar. But hey, at least he wasn't threatening to fuck her.

Small victories.

Nami opened her closet, eyes darting to and fro to choose an outfit. While her wardrobe wasn't expansive, she at least had variety. For a girl who saves as much money as she could and only spent on essentials, she had a decent set of clothes to pick through.

Her clothes came down to two categories: Nojiko hand-me-downs and stolen. Sometimes, she would lift a coat as well as cash from one of her marks. A few adjustments with a needle and thread later, and she had something cute to wear out. And as long as they didn't have security tags, Nami found it incredibly easy to shoplift from clothing stores. All she had to do was try on so many outfits that the clerk would lose track of what she came in wearing. Which would be tucked into her purse as she walked out in a brand new ensemble.

Eventually, Nami decided on a sort of neutral outfit. She wasn't actually sure what sort of venue Luffy was taking her to or what kind of music his band played. So she played it safe with a leather jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. Torn from the rigors of use, yet stylishly convenient. The heeled boots she grabbed zipped up smoothly, tucking beneath the legs of her jeans. As for makeup, she didn't have too much on hand, as she hadn't made a five-finger run in a while. She settled for some lip gloss and called it a day.

Returning to the door, she gave her hair a last-minute check in a nearby mirror. She hadn't had time to style or even brush it after her shower. But the way it had dried had left it in that kind of tousled kind of bedraggled kind of sexy way. She smirked at her reflection, grabbed a purse slung from the wall, and opened the door.

While she wasn't here to impress Luffy, she would have preferred more of a reaction to her getting dressed up than nothing at all. He smiled, at least, but he always smiled when he saw her. Or anyone else, she assumed. It wasn't like they actually hung out or anything. “Alright, let's go!” Luffy cheered, making his way to the road.

Nami followed after him for a few steps but paused before she could close her door. “Uh, where's your car?” she asked her fake boyfriend.

Luffy stopped in his tracks and glanced back at her with a puzzled look. “What car?” he asked.

Nami groaned and stomped back into her house. Quickly, she kicked her boots off and found a pair of heavier but flat boots nearby. And since they were hoofing it to this place, she put a little extra bit of security into it. The cold metal against her calf was comforting.

Returning to the outdoors, she rejoined Luffy, who hadn't moved from his spot. Nami stopped a few paces away from him, watching him expectantly. When he did nothing but maintain that dumb smile on his face, she prodded, “Well?”

Luffy blinked. “Well what?”

Nami's stare grew more intense. “I don't know where we're going,” she said. Luffy blinked a few more times. She had to get more direct, “Lead the way, dumbass!”

“Oh, right!” Luffy giggled and began walking down the street. With a huff, Nami followed after him.

They hadn't gone five steps before another problem reared its head. Crossing the fence line past the neighbor's house, Nami saw Genzo standing by his front door, a bag of groceries propped up on his arm. His other hand was digging in his pocket, no doubt searching for his keys.

“Oh, shit,” Nami hissed, quickly turning her head to avoid making eye contact. It wasn't like she could prevent him from noticing her distinctive orange hair. But she could at least get some plausible deniability. If he didn't see her seeing him, then neither of them would ever bring this up.

Taking a risk, Nami carefully turned her head, checking to see if the older man had gone inside yet. Only to make direct eye contact with him. His eyes were narrowed, his brows furrowed. He didn't look angry, more that he was straining his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly. The redhead whipped said head forward, speeding up her pace as she felt her cheeks beginning to heat up.

She wanted nothing more than to run away, to avoid dealing with this. But for once, she wasn't alone. Would Luffy grasp the situation if she began to run? Would he know that she was just trying to rush forward one block? That she wasn't trying to leave him behind, that he should run with her? The only way she could think to silently get that across would be to grab his hand and pull him with her.

But there was no way in hell she was going to hold hands with a boy right in front of Genzo. The thought alone-

A large, calloused hand wrapped around hers. “Hurry up, slowpoke!” Luffy laughed, pulling her with him as he rushed forward. Nami stumbled, unprepared for the sudden shift in speed. She felt Luffy squeeze her hand tighter for a second. Was he making sure she didn't fall?

Her heart only skipped a beat because she tripped. No other reasons.

As they ran down the sidewalk, Nami chanced a glance behind her. Genzo was still standing in his front yard, watching the two of them. Though he was shrinking into the distance, Nami's eyes were good enough to make out one small detail on his weather-worn face. Was… was he smiling?

Oh god, that was so much worse!

************************************************

The pair arrived at the venue about a half hour later. On their way, once Luffy had slowed his pace back down to a walk, Nami entertained the idea of continuing to walk hand-in-hand. But with no one around, she wasn't going to do a performative relationship act. She pulled her hand away, watching him out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. If he was getting too invested in this farce, if he was getting emotions involved, she was out. But if he reacted at all, she didn't notice.

Good.

The building he brought her to had seen better days. The walls were worn with sun-bleached paint. The roof looked like it could cave in any second. A line was stretching out from the door, but it didn't even reach the first corner of the building. Nami ignored the bouncer tossing a drunk out on his ass to look up at the sign, the sunset behind them nearly gone. As the light started to fade, she caught sight of a broken neon sign that blinked out the words, “Loguetown Rock.”

“Weird name,” she noted.

“Naming things is hard. I’m sure whoever came up with it tried their best,” Luffy said and looked directly into camera.

“What’s that?” Nami asked, peering over his shoulder.

“Usopp said it’s a check-in thingy for the bands,” Luffy sort of explained. “I dunno. Whenever we come here I have to look at this thing or they won't let me in. It’s really annoying, but they don't make me pay for tickets when I do it.”

Nami raised an eyebrow with a frown. “Looking at a camera is annoying?” she asked, tilting her head for a better view. Her hair trailed down, tickling the back of Luffy's neck.

“No, having to fight the security guys to get in when I don't want to do it,” Luffy giggled. “But everyone said tonight is too important to mess up, so I gotta look at the stupid thing.”

“I’m sure it’s thinking the same thing,” Nami patted him on the back as she stood to her full height. A speaker on the wall squawked as it sputtered to life.

“Luffy, I told you that you can't bring people in this door,” came a bored, tinny voice from the small box. “Staff and band members only.”

“Aw man,” Luffy lost his enthusiasm for only a moment before remembering the magic words he was supposed to say. “But she's my girlfriend!”

“Dude, come on,” the voice didn't sound impressed. “We all know you. No one's gonna buy that.”

“I'm not lying!” Luffy pouted, stomping his foot like the child he was.

Nami placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Chill,” she told him, her voice calm and soothing. She leaned over to the squawkbox and, feeling a little bashful. She was going “public” with this for the first time, but doing it to a stranger over the radio waves made it all a lot easier.

“He's not lying,” she said into the speaker. “We've been dating for a couple of months now.” She played it cool, but she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

“No shit?” The voice faded into silence. There was a pause before the speakerbox buzzed again. “Take a step forward,” the voice said. “Let me get a look at you.”

“Feels gross, but alright,” Nami muttered to herself. She took Luffy's place in front of the camera, awkwardly shifting about as she stood there. It wasn't like she was a model or anything. She didn't know what to do with her hands.

“Oh damn, you're hot!” the voice perked up at the sight of her. “Yeah, come on in!” There was a loud buzz as the door in front of them unlocked. Luffy popped it open, but Nami stayed where she was.

“Wait, what?” she asked. “What does-”

“More hot girls means more desperate guys means more drinks sold when they need to cope with rejection,” the voice explained all at once. “If you're feeling objectified, you can always pay for a ticket.”

“You're so sweet, thanks so much!” Nami was all smiles as she threw the door open, dragging Luffy in behind her. The inside wasn't much better than the outside. The first thing she noticed was the thick stench of cigarettes. She had to stifle a cough as her nose burned. It wasn't like she was unused to them; Nojiko smoked. But she at least had the courtesy to do it outside.

Layered underneath the smoke was the smell of sweat, beer, and, based on some of the guys who turned to look at her as she walked out onto the floor, desperation. The walls were adorned with graffiti and faded, torn posters of long-forgotten rock bands. The ceiling was lined with fluorescent lights; the buzzing could just barely be heard over the band currently playing.

She left Luffy's hand on her shoulder, and, leaning in, he said loudly, “I gotta go backstage!”

“Am I allowed back there?” Nami called back, both of them having to yell as the band got louder.

“I don't think so?” Luffy scratched at his cheek, maybe embarrassed, maybe confused.

Nami scoffed, “What, so for our date I have to throw myself into a swarm of creepy guys so you can play music at a shitty club?”

“Uhhhh…” Luffy's eyes darted this way and that as his brain fried itself trying to find a solution.

“It's fine!” Nami said, wryly. “Go get set up!” Luffy, relieved, smiled and stepped back from her. Before he could take a second, she shot her hand out, grabbing his shirt. “I'm just letting you know, if any creep grabs my ass, I'm breaking your fingers too.”

“Deal!” Luffy laughed and patted her on the back a little too hard. He finally took off, leaving Nami with the wolves.

She rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly at the stinging sensation on her back. “Idiot…” she muttered, unaware of the smile threatening to curve her lips. She glanced around, eyeing the people around her. Rebellious teenagers and disaffected young adults mingled around, mostly ignoring the band on stage. The dance floor, or whatever you called it here, was practically empty. No one cared for… Nami looked around for any sort of signage indicating the band's name and took her lack of findings as permission to ignore them entirely.

There weren't enough people clumped together for her to get started, so there was only one thing she could do for now. “I need a drink…” she said to herself. Her eyes darted from person to person, gauging the desperation versus danger levels. She needed someone sleazy enough to buy her a drink, but too pathetic to try anything after. As she narrowed down her options, she put a plan into motion.

Approaching the bar, Nami unzipped the first third of her jacket. Just enough cleavage peaked out to give someone a view, but not so much that she was making it obvious. She hung out near the bar, being hot, waiting for some chump to buy her a drink.

************************************************

Solo cup in hand, Nami made her way back to the stage. The crowd was building, so hopefully, the music would start improving. There had been multiple changes on stage, different people filing in and out, carting their instruments across the stage. It was all so dysfunctional. There wasn't even an MC.

She saw posters for a Battle of the Bands, but this couldn't be that, could it? One would figure that something with a cash prize would have some degree of professionalism to it. Whatever, it didn't matter. She wasn't here for any of that in the first place.

Nami was there to fulfill her role as a supportive "girlfriend." To put up with her man’s early onset midlife crisis with a smile. And if she was lucky, some cover band would play songs off her favorite Rolling Stones record.

Sticky Fingers.

She got to work. It was even easier than she had imagined. Half of the guys in attendance were wearing loose cargo pants. She could have torn the entire pocket off and they’d never have noticed. The other half were wearing skinny jeans and leather pants so tight that she barely had to try to get the wallets flying out. Of course, these guys noticed something happening. But Nami would melt into the crowd without a hint of suspicion.

The additional weight made her purse jostle as she moved. No one gave her a second look as she held it to her chest. Clearly, she was keeping herself safe from pickpockets. Smart girl.

Nami finally settled in a few people back from the stage, satisfied with her haul. She had no way of knowing how much she had grabbed, but it was certainly more than she would have gotten by moping around at home. She would have to thank Luffy for this outing later. He really saved… No, she did this herself. He was just the vehicle that brought her here.

Still, a thanks for a good night out wouldn't hurt. A good night so far, at least.

She heard him before she saw him. Loud and energetic as always. Even more so, considering he was about to put on a show. He walked out on stage, a guitar slung at his side. Following behind him was Usopp, which made sense. The two were practically inseparable at school, of course they would be in a band together. Usopp was hurriedly setting up a keyboard, the poor kid already sweating.

The drummer was next down the line. His kit had seen better days, but it still looked intact. He himself was pretty well built, his muscled arms seemed to be thicker around than a nearby pillar. Nami felt the briefest flash of insecurity as her eyes glanced over his, frankly obscene pecs. She satisfied herself by being catty about his hair dye. Green was not his color.

The final member of this quartet came through the thin red vinyl curtain with a flourish. He stepped up to the microphone, bass in hand, and-

“Oh, Sanji's in this?” Nami said with a grimace.

“We are the Straw Hats!” Luffy bellowed into the mic. For once, the crowd erupted in cheers. Her “boyfriend” had turned out to be fairly popular. But that name… Oh god, was his hat a gimmick? Was she “dating” a guy who used props? Her fears were worsened when Sanji shoved Luffy aside, much to the crowd’s delight.

Oh god, they did bits, too.

Taking his position at the front, the blond man scanned the crowd as he adjusted his bass. Nami could have sworn his eyes paused for the briefest of seconds as they crossed over her, but it was too quick to tell. Either way, he took a long drag off his cigarette before dropping it onto the stage, putting it out with his shoe.

Nami’s attention was shot over to the drummer when he clapped his sticks together, counting out the beat of their first song. And—wait, why was there a third drumstick in his mouth? She ignored the words “Oral Fixation” blaring in her mind as she tried to focus on the music.

Now, Nami would be the first to tell you that rock wasn’t really her thing. It was loud, it was angry, it was never what she was in the mood for. She gravitated towards music that was slower and more soothing. Usually, as background noise while she worked on a drawing. Lo-fi, Jazz, her mom had some old Blues records that survived a year of abandonment. Those, and any CDs she could swipe off a Starbucks counter.

But even she had to admit, the sound of Luffy's band winding up was… not entirely unpleasant. It was a chaotic, messy blend of aggressive drums, chunky bass, and discordant yet strangely harmonic keyboard chords. But somehow, with Luffy wailing on his guitar in the center, it all came together, his fingers dancing much more nimbly than she would have ever expected over the frets.

A strange thrill coursed through Nami's body. The crowd’s energy was contagious, and as reserved as she made herself be, she still felt her foot tapping along to the beat on the sticky floor. Her hips slightly swayed to the rhythm as she took in a new side of the boy she came here with. He was in his element. Usually, he was a goofball. But up there on that stage, he was something else. Not quite a rockstar, but she could actually see it happen. He had charisma. He could do it.

For Nami’s lack of experience with rock bands, she was ill-equipped to tell the difference between songs. She could hardly tell when one ended and another began. Maybe that was a good thing? She wasn't sure. All she could do was take it in.

Usopp was full of unexpected surprises for her. She knew him only as that kid who always ran his mouth and got himself and his friends into trouble. If he could be believed, he had 500 friends, all willing to lay their lives down for him. Nami hardly bought a word of it. But she did have to admit, he brought something special with him. His fingers flew over his keys, fueling the song with electronic melodies.

The drummer was going to town on his kit. If Nami thought his arms were big before, she hadn't seen them in motion. He brought a pretty unsettling intensity and sharpness to the skins. The third drumstick looked like it was cracking, he was clenching it in his teeth so hard. Just as Nami was beginning to think it was an anti-seizure technique, he whipped his head down to crash the stick across the cymbals. His neck bent at a terrifying angle, but he got right back up like nothing happened.

And then there was Sanji. Nami could feel the pulse of his bass in her bones. He slapped at the strings, the thick metal cords vibrating through the very souls of the audience. And she couldn't deny that he was a good singer. His smooth baritone voice sang out about love and rebellion. But there was always an undertone of something salacious in his words. The lyrics were just shy of obscene, leaving the girl convinced that every single one of their songs was about sex.

As the next song began or the extremely long opening number slowed down, she really had no way of telling, Luffy moved to the front of the stage. This time, Sanji didn't smack him aside, solidifying in Nami's mind that it was a standing order that Luffy was not allowed near the microphone. Most likely, because he was loud enough to blow out the speakers.

But this was different. Luffy wasn't jamming and yelling and bouncing around the stage like he had been. The rest of the band slowed their pace, the music getting quieter. Nami watched on as her “boyfriend” adjusted the strap on his guitar. As he widened his stance. As he licked his lips. Was he tasting the sweat that had started to drip from his hair? Or were his lips dry, from his nerves trying to get the better of him? He lifted his pick, drawing the moment out. The air was electric, the crowd holding their breath, waiting for him to bring the house down.

It only took one note.

One, singular strum of his guitar, one little pluck of a string, and he had the entire venue in the palm of his hand. That one note was followed by two, then three, then a chord, then four chords, then more. The music was good, that much was certain. But there was something more. There was something about the boy himself. Something that drew others to him, an undeniable charisma that put him above the rest.

No other members of his band could have been the leader. None of them could pull everyone together like this, fans and band alike. These boys would be huge someday, and all of these people were on the ground floor to witness something magical. The birth of a rockstar. A young bird embarking on its maiden flight. A soon-to-be King.

But for Nami, none of that mattered. She didn't care about his career. She didn't care about record labels or music charts. All she cared about was the boy on stage, as much as she refused to admit it. She had only known him, really known him, for a few days now. A handful of hours. But he wanted her to be here. To watch him lay his soul bare. To show her who he truly was. It was a level of trust that she should have been uncomfortable with. But just like with everyone else, something about him drew her in. But for her, it was on a much, much more personal level. She watched him play, watched him pour every ounce of himself into his music.

And when his eyes met hers, everything around them melted away.

If he had been scanning the crowd, looking for her, she didn't know. What she did know was the moment he saw her, his whole face lit up. He had been smiling the whole time, small and tight-lipped as he focused on playing. But the sight of her had him grinning, his teeth flashing along with the stage lighting.

It was only the two of them now. Him on the stage, playing his song just for her. She felt her cheeks heating up, but all alone like they were, she couldn't blame it on the body heat from everyone around her. It took her a moment to realize she was smiling back at him. Muscles in her face that had gone unused for so long they hurt after only a few seconds. But it was more than enough to stretch his grin even wider. He was doing this for her, and it made her happy.

What more could he ever want?

His solo ended, and the crowd came rushing back. Luffy moved back to the rear of the stage, giving the front back to Sanji. Nami hugged her purse tighter, feeling the ice in her chest crack even deeper. She was in a daze, her head spinning. Her heart was pounding, and her face was burning. Her legs might have buckled at some point, but there were so many people packed around her that she couldn't have fallen if she wanted to. So then, what the hell was that? Was she…

…Did she…

…Could he…

Nami chanced a glance back up at him, but he wasn't looking her way anymore. He was bouncing over by Usopp, two sets of fingers wailing away at their instruments. She looked down at the floor, trying to steady her breathing. It was hard, considering the smell, but she got herself there. To a more rational frame of mind.

Something was happening to her. Luffy was doing something to her. Something she didn't like. Or did. Or… it was all so confusing and strange and… and…

Nami gritted her teeth, her fingers digging into her purse. Whatever feelings she was beginning to have, whatever flights of fancy her heart was begging to soar to, she shoved down into that deep pit where all of her positivity went. She had no time for friends. No time for romance. No time for anything but money. She was able to secure some sort of haul tonight thanks to Luffy, so she wasn't going to just bail on him. He earned that much. But she wasn't going to allow herself to fall for any fairytale love stories.

She had six days left before, one way or another, her life would change forever. Maybe after all this was settled, she could reconsider things. But for now, she felt her eyes glazing over as she waited for the music to end. The sooner the show was over, the sooner she could go home and count her money. She highly doubted she had managed to get her entire $7,500 from one night of picking pockets. Rock club attendees were not known for their wealth. She'd be lucky to have gotten $1,000.

So lost in thought she was over her money troubles that Nami hadn't noticed Luffy's band had finished their set and was leaving the stage. She hesitated, unsure where she should go. She wasn't going to head home without saying goodbye. It wouldn't take much time, and Luffy deserved that much, at least. Staying packed in with all these people was less than ideal, but she wasn't sure where she should go to flag him down.

Ultimately, she decided to stay in the crowd. She was the only one in the whole building with bright orange hair. She would be easy to find. The next band came on stage to an odd reception. The half of the crowd to her right let out a groan, while the half to her left was losing their minds. Nami took a better look at the stage, and her confusion only worsened.

“How’s everyone feeling tonight, party people?!" bellowed a man who was clearly past his prime. He wore a red and white striped shirt and a pair of green slacks. He should have been completely unremarkable. But his face was slathered with white greasepaint, his eyes marked with sea green lines, and above all else, he wore a big, dumb, red nose.

“This is Buggy's Big Top Bonanza!” he screeched, and the feedback from the microphone hurt Nami's ears. But not as much as the roar from her left. “Leave your money at the door and your panties on the floor!”

Barf

His drummer counted off, and they started their first song. Again, Nami was no rock music aficionado, but even she could tell these guys sucked. And it was even worse after the killer show Luffy and his boys had put on. She wanted to laugh, but she was way too close to some particularly sweaty fans of the clown. The last thing she wanted to do was piss someone off and not be able to make a run for it.

It didn't take long for the uninterested half of the crowd to begin dispersing. It gave Nami a bit more breathing room until the opposite half swarmed in. They spread further, cheering and jumping and swaying and bumping into her over and over again. She clutched her purse tightly, refusing to let a single piece of her bounty fall loose. She was beginning to regret staying in the crowd. If not for the sudden hazards, but for someone to think she could possibly be into this garbage band.

“You guys enjoying the show?” the man she assumed called himself Buggy asked over the diarrhea he called music. They screamed incoherently in response. “Well, then check this out!” Then the clown pulled out a set of knives. He hadn't been playing any instruments to begin with, solely doing crowd work. But now he started juggling knives, and Nami wanted to die.

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, someone put a hand on her shoulder. Better than her ass, but she still swung first. The boy just barely dodged her fist with a laugh, wrapping his arm around hers to keep a second set of knuckles from flying. “Hey, let's get out of here!” Luffy had to shout to be heard over the train wreck. “This band sucks!”

“What the fuck did you just say?!” squealed some loser fanboy standing next to them.

“I said this music sucks!” Luffy repeated himself, ignoring any danger he might have been walking into. “I'm gonna take my girlfriend and go now!”

“Not without a knuckle sandwich you aren't!” the fanboy shouted, cocking back his fist.

“Wait, they have sandwiches here?!" Luffy whipped his head around, clearly rattled at not noticing food in his proximity.

“Luffy!” Nami yelled as the fanboy threw his punch. She wasn't used to getting into fights. If things ever got violent for her, she handled them quickly and by surprise. So when she watched this guy’s fist trailing forward, she was so confused as to how slow it was.

Luffy dodged it even more easily than hers. His smile never faltered, but he did drive his knee into the fanboy’s gut. He doubled over, his legs falling out beneath him. As he fell, he bumped into some other guy on his way down.

“Watch it!” the other guy yelled, turning to see Luffy standing over his fallen comrade. “What's your problem, asshole?!” he shouted, throwing another incredibly slow punch. Luffy blinked, leaning back to dodge the blow effortlessly. His left arm darted forward, a light jab making contact with the other guy's nose.

He screeched as blood began to flow from his nostrils. “By dose!” he shouted, falling onto his ass. The surrounding people turned to look, and all hell broke loose.

Buggy's fanboys charged at Luffy, often colliding with each other on their way. They would swing back at the one who bumped them, miss, and hit someone else. This spread like wildfire until Nami found herself at the epicenter of a near instantaneous moshpit. It felt like bodies were flying left and right as she was caught in a whirlpool of violence. She held her purse to her chest with one hand while she held any would-be attackers at bay. “Luffy! You idiot!” she yelled. If he heard her over all the shouting, she couldn't hear his response because of the same.

Meanwhile, on the stage, Buggy couldn't understand why he was losing his usually enraptured audience. “What’s going on down there?!” he yelled. “What’s with all the fighti- ah shit!” The clown had made a crucial error. He got distracted while juggling. And knives at that. One of them came down at a wrong angle, nicking his finger. He lost his timing, his hands slapping uselessly at the knives in midair. His fumbling attempts to regain control over them only made things worse as he accidentally sent the trio of blades hurtling into the crowd.

It just so happened that the moshpit had parted ever so slightly. No one did it intentionally. All of them were knocked back by a punch, or leaning into their own, or were simply too short. What it meant was those knives had an uninterrupted trajectory that sent them straight at the redhead and her “boyfriend”.

At the very least, both of them clocked it in time. “Luffy!” Nami yelled, clutching his shirt and pulling him forward.

“Nami!” Luffy shouted at the same time, pushing her down by her shoulders. The two of them went crashing to the filthy, sticky floor in a tangle of limbs, just as a horrifying swishing sound flew overhead.

Lying atop her, Luffy looked down into Nami’s deep brown eyes. They looked back up at him in a daze, unfocused and soft. Her face was flushed from exertion and absolutely nothing else. Even though a cute boy was on top of her. And his arms were wrapped around her, instinctively shielding her from harm. And his knee was right between her legs, applying pressure in just the right way. Her purse had fallen to the side, leaving nothing to keep his chest from pressing into hers.

Tentatively, she raised a hand, brushing it lightly against his cheek. “Luffy…?” Her voice was soft, almost inaudible.

Luffy swallowed the lump in his throat and answered, “...Y- yeah?” His arms tightened around her, hesitant but warm.

Nami blinked, and the dreamlike trance vanished from her eyes. “There are people stomping all around us, this floor is gross, and you’re heavy,” she deadpanned. “Get off.”

“Oh! Right!” The boy laughed nervously as he hopped up. Offering her a hand, he helped his “girlfriend” to her feet. She snatched up her purse on her way back up. Due to the two of them lying flat, the moshpit had naturally formed a calm zone around them. An eye of the storm, if you will. It gave them a brief moment of space and time to collect themselves. Nami made sure none of her spoils had fallen from her purse, but Luffy looked around at people’s feet.

“What?” Nami asked him when he started sniffing around her bag. She held it closer to her chest, hoping he would take the hint.

“My hat is gone,” he said, a touch of anxiety as his voice quavered. “I can't find it…” He shrank into himself, like part of him was missing.

“What, that straw hat you wear all the time?” Nami asked. He nodded, sniffling. She would have been glad to leave it be, but her eye caught something behind him. She couldn't help the small reaction, as much as she tried. He turned, following her line of sight, and gasped.

There, on a support beam, was Luffy’s hat. But unfortunately for him, it was impaled into the wood thanks to three misjuggled knives. When the two of them hit the deck, it must have gotten just enough hang time in the air to get caught.

Luffy stared at it for a while, his head slowly tilting as his brain processed the information. Nami tentatively reached out a hand. Before she could make contact, Luffy had whipped himself around. His fury billowed out of him like steam. Nami didn't have time to react before he stomped off, shoving his way through the crowd as he approached the stage.

Buggy’s band stopped playing as the boy hoisted himself onto the platform. The clown looked from the moshing crowd to the angry boy and asked into the mic, “Jesus, does this place not have security or what?”

A voice called out from the back, “What, are you gonna pay for it?” Buggy grumbled and pulled away from the mic.

He stared at Luffy for a moment before throwing up his hands in exasperation and asking, “Alright, what do you want?!”

“You broke my hat.” His voice was calm. So out of character. It was unnerving.

“So?” Buggy barked out a laugh. “I don’t care about your stupid hat!” He glanced to the side, seeing it stuck into the pillar. He grimaced. “Damn thing reminds me of-”

“I’m gonna break your nose.”

“Huh?” was all Buggy got out before a fist plowed into his face. That big, dumb, red nose didn’t move an inch, aside from inward for a moment. Wait, was that thing real? Oh god, that’s horrible.

Buggy’s bandmates scrambled to get over and away from their instruments to pile onto Luffy. The clown himself was already on the ground, rolling as he screamed in agony. Luffy took a few hits from the band members. He threw some good punches, but there were too many for him to handle alone.

Just as he was getting overwhelmed, a shout ripped through the venue. A shout of, “Oh, goddammit Luffy!” The next thing Nami knew, a mass of muscle and green hair leapt onto the stage, swinging a chair at one of the band members. The one with the shitty haircut. It smashed to pieces over his head, sending him to the floor with a sickening crash.

Sanji hopped up next, a fresh cigarette lit as he dodged a punch, then another, then another. He was practically dancing with this guy he was so light on his feet. And speaking of, he spun, swinging his long leg in a wide arc to bring the heel of his shoe crashing across another band member's jaw. The one with the shitty haircut.

Actually, that described all of these guys.

Another band member swung a guitar at Luffy, too enraged to protect his equipment. Before he could connect, a beer bottle smashed across his face. Nami followed the trajectory to see Usopp hiding behind an overturned table off the side of the stage, a stack of bottles next to him. As cowardly as he was, every single throw hit its mark.

At this point, Luffy was laughing. Wait, really? Wasn't he pissed just a second ago? “We should do this more often!” he cheered as he leaned back to drive his foot into Buggy's ribs.

“SHUT UP, DUMBASS!” Sanji and the drummer shouted in unison. The two of them took a moment to frown at each other before returning to the fight.

The crowd had quieted down, too entertained by the fight to keep launching blows at each other. Nami had been backing away from anyone coming near, worried they would go after her since they might have seen her with Luffy. But no one noticed or cared, all the way until she bumped into a pillar, a patch of straw scratching at the exposed nape of her neck.

The fight raged on for a while, Luffy and his friends eventually having to fight off crowd members as they climbed on stage. Things only came to a close when someone near the door screamed, “IT'S THE COPS!”

At once, the crowd scattered. The sound of sirens could just barely be heard over the panicked screams of terrified showgoers. They stampeded towards the door, crushing everything in their way underfoot. Nami couldn't move from her spot, all her effort devoted to keep from being trampled.

“Let's go!” she could faintly hear Luffy cheering and laughing over the crowd, but it didn't matter. She had to get the fuck out of there. If she got caught and the cops looked through her purse, she'd never get another chance to make her money. Escape was the only option. But the longer she took, the worse her odds got. Just as the panic was beginning to spill from the crowd to her, she finally felt it.

A hand on her ass.

Really?! Now?! Of all times! Before she could react, the hand slipped lower to the back of her thigh. As she twisted to throw her elbow back, she felt her feet lift off the floor. She squirmed, trying to wriggle out of her assailant's grasp until she saw a familiar grin looking down at her.

“What are you doing standing around for?” Luffy giggled as she kicked at the air. Holding her close, he shouted, “Let's get outta here!”

All at once, he burst into motion, sprinting at full force while carrying a girl in his arms. He juked and dodged the sea of terrified losers, ducking and weaving his way toward the side exit they came in through. She screamed, torn between clinging to him or her purse.

Ultimately, she chose both. One arm managed to slip through the straps, keeping it connected to her even if it fell from her grasp. The other she reached up to wrap around the back of his neck, clinging tight and burying her face in his chest. She felt more than heard him kick the door open. Once he reached the open air, he sped up, like that was even possible at this point.

He raced towards the street, ignoring the approaching red and blue lights. As the cop car whipped around the corner, Nami raised her head. “Luffy…” she called out. He didn't slow. “Luffy!” she cried. Still, nothing. “LUFFY!”

Just as she was about to get flattened, she felt the boy duck low for a moment before springing upward. Even carrying her weight, he had enough power in his legs to send them both up on top of the quickly braking cruiser. She screamed the whole time. Luffy landed on the hood, his knees bent. Keeping his momentum, he launched himself forward, leaving the sound of denting metal and cracking glass behind him. And a gruff voice shouting, “You damn kids!”

Luffy landed on his feet, his grip on Nami's back and legs relaxing as he laughed and ran. She gazed up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You're crazy!” she yelled, her heart nearly exploding out of her chest.

“Crazy about you!” Luffy yelled as he ducked into the tree line. He had to slow down for a moment to duck under a low-hanging branch. It gave him enough time to pause and ask, “Is that what a good boyfriend would say there?”

Nami snorted. That brought back his laughter. The pair's giggling could be heard echoing through the trees as the sirens faded off into the distance. She didn't know where he was taking her, but she was along for the ride.

Maybe she was crazy too.

Crazy about…

Nah. Not quite yet.

Chapter Text

The van chugged through the night, the engine low as it rumbled past the scattered crowd and flashing police lights. The driver kept his head low, grumbling over the lack of a payday. As they rounded a corner, their headlights illuminated a raging clown being shoved into the back of a squad car.

“What?” he screeched, his big red nose even bigger and redder. “I thought this was America!” The cop, a barrel-chested oak of a man in the twilight of his career, rolled his eyes as he stuffed the clown into the back of his squad car and slammed the door shut.

The cop's partner, wearing a fedora rather than a service cap, was busy staring at the front of the car. He shook his head at the massive dent in the hood and the splintering crack down the center of the windshield.

Crossing his arms with a deep frown, the older cop walked over to his partner. “Damn kids,” he muttered irritably. He nudged the younger man. “You get a good look at them?”

“Two youths,” the younger cop recounted from memory. “One male, one female. The male was carrying the female as he ran. I missed any further details once they made contact with the hood, thanks to your arm. …Sir.”

The older cop huffed. “Thought the windshield was going to smash in,” he was clearly embarrassed. “Reflexes. Sorry.”

“I appreciate it all the same, sir,” said the younger cop.

The occupants of the van turned to each other upon overhearing the two officers. They didn't need to speak. In an instant, all three grasped the situation. They nodded to each other and marked the direction leading from the cop car.

Before they could start driving away, the older cop finally paid attention to the engine rumbling behind him. “Keep moving!” he barked at them. The driver gave him a mocking salute before accelerating forward. The cop's frown deepened as he watched them drive past. Needing to have the final word, he shouted, “And get that muffler fixed!”

In response, the van's engine revved louder a few times before turning the corner towards the trees. The cop watched as their taillights faded into the distance. “I know I say children are the future,” he said to his partner. “But some of them can be real assholes.”

“As can anyone, sir,” his partner said before sliding into the passenger seat. The older cop gave one last grunt before driving the clown to jail.

************************************************

It felt like they had been in the woods for hours. Days. Weeks. About a month. But in reality, it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. Luffy looked this way and that, searching for a path forward.

“Hmmm… It's colder this way, so South must be the other way…” He made small, concentric circles as he paced around.

“Luffy.”

Smoke was practically billowing from his ears as he tried his heart out to come up with a plan. “Maybe I could light a signal fire?…”

“Luffy!”

“Oh, I know! If I climb a tree, I'll be able to see for miles and miles and-”

“LUFFY!” She had to pinch his cheek to get him to pay attention to her.

“Ow!” He finally looked down at her. “Whaaaat?” he whined.

She looked up at him from her position, still in his arms. “Put me down.”

“Oh! Sorry!” He laughed as he gently lowered her feet to the ground. The moment she stood under her own power, she stumbled. Her arm swung up to clutch his shoulder, her legs wobbling. “Are you okay?” Luffy asked.

“I'm fine,” Nami grimaced. “My legs fell asleep.” Another flare of tingling spikes shot up as her nerves weren't going to stop waking up anytime soon. She found herself leaning against him, pressing her weight into his side. In what she hoped was a reflex as well, she felt his arm wrap around her, his big hand resting at the top of her hip.

Cooking an eyebrow, she gave him a side-eye glance. He noticed and looked at her, a question in his eyes. She glanced down at his hand, then back up to him. He pursed his lips and asked, “What?” She frowned. Was he messing with her? She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it. “You said the waist was okay.”

The memory of that conversation flashed in her mind. She closed her eyes, feeling her head rest against his shoulder. “I did, didn't I?” she sighed. A small, very small part of herself wanted to stay like that. She had finished her work for the night. She could afford to spend time on comfort. Standing there, in his half-embrace. It was warm. It was nice. It was-

His grip on her hip tightened, pulling her closer against him.

Alright, that's enough of that. Nami pulled away, wresting herself from Luffy's grasp. She readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder and asked, “Okay, do you know where we are?”

Luffy pursed his lips together, blinking his eyes as he looked around them. He looked back at her and confidently said, “The woods.”

She wanted to smack him upside the head. Instead, she asked, “Why aren't you using your phone's GPS?”

He inhaled for a while, eventually admitting, “Because I forgot it was there.” When he didn't make a further move, Nami's pointed stare sent his hand into his pocket. He tapped away at his phone for a minute before slowly lowering it back down. With a sheepish grin, he said, “No signal.”

Nami groaned. She looked up above them but saw nothing but trees. “Alright, let's get to a clearing.” She marched off into the darkness.

“Hm?” Luffy cocked his head before following behind her. “What for?”

“So I can get us out of here,” Nami said, hopping over a fallen log. As she made her way over uneven terrain and through dense foliage, she was so happy that she had traded her heels for these boots. She would have snapped her ankle by now. Or have had Luffy carry her the whole time. And there was no way in hell she was going to let herself be manhandled.

A few minutes of silent walking later, and the pair found a patch of moonlight streaming through the branches. Nami let it wash over her, staring up at the stars. Her eyes darted from one to the next before turning to the ground. “Do you remember the street layout at the club?” she asked Luffy. She grabbed a stick and knelt by a patch of dirt.

“Uh, no? Kinda?” he squatted next to her, watching as she scraped lines in the soil.

"This was the main road," she whispered, her words merely a conduit for the vivid energy of her thoughts. “I’m pretty sure there was a side road down here…” Lines branched off from other lines. “There was another turn down this way, but that’s too far off…” Part of the stick snapped off. She chucked it aside and kept working.

“You started from here,” she poked the stick roughly a third of the way down the first line. “Ran more or less straight on for a while.” She drew a line in the dirt, indicating Luffy's rough path. “So we should be within this general area.” The location was marked with a circle. “Left road is closer...” Nami dropped the stick and looked up to the sky once more. “That way is North, so…” she pointed in a direction, then turned 90 degrees to her left. “This way.”

Dusting the dirt off her knees, Nami hoisted her purse back to her shoulder and began making her way back to civilization. It took her a few steps to realize she didn't hear a second set of footsteps behind her. Turning back to check on Luffy, she found the boy staring slack-jawed at her. “What?”

His fists shot into the air as a smile exploded across his face. “That was so cool!” he shouted. His feet couldn't stay still. Too much energy had him bouncing around the trees. “How did you do that?”

There was an unfamiliar, uneasy feeling in Nami's gut. She didn't know it was pride. “It's just simple course charting. It's nothing special.” She gestured dismissively over her shoulder, “Can we go already?”

“Yeah!” Luffy clasped his hands behind his head as he led the way. “Man, what a night…” His feet froze in place as his voice trailed off. His hands began to pat at his head, becoming more and more frantic with each passing second. He whipped his head around, searching through the dark as his breathing grew faster, panicked.

“Luffy?” Nami took a step back, away from him. “You good?”

“My hat,” he was quiet, his voice weak. She had never heard him sound so small. “Where's my hat?”

“Oh, right,” Nami swung her purse around from her side. “Luffy!” she called him, trying to break through his anxiety. His ears must not have been working because he didn't react. Once more, she had to keep yelling his name until he gave her his attention. His eyes bugged out of his head when she pulled the scratchy straw from her bag.

He took one shaky step forward, then two. Then, the next thing Nami knew, he had rushed forward and, rather than rip the hat from her hand, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. She struggled for a moment out of reflex before relaxing. It took her a second to realize he was saying something. She listened intently as his voice softly echoed into her shoulder, “Thank you… Thank you...”

Was it really that important to him? Nami felt her arms raising up, her body instinctively wanting to hug him back. Instead, she pushed him back by his shoulders and shoved his hat into his arms. “Let's go,” she said, heading back into the trees.

“Wait, what?” she heard him say from behind her. She didn't stop walking. “Why's there holes in it?” His footsteps hurried to catch up with her.

“It got caught by that clown's knives,” she explained over her shoulder. She heard him whine and a rustling of straw.

“Should have hit him harder…” he mumbled.

“Probably.”

They walked in silence for a minute, under tree and over root. Their eyes had adjusted to the dark, though their pace was still slow. But of course, a ball of energy like Luffy couldn't bear the quiet for too long. “So, where did you learn how to do that map stuff?” he asked, not even bothering to sound nonchalant. He was earnestly interested.

Which is probably why Nami found herself indulging his curiosity. “I taught myself when I was a kid,” she explained, keeping it brief.

"Really?" she could hear the unmistakable grin in Luffy's voice. “What for?”

Well, there was no way she was telling him that. Keep it simple. “I was in a place I had to get out of,” she left it vague. “I had to make and adjust the route so often that I just… figured out how to make maps? I guess?”

“That's so cool,” he said, and she jumped when she felt his hand clap her on the back. She frowned but kept walking. Aside from their feet crunching twigs with each step, silence reigned once more.

Until she heard a small noise from Luffy. A quiet, “Oh!” Nami sighed, waiting for his next question. “Who was that blue hair girl at your place?”

“Wh- Nojiko?” Nami blinked. “She's my sister.”

“You have a sister?” He snickered. Why? “That's cool. Why haven't I seen her at school before?”

Nami actually bothered to stare at him in confusion, despite the darkness making it pointless. “Because she graduated a couple of years ago,” she said. “She's running a tattoo parlor now. It's not like, big, but it puts food on the table.”

“That's cool,” he said. It wasn't stimulating conversation, but she felt that he really did think it was cool. “I've got two brothers! Ace and Sabo!” She hadn't heard those names at school before, so she assumed they were older.

“What do they do?” she asked, not 100% interested, but not 100% disinterested.

“Oh man, it's so cool!” There's that word again. “Ace travels all over the place with his dad!” His dad? Nami bit her tongue. The last thing she wanted to do was bring up parents. “He beats everyone up, and he won this huge belt, and they call him Fire Fist! He's the best!”

“What, is he a wrestler or something?” Nami asked.

Luffy excitedly pointed at her, making enthusiastic monkey sounds. “Yeah! He's with the WB… W… Eeeee…?”

“The what?” Nami was being showered with terms and concepts that were completely alien to her.

“Uh… he said it was the Whitebeard Wrestling… something,” he snickered at his own poor listening skills.

“That, uh…” Nami cleared her throat, not really having an opinion on wrestling one way or another. “That's cool.”

“Yeah, it really is!” He laughed again. When it died down, he didn't continue. Nami watched him out of the corner of her eye. It was too dark to make out any details on him. But he wasn't bringing up his other brother. Was it a touchy subject?

She knew how to be tactful. She could change the subject if he didn't want to talk about it. So, she asked, “What about your other brother?”

She needn't have been so cautious. “Oh, Sabo went off to college.”

When he didn't continue, she kept pressing. “Like, local? Community? State? What are we talking here?”

“I don't remember what it's called,” he admitted. “It was something like Howard… or Havarti…”

Nami stopped dead in her tracks, gaping at him. When her mind finally caught up, she asked, “Do… do you mean Harvard?”

“Oh! Yeah! That's the one!” Luffy was all smiles again. “He's learning how to be a lawman! He said he's gonna get people out of jail cause they're not supposed to be there.”

“That's, uh…” Nami was frankly dumbfounded. “That's admirable of him.”

“No, he's not in the Navy. He's in college,” Luffy said, as if the answer should have been obvious.

She swung at him and missed in the dark. Even if she had connected, it would have been a victimless crime. Either way, they kept trudging along through the dark forest. Nami kept her mouth shut, having satisfied her curiosity about the boy she was “dating”’s family and praying he didn't try to delve further into hers.

The stillness in the air was soothing. The only sounds were their footsteps, the branches rustling in the breeze, and the distant hoot of an owl. The darkness allowed her mind to wander, but it went where it always did with her: Money. She would still have to count her take for the evening, but she would be lucky to have gotten even $1,000. It was less than her daily quota, but it was better than zero.

She would have to work double time to get the rest by Friday. School would waste too much of her time, so it was time to skip an entire week. It's not like her parental figure cared about her education in the first place. All he cared about was her birthday and keeping her pretty to make him money. A shiver ran up her spine as all sorts of horrific thoughts pulsed through her mind. Would Arlong get the first taste? Would Nezumi follow through on his threat? Would she be able to save herself in time? Nami didn't know the answer to any of those questions.

An image of herself, on her back, with her “father” looming over her, sent a spike of terror down her spine. She let out a shuddering breath, her blood running cold in her veins. Rather than what she didn't know, she tried to focus on what she did. She knew that she had limited time. And that her jaw hurt. She hadn't realized how hard she was clenching her teeth in an effort to keep her emotions pushed down. She also hadn't realized that she had stopped walking until she heard Luffy's voice echoing far in front of her.

He was calling her name. It must have taken him some time to realize she had fallen behind him. She wanted to call back to let him know she was okay. But her voice just wouldn't come out. It was weak and quiet. She just didn't have the energy to call for him. So, instead, she followed his voice.

It wasn't hard to make her way to him. He was loud, far too loud. Easy to follow. And something was off. Not that something was suspicious, but Nami had only ever heard him either be cheerful or pouting. Luffy sounded scared. She hurried her pace.

It didn't take her much longer to catch up to him. Pushing through a bush, she saw through the dark just enough to see him whip his head in her direction. In an instant, he was on her. His hands gripped her shoulders as he panted, his panic costing him his breath.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked. His hands patted down her arms and her sides, checking for… anything wrong, she presumed.

She pulled away. Like she always did. “I'm fine,” she said, brushing a few leaves off her shoulder. Whether they came from his hands or her walk, she didn't know. What she did know is that she was not telling him that she had been paralyzed by her anxiety. “I got turned around. I'm fine.”

Tension melted away from his shoulders. His head dropped, and his grip on her shoulders tightened. It wasn't painful, but there was an undeniable warmth to it. It felt safe? “Good,” he panted. “That's good.”

Nami took a few steps forward, her head craned upward, searching for the slightest glimmer of the stars through the trees. Luckily, she just barely managed to spot the North Star over a young pine. Another 90-degree turn, and they were on their way West once more.

But this time, Luffy was right on her heels. He matched her pace, step by step. Her legs were longer than his, so he occasionally had to speed up to keep by her side, making him bump into her every once in a while.

Eventually, tired of his overbearance, she glanced over her shoulder. “Afraid I'll run off on you again?” she prodded him.

“Nope!” he said with a grin. “Just don't want us to get lost, is all!” He seemed to think for a second, something that must have been a struggle considering he kept walking. He must have thought of something because he blurted out, “Oh, I know!” and darted forward, taking her hand in his.

He was leading the way now. Her pace slowed to watch their hands clasped together. It was warm. Even more radiant than during their last brief touch. He was humming a little tune to himself. One she remembered from the earlier performance. She could vaguely see the side of his face from behind and through the dark, but his silhouette certainly looked like it had a big grin on its face. And it must have been contagious because she felt a similar, albeit smaller one stretch across her own. It was dark, so she allowed herself an unseen indulgence.

What was with this boy? He cared about what she had to say, however little she did. He wanted to be around her, to share his joys. He was happy, and wild, and silly, and… and spending time with him made her forget just how miserable she was.

He was a ray of sunshine that pierced through the storm clouds of her life.

She wasn't going to sit there and say that she was falling in love with him. Not even out of denial. She had only known him for a few days, and if love at first sight was a thing, she would have been head over heels for him years ago. But now that she was getting to know him, really know him, she could see herself getting talked into being friends with him.

As for falling in love, well… He was cute. If she gave it some time, maybe she could come around to the idea. Eventually. Maybe.

For now, as she felt his infectious cheer spreading from her fingers to her palm and up her arm to warm her thawing heart, she let herself smile at him. Twisting her hand, she interlaced her fingers with his.

All she wanted was to feel something. And he made her feel nice.

************************************************

A few minutes of walking through the woods, hand in hand, and things got a little brighter. Light bled through the branches before them, the darkness finally melting away. Yielding to the unstoppable power of a few street lamps.

The pair pushed through some bushes and returned once more to civilization. Nami let out a deep sigh, squatting down to rub her legs. The impromptu hike had ended up being murder on her feet, and that had spread up the back of her legs.

While she rubbed her knees, she heard Luffy make a small noise. She ignored his approaching footsteps until she felt his fingers brush against her temple. Her hair swung wildly as she whipped her head over to him. “What are you doing?!” she asked, pulling away from him.

“You’ve got leaves in your hair,” he explained, pulling one free and showing it to her. “You'll get mad if you're not pretty, right?”

She frowned at that innocent smile. Because he was right. “No,” she lied. “But I won't be happy.” He snickered and started picking leaves out of her hair, like the monkey he was. She flinched at his sudden touch. “Hey, I didn't say-”

“I like helping people,” he said as he busied himself with her hair. “If you don't want to ask for it, you don't have to. I'll help you with whatever, either way."

Her knee-jerk reaction was to push him away and tell him to fuck off. Charity did not exist. Kindness was a means to an end. Everyone was out for themselves, and they would burn anyone beneath them to get their way. She had learned from her mother how to protect herself, but the lessons she tried to teach her about the world died the day she did.

But, true to her own philosophy, she had used Luffy that night. If it wasn't for him, she would have lost a valuable day for making money. This meant she owed him. And since she couldn't exactly ask him what he wanted, she figured she could at least try to be nice to him for the rest of the night. Unless he irritated her. Then, all bets were off.

Just as he was finishing up, a rumbling came from down the street. In an instant, Luffy sprang to attention. “Merry!” he exclaimed, leaping into the air and waving enthusiastically. Nami smoothed her hair down as best she could. There was sexy messy, and then there was plain messy. And she wasn't going to be caught dead as plain messy.

She wished she could afford a mirror, but since she couldn't, she would just have to hope for the best. A van came lumbering up to them, shaking in a way that screamed something was broken inside that the driver couldn't afford to fix. It was big and boxy. The outer panels were black, and painted with… Were those sheep? The green-haired drummer stuck his head out the window, his face set in a deep frown. Was his name Merry? It did not suit him, that was for sure.

“Get in,” Merry commanded, casting a wary glance at Nami. Fuck did she do? Before she could get in his face, Luffy pulled her along with him to the back door. He popped it open for her like he was a valet and this wasn't a Pontiac Shitbox. She hopped in the back only to see there were no seats, having been removed to leave more space for their instruments, and settled in with her back against the wall. Luffy slammed the door shut behind them and smacked the wall two times before sidling up next to her. She heard the driver grumbling from the front, something like, “Telling me when to go after the shit he pulled, goddammit...” He trailed off into a series of curses. Breaking into places had trained Nami's ears quite well.

She took stock of the assembled young men. Luffy sat next to her, leaning against her side. He was smiling, like he always did, humming that same tune from before and patting out a beat on his knees. She couldn't see much of Merry from behind the driver's seat, but she caught his eyes in the rearview mirror more than once. They were aggressive and judgmental.

Next to him was… Ugh, Sanji. She had almost forgotten he was here. The blond was looking between the two of them, his lips pursed around a cigarette as his eyebrows knitted together. In frustration? Suspicion? Jealousy? She'd rather not guess. Glancing over at Luffy, she wondered just how two completely diametrically opposed people could be friends. Luffy was kind, energetic, and a bit much, to be honest, but he was funny, too. Sanji was… Persistent was the nicest word she could think of.

That left her eyes to cross over to Usopp, who sat there, watching them with his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He must have been figuring out what to say because he eventually carefully asked, “Luffy, aren't you going to introduce us?”

“Why?” Luffy asked. “You know Nami. We go to school together!”

“Sure, but neither of us has ever talked to her before,” Usopp was patient with him, likely something he had learned from the years the two had spent together. “Why is she here? With you?”

“Oh! Right!” Luffy slapped his forehead, having forgotten the most important detail. He put his arm around Nami's shoulder and said with a big grin, “She's my girlfriend!”

In the mirror, the single eyebrow of Merry's that Nami could see arched in surprise. Sanji nearly swallowed his cig. Usopp had a twinkle in his eye but kept himself composed. He turned to Nami, asking just as carefully, “Is this true?”

“Uh, I'm not sure why you don't just take his word for it, but,” she wrapped her own arm around Luffy and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. He's my guy.” Oh god, she was blowing it, wasn't she? Was this how couples talked? How they… uh… sat together? She had no idea! Why didn't she do even the slightest amount of research before throwing herself into the deep end like this?! Were they buying it? Or did she give up the game at minute one?

Usopp looked between the two of them, sucking on his teeth for a second. His lips finally spread in a grin, his teeth dazzling against his darker skin. Keeping himself steady on the van wall, he shuffled up to the front seats. Holding out his hand, he smugly said to the pair up front, “Pay up!”

“Goddammit!” Sanji grumbled, fishing for his wallet. Nami was confused, to say the least. The blond counted out a wad of bills and slapped them into Usopp's outstretched hand, turning away to the window to smoke angrily.

Usopp turned to Merry, his voice laced with playful mischief, “Zoro~ooo, come ooo~oon…” Oh, was his name Zoro? Then who was Merry?

“Wait until I'm not driving, dumbass!” he snapped, sending Usopp skittering back to the back. Zoro groaned, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He looked through the mirror, his eyes blazing with fury, “I swear to god, Luffy, if you cost me any more money tonight, I'm kicking your ass.”

“What?” Luffy pouted. “How did I-”

The green-haired ball of anger didn't let him finish. “Because of the shit you pulled at the club, we didn't get paid!” Oh, was he the responsible one here? Considering how out of control Luffy was, his rage made a lot of sense. “Do you know how much beer money I've missed out on because of you?!” Never mind.

“Boys, boys,” Nami sat up, giving Luffy a calming pat on the back as she did. “You’re all pretty.”

“Who asked you?!” Zoro shouted. He suddenly swerved the van to the right. His lack of focus probably had him drifting into another lane.

“I think you’re really going to regret talking to me like that,” Nami said, reveling in this.

She could see a vein bulging out of his forehead. “And why’s that?” he asked, no longer shouting but no less angry.

The redhead smirked and simply overturned her purse. Zoro's furious gaze shifted to a state of wild confusion as the sound of leather smacking against the van floor filled the air. Sanji took far too long of a drag on his cigarette as he watched dozens of wallets fall from her bag. Nami’s grin turned vicious, “Because tonight, drinks are on me.”

Usopp, visibly sweating, turned to his band’s guitarist and said, “Luffy, your girlfriend is scary.”

Luffy nuzzled up against her shoulder, “Yeah, isn’t she the best?”

************************************************

Reclining against the wall with her legs draped over her "boyfriend’s" lap, Nami sang a wordless song as she counted out her ill-gotten gains. She would pull money from a wallet and promptly chuck the empty vessel out the window while the van rumbled down the street. When it came to picking pockets, Nami was cash only.

No cards. That involved working out PINs, and ATMs with cameras. No checks. That required a level of forgery that Nami couldn't get a bank to overlook. Watches and jewelry were fine, but her usual pawn shop knew she was desperate. While she could get some money off them, it wasn't worth the time.

She glanced down at her erstwhile footrest and, frankly, was bewildered with herself. Back in the woods, she and Luffy had, maybe not a moment of intimacy, but one of comfortable, physical affection. Having to ramp it up for his friends to give off the appearance of a loving couple was… surprisingly easy. Soothing even.

Something about it just felt right.

Eh, if it helped their cover, she would take it. Luffy sat quietly, which was a surprise in and of itself. His hands were laid flat, palms up and resting on her knees. In them was a steadily growing stack of money. A pile of green that Nami was continually adding to with delight.

“How much longer do I have to drive around?” Zoro grumbled from the front seat. “I’m wasting gas.”

“Until I’m finished counting,” Nami tossed another wallet out the window. “We don’t want Hansel and Gretel following these breadcrumbs.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want them to meet the witch,” Zoro muttered under his breath.

Usopp scooched forward, getting closer but staying an arm’s length away. “So uh, why are you dealing with them one at a time?” He had gotten a hair too close and had to duck under to avoid the next wallet’s flight path. “Why not dump them all at once? Save time?”

“A big pile of wallets is an investigation,” Nami explained, the green bills shuffling in her hand before she added them to the stack in Luffy’s hands. “A wallet on its own is returned, minus cash.”

Usopp blinked at her a few times before scurrying away. “Scary…”

As she grabbed the last wallet, Nami’s eyes drifted to the passenger seat for the briefest of moments. Sanji sat in silence, his gaze fixed on her as he took slow, deliberate puffs from his cigarette. He was going to be a problem. She had known it from the moment she saw him on stage. But that was for Future Nami to deal with. For now…

The redhead placed the last of the bills onto the stack and took the whole pile from Luffy. She gave it a double count and leaned back, resting her head on the van's wall. One thousand, six hundred, forty-nine dollars. So much more than she had ever hoped she would have gotten this night. She closed her eyes. Subtracting from her remainder, she had four more days to find five thousand, eight hundred, fifty-one.

But she had promised to pay for beer.

Setting aside the forty-nine, Nami unzipped her leather jacket, pulled down the neck of her shirt, and stuffed the sixteen hundred into her bra. As she put her clothes back in place, she glanced around at the hormonal boys she was in close proximity to. Usopp was looking anywhere but at her, a light blush dusting his cheeks. Sanji had cocked an eyebrow, not caring to hide his interest. If Zoro had even noticed, he wasn't reacting. Or at least she couldn't see it from behind.

And her sweet, innocent Luffy, who, by nature of being her footrest for the moment, had gotten the best view, had his head at an angle, confusion plain on his face. Nami reached up and brushed her fingers through his hair, giving the back of his head a gentle scratch. “A girl's got to keep her money safe,” she hummed. She subtly arched her eyebrows, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “There's pickpockets out there.”

************************************************

On account of looking the oldest, it was Zoro's job to buy the beer. He and Sanji squabbled over it, the latter no doubt trying to impress Nami by being a provider. But when she pointed out that he was too pretty to pass for 21, he was more than happy to let the matter drop.

With their nightly libations acquired, the band drove up to the top of a steep hill. An ancient Lover's Leap, once bustling with passionate couples and lively teenagers, has sadly witnessed a significant drop in both romantic escapades and horny teens. A place no one ever bothered looking at twice. A perfect place for underage drinking.

It was a brisk spring evening, the sun having long since set. The temperature had dropped just enough to make drinking warm beers tolerable. Nami was leaning against the van, beer in hand, six-but-now-five pack at her feet, watching her “boyfriend” excitedly recount the tale of their adventure through the woods. Considering they walked forward, turned left, and walked forward again until they got out, it was impressive that he was able to stretch it out for so long.

A good deal of his story was spent showering praise upon her for her skills in navigating the two of them to safety. As much as she didn't care what others thought of her, hearing so many compliments sent in her direction had Nami's ears burning. She took a long but shallow sip of her beer. Really, just using the can to hide her face.

Right as she finished her can, Usopp came walking by. After losing a game of Rock Paper Scissors, he earned himself the title of Stick Boy. Meaning he had to collect fallen branches so they could get a fire started. She gave a light kick to his leg, making him yelp and drop his bundle of wood. “Seriously, dude,” Nami remarked. “Wired a little too tight there, are we?”

Clutching his chest, Usopp steadied his breathing, “Yes, I'm fine. How are you?” He knelt down to pick up his fallen sticks.

Nami joined him. “Got a question for you,” she said.

“Yeah?” Usopp's eyes flicked up to her from the ground.

“Uh…” She cleared her throat, not used to being on the back step. “Who's Merry?”

“Merr-” he began, then let out a puff of laughter.

“What?” Nami frowned.

Usopp chuckled, “You were just leaning on her.”

The redhead turned around, staring face to face with one of the painted sheep. She turned back to Usopp, her face twisted in confusion. “You named your van?”

“Well, my girlfriend did,” Usopp’s chest swelled with pride.

“That’s the rich girl, yeah?” Nami thought for a moment, staring at the crude drawings. “Did she paint this too?”

Usopp scratched the back of his head. “It was part of the deal for her buying it for us,” he admitted. "I helped touch up the rougher parts."

“But why sheep?” Nami asked.

He shrugged. “She likes sheep? I guess?”

Nami raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know if your girlfriend likes sheep or not?”

Usopp scoffed, “I know everything about Kaya.” He and Nami finished collecting the scattered sticks and rose back to their feet. He made to walk away, but stopped. Tapping his foot a few times, chewing his lip, he turned back to her. “Okay, my turn. I've got a question for you.”

“I retain the right to pass if necessary,” Nami cut in. The wrong question would bring too many more.

Usopp glanced over to where his bandmates were, the boy in red gesturing wildly as his story continued, “Why Luffy?” Nami raised her eyebrows, not expecting this so quickly. “Not that I'm trying to get in the way or anything…” He bounced his stick bundle in his hands as he searched for the right words. “I guess it's actually less, ‘Why him?’ and more, ‘How did it happen?’”

He was cringing now, clearly feeling all kinds of weird about this. “I just… I've never seen the two of you together at school before. Not even a passing conversation. No offense, but you usually keep to yourself.”

“When I can help it,” the redhead's eyes betrayed her with a quick glance to Sanji.

“So, I guess…” Usopp's fingers swept over his dark curls. “How did you two meet?”

For all of her preparations, Nami realized that she hadn't actually put together a meet-cute for them. She had planted all sorts of evidence, but had forgotten to create a core to form it around. But she was quick on her feet and reused an old lie on the fly.

"We were assigned to work on a history project together for Miss Robin's class," she lied. It was the easiest cover. Usopp and Sanji weren't in History Class with them that period, and she wasn't sure this Zoro guy went to school in the first place. “We had to spend a lot of time together,” she continued. “We talked a lot, got to know each other, and…” She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. Great acting! Totally not legitimate! “He makes me laugh.”

Usopp's eyes widened, “Oh. Oh."

“What?” Nami crossed her arms, feeling defensive. A display of vulnerability was met with disbelief, of course, she was defensive.

“I uh…” Usopp swallowed the lump in his throat. “I didn't realize it was that serious.”

“What are you talking about?” Nami glared at him.

“‘He makes me laugh,’” he repeated her, putting on a frankly insulting attempt at an impersonation. “That sort of line is reserved for the chubby guy or the scuzzy-looking line cook.” He shot a thumb over his shoulder at his friend. “Saying that about a good-looking guy like Luffy? Jesus, save me a seat at the wedding.”

“Oh my god, dude! Shut up!” Nami retorted sharply at him. He snickered at her before scampering away. God, she was not drunk enough for this. It was way too soon to be thinking about marrying Luffy.

…OR AT ALL!

************************************************

The fire crackled gently, creating a soothing melody as its glow embraced the increasingly intoxicated teenagers. A series of stumps had been erected around the pit, an impromptu set of chairs for the rock band and hanger-on. Nami sat, beer in hand, Luffy’s knees knocking into hers as he was regaled by some flight of fancy Usopp was stringing along.

A heavy thump came from her left as the overly muscled drummer sat at her side. “Hey, uh…” he jumped straight into things, though he didn’t have all the words quite yet. He grumbled some more before raising his beer can, “Thanks.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Nami patted him on the shoulder. For a brief moment, she could feel him letting out a relieved sigh. But Nami was nothing if not pragmatic. “As long as you pay me back by Friday, I won’t charge you interest.”

“What! You—" Zoro stammered, his can crumpling under his grasp. “You charge interest after a few days?!” Nami’s smile never faltered, and the drummer was the first to break away. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered under his breath. She didn’t respond, instead taking a dainty sip of cheap beer.

“I was going to apologize for being an asshole,” Zoro said through gritted teeth. “But now I'm not seeing the point.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to apologize for, dear,” she was so pleased with herself. “We can’t help who we are.” He scoffed, turning away from her. “What, you don’t believe me?” She kept poking him in the back, annoying him into attention. When he whipped his head back around, he saw her smile had faded to something much more pensive. “Let’s just say you’re right to call me a bitch.”

Zoro nodded a few times, letting her words mull in his head. He lifted his can toward her, “To being pieces of shit.”

Nami bit back a laugh and clinked her can to his, “I’ll drink to that.” Tilting her head back, she downed the rest of her beer.

"Whoa, take it easy," Zoro chuckled to himself. “We don’t want a little lady getting sick.”

Back to being annoyed with him, Nami rolled her eyes, unimpressed with his condescension. Reaching down, she pulled the last can off the now one-pack and slid her security measure out of her boot on the way back up. Her grip firm on the knife, she stabbed it into the bottom of the can. Quickly popping the top, Nami shotgunned that shit in one long pull.

Letting out the breath she was holding, Nami, smug as she could be, crushed the can on Zoro’s thick ass skull. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he put his hands up defensively, “Alright, fuck me then.” He took another swig of his beer. “Good to see not everyone here is a lightweight. I’ve been looking for a drinking buddy.”

“Sorry, but I’m already taken,” Nami chuckled. “Give me some time before I step out on my boyfriend.”

“Ah, fuck you, you know what I mean,” but he was also laughing.

“I think we’ve got one last pack by the van,” Nami hopped up from her stump. “I’ll freshen us up.” She walked off, setting the crushed remains of her beer can in the middle of his green hair. "You should go for an earthier green next time. Mint isn't your color."

“Go to hell, it's natural!”

Over by the van, Nami had to take a second to actually find the last six-pack. She was a little tipsy, but this was only after, what? Four beers? She had a fairly high alcohol tolerance, even at 17. It turned out that when you’re 12 years old, have no money, lots of time, no friends, and sticky fingers, getting into drinking was pretty easy.

Nami found the beer and blinked when she heard the sound of a lighter sparking behind her. Damn, already? She had been hoping to avoid this for tonight, at least. Straightening up, she leaned back against the van, tapping the six-pack on her hip. When he didn’t speak, neither did she. She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

He took a long drag, the ember burning brighter and illuminating his face. Sanji tapped his heel in the dirt a few times, nodding his head. Nami wasn’t going to speak until he did. So she waited. After a minute, he finally said, “It’s nice to see you.”

“Is it now?” Nami scoffed. “Because if my memory is right, the last thing I said to you was, ‘Fuck off.’”

He put up a placating hand, “Alright, alright.” He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up into the air as he looked up at the stars, “Okay, do you want me to be petty? Because I can cut to the chase.” His head dropped back down, his eyes locked on hers. “Why him? I'm not asking why not me- No, I absolutely am, but why not anyone else? You're probably the most wanted single girl at East Blue, but you turn everyone down? Why not him?”

Crossing her arms, Nami took a breath. She didn't want to blow up on him. “Because he's not pushy,” she explained. “I went to him, not the other way around. I want to take things slow, and I don't expect he would try to pressure me into things I don't want to do. Unlike…” she left the sentence in the air with a pointed stare.

“Oh, come on,” he protested. “I would never-”

“Sanji, I've heard the stories about you,” Nami sighed. “I know your reputation. The good and the bad. You might have been fun for a fling, but I'm a long-term kind of girl. I want commitment, and I don't expect you could give that to me.” Her face softened, “Not without some growing up, first.”

Sanji rubbed the back of his head, a grimace on his face, “Okay, okay…” Turning his head to the side, he spat out a quiet, “Dammit.” He turned back to her, forcing a smile on his face. “Okay! Sorry about that!” Nami pursed her lips. “I'm a little drunk and really jealous, so I wanted to get that out before I let it stew into something worse. We good?”

He put out his fist. Nami looked from it to him, then let out a reluctant chuckle. “I'm not trying to Yoko my boyfriend's band on our first outing.” She bumped his fist. Her grin widened, “I'll wait until you guys hit the big time before I twist the knife.” That got Sanji laughing, and she couldn't help herself but laugh with him.

"Okay, I've gotta ask," he grinned. "Who asked who out?"

Oh good, she did have one for this! “I had to ask him because he's too dumb to take a hint.” That got them both laughing again.

“And I told him: it wasn't a chicken, it was a baby!” Two minutes earlier, Luffy was slapping his knee, doubled over laughing as Usopp concluded his far-fetched tale. “Oh man, if you thought that was good, wait until you hear… Oh, no…”

“Hm?” Luffy perked up, watching his friend with concern. “What's up?”

“Oh, that fucking asshole…” he heard Zoro muttering to himself.

“Guys, what's going on?” Luffy stood up, the firelight flickering across his worried face.

“Well, uh… You see…” Usopp stammered. He tugged at his shirt collar, “Man, how big is this fire? Sure is hot here…”

Zoro sighed and pointed to the van. Luffy followed the direction and saw Nami and Sanji, out of the firelight, laughing together. He watched them for a moment before asking, “Seriously, what's the problem?”

“Do you really not see anything wrong here?” Zoro leaned forward, the fire casting shadows over his face as his forehead dipped lower.

“They're laughing. So what?” Luffy asked. “You were laughing with her earlier. Was that a problem?”

“No, because I'm not trying to get into her pants,” Zoro shot an ugly look in their singer's direction. “You know how he is.”

Luffy looked between the pair off to the side and Zoro a few times, his eyes squinted, searching for more details. “Her pants wouldn't fit either of you…”

“Luffy…” Usopp nervously put a hand on his shoulder. His teeth clenched, he made an uncomfortable sound, trying to find the right words. Eventually, he asked, “Do you care about Nami?”

“Yes,” Luffy said without a second thought.

“Okay…” Usopp nodded thoughtfully and kept rolling. “Now, imagine if she stopped being your girlfriend and started dating Sanji instead. How would that make you feel?” Usopp knew his friend well enough to put it all in simple terms.

Luffy pursed his lips. That wouldn't happen. Nami didn't want to date anyone. That was the whole point of their armoire mint. But there was something else. Something that felt wrong. Images flashed through his mind. Images of Nami spending time with Sanji, of her rolling around in her bedroom with him and taking photos. Of the two of them running down the street, hand in hand. Sanji holding her in his arms as he sprinted from the club.

It made his stomach hurt.

Zoro saw the look on his face. Answer received. He planted his palm on Luffy's back and gave him a hard shove forward. “Then go do something about it.”

“No, but seriously, I don't usually like that kind of music,” Nami admitted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “But you guys were pretty good.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Sanji grinned, his cigarette growing shorter with each passing minute. “And hey… If you wanted to come by my place and watch the writing process…” He left the invitation in the air.

“Oh, so sorry,” Nami feigned an apology. “But I already told you: my dance card is full.”

“Eh, had to give it one last try,” the blond chuckled.

“Sure you did,” Nami rolled her eyes, but the nature was good. She hooked a thumb towards the fire, “We should probably get back-”

A pair of arms wrapped around her midsection and lifted her into the air. “Hey!” she shouted, trying in vain to wriggle out of their grasp. In her struggles, she was able to make out a pair of black eyes, the fire glowing within them. “Luffy!” she shouted. “Put me down!”

But those black eyes weren't watching her. They were locked onto his singer. Nami felt the grip around her waist tighten. Pressed against her back, she could feel the rumble in his chest.

“Mine.”

Her breath caught, and a shiver went down her spine. She didn't have time to think before her body was turned towards the fire, bouncing with each step. Not that she could think in the first place.

Luffy thumped down on a stump, never letting Nami out of his grasp. He held her in his lap, burying his face into her left shoulder. There were… so many things wrong at the moment. Luffy holding her tightly in his embrace. Her sitting on his lap. His face directly on her brand, separated only by one thick and one thin layer of clothing.

But the worst was his behavior. “Hey!” she wriggled, bending her head around to force him to keep her eyes. “What the hell was that?” she hissed, keeping this public conversation as private as she could. He didn't say anything. He only buried his face deeper in, moving up to the nape of her neck as he whined.

Lowering her voice even further, she whispered, “Are you for real jealous or just playing it up?”

She received only a soft, “Iunno” that brushed against her skin.

Goddammit. If he was catching feelings, she was out. He was supposed to be a smokescreen. A diversion. A useful idiot. Nothing more. Everything less.

Okay, simple enough plan. Put up with him for the rest of the night. Kick his Happy Meal ass to the curb if he tries to kiss her or worse. Avoid him for the rest of the week. Save herself before her birthday. Live in peace for the rest of her days.

Of course, when you lay out a plan so neatly, it always goes awry. Which step will go wrong, and how many will fall apart? That's for later.

For now, Nami, not graced with Apollo's gift of foresight, pulled a beer off the pack and hucked the rest to Zoro. He caught it with ease and toasted the last five cans to her. With nowhere else to sit but her “boyfriend's” lap, the redhead cracked hers open and took a dainty sip. If he popped a boner, she'd kick his ass.

As she did, a dreadful sniffing erupted in her ear. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked Luffy, who was craning his neck over her shoulder, towards the beer. Thinking for a second, Nami realized she hadn't seen him have a drop all night. Pulling it from her lips, she raised it in his direction, “You want some?”

Luffy nodded wildly, his hands creeping up from her waist to clasp around the aluminum. He pulled it to his lips, sucking hard on the opening with each large gulp. His cheeks pulsed with the effort, forcing Nami to suppress a snort. “Jesus, you drink like a baby,” she laughed. It was really cute-

Oh, goddammit.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized what she was thinking. She had just gotten done silently chastising him for getting more attached, and there she was doing the exact same thing. It didn't help that she was practically draped over him.

His arms were looped up her front but still clinging to her body, his forearms squishing her breasts down. And her ass was right on his lap. She had told herself that she would leap off him at the first sign of “stimulation”, but the fact that it hadn't happened yet was offending her. Before the thought even finished crossing her mind, she stopped herself from trying to get a rise out of him. The last thing she wanted was to give this doofus a lap dance. And certainly not in front of all his friends.

And speaking of his friends… “What, I'm not allowed to talk to her? Who the fuck are you, Mosshead, her dad?”

“Maybe if you stop trying to fuck everything with a set of tits, we'll trust you around women, you fuckin’ creep!”

“Guys, chill! I'm sure it was fine! Hey, Luffy, did-” Usopp's voice trailed off, and his face went pale at the sight of their band leader. “Hey! Who gave you that?!” He tripped over himself, scrambling around the fire in a mad dash around the fire, Zoro and Sanji hot on his heels.

“What's going…” Nami jerked her head back when she saw Luffy practically inhaling the beer. Dents caved in as he devoured the contents of the can. Three sets of hands slapped at him, shouts of “No!” “Spit it out!” "Bad dog!" echoed around her. Luffy only tightened his grip on the can, which meant his grip on Nami did the same.

Unable to flee, she could do nothing but cover her head and protect herself from the violence that clung to her. She could feel Luffy wriggling around behind her, dodging his friends’ blows as he sucked down the last of his beverage for the evening. She heard his lips slip off the can with a satisfying pop. And then a belch nearly burst her eardrum.

His friends all let out a collective groan. “Come on! I just cleaned up this morning!” Sanji bemoaned his misfortunes. “And last time, he emptied out my fridge!”

“And you think I can sleep when he's crashing around my place all night?” Zoro shot back. “And all the whining he does when he's hung over, god, he's so loud!”

“Wait, seriously? Is he drunk off one beer?” Nami tried standing up, but Luffy's body had both slacked and tightened around her. He hung loose, but his legs were now wrapped around her waist from behind. “It wasn't even full!” She tried in vain to shake him off, but that only made him whine and cling tighter.

The drummer and the singer were too busy being at odds to notice her. However, the astute keyboardist sensed a glimmer of hope on the horizon. “Guys… Guys!” he slapped the two on the shoulders until they paid him attention. Slowly raising his hand, he pointed to the constricted redhead. A devious grin stretched his lips, his teeth baring viciously. “He's not our problem anymore.”

“No! No, no, no!” Nami tried in vain once more to stand. “Don't you leave me like thi-III!” Her protest was cut short when Luffy lost his balance and went toppling to his side. This, of course, meant he pulled Nami with him, and she let out a small yelp as she fell and a heavy “Oomph” when she landed in the dirt.

“You signed up for this, sucker!” Usopp called over his shoulder, as he and the other two band members hooted and hollered, high-tailing it to the van. It roared to life, quickly peeling out, sending dirt and gravel flying in its wake. Nami howled after them, her voice cracking with rage.

Feebly throwing elbows back, she tried and failed to dislodge herself from her “boyfriend's” grasp. “Luffy!” she snarled. “Let go of me, you idiot!”

He did, but only with his legs. His arms were still around her, and the rest of him pressed against her back. He was effectively spooning her. But he seemed to be listening to her. That was a start. Just as Nami opened her mouth to speak, Luffy took a huge sniff of her hair.

Frozen in shock, Nami laid there, her mind buffering as it took in this new situation. Luffy, happy as a clam, nuzzled himself against the back of her neck, “I like your hair… it’s so pretty… smells so good…”

Another jolt went down her spine, and her face burned. She had stopped fighting, too caught up in the sensation. The warmth of Luffy’s body pressed against hers. She felt herself leaning into him, her hands slowly reaching up to his arms, holding him as he held her. The two of them, lying there together in the dirt, was that a worm?

Okay, enough of that. His grip had loosened enough for her to roll away from him. Sitting up, a trembling hand found its way to the back of her neck. That was… a lot. Nami sat there under the moonlight, holding herself, breath shuddering, body trembling. Too much, too fast.

Once she had collected herself, she stood up, dusted the dirt off herself, and stuck her hand out to her “boyfriend.” “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why?” Luffy asked through bleary eyes but fished around in his pocket all the same.

Nami snatched it from his hand, “Because I'm not wasting my data figuring out how to get you home.” She opened up his GPS app and swiped around, searching for a preloaded home location. Only to find none. She sighed, “What's your address?”

“My wha?” Luffy was face down in the dirt.

Nami pushed him onto his side with her foot. “Your address,” she enunciated the syllables. “Where do you live?”

“Iunno,” he mumbled. “Nowhere.”

She groaned, palming her face in exasperation. “I swear to god, if we're more than a ten-minute walk from my house, I'm leaving your ass here.” She plugged her address into his phone and frowned. “Lucky you. Nine minutes. Get up.”

Nami at least offered him the courtesy of a hand. With his bones made of rubber, getting to his feet was a herculean task. He couldn't stand on his own, so Nami had to haul his arm over her shoulder and practically drag her “boyfriend” home.

“This night can not get any worse.”

************************************************

It did.

Now he was crying.

“He broke my hat!” Luffy blubbered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “It's ruined! Stupid clown! "I'm going to—" A dry heave interrupted him.

“Jesus, Luffy, can you please keep it down?” Nami hushed him. “It's the middle of the night! You're going to wake my whole neighborhood!” She didn't care what most of her neighbors thought of her. She had robbed most of them when she was a child. But the last thing she wanted was him waking up Genzo and bringing him outside.

"But my hat!" he wailed, tears streaming down his face.

“It's just a stupid hat!” she hissed. It's not worth-”

Luffy shoved himself off her, “No! No, no, no, no, no!” He wasn't steady on his feet, but he kept his distance, waving his hat at her like it was a weapon. “It's not a stupid hat! It's my stupid hat!”

Something about it caught Nami's eye. Faster than a whip, she snatched it from his clumsy grasp. “Hey! Give it back!” he shouted. "That's my treasure!"

Some treasure. A hastily stitched assembly of straw. Three holes were punched through the top of it, long, but narrow. That Buggy guy must have sharpened the hell out of those knives to cut this cleanly. Which made it extra concerning that he threw them into the audience. Asshole.

Luffy smacked at her hands, trying to rip his hat away from her but unable to use his fingers properly. Instinctively dodging him, Nami grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him from stumbling into the street. “Calm down,” she shoved the hat onto his unruly hair. “I can fix it.”

All Luffy's fight died out in an instant, “You can?”

“Yeah, the cuts are pretty clean,” Nami explained. "All I need is a needle and thread, and I can-”

“Let's go!” Luffy snatched up her hand and took her sprinting down the street.

“Slow down! Go back!” Nami yelled. “We just passed my house, idiot!”

************************************************

She had to kick his shin every few minutes to keep him from bouncing. He couldn’t help it. It was the anticipation, the anxiousness. He was wound up, full of energy, excitement abounding, but told to keep quiet.

The two of them were sitting on her couch. The lights were off, to not wake her sister. Illuminated by only the light of the moon, he watched her work. She had removed her jacket, now clad in only her jeans and a t-shirt, the sleeves ending just above her elbows.

Most boys his age would have their eyes locked on her body. Tight shirt showing off her slender frame and bountiful chest. Jeans that hugged her hips just right, her thighs peeking through the tears. The moonlight shining on her skin, giving her an ethereal glow. The way she brushed her hair behind her ear as she focused. The way her eyes would glance up at him every now and then, watching him watching her.

But he wasn’t looking at any of that. His eyes were locked on her hands, her deft fingers at work with needle and thread. She glided across the holes like a leaf on the wind, her thread trailing behind like a comet’s tail. Pulling taught, Luffy’s eyes widened as the holes shrank, closing off one by one. When she reached the last one, she tied off a knot and held the hat to her mouth, biting the thread clean. She spat it off to the side and held his hat out for him.

He reached out with trembling hands, taking it into his arms like he was holding an infant. Carefully, he turned it over, his eyes widening when he saw the mends she had made. His breath shuddered, his chin quivered. Oh god, was he going to cry agai-

In an instant, his arms were wrapped around her once more. But where before he was playful and clingy, this time he was desperate. Relieved. She thought she would have had to urge him to be quiet, to not wake her sister. "Thank you," he didn't sound as weak as when she had given it to him back in the woods. This was pure and simple gratitude.

That hat really did mean everything to him. What she once thought was an eccentricity, then a horribly tacky gimmick, then a childish holdover, was truly his treasure. And Nami learned something about herself. For most of her life, she had taken things away from others. For the first time, she had given something back. And it felt good.

As she sat there, in his arms, she felt his warmth sink into her. She found her hands slowly making their way up his back, her head resting on his shoulder. He squeezed her tighter, and she returned the favor. Their hearts beat as one, their breaths rose and fell together. Her heart was so warm. Thick layers of ice fell off in droves. A terrible hand still held it within its grasp, but there was a second one now, doing everything it could to pry those horrible fingers away.

Nami may have known it deep down, but her conscious mind was unaware that this was the first hug she had received in over three years. Her sister and Genzo were affectionate enough, but she always pushed them off her. She was angry and miserable, and didn’t want to feel coddled or weak. This resulted in a dry spell of physical contact, and she hadn’t even realized she had become touch-starved. And Luffy, ever the generous glutton, would ensure she would never go hungry again.

“Um, I… Uh…” She swallowed hard. “I have some stuff I need to do this week.” She felt his arms loosen. “But when I’m done… When I’m free… Maybe we can-”

“SNOOORK”

Nami forcefully pushed Luffy back by his chest. He flopped backwards, his hat bouncing and landing on his chest. He lay limp, mumbling a quiet whine. His snores threatened to rattle the windows, so she slammed his hat over his face, muffling him as best as she cared to.

As she watched the boy she allowed herself to be vulnerable with snoozing away on her couch, some of the ice came back and slapped the second hand out of the way. “Why do I even bother?” she muttered to herself before storming off. She headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water before bed.

Two steps on the cracked linoleum and the light turned on. She jumped back, reaching for a knife, only to let it be when she saw her sister’s disapproving glare. A few empty beer bottles lined the table. She took a sip from a not quite empty one and said, “And just where have you been all night, young lady?”

“How long have you been here?” Nami asked. “I’ve been home for an hour. Have you been sitting in the dark this whole time?”

“A few hours, yeah,” Nojiko had to blink a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light. “Look, Mom’s not around anymore, so someone has to be here to get on your case when you’re out late on a school night. And I’m not waking Genzo up at 2 AM.”

“God, is it that late already?” Nami checked the clock on the oven. It read 6:34 AM. And blinked. “We never fixed that after the last power outage, did we?”

“Looks like no,” Nojiko leaned back in her chair, poking her head into the living room. “I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend,” she teased.

“He’s not,” Nami frowned and sat down at the table with her sister.

“Uh huh…” Nojiko rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious when you’re out with him all night and come home to make out on the couch for an hour.”

“We weren’t making out, I fixed his hat,” the redhead was drumming her fingers on the table, trying to get through this grilling so she could go to bed already.

“Did you at least wear a condom?” Nojiko planted her chin on her palm as she grinned at her sister. “I would hope you wouldn’t ignore all of my advice.”

“Jesus, no! I mean- God, I’m not lying!” Nami was tired and angry, a bad combination for coherence. “He’s not my boyfriend, I’m just telling people he is.”

Nojiko squinted her eyes, “Okay, now you’ve lost me.”

“Guys at school ask me out all the time,” Nami explained the central premise of this story. “I got tired of it, so I told Luffy, that’s his name by the way, I told Luffy that I’m telling anyone who asks that I’m dating him.”

“But you’re not…” Nojiko folded her arms, trying to wrap her mind around this. She polished off her beer and set the empty on the table. “What does he get out of this?”

“He gets his friends to stop making fun of him for never having a girlfriend,” Nami explained. “Everybody wins.”

Nojiko nodded. “Fair trade.” She tapped her fingernail on the empty bottle, “Okay, can’t get on you for teen pregnancy… Well, I definitely smell beer on you.” She cleared her throat, pulling her hand down in front of her face to reset her character. “Young lady, have you been underage drinking tonight?!”

Nami glared at the empty beer bottles surrounding her sister, “Bitch, you’re 20.”

“Guiltyyyyyy,” her older sister grinned. Her face softened, “Look, I’m just happy you got to be a normal girl tonight.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” Nami said quietly. “I’ve still got work to do.”

Nojiko sat up, “You’re not done yet? But you only have until-”

“I know,” Nami’s voice was harsher than she wanted it to be. She took a breath, “I’ve got a little under six thousand left to go.”

“I don’t have that much, but I can-”

“No,” Nami insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You can’t. He’ll know. He always knows.”

“I hate this,” Nojiko held her head in her hands. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”

Nami moved to the other side of the table and got her second hug in three years, “You could call the school and tell them I’ll be out for the week. I can’t afford to waste the time.”

“I understand,” Nojiko whispered softly, holding on tight. “I love you, Nami. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“And Genzo loves you too,” Nojiko patted her on the back and stood up. She peered into the living room again as she passed it to get to the hallway. “And that boy in there loves you too.”

“Goodnight, Nojiko,” Nami brushed past her, unamused. She had one last thing to do before the night was over. Slipping out the back door, she grabbed the shovel from its place leaning on the wall. Arriving at her mother's tangerine trees, she took a breath. Allowing the exquisite aroma of citrus to envelop her entire being.

The shovel cut through the soft earth. She had dug up and buried this so many times that it was becoming routine. A routine she hopefully wouldn't need any longer by the end of the week.

When the chest shone in the moonlight, Nami cracked it open. Fishing the wad of bills from her bra, she tossed it onto the pile. She was almost done. So close she could taste it. But for now, she needed sleep.

In her bedroom, she closed her door behind her. She flopped onto her bed, the long night finally catching up to her. Her eyes were heavy, and sleep came fast. The lone thought she had before drifting away was of her circumstances. She had five more days to collect fifty-eight hundred. She could do it. She had to.

When she dreamed, she dreamed of him.

Chapter Text

He sat at the table, rocking his head from side to side as a song rattled between his ears. Oftentimes, he would belt his little heart out, but Zoro was sleeping. And the last time he woke Zoro up, he chased him across three city blocks. Which makes the cops very interested in your activities when they happen at 3 AM.

The only light in the room was the glow of his phone, his eager face lit up by the small rectangle. Only a short while before his week would be over, and his day considerably improved.

Nami hadn't been to school for almost the whole week. He was worried, calling constantly and sending her texts. But she never replied. He asked Usopp what to do, and his friend had suggested that he find out from her own friends.

A quick scramble through the halls, asking about her left and right, gave Luffy only one piece of information: Nami didn't have any other friends but him. That made him sad. She was fun, and pretty, and smart, and cool, and pretty, and mean in a fun way, and really pretty! Anyone who didn’t like her was stupid, and that was that.

It was weird. Luffy didn’t usually think this often. Most times, he coasted through the breeze, letting his actions do the talking and thinking for him. But lately, his head was filled with thoughts of her. Nami was the last thing he thought about before he went to bed, and the first thing on his mind when he woke up. It was her smile, her laugh, her gorgeous hair, the way her beautiful brown eyes lit up when she was excited. She was slowly becoming everything to him, and he couldn’t imagine his life ever being the same again without her.

Weird, right?

Just as his thoughts began to drift to her once more, his phone buzzed on the table. Snatching it up, the boy grinned and tapped on the “Accept Call” button. At once, two faces appeared beneath the cracks on the screen. One had dark hair down below his ears and freckles dotting his cheeks. The other had a short crop of curly blond hair and a nasty scar over his left eye.

“Hey guys!” Luffy greeted his brothers with a cheerful smile and a wave. They tried to call each other every week, just to check in and see how each other were doing. They weren’t always able to get things to line up. Sometimes Sabo had an exam he needed to study for. Sometimes Ace found himself in towns where the cell reception was abysmal. Luffy was almost always available, so him having to cancel on them earlier in the week came as quite a surprise.

“Alright, Luffy, spill,” Ace was trying to play the stern older brother, but he couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eye. “Just what was so important the other day that you had to kick your beloved family to the curb?”

“I’m not going to act like I’m upset with you,” Sabo scratched at his scar, an old nervous tick. He had gotten it in a boating accident when they were younger. When the rich kid at the lake, the one the boys’ grandfather took them to in the summers, loaded his boat’s engine with nitrous, and it exploded in his face. He was lucky to only be mildly disfigured. The rich kid wasn’t so lucky once Ace and Luffy got their hands on him. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious what you were up to.”

“Oh, it was great!” Luffy flashed a wide smile at them. “My band played at this big shoutcake show, and we were the best there!”

Ace’s lips parted for a moment, his eyes flicking over to one side of his screen. Sabo drummed his fingers on his desk for a second, pursing his lips as he thought. “I’m gonna go with ‘showcase,’” he ultimately chose.

Ace nodded, and Luffy continued. “I beat up this clown guy who...” Luffy bristled with lingering, youthful fury. “He put holes in my hat!”

Ace and Sabo both hollered, hit with equally intense but much more serious anger. “What clown?! Where is he?!” one shouted. “I’ll fucking kill him!” yelled the other.

“I don’t know where he is,” Luffy admitted. “The guys said they saw him getting arrested, so it’s whatever now. Besides!” He popped the hat off his head, flipping it around to proudly show the top of it to the camera. “Nami fixed it!”

“Oh?” Sabo raised an eyebrow. “Who’s this Nami? You made a new friend?”

“Yeah, she’s the best!” Luffy praised her enthusiastically. “She’s so cool, and smart, and pretty…” He went on and on, spilling all the feelings he had for this girl to two of the people he trusted most in this world. They allowed him to proceed with unwavering patience. His happiness was contagious, even over such a long distance.

Ace and Sabo glanced at each other as well as they could over their phones. “Have you ever seen him have a crush on anyone?” Sabo asked.

“It's a first for me, too.” Ace rubbed his chin with a grin.

Luffy, too caught up in recounting all the things he liked about Nami, didn't hear them. “And we hung out at her place and took a bunch of pictures, and she went with me to see my show the other day, and we ran around in the woods.” He giggled. “It's really fun being with her!”

“Sounds like you've got yourself a good friend there,” Sabo sat back in his chair, smiling at his little brother.

“Oh right!” Luffy shook his head, chastising himself for forgetting the most important part. “I'm supposed to call her my girlfriend now! Not just friend.”

“No shit?” Ace leaned in, his smile stretching from ear to ear. He extended his hand, beckoning with his fingers. “Alright, pay up. Lemme see her.”

“What? Why?” Luffy frowned, pulling back defensively.

“We want to see the girl who stole our brother's heart,” Sabo agreed with Ace.

Luffy frowned but tapped at his phone to pull up his gallery. His brothers watched him swipe at his screen with his pointer finger, as clumsy with his technology as always. He flicked through photo after photo, Nami had sent him all the ones they took together that day, plus the ones they took after. Most of them had her showing off how pretty she was or flaunting her figure. She looked great in all of them, he really didn't understand why she would put in so much work when he knew she could get the same results effortlessly.

But there was one picture that he liked above all the rest. Seeing it was enough to get him smiling. It was probably one of the simplest they took that day. The two of them, arms around each other, both smiling at the camera. Her hair framed her face perfectly. The light caught her eyes and made them sparkle. The pure happiness radiating off her that spread over to him in the moment and off to the future. Looking at it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Still weird.

He sent that one to his brothers. He watched as Sabo's eyebrows raised. “Wow, Luffy. She's-”

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Ace slapped the shit out of his table over and over. “LUFFY, YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S HOT AS FUCK!!!”

His image blurred as he bolted from his seat, the sound of a chair clattering to the floor was quickly drowned out by his pounding feet. Ace raced down the hall, reaching a common room in the hotel he was staying at in no time at all. He didn't raise his phone to the room, but from the off angle, it was clear there were multiple people there. Luffy could just barely make out Marco's pineapple-ass head.

“GUYS!!!” Ace called out to the assembled wrestlers. “MY LITTLE BROTHER GOT HIS FIRST GIRLFRIEND AND SHE'S A FUCKIN’ BABE!!!” He was met with a rousing wave of cheers. Ace frequently celebrated his brothers' accomplishments with his wrestling family. They were a tight-knit group, brought together by Old Man Whitebeard.

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate had broken his body and his spirit trying to make it big in the wrestling world. Eventually, he came to two conclusions. The first was that fame didn't matter, and all he wanted was a family. The second was that no matter how hard he tried, he could never get out of the wrestling game. So he started his own independent promotion, pulling together the outcasts and has-beens and never-was’s from all the larger companies.

These men and women came together to try and make something new. They liked to fight, they liked to put on a show, and they all quickly came to love that old man like the father most of them never had. So when Ace arrived on the scene, they were more than happy to welcome a distant pair of little brothers to the mix. Whitebeard made for a good uncle, and his crew made for a good, if a whole lot, of cousins.

The sound of their cheers for him often filled Luffy with an overwhelming sense of pride. The half-hearted encouragement when Ace told them he formed a band. The heartfelt admiration when they achieved success at their debut gig. The maddened hoots and hollers when Ace showed them a video of that time he did a handstand. But this time, he only felt guilt.

Ace had returned to his room and sat back down in his chair, “So, uh, this girl got an older sister? Cause god damn.”

“Jesus, man,” Sabo scoffed. “Don't you get enough action already?”

“A man can only get so much road beef before he wants to settle down,” said Ace, as if that was poignant.

Luffy's cloudy thoughts were momentarily dispelled by the image of beef.

“I'm not going to sit here and be judged,” Ace huffed. He turned the tables on his brother, narrowing his eyes, “How is Miss Koala doing?”

A tousled mane of fiery orange hair peeking out from under a newsboy cap gradually appeared in the frame. “I'm good,” she politely waved at the camera. “Thanks for asking.” As she pulled away, Sabo shook his head, resolve etched on his face. Threading his fingers through her hair, he pulled her back down. He planted a fiery kiss on her lips while flipping off the camera.

As a young girl, Koala had been taken from her family. She was too young to know all the details at the time, but she had learned the truth when she grew older. Her parents were going through a nasty divorce. So nasty, that her father, upon learning he would be losing all custody rights to her, asked for one last day with his little girl.

He never came back.

Of two minds, he decided that if he couldn’t have her, no one could. But he also couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. So he took the coward’s way out and found a buyer for his daughter. She was sold for $240.

Her mother never looked for her.

She was nothing but a tool to be used against one parent or the other. Once she was off the table, she was only worth a couple hundred bucks to one of them. Koala spent a few years being passed from one set of hands to another. In time, she would come to be rescued by one Fisher Tiger, a man who dedicated his life to freeing people from the shackles of slavery the world over. He himself passed away shortly after saving Koala and handing her over to Luffy’s father Dragon, who ran an organization with the intent of writing governmental wrongs across the globe. Many things slipped through the cracks, and it was up to these revolutionaries to pick up the slack that lazy fatcats in their high towers chose to ignore.

It was there that Koala met Sabo, the boy having been taken under Dragon’s wing. Over the first few months together, Sabo helped Koala put herself back together. She had suffered greatly, and had finally found something solid to hold onto.

Is it any wonder they fell in love?

Whole and hardy, Koala had decided to live the rest of her life helping human trafficking victims like herself. Her first step was law school, and she got into Harvard through sheer effort. A year later, Sabo had to bust his ass to follow her there so she wouldn’t leave him behind.

Ace fell back in his chair, the fight snuffed out of him before he could even start, “How the fuck am I the only single one here?”

“Because you had a good thing going with Yamato and you threw it away!” Koala had sat back down, leaving Sabo to address his brother with genuine anger. “He’s a good guy, and you broke his heart! I still owe you an ass-beating for that, don’t you forget it.”

“His dad almost killed me!” Ace threw up his hands. “What was I supposed to do?!”

Sabo leaned in, emphasizing each word with intensity, “Take. Him. With. You.”

Ace’s eyes lost focus, his body rapidly losing the ability to keep him upright. “Oh god, I need to call him…” He snatched up his phone, swiping through his contacts. “I need to… it’s not there. Oh fuck, I got a new phone. I don’t have his number. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!”

His phone buzzed in his hand, a text from Sabo with a string of numbers on it. “I love you, man,” Ace had tears in his eyes.

“Not so fast!” Sabo stopped his brother from hanging up. “It is 1 in the morning. Call him tomorrow.”

“Maybe in Boston!” Ace snapped. “It's only midnight in Chicago! And Yam's on the West Coast! It's only 10 there! What, did Mr. Ivy League forget about timezones?”

“Mr. Ivy League forgot about timezones,” Sabo admitted. Koala laughed at him from off camera.

Ace ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, “Okay, so I'm gonna-”

“Nami's not really my girlfriend,” Luffy finally broke his uncharacteristic silence. His brothers blinked at him, stunned into speechlessness.

After a bit, Ace piped up, “Kinda fucked up you called her that, then.”

“No, but she told me to…” Luffy whined.

Sabo glanced from his brothers to his girlfriend a few times before asking, “Luffy, why don’t you start at the beginning?”

And so he did. He told them all about their chance meeting in the classroom where they formed their arraignment. About taking pictures to build up a backstory. About the day he took her to the gig to meet his friends. About how happy and sad he was with her all the time.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m always really… comfy with her. She knows that spot on my head I like getting scratched, but she’ll only do it when other people are around. Once we’re alone, it all just stops.” His head dropped. “I don’t know… We held hands a few times, and that’s nice. But…” He sighed a weary sigh. “I don’t know…”

“Luffy, I’ll say one thing,” Sabo said, gently. “Whether or not this girl has any feelings for you, if she’s just your friend and using you as a smokescreen, or if she’s just as confused as you are, I know one thing.” He paused, making sure he had his brother’s full attention. “She trusts you. She knows that you won’t embarrass her by bragging about your relationship or pushing things farther than she wants. She probably feels safe with you.”

“Which can be a problem if you want more than she does,” Ace cut in.

“Hey, now,” Koala's voice chimed in.

Sabo winced, “He does have a point. A small one, but… You know.”

“People always want different things,” Ace continued. “What you gotta do is figure out what she wants, and be that for her. If she wants you to be her friend, be her friend. If she wants you to be her boyfriend for real…” He trailed off, thinking too hard.

“Just talk to her,” said Koala.

“Yes!” Both Ace and Sabo agreed.

“But I can’t,” Luffy said with a frown.

Sabo had to bite back a laugh. He’d been there before. Too afraid to tell Koala how he felt at first. “Luffy, I know it can be hard, but-”

“No, I can’t talk to her!” Luffy cut in. “She won’t answer her phone!”

“Oi,” Ace sat up. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing!” Luffy pouted. “We had a good time, she fixed my hat, I went home, and now she won’t pick up the phone.”

“Is she avoiding you at school?” Sabo asked. “You are still going to school, right?” He glared at his dropout wrestler brother for a moment.

“She hasn’t been there all week,” Luffy said.

“Um…” Koala's voice quivered with unease.

“You should really go check on her…” Sabo tenderly placed his hand atop Koala’s.

Ace observed his brother, who remained completely still, his frustration mounting with each passing second. “Now, Luffy!” His little brother sprang out of his chair.

“No!” Sabo snapped. “Luffy, how long does it take you to walk there? I know your bike is still at the bottom of the bay and I know you don’t have enough money to replace it.”

“Um… About an hour,” Luffy felt more embarrassed about remembering that time he wanted to show off how far he could throw his bike.

“It’s almost 10:30 over there, so it’ll be close to midnight by the time you get there.” Sabo ran a hand through his hair. “Just head over after school tomorrow. If it’s been this long, whatever’s going on can wait until then.”

“Nah, go first thing in the morning,” Ace hissed as if Sabo couldn’t still hear him just the same. “Skip school, be romantic, chicks dig that stuff.”

“Do not skip school, Luffy,” Sabo chided his brother.

“Skip school, Luffy, you’ll be super cool,” Ace kept egging him on.

“Ace…” Sabo glared at his brother again.

"Alright, compromise," Ace exclaimed, raising his hands in feigned surrender. “Duck out at lunch. Half the day.”

“Ace, come on-” Sabo thought for a second. “Luffy, what classes do you have after lunch?”

“Gym and a free period,” he answered.

“Okay, yeah, totally duck out at lunch,” Sabo nodded. “It’s not like you have to worry about your gym grades.”

“Haha, yeah…” Luffy grinned.

“Okay!” Sabo clapped his hands. "We're all set with our plans! Luffy, you’re going to check on this girl. Ace, you’re going to at the very least, apologize to Yamato or I will cave your skull in with a rusty pipe next time I see you.”

“Yeah…” The fun was gone from Ace’s eyes, replaced by a mix of worry and hope. “Wait, what about you?”

“Well, as the only one of us in an actual relationship,” Sabo grinned and stood up. “I’m going to take full advantage. Goodnight, guys!” There was a slight delay from him pressing the disconnect button to his feed actually ending, providing his brothers with a half-second visual of Sabo pushing Koala back onto their bed and crawling on top of her, much to her apparent delight.

Ace sat at his table, drumming his fingers. “You okay?” Luffy asked him.

“Yeah,” Ace nodded, his expression more serious than usual. “Just trying to figure out the right thing to say to him, you know?”

“Just say you’re sorry and you miss him?” Luffy offered like it was obvious. Because it was.

Ace chuckled. “I’ll give it a try. Thanks, man.”

“Say hi to Yam-Yam for me!” Luffy laughed.

“Will do,” Ace said, rolling his shoulders as he braced himself for a difficult conversation. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” Luffy always stayed on the line until everyone else hung up and the program kicked him out. Even when his screen went black, his smile didn’t falter. He had a plan, and he was going to see it through. He pulled himself up onto Zoro’s couch and pulled his hat over his eyes, too amped to sleep, but ready for when it came. Whatever Nami was going through, he would be there for her. Because that’s what friends do.

“Boyfriends” too.

Chapter Text

While Luffy was yucking it up with his brothers and learning about his feelings, Nami was an anxious mess, sitting on her bed, her nails ripping holes through her blanket she was gripping it so hard. She thought she had this in the bag. That her unexpected windfall from Luffy's band's gig would give her the push she needed to finish the job. But it turned out to be her final stroke of good luck.

Nami had spent the entire week desperately seeking money and all her different ways to get it. But every single time, she came up short. She had played her hand at far too young of an age, so robbing her neighbors wasn't an option. All of them had secure doors and windows, as well as cameras and security systems. Before this week, she had been offended that they would assume the worst of her. Now, she resented every single one of them.

Her usual tactic of finding a mark at a bar hadn't panned out either. Every drunk asshole she spotted inexplicably had someone with him. She needed them to be rich, vulnerable, and alone. And she could only confirm the first, if that even. Too risky and not enough time to learn all the variables.

The reason she hadn't been answering Luffy's calls is because she had wiped her phone and pawned it. As well as any valuables she had lying around. Sentimentality would get her nowhere. She hated herself for it, but she also swiped some of her mother's jewelry. Belle-mère didn't have much, but it was enough to justify a trip to the pawn shop. The only thing she held onto was a gold bracelet, one that she remembered her mother wearing on special occasions. Typically, as an accent piece for whatever outfit she had donned to get Genzo to do something for her. Or whatever they got up to when Nami was too young to understand what grown ups did.

All told, Nami's memories sold for a measly $250.

She bit the bullet and tried selling pictures and videos of herself online. It wasn't the first time she had tried it, but she was very obviously underage at 16, and any account she made was met with a swift ban. Not wanting to go so far as to manually sell feet pics to creeps herself, she had given up on that particular endeavor years ago.

But when she was mere days from turning 18, she figured she was close enough to try and get some cash out of some desperate perverts. Unfortunately for her, she had no credibility. She was a hot girl in an ocean of hot girls. Getting herself noticed would take more time than she had.

That said, it wasn't like she got nothing for her trouble. But since these profits came from indirect transactions, even the little she got was eaten into by instant transfer fees. She only got about $150 from selling digital skin.

She barely found anything during random pocket searches these days. It was almost like a rash of pickpocketing had occurred only recently, causing people to be much more secure with their wallets. She managed to find a few careless individuals, but nowhere near enough for her needs. Add another piddly $475 to the pile.

All of her efforts over the last four days had amounted to $875. She had 25 hours to get her hands on $4976. It simply couldn't be done. Anxiety roiled in her stomach. It was over. There was nothing more she could do. There wasn't enough time. The moonlight streaming in through her window glimmered off her knife, sitting on her desk.

…she'd be lying if she said she had never thought about it.

It was the easiest solution to her problem. To keep Arlong from getting his hands on her. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave Nojiko behind. She couldn't make her and Genzo suffer through a loss like that again. No matter how many nights she had spent lying awake, unable to sleep, wishing for it all to end.

She was at the end of her rope. An amount of money that had once seemed a pittance with how much she was hauling in now dangled like a blade over her head. Gone were the days of simple heists. The only way she could make that money now would be…

Nami had never robbed a store before. Too dangerous, too public. But desperate times; desperate measures. There was a 24/7 liquor store a few blocks south. It was as good a place to start as any.

************************************************

Nami arrived at the shop about a half hour later. She had taken the time to make sure her appearance was as unrecognizable as possible. Black, baggy clothes to hide her figure. Her bright, easily identifiable hair was tucked neatly under a ski mask. Boots a size too big to throw cops off her trail. She took a few steadying breaths as she pulled her knife from her waistband. It felt so heavy in her hand. If she had held onto that gun, this would be a lot easier. But hindsight was 20/20.

The liquor store stood dimly lit, its neon signs flickering softly in the cool night air. Shadows stretched across the pavement as the streetlights cast an eerie glow on the storefront. Inside, the shelves were lined with an array of colorful bottles, their labels reflecting the sporadic light. The faint hum of a refrigerator could be heard, accompanied by the quiet rustle of bags behind the counter, where a weary employee kept watch, occasionally glancing up from his phone. Outside, the sound of distant traffic drifted by, blending with the night’s stillness.

Time was a luxury that Nami could no longer afford to waste. With a heightened sense of urgency, she made sure the coast was clear before taking a bold step towards freedom or failure. In one swift motion, she threw open the front door and stepped inside, pointing her knife at the man behind the counter.

“Open the register!” she shouted, her gaze set, her choice made.

“Jesus, what are you, 16?” the clerk said with his hands raised.

Nami was not there to play games. “I said open the fucking register!” The clerk stooped down below the counter.

Her heart was pounding, the sound almost deafening. Adrenaline was racing through her system, putting her brain into overdrive. The world seemed to slow around her as her thoughts blared at a mile a minute.

This was insane. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. It was terrifying. What if someone walked in? What if a cop pulled up? The thought of being caught sent shivers down her spine. She shouldn’t be doing this. She should be in bed, wrapped up in her blanket, dreaming about being anywhere but here. Why was she doing this? Why did her life have to turn out like this?

Because of him. The memory of Arlong’s heavy hand and cruel words flooded back. She steeled herself. She had to do this. Needed to do this. There was no other way. She had worked so hard for so long to get him his goddamned money, and she just needed that one last push to break herself free from the chains of her past.

If this paid off, she was set. Even if it didn't, it seemed fairly easy enough. She would just need to find another store open this late and hit them too. It was loud and scary and dangerous, but she could do this. She could save herself. Deep down, a flicker of guilt tugged at her conscience, but it was overshadowed by her dream of liberation. No one was coming to help her. There was no one she would ever ask for help. She had gotten this far on her own, and she would get there herself.

Why did he need to duck below the counter to open the register?

The man rose back up in slow motion. Nami could see something wooden pressed into his shoulder. At once, every neuron in her brain, every muscle in her body, every fiber of her being screamed at her in unison:

RUN

Nami caught the briefest glimpse of the shotgun's barrel as she dashed out of the store. There was a crack like thunder behind her and something exploded in her left hand. She stumbled, but she kept running. Another terrifying boom sounded, but nothing happened that time. She was already halfway down the block, sprinting for home.

************************************************

She crashed through her door a few minutes later. A clatter came from Nojiko's room. “The fuck?” her muffled voice pierced through the wall. Nami panted, tripping over furniture in the dark, holding her hand tight. Blood still managed to seep past her fingers, dripping onto the floor.

She threw the bathroom door open and slammed it shut behind her. Still cognizant enough to lock the door, she turned on the light to look at what remained of her hand.

Blood oozed from the open wound. The adrenaline had worn off, and every movement, every small twitch, sent fire shooting up her arm. There was too much blood to see how much damage there was, so she turned on the faucet to wash it away.

“You're a day early, mother fucker!” Nojiko was shouting outside the door. Nami could hear her stomping around, no doubt searching for a home invader.

The injured girl gasped when something in her hand caught the light above. It was still in her. It was inside her. She had to get it out. It had to leave. Had to go. Make it stop.

Throwing open the medicine cabinet, Nami tossed aside anything that wouldn't help her. Aspirin, cough medicine, bandages, nothing would get it-

Tweezers

“Nami?” Nojiko was right on the other side of the door now. “Nami, is that you?”

She didn't answer. She was too busy steeling herself to shove a piece of metal into her hand. She didn't make herself wait. Plunging the tweezers into the hole, she let out a pained gasp.

“Nami!” Nojiko tugged at the locked doorknob. “Nami, open the door!”

Grunting with effort and pain, she forced the tweezers further inside. The metal ball was in there deep. She could almost feel it poking the skin of her palm. Her hand twitched, she wasn't sure which one, making her yell. Nami slammed her arm onto the edge of the sink, forcing it to be still.

Her sister pounded on the door; she sounded panicked. Scared. “Nami! Please! Open the door!”

Over all the noise, Nami heard a small sound. Metal on metal. She was right on top of it. She squeezed the tweezers.

Her eyes went white with pain.

Nojiko was slamming herself against the door. Screaming for her.

Nami must have let out a scream. She couldn't remember. All she knew was she must have hit the metal ball with only one side of the tweezers. And maybe pinched a nerve. She grunted, moving it around once more, making sure it was lined up properly this time. She closed her eyes this time, bracing herself.

The new flash of pain was considerably lesser than the first. Compared to that, this was nothing. She sucked in a breath and pulled, firm but not too hard. A spike of pain, but no movement. It wouldn't budge.

Nami turned her hand over, deliriously trying to get a better look. Fresh blood poured into the sink, and for a brief second, she saw a glimmer of white among all the red.

Ah. It was stuck in a bone.

She pulled. Hard. Wrenching it free with a shuddering, gasping shout of pain. The tweezers came shooting from her hand, but still within her grip. The pain was still there, but it was dull. Throbbing. Not piercing. In a daze, Nami admired the metal ball. There was a crash, a splintering of wood.

Nojiko shoved herself past the ruined door, stopping in her tracks at the sight of her sister hunched over the bloody sink. A small tink sounded out when the shotgun pellet dropped into the sink. “Nami…” Nojiko cautiously stepped closer, her gaze filled with concern. “What happened?”

“I… “I co…” she said softly, struggling to get the words out. Barely conscious.

“Nami, talk to me,” Nojiko knelt by her sister, gently laying her hands on her shoulders. “What happened?”

“I couldn't do it…” she mumbled.

“You couldn't-” Nojiko's face paled as the realization set in. Her grip on Nami's shoulders tightened. Fear gripped her heart just as hard. “Nami, what do you mean? Please, please don't tell me you-”

Nami's voice was so small, barely audible, “I don't have enough.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Tears burned in Nojiko's eyes. Nami's mind was far, far away. Nojiko got herself back in focus. “I won't let him take you.” Nami's head was drifting downwards. Nojiko pulled her up to meet her eyes. “Do you hear me? He will never get his hands on you again! I won't let him!”

Nami muttered a few inaudible words. Her sister looked into her eyes and saw the past staring back. Her eyes were dead. Lifeless. The exact same look they had the day Arlong let her go back to her family. The face of a girl who had suffered. A girl who had lost all hope.

A girl who had given up.

Tears streamed down Nojiko’s face as she pulled her sister tight against her. “Why didn't you let me help you?” she sobbed.

“He’d know,” came Nami’s weak voice. “He’d hurt you.” She sat there, limp in her sister’s arms. Unmoving. Unfeeling. A hollow emptiness in the shape of a girl.

They sat there. Nojiko wept, burying her face in her sister’s shoulder. Holding her tight. Whispering comfort and reassurances. Promising to save her.

Nami could tell those were just empty words. Kind lies to make her feel better. There was no saving her. Not anymore. It was over. Nothing short of a miracle could change what laid in store for her. And it wasn’t like five thousand dollars was going to fall out of the sky in front of her.

Nojiko cleaned her wound and bandaged her up. Took her to bed. Tucked her in, just like their mom used to, all those years ago. “Get some sleep,” she urged her. “We still have all day tomorrow. We can figure something out. I promise.” She kissed her forehead. She left.

Nami was alone.

Neither of them got any sleep that night.

************************************************

The golden rays of the midday sun poured through the windows. Documents were strewn across the table. A woman fretted over them, trying to find an answer. Her blue hair nearly pulled out at the root, she let her head drop to the cold wood.

She had trusted her sister to save herself, and that trust failed her. She ran her own tattoo parlor, a modest but consistent form of income. It was enough to keep her and Nami fed, like Genzo would ever allow them to starve. But it kept her sane, being able to provide for her and her sister.

So to fail her like this, she didn’t know what to do. She was still paying off the business loan for the property, and she had always tried to live within her means. Keeping track of her finances had become second nature, and she had balanced her books to perfection, only taking for herself what she and Nami needed each month. Groceries, utility bills, and Arlong's rent. Everything else went back into the business, keeping it afloat.

Which meant she had nothing extra to pull out. No magical pile of money, no rainy day fund, no emergency savings. No savings at all. She owned a business, but she and her sister still lived below the poverty line. Any problems that arose were met with the same solution: Suck it up and wait until we can get more money together next month.

Shoes fell apart? Tape them back together. Umbrella collapsed? Run faster in the rain. Running a fever? The tattoo parlor closing for a single day would cause them to miss a rent payment the next month. Wear a mask and only take consultations.

Small problems. Minor things that add up into a tidal wave of debt. They perpetually feed into themselves, with no end in sight. If they could afford a good pair of shoes, they wouldn’t have to buy another pair for another ten years. But the cheap ones they can afford fall apart in less than one. In ten years, they had spent more on shoes than they would have on a single nice pair.

Poverty devours you. Until nothing is left.

A knock at the door pulled Nojiko from her spiral. She scrambled from her chair, scooping up the baseball bat leaning against the wall. Slowly approaching the door, her frazzled mind did its best to take account of the situation. She checked the clock. It was 12:35. Less than 12 hours until

Don’t think about it.

He wouldn’t come early. Nojiko knew Arlong enough to know that, while he was an evil, evil man, he rarely went back on his word. He wouldn't send someone out half a day in advance. They had already paid their rent this month. But who else would be here at noon on a Friday?

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, but she hesitated. It could be anyone behind the door. A nobody. A monster. A small part of her wished it was a hero. A savior for her sister. Someone who could ease her pain, to help her carry her sorrows. To vanquish the foul villain plaguing their home. Wouldn’t that be nice?

She opened the door. She had to shield her eyes. The sun was too bright. Rubbing her weary eyes, she blinked them into focus.

It was that boy. The one with the hat. “Hi!” he grinned. “Is Nami home?” Nojiko stared blankly at him. “Cool bat!”

She looked down at her hand, having forgotten she was holding it. “Um, yeah, she’s home,” Nojiko said, leaning the bat against the wall.

Luffy cocked his head, looking at her more intently, “Are you okay?”

Nojiko started, quickly trying to feign some level of normalcy, “Yes! Everything’s fine! …But you should probably go home…” She trailed off, thinking for a moment. “Hang on, let me go get her.”

“Okay!” The boy stuck his hands in his pockets, his eyes wandering around at whatever happened to be nearby.

Nojiko went to her sister’s room, finding her right where she had left her several hours prior. On her bed, wrapped up in her blanket, borderline catatonic. And her eyes, still open, still empty. She knelt down, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. “Nami? Your friend is here. That boy, the one who stayed the night the other day?”

For the first time since she had finished bandaging her hand, Nami reacted. She looked up from… From wherever she was looking. From the depths of whatever abyss her mind had plunged itself into. She looked into her sister’s eyes and asked in a small, broken voice, “...Luffy?”

“I think that was his name, yeah,” Nojiko tried to smile for her. Tried to show her that everything would be okay. They both knew it wouldn’t. But they could pretend. For one more day. “Why don’t you go spend some time with him? Would you like that?”

“...okay.”

Nojiko wasn’t sure if that had actually gotten some energy into her or if she was simply doing as she was told. Either way, it would be good for her to get out of the house

And somewhere far away

She rose, taking Nami’s uninjured hand and helping her to her feet. “I'll leave you to it,” she said, her smile strained. Returning to the front door, she watched as Luffy kicked some dirt off his shoes, sending scattering over the walkway to the road.

“Thank you for stopping by,” she said to him. “I’m sure it’ll mean a lot to her. …it does to me.”

“Of course!” Luffy grinned, his face glowing even under the shade of his hat. “What are friends for?”

“Take as much time as you need,” her smile felt more genuine. “Just make sure to have her home by midnight.” Her stomach rolled at the thought, but she kept it down. “I uh… Just try to show her a good time. Because it’s

Her last day

“It’s been a rough one, that's all.”

Luffy blinked at her a few times. He looked at her like he could see right through her. “Did something happen?” he asked.

“No!” Nojiko said, too quickly. She made herself soften. “No, nothing happened.” She averted her gaze, mumbling under her breath, “Not yet anyway. I just… She needs to know she's not alone.”

Before Luffy could press any further, she heard a door shut behind her. Nami came shuffling from her room. She had ditched her bloodstained robber outfit for a pair of black pants with two gold circles on the hip that went down to her knee and a spotted green shirt, the sleeves frayed below her elbows. A white bandage was tightly wrapped around her left hand.

And her eyes were still dead.

“Nami! Hi!” Luffy beamed at her. Whether he could see that something was clearly wrong or not, Nojiko couldn't tell. Her eyes followed his quick glance down to Nami's bandaged hand. But he said nothing. She appreciated that he didn't try to make a big deal out of it. She wanted Nami to just be a regular girl. Before the end. Just one last day.

"...hey," Nami responded softly.

Grinning widely, he took her by the hand and pulled her out the door. That clinched it for Nojiko. He was excited, and she had seen him be excited before. Wild and untamed. But even through that abundance of energy, he was so careful with her sister.

He didn't yank her off her feet. He didn't make her run down the street. He let her walk at her own pace. Through the window, Nojiko watched them walk away, him leading, her following. It looked so natural. Like a real couple out for a walk together.

He seemed like a good kid. Nojiko's head fell as she mourned what could have been.

Raising it back up, her eyes locked with a still set, sitting on the mantle. A photograph, one of the few they were able to take back then. Her hair was shaved on the sides, the rest pulled into a mohawk with a ponytail. Her eyes were gleaming with mirth. Nojiko remembered the night they took that photo.

It was her, Nami, their mom, and Genzo. The whole family, playing a game of Monopoly. Nami kept making up rules that had all the money funneling into her pockets. Nojiko kept complaining about her cheating. Genzo grumbled something about personal responsibility, but that was mostly because he was dead last.

And Belle-mère was laughing her ass off at her daughter's brazen behavior. It only fueled Nami to keep making new rules, each less sensible than the last. Landing on one of her spaces meant you paid Nami rent and handed over one of your properties. Go to jail, pay Nami half your money to get out early. Pass Go, pay Nami $200.

It was a good night. One of the last they had together.

Trembling hands reached to grasp the picture frame. Tears fell, staining the glass. “I'm sorry, Mom…” Nojiko sobbed. Her legs gave out, sending her falling to her knees. “I'm so sorry…”

She hugged the picture to her chest. “I couldn't protect her.” She fell forward, wrapping herself in a ball with her mother at the center. Weeping. “I'm sorry, Mom… I'm sorry…”

************************************************

The Baratie, usually a bustling hub of shouting matches from the kitchen and fine dining, was quite subdued when they arrived. Granted, it was 1pm on a Friday. Not exactly peak hours. The most noise was from Luffy, drumming his hands on the table in anticipation. “Man, this place is the best!” he grinned.

“...why are we here?” Nami asked, her head low, her hair covering her face.

Luffy's drumming slowed as he exclaimed, "I'm hungry! And you can eat too!”

She felt something in her jaw twitch. “...what does-”

“This is the best food around!” His grin widened. “Everything here is so good! I can't get enough of it!"

“...i'm not hungry.”

Luffy made a face and said, "Sanji's dad's not gonna like that. ...maybe. I've seen how he gets around hungry people, not sure about not hungry…” He stroked his chin, trying to get his brain to turn over.

“...what does sanji have to do with this?”

“This is his dad's restaurant!” He sat back. “Sanji works here after school when we don't have band stuff to do. It's how I get in! His dad loves me!”

The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder as they neared their table. Well, heavy footstep. It was accompanied by a sharp clack of wood on wood. Nami barely noticed when it came to a halt. She looked up, her eyes vaguely acknowledging the shape of a man at their table.

He wore a clean, white shirt, buttoned to the neck, which had a blue kerchief around it. A spotless apron was tied around his waist. His head was donned with an impossibly tall hat, clearly denoting the owner of this establishment. “Zeff!” Luffy laughed joyfully, eagerly anticipating another free meal from his favorite “uncle”.

“Get out,” Zeff’s voice was rough and firm.

“What?!” Luffy stared incredulously at the man. “But I eat here all the time!”

"When my son brings you," Zeff grumbled. “And not during school hours. Get-”

It was at that moment when he first took notice of Nami. He sized her up, looking between her and Luffy. “Kid, did you skip school to bring a girl here?”

“Yyyyyes?” Luffy shrank away from him.

Zeff hit him on the back. Hard. “The usual, then?”

With a radiant smile, Luffy sprang back to life. “Yup!”

“Boy knows what he likes,” Zeff wrote something on a notepad. “And for the lady?”

“...i'm not hungry.”

“Trust me, I've only ever had one type of unsatisfied customer,” Zeff gently pushed a menu towards her. “And I'm not planning on tossing you out by the scruff of your neck anytime soon.”

“...i…i don't…”

Zeff pushed the menu across the table towards Luffy. “You pick for her.” The boy’s eyes lit up as he threw open the enameled paper. “And don’t pick a plate of meat. She’s a lady. Get her something she’d like.”

Luffy pouted but intently scoured the menu. After a minute, he slammed his finger onto it. “This one!”

The chef bent down slightly, peering intently. “Good choice.” He gathered the menus and turned to leave. “This’ll be quick. Not many people are around at this time."

He stopped when Nami raised her voice. “...I can't afford it.” Raised it as well as she could.

“Oh, don't worry about that!” Luffy grinned. “Uncle Zeff never makes me pay!”

“That’s right,” Zeff placed a meaty hand on Luffy's shoulder. “Chore Boy here will be chained to the dishwasher all weekend.”

Normally, Luffy would throw a fit over being made to work. He never came in to do it on his own and would have to be dragged in by Sanji. But this time was different. This time, he sucked in a long breath before letting out a strained, “Anything for her.” Nami blinked, then glared at him.

Zeff clapped him on the back again. He told the pair their meals would be along shortly before limping to the back. “Oh man, I can't wait,” Luffy rubbed his hands together, a small trickle of drool already escaping his mouth.

“...what the hell was that?” Nami frowned.

“What was what?” Luffy cocked his head.

“‘Anything for me?’” she spat. “I'm not your girlfriend. Don't say shit like that.”

“It's not about that!” Luffy protested, crossing his arms with a pout. “You're my friend! I'd do anything for my friends!”

“We are hardly friends,” she shot back. “I've known you for, what? A week now?”

“What does that matter?” Luffy frowned. “Friends are friends, no matter how long.” He paused, huffing out a sigh as his expression softened. “I don't know why you're sad, and you don't have to tell me. I just want to make you feel better. I don't like it when you're sad.”

Nami opened her mouth, but Luffy kept going, “I get sad sometimes. Like when my brothers first left town. I was really lonely.” His smile faltered, but didn't fully fade away. “But I had my friends. We had good times. I had good food. And everything was okay!”

Nami bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face neutral. She hadn't expected any vulnerability coming from him. It was really sweet of him to try so hard. Just for her. But it wasn't something she was ready to talk about. Or that she wanted to talk about at all. So instead, she changed the subject.

“Was that guy seriously using a peg leg?” she asked. “What's up with that?”

“Oh, that?” Luffy instantly snapped back to his usual self. “He says he wears it here for theatrics. Good for business or something. He's got a pro… pos… phosphorus one he uses at home.”

“Prosthetic,” Nami sighed.

“Well, I think it's cool,” Luffy huffed, crossing his arms and looking away from her. Before Nami could again correct him on the word, “Pathetic”, Zeff returned, two steaming platters in hand.

“For the kid, a pile of meat,” the chef indifferently dropped a plate with a rack of ribs with a bloody steak slapped atop it in front of Luffy. Who dove in before it hit the table. “And for the lady, Canard Rôti à la Mandarine.” He carefully laid her plate before her.

Small, fileted pieces of duck sat in a line. Herbs and seasonings meticulously clung to each piece, sitting and drizzled with an aromatic orange sauce. Nami didn't say anything, but it smelled incredible. “I… uh… I'm still not…”

Zeff cut her off, “I'll make you a deal. One bite. All I ask is one bite. And it's on the house.”

Nami stared at him for a second. “But I'm not paying for it anyway.”

“Then you've got nothing to lose,” the old man grinned. “One bite, and Chore Boy here gets his weekend back.” Luffy actually stopped eating at that. Though he didn't stop chewing, he watched Nami with puppy dog eyes, waiting for her answer.

Sighing heavily, Nami picked up a fork. Zeff gave her the full course routine, “Cut extra small. Easier on the stomach and no need for a knife.”

Nami glowered at him, “Why? Afraid I'll do something to myself?”

“Afraid you'll do something to him,” Zeff nodded to Luffy, who was still watching her with meat-laden breath. “When he inevitably tries to steal from your plate, I'd prefer he keep all his fingers.”

“I’ve still got a fork,” Nami reminded him, letting it flash in the light.

“As long as he keeps his fingers, I don’t care how many holes you put in him,” Zeff laughed. “Now please, eat.”

Letting her head drop, Nami knew he wasn’t going to leave her be until she did. Piercing a piece with said fork, she brought it to her mouth. She hadn’t been lying about not being hungry. But the insanely appetizing smell had gotten her stomach rumbling. When was the last time she ate? Maybe two or three days ago.

With one last distrusting glance, she stuck the piece of duck into her mouth. At once, she was struck with a perfect harmony of flavors. The savory richness of the duck was beautifully complemented by the bright, citrus sweetness of the tangerine sauce. The meat was so tender that it melted in her mouth. The sweet-tartness of the sauce left a lingering zest on her tongue as she swallowed it down.

Nami must not have been able to mask her reactions, as Zeff gave her a hubristic grin. “Enjoy,” he left the table, hobbling back to the back.

Luffy, already nearly finished with his stack of meat, was eyeing Nami’s plate. “That looks good…” he wiped drool from his chin as if his face wasn’t covered with sauce. Nami deftly spun her fork around in her fingers, holding it threateningly.

He pulled back, happy to watch her eat. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn't frowning anymore.

It was a start.

************************************************

“Hey Nami, check out this cool bug I found!”

It was Hell. Nami was in Hell. Hell was not fire and brimstone. Hell was an irritating boy shoving bugs in her face.

He had brought her to a park. And then to a nature trail within the park. And then, immediately upon setting foot within, took her straight off the beaten path. The two of them were trekking through the woods again.

He was happily marching along, leading her deeper and deeper into the brush. Nami's mind was in a fragile state, leaving her to follow behind him. But she wasn't so far gone she had to do it quietly.

“Why are we doing this?” she asked, her voice stronger than before, but still missing that spark of energy she usually had.

“Cause it's fun!” Luffy spoke extra loud, practically yelling. “Every time I come through here, it's a new adventure!”

Nami plugged her ears, “Why are you shouting?!”

“So if we get split up again, you can find me easier!” He picked up a stick from the ground, swinging it side to side as he cleared the path before him.

“I'm not going to get lost,” Nami frowned. But kept following him.

“But there's no stars this time!” Luffy whipped himself around. “You won't be able to-”

Nami grabbed his lips, squishing his mouth shut. “If the sun is out, then it's even easier to find my way.”

“Mmmmm!” Luffy had a look of understanding underneath her clenched fist. She, very reluctantly, released him from her grasp. “Why don't you like bugs? They're so cool!” At least he was being quieter.

“Bugs are not cool,” Nami turned up her nose. “They are disgusting, and terrible, and they scare me.” She paused for a moment. “...I suppose I can tolerate butterflies. They're pretty, at least. And some moths. The ones that light up. And fireflies, but you hardly see them anymore. That's it. The rest can burn for all I care.” Luffy wasn't arguing. That was suspicious. She looked back down at him.

He was holding up a beetle bigger than his thumb that he had pulled from a hole in the dirt. She froze. He looked from her, to the beetle, to her, and back to the beetle. He took one step forward.

She took four back.

His eyes widened. He pursed his lips. “Luffy,” Nami warned him. “Don't you dare.”

He giggled out a grin, hunching down, his feet digging into the dirt. She was on the back step, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. If he chased her with that bug, she was going to run for the biggest stick she could find and break it over his head.

She stared him down, and he watched her gleefully. Her eyes darted over to the bug, its legs twitching and writhing as it tried to free itself from Luffy's grasp. The boy's eyes followed hers. His grin got the tiniest bit smaller. Then, ever so slowly, he lowered himself down and gently laid the beetle back into the dirt. It burrowed underneath as soon as it could. Nami let out the breath she was holding.

From his lowered position, Luffy darted forward with a tremendous burst of speed. Nami shrieked and scrambled away, sprinting with all her might. Under branch and over brush she ran, fleeing whatever he had in store for her.

“I'm gonna get ya!” she heard him call. She ran faster, leaping over a fallen branch in the path. There was a loud crash from behind her, a snapping of wood. Allowing herself to slow her pace, she looked behind her. She managed to catch the last second of Luffy tumbling through the air as he had attempted to plow through the branch and got clotheslined instead. He crashed hard into the dirt and leaves.

Nami tried to hold back her laugh, but it exploded out with an embarrassing snort. Pulling himself up, he didn't bother dusting himself off. He was too transfixed by the sight of the girl doubled over with laughter. His smile shone as bright as hers.

He did it.

Luffy didn't hesitate and charged at her again. She stumbled as she dashed away, wailing, “Nooo!” But her laughter still rang through the trees.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He chased her through the trees, laughing and taunting. She found her way back to the trail and picked up her pace as the terrain cleaned up for her. He ran full force, slowly making ground on her.

They burst out into the sunlight, the trees giving way for a wide stretch of tall green grass. Nami ran into it, slowing herself down. She turned to say, “Okay, that-”

He hadn't slowed down in time and barreled into her. They fell, tumbling to the ground. Instinctively, Luffy cradled her head. He couldn't twist them around in time, leaving him to land on top of her with a heavy, “Oof!”

Their legs were tangled together, his knee between her thighs. His chest pressed down against hers. Were… were girls always this soft?

His free hand was planted alongside her head, while she rested atop his arm. He pulled it back, his hand slowing as his fingers tangled through her silky orange hair. He looked down at her, their faces so close together. Her lips were so inviting. He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew he could find it with her.

She looked up at him, her bright, chocolate eyes meeting his. Her hand reached up, nimble fingers caressing his cheek. Her thumb traced the scar beneath his eye. She blinked slowly. Trying to take all of him in. Her hand trailed lower, her fingers less than an inch from his lips.

Then she flicked his nose.

“Ah!” Luffy jerked back. “What was that for?”

Nami sighed but still gave him a small laugh, “Are you going to lay on top of me all day, or are you going to help a girl up?”

Luffy looked down, blinking his eyes as he saw the way her body molded around his. “Uhhhh…”

The redhead snorted, “Get up, you’re heavy.”

“Right, yeah.” He hopped to his feet, taking her hand and helping her to hers. She patted herself down, brushing off any stray leaves and grass. Once she was clean, she took her first proper look around the area.

“Wait, where is this?” she asked. “I’ve been to this park before, but I’ve never seen a field like this.”

“Oh, it's kinda tucked away,” Luffy had his hands behind his head. His eyes were closed as he faced the sun. “Nobody ever really comes here, so it's nice and quiet.”

Nami pursed her lips. “Did you… Did you lead me here?”

“Eh, a little?” Luffy shrugged. “I wanted to come here, but I was gonna take you later. You're the one who busted through that bush.”

“I what?” Nami looked behind him. There was a distinct human-shaped patch dug out of a bush. “Oh.” She didn't even remember running through it. She saw light and ran in its direction, she supposed.

“But yeah, I love this spot!” Luffy took her hand and led her down the way. “Me and my brothers and Gramps used to come here all the time. They'll be back in town soon, you should come with me next time!”

Next time

Next time

next time…

Being with Luffy was good for Nami's heart. For her peace of mind. He was so full of joy and energy that it passed over into her. She felt lighter when she was with him. She felt like things were better. Being with Luffy made her forget how horrible her life was. But all it took were two words to bring all of that crashing down.

A single mention of the future reminded her that she didn't have one anymore.

However much he had lifted her up didn't matter. She went spiraling back down, below even the ground. She was back to where she was- No. Worse than the morning. Because she had seen a glimpse of what could have been. A life where she had never been placed under the thumb. Where she didn't have to claw and scrape for every moment of survival. Where she could be happy. With him.

It would never be. It couldn't. Not with her like she was. A worthless, selfish ball of anger and misery. In the beginning, when she first suggested they pretend to date, she thought she was better than him. A prize that he could tell people he had won. But she knew the truth. He was too good for her. He deserved better than her. He shouldn't have to get his heart broken when…

When he comes to take her away.

She didn't know she had stopped dead in her tracks until his arm yanked hers, as the distance between them made them go taut. Luffy turned, his eyes flooded with concern and… was that disappointment? In himself for failing to cheer her up? Or in her for… for sliding back down? For failing him? For wasting his time?

“Why are you so nice to me?” She heard words tumble out of her mouth, but no conscious thought gave birth to them. They kept flowing and flowing, never stopping, all of her anxiety spilling over at once. “I'm awful. I'm mean, I threaten you, I steal from people…” Her whole body was trembling. “I'm not worth wasting your time on. I don't deserve any kindness. I-”

Luffy stood mere inches before her. He had moved so silently that she hadn't noticed. Or had she been so caught up in her descent that she couldn't see what was right in front of her. “Of course you do!” he shouted. His face was red, his breathing heavy. A wild look in his eyes gave her pause. He looked… Angry.

“Wha…” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah.” She flinched. “‘Cause I hate when people talk about my friends like that.” Something inside her chest twinged. She had to look away. He shined so bright, and her eyes were too used to the dark. He grabbed both sides of her face and forced her to meet his gaze. “Nami, you are my friend. If you're sad, that makes me sad. And I don't like being sad. So I'll do anything to make you happy again. Okay?”

He let her go. Her head slowly dipped down, her eyes locked on the ground. But she wasn't arguing anymore. A few tears rolled from her eyes, dripping into the grass. He was about to say something else when she grabbed his hand.

She was still down. Still sad. But he felt that things would be alright. As they walked out of the park, hand in hand, she still shuffled along. Outwardly, nothing had changed. She was just as she was in the morning. Barely functioning. Barely alive. But even through all that, she had a death grip on his hand as he led her towards the setting sun.

Because he was the last lifeline she had left.

************************************************

He took her to a rock club. He insisted it wasn't the same one they went to before, but her weary eyes couldn't tell the difference. They got banned from the first one in the first place. She did see that the neon sign was different. This one said, “Whiskey Peak”, so she believed him. There was no point in doing anything else but following in his wake.

Tonight was the Battle of the Bands. Their prior gig was a precursor to tonight. A way to let rising stars introduce themselves to the audience and for the unworthy to be weeded out. Only the best of the best (within city limits) were left, and Luffy and his boys had made the cut.

He stayed by her side for as long as he could. They wouldn't allow her backstage. Bands and crew only, the security guy said. No groupies. Luffy wanted nothing more than to punch him out for calling her that, but even she didn't react.

He took her to the side of the main floor, off in the shadows, to keep her safe. The last time, she had been able to take care of herself. This time, she quietly followed along with everything he wanted her to do. The last thing he wanted was someone taking advantage of her. But everyone he knew would be on stage with him or working behind the scenes. He just had to hope nothing would happen.

When they called his band's name, leaving her was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He gave her a parting hug, noting that she didn't hug him back. She didn't look at him when he left. She wasn't looking at anything. He left her in the dark; the place she called home.

The Straw Hats stepped onto the stage, and the crowd roared. Zoro counted them off like he always did. They were in this to win. Second place was the same as last. They had to play their asses off to make a name for themselves.

Nobody would have blamed Luffy for playing badly. If his heart wasn't in it that night. In fact, he had thrown all of their planning out the window the moment he stepped on stage. He wasn't playing to win. He wasn't playing for the crowd. He wasn't playing for himself.

He was playing to get the girl he liked to smile. He had done it once, and he'd do it again. Even if it killed him.

Something magical happened at Whiskey Peak that night. Luffy tapped into something otherworldly, putting on a transcendent performance. His selfless desperation, his stubborn kindness, his refusal to give up on her. All melded together to create the greatest guitar-playing he might ever have done.

His notes passed through the crowd, touching every soul it went through. His strings sang like a choir of angels. His chords pulsed like a mob of devils. Every person in attendance that night would tell their grandchildren of the time they saw Monkey D. Luffy play live before his big break.

And a rising tide raised all ships. Zoro attacked his drums with a ferocity that bordered on sadistic, the skins threatening to split with each strike. But they held firm. Usopp's fingers danced across his keyboard, flourishes finding themselves between the keys. Sanji's bass had never been chunkier or slapped harder, and conversely, his voice had never been so smooth. The four of them were forever changed that night. Where once they had been acquaintances, once they had been friends, once they had been a band. After this night, they were brothers forevermore.

And Luffy didn't notice any of it for a moment.

His eyes were locked on Nami the entire time, watching as she barely reacted to his music. The songs he played for her. His chest hurt, and he played harder. Trying to fight the ache. Trying to make her happy. Trying everything he could to bring her back to where she was before. When he carried her through the woods, the two of them laughing their heads off.

He missed that Nami. The Nami who would bite his head off when he said something stupid. The Nami who was strong, inside and out. The Nami who made him feel so light and free and full from simply walking in the room. He knew what they had together wasn't real. He knew she was merely tolerating him to give herself peace of mind. It was selfish of him to want her to change. But he had always been selfish. He wanted her back. And the only way she would come back is if he made her smile. And no matter how hard he tried, she couldn't.

That night, he failed her. But his efforts still paid off.

************************************************

“Is this real? I don’t- Tell me I'm not dreaming!” Usopp was bent at the waist, hands on his knees, his chest heaving.

“Usopp? Usopp, you're awake!” Luffy scrambled over to his friend, shaking him wildly by the shoulders. “Usopp! Wake up!” He pulled his hand back to slap him awake.

It was instead met with a slap from Sanji, who had just returned through the curtain. “I didn't think we would win!” he said. “I was happy to get more eyes on us! This is nuts!”

“Didn't think you had it in you, Kitchenbitch,” Zoro leaned against a wall, his knee bent, foot planted behind him. He crushed an empty beer can in his grip before glancing around for another one.

“I could say the same, Mosshead,” Sanji shot back. “Tell me, how are you already an alcoholic at 18?”

“Guys, can we not start fighting already?” Usopp asked after snapping himself back into focus. “Sanji, did you get it?”

“Hell yeah, I did!” He proudly raised an embossed, leather briefcase. “First prize! Five grand!”

“How much?” Nami asked.

The blond snapped open the case to show her. “Five thousand dollars in cold, hard cash, baby!”

“Guys… Guysh…” drool poured from Luffy's mouth. “We can get five thoushand dollarsh worth of meeeaaat…”

“Idiot!” Zoro smacked him over the head. “We're not wasting our money like that. Not when we can get five thoushand dollarsh of beer…” An equal amount of drool poured from the drummer's mouth.

Sanji snapped the briefcase shut. “We are not burning through five grand to fill your bottomless stomachs!”

“Yeah, guys!” Usopp sided against the gluttons. “We need to put this money back into the band! We can get better instruments, pay for roadies when we need them, we can get recording equipment! Put our stuff online!”

“Although, I could use a new set of knives,” Sanji set the briefcase at his feet so he could cross his arms. “I keep the old ones in good condition, but I can't get them as sharp as they used to be.”

“Meat! Meat! Meat!” Luffy chanted.

Zoro got in Sanji's face, “Oh, so I'm not allowed to get drunk, but you can spend our money on cooking shit?”

“Yeah!” Sanji yelled, stepping to him just as hard. “Because my knives will last a hell of a lot longer than you renting beer!”

“How would I even rent beer?” yelled Zoro. "That's just stupid!”

“BECAUSE YOU PISS IT OUT!” Sanji shouted.

“Guys, knock it off!” Usopp had to shout as well just to be heard. “There's a simple solution to all of this!” His three bandmates stared at him, most of the lights off in their homes. “There's five grand, and four of us.”

“So, we all get…” Luffy tried to count on his fingers, steam practically spewing from his ears.

“One thousand each, to do with as we please.” Usopp grinned, for some reason smugly.

“Oh yeah?” Sanji flicked the keyboardist's big nose. “And who gets the last thousand, smart guy?”

Usopp only got more smug. “We use the last thousand to throw a big ass party.”

The other three looked from him, to each other, then back. “Will there be meat(booze)[girls]?” they asked simultaneously.

“I mean, we're throwing the party,” Usopp shrugged. “There can be whatever we want.” There was a brief lull, while the boys took that in. Then, like the boys their age they were, once excited they became a pack of barbarians. They screamed and shouted, slamming arms and fists into each other as primate instincts took them over.

Just as it started, it was over. They laughed, they cheered, they clapped each other on the back. “Okay, alright…” Sanji wiped a tear from his eye. “Since we can't trust those idiots with the money-”

“Why not?!” Luffy and Zoro yelled. Luffy was confused while Zoro was irate.

“Because you will spend it all on something stupid,” he said, pointing at Luffy. “And you will end up losing it.” The Two of them protested, but Sanji continued, “And since I can see myself getting conned out of it by a pretty girl.” Zoro laughed at him. Sanji gave him the finger. “So until the party, you're in charge of the money, Usopp.”

Usopp gulped, but nodded his head a few times. “I am ready for this responsibility,” he said, already beginning to sweat. “Hand it over.”

“What? I already did.” Sanji frowned. “What'd you do with it?”

“What did-” Usopp sputtered. “You set it down! I watched you!”

“No, I di-” Sanji stared off into space, his absent-minded action returning to his memory. “Where is it?! It was right there!”

“Guys…” Luffy began to tremble. “What if it was a g-g-g-ghost?”

“It wasn't a ghost!” Sanji snapped at him. “Someone stole our money! Right from under my nose!”

“Luffy…” Zoro grumbled.

“What are we gonna do?!” Luffy panicked. “What happens to all the meat now?!”

“We have bigger concerns than meat!” Usopp yelled. His legs were antsy, his head darting from one side of their backstage zone to the other. “Maybe it hasn't gotten far?”

“Yeah, it might still be close by!” Sanji scrambled, tossing the place apart in his search. The other two joined him, boxes flying open and across the room as they performed their first act of rockstar vandalism.

Zoro, meanwhile, stood where he started, his fists balled at his sides. “Luffy!” he snarled, his teeth clenched, his eyes dark. No one heard him, their terror shutting down mental faculties. They rushed past him again and again, not even noticing he wasn't helping the search.

The next pass Luffy made before him, the drummer snatched him by the arm. “LUFFY!” he shouted, right in his face.

“Ow!” Luffy yanked his arm away. “What?!”

“Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

************************************************

The echoes of her footfalls mixed with the distant thunder. Her limbs ached, her lungs burned. But still she ran. She needed to get as far from those boys as she could. Before they realized what she had done.

The briefcase bounced against her hip on every odd step. At one point, she feared that it would fall open on her, but it was made of sturdier stuff than she had thought. Her fingers were clenched so tightly around the handle that she would have trouble letting it go later. But she would have to. It wasn't hers. She was neither the original nor the future owner.

She hadn't even known there was a cash prize on the line for this competition. She thought it was just another show. For just over the exact amount of money to fall in her lap like that… Nami didn't believe in karma. Too many bad things had happened to her with no reversal of fortune. But if getting shot in the hand the night before manifested this briefcase full of money, then she wasn't going to complain.

Deciding she had run far enough, she slowed to a stop. She sucked in greedy mouthfuls of air, desperate to ease the burn in her chest. As she did, she slipped the second thing she had stolen from her pocket.

Zoro's phone lit up in her palm. She had figured he was the least likely to have any sort of lock on his phone, and she had figured correctly. She had lifted it from his pocket while he was distracted and drooling over beer. The briefcase came when Usopp grabbed all the attention for himself with his money-splitting proposal. She slipped out the back after that and took off into the night.

She checked the time. 11:36. Less than half an hour to go. But she did it. She punched in his number. He picked up after one ring. Even with an unknown number, he knew who was calling.

“Cutting it awful close, aren't we?” came his tinny, rancid voice.

“I've got your money,” Nami felt a wave of relief over simply saying those words. The words she had dreamed of saying for the last ten years.

“I knew my little girl could do it,” she could hear his sinister grin through the phone.

She spat, “I'm not your little girl!”

Arlong chuckled, “You do have your mother's temper, that's for sure.”

“Stop talking about her like that! Like she was your fucking wife! You killed her!” Nami was seeing red, her chest heaving as the rage took her over.

“Well, you won't have to put up with me for much longer,” he said. “A deal is a deal, after all. And I always hold up my end of the bargain.”

“Sure,” she took some deep breaths to calm herself, holding the phone away so he wouldn't hear.

“I'll come by in the morning to pick it up. I'll fill out my half of the deed transfer paperwork now.” There was that grin in his voice again. “As a show of good faith.”

“Fuck that! You come by tonight!” Nami snapped. “I'm not letting you weasel your way out of this because you didn't get paid by midnight! I know your game!”

There was a pause. Then slow, open-mouthed laughter. “I knew I raised you right.”

She wanted to shout, ‘You didn't raise me!’ But she bit her tongue. Stop trying to piss him off, he might change his mind.

“I've got a man in the area,” Arlong said. “I'll send him by for the pickup. And we'll consider this phone call as you meeting your deadline. It wouldn't be fair if my guy gets caught in traffic on the way, would it?”

“Tell him to hurry,” Nami said. “The sooner I never have to deal with you again, the better.”

“Oh, you're breaking your daddy's heart.”

She didn't bother responding. She hung up. She wanted to scream, but she held it in. One last night. One last night dealing with his “business partners”. She would get his money delivered. She would receive the deed to her house. And then- and then…

Nami had spent the majority of her life waiting for this moment. Her opportunity for freedom. But she had never planned for after that. What was she going to do after this was all over? She didn't like to think about her future. Because she almost didn't have one. Maybe she could call Luffy and-

The briefcase bumping against her hip was a cold reminder. She had burned that bridge, and there was no going back. She had stolen from him, and she would make sure that she never saw him again. He would be angry. Betrayed. Looking for retribution if he ever found her.

As she walked home, other faces flashed through Nami’s mind. Faces of friends past. Of victims past. People she had gotten close to so she could rob them blind. A particular, blue-haired girl stuck out from the pack. That one had hurt.

But she had persevered. She had gotten past it. That friendship was dead and gone, but the money she got from pawning that jewelry was safely sitting beneath her mother’s tangerine grove. It was worth it. It was always worth it. Any pain was temporary. Freedom was eternal. She would move past it. Like she always did.

But why did this time hurt so much more than all the rest?

Chapter Text

“What do you mean, ‘where is she?’”

“Luffy, I know you’re stupid,” Zoro’s face was twitching, his rage barely contained. “But you’re not that stupid.”

Sanji stepped in, spitting his burnt down cigarette to the floor. “Are you seriously accusing Nami of-”

“I don’t need to accuse when it’s a fact!” Zoro snapped.

Usopp stood in the corner, chewing on his thumb, “It makes sense... I hate it, but it makes sense…”

“What are you saying?” Luffy frowned, more confused than anything.

“Alright, I’ll lay it out for you,” Zoro said with a sigh. He put up a finger. “Your girlfriend is a thief.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Luffy shouted, getting in his face.

Zoro pushed him away. “She had a purse full of wallets!” he yelled. “Where do you think she got them from?!” Luffy opened his mouth to shout something, but no answer came out. Zoro put his finger back up. “Your girlfriend is a thief.” Luffy’s frown deepened, but he didn’t interrupt. Zoro kept counting. “Our money is gone. Your girlfriend is gone. Do the fucking math!”

“She wouldn’t do that!” Luffy pushed him. Zoro didn’t hesitate to throw a punch. Luffy’s head rocked back and he was on him in an instant, tackling him to the ground. Fists flew wildly, pounding into flesh and bone and the floor. Luffy’s hat went flying across the room. Sanji and Usopp rushed in to pull them apart and earned a few elbows for their trouble. The keyboardist recoiled away while the singer/bassist added his boots to the mix, stomping his bandmates into backing away.

The usually tight-knit duo stumbled back to their feet, their shirts ripped and some fresh bruises starting to show. Zoro's nose was stained with blood. Courtesy of Sanji. They stared each other down for a moment before charging back in. This time, their bandmates were ready. Sanji pulled Luffy’s arms behind his back while Usopp desperately clung to Zoro’s legs.

“She wouldn’t do that!” Luffy yelled once more, writhing futilely in Sanji's grasp.

Zoro rolled his eyes, kicking Usopp off his leg, but stood his ground. He groaned, “Luffy, open your eyes-”

“SHE WOULDN’T DO THAT!!!” Luffy screamed. If the other people backstage hadn’t been alarmed by the fight, they sure were by the window-rattling voice. In the silence that followed, all that could be heard were his shuddering breaths. His head hung low, and his arms fell listlessly in Sanji's grip. “Not without a good reason,” he croaked.

Sighing, Zoro stepped up to him. “Well, when you find her, and our money, you can find that good reason with her.” Luffy shook himself free, and Sanji stepped away.

Panting, his face twisting as all manner of emotions coursed through him, Luffy looked at his best friend with half a smile and half a frown. He forcefully jabbed his finger into Zoro's chest. “You’re gonna feel really stupid when I show you you’re wrong.”

Zoro's gaze shifted, a hint of empathy in his eyes. He nodded at his best friend, “I hope so.”

Luffy bent down to pick up his hat, dusted it off, and dropped it on his head. He looked back at Zoro, a look of grim determination on his face. No more words needed to be said. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and took off, slamming through the exit door and running into the night.

“Jesus…” Usopp finally let out the breath he had been holding. “Should we, uh… Keep looking? Around here? Just in case…”

“You’re asking if I’d rather bank on a woman not being heartless?” Sanji chuckled as he packed his box of cigs against his hand, shaking one loose. He raised it to his lips. “It’s like you don’t know me at al-”

Zoro threw a sucker punch into Sanji’s nose.

He doubled over, cigarettes tumbling to the floor as he clutched his face. “What the fuck?!”

“Don’t think I didn’t see where you were aiming those stomps, asshole!”

“You wanna take this outside, mother fucker?!”

Usopp held his head in his hands, “Goddammit.”

************************************************

Luffy often struggled with following directions. He rarely chose which path he took, often traveling whichever way the wind blew. But for the important places in the city, he knew where to go. Zoro’s house. Usopp’s apartment. The Baratie. Whichever rock club the Straw Hats ended up jamming at. East Blue High, oddly enough, not on that list. He always followed Usopp or Sanji there. But there was something different about Nami’s house. Something special.

He had only been there three times before. Each time he had come from a different starting point. Each path he took to get there gave him no directional information to retain. But still, with only the central location in his mind, something drew him there. The smell of tangerines on the wind? Some ingrained knowledge from his years of exploration? Fate’s invisible hand, guiding him towards her? Whatever it was that helped him along, it got him to her before she could get home.

“Nami!” he cheered, waving at her from a streetlamp away. She nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around with a wild, terrified look in her eyes. She slammed the briefcase behind her back. But not quickly enough.

“Oh, you do have it!” Luffy blew out a relieved breath and wiped sweat from his brow. “I was really worried there that we lost it! That’s a lot of money!”

“What are you doing here, Luffy?” Nami asked, taking a step back. Away from him.

“I was looking for you!” he grinned. “Man, am I glad to see you’re okay! Let’s get back to the club! Everyone was really worried about you!”

She gawked at him, eyes darting this way and that. “What are you, stupid?” She shook her head. “Of course, he’s stupid. You know that,” she muttered to herself. He took a step forward. She jerked back another step, “Stay back!”

He froze. Watching her. Seeing how wide her eyes were. How her legs trembled. How fiercely she held that briefcase behind her. Away from him. “Nami, are you scared?” There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. His voice got quieter. “Are you scared of me?”

She didn’t answer. He frowned. “You shouldn’t be scared of me, Nami. We’re friends-”

“We are not friends!” she exclaimed. Whatever fear was in her had turned into anger. Rage. “I’m not your friend! I’m not your girlfriend! None of this was real! You mean nothing to me!”

He blinked at her, his head cocking in confusion in that way she used to think was cute. “Why are you lying?”

“I stole from you!” Nami was heated, her face red as she yelled at him. “All of this was so I could take something from you! You were just another mark! I- I hate you!”

Luffy took another step forward. Her feet were solidly on the ground now. “Nami, whatever the problem is… Please, tell me what it is.” His hands were up. Placating. Calming. “I just want to help-”

“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING HELP!” Nami screamed. “I don’t need you! I don’t want you! The only thing you ever do is make things worse! So, go home! Go away! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

“Nami…” Luffy reached out for her, still trying to close the gap. She jerked away from him. Lights in the nearby houses began to turn on. Neighbors were stirred from their slumber by her heated shouting match. Time to go. She didn’t give him another word before turning to run.

And he let her. Luffy stood there, on the sidewalk, right on the edge of the light, reaching into the darkness. And he watched her go. He watched her shrink into the distance, feet pounding the whole way. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Doors opened nearby him, but he paid them no mind.

Once she was out of sight, he pulled out his phone. Finger clumsily tapping away at the cracked glass, he pulled up Usopp’s number. It rang. Once. Twice.

“Luffy!” his voice echoed. There was angry shouting in the background. Zoro and Sanji, at it again. “Guys, shut up!” Usopp’s voice dipped in volume for a moment, turning away to snap at them. “Luffy, did you find her?”

He didn’t say anything. “Luffy?” He pulled up his GPS app. The last address put in there was hers, from the night she took him home. The night she took care of him. He sent it to Usopp. A moment later, “What’s this?”

“Take Merry there,” Luffy said, calm but firm. “Something’s wrong.”

************************************************

She rounded the corner to her house, her heart pounding. That was… That was awful. Nami had burned many bridges in her life. Often via theft itself. But there were some people who came after her. Being her usual, aggressive self was good enough to drive them away. She wasn’t worth it, you see. She was a lost cause. A wretched little thief who saw no value in friendship. Beyond them, there were a select few who earnestly tried to get through to her. It used to be a single-member club, but thanks to Luffy, there were matching jackets now.

Vivi. A girl Nami had practically grown up with. The closest person she ever had to calling a friend. They played together at the park when Nami was still little. Too little to be making the kind of money she could once she had gotten older, so she could afford the time. Nojiko made her go. To try and salvage some amount of her childhood. They never went to each other’s houses, and that was just fine. Nami was happy to have someone to run around with.

One day, Vivi’s chauffeur came to pick her up. At once, Nami’s entire perspective of her changed. No longer was she the blue-haired girl who liked to dance among the tall grass. Now she was the rich girl. The mayor’s daughter.

The owner of many expensive items.

Nami managed to get herself invited to a sleepover. They were 13. When Vivi had gone to sleep, Nami went on the prowl. She found a dusty box filled with jewelry that no one was going to miss. She didn’t learn that it belonged to Vivi’s late mother until after she had pawned them.

When Vivi confronted her (because who else would it have been?) Nami tried to drive her away. She owned up to the theft. Said she stole it because she wanted to. The whole reason she had become friends with her was to eventually rob her. She was rich after all. Easy pickings.

But Vivi... Pure, honest… Kind Vivi. She didn’t buy it. She pushed and pushed, trying to break through that shell Nami had sealed herself inside. She wanted to know why. What had driven her to steal? What was she so afraid of that she was willing to throw a years-long friendship aside? She asked all the right questions, and Nami, a cornered animal, reacted accordingly.

Much like with Luffy, she screamed at her. All the cruel and vile things her heart never genuinely felt. She screamed at her where everyone could hear. Where everyone could see how awful Nami was. How profoundly beyond salvation she was. How she wasn’t worth the effort.

And still, Vivi refused to give up on her. She was fully aware that Nami's words carried no truth. She knew they were closer than that. She didn’t leave Nami with any choice other than to run away. To sever all ties completely. To never speak to her friend again. And for five years, she hadn’t.

Shaking her head, Nami tried to drive the miserable memories away. Years had passed without a single thought of Vivi crossing her mind. This wasn’t the time to get sentimental. She had a deal to finish. Stepping through her front door, she jumped as Nojiko and Genzo leapt from their seats.

“Nami! Thank god!” Genzo clutched his chest, his heart no doubt pounding as the tension eased away at the sight of her. The retired sheriff still wore his old cap, the pinwheel still stuck through the brim. “Did he do something? We’ve been trying to get ahold of you all night!”

“It’s okay,” Nami reassured him. “I pawned my phone. I’m fine.”

“There’s still time. Okay. Okay!” Nojiko scrambled over to the coffee table, where she picked up some papers. “Dad and I put what we had together and-”

“Nojiko, it’s fine,” Nami felt a lump in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

“No, it’s not for the pile!” Nojiko shoved the paper at her. “It’s a bus ticket. There’s still time! It’ll get you down to Oregon, and we can work out the rest later! But you need to go now!”

“Nojiko!” Nami put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I said, it’s fine.”

“How is any of this-”

Nami raised the briefcase. “I got it.”

“You got…” Nojiko’s eyes widened. “You got it?”

“I got it!” Nami’s jaw trembled as the smile she couldn’t hold back stretched across her face.

“Oh my god!” Nojiko lurched forward, collapsing onto her sister. Tears of relief and joy rolled down her face. Genzo, dumbfounded, slowly shuffled forward and wrapped his girls up in a hug. Even the old curmudgeon couldn’t stop his eyes from watering. The family held each other, connected by a warm embrace that they had gone far too long without.

After a minute, Nami pulled away, wiping her eyes. Nojiko took a moment to calm her breathing. “Does he know? You’ve only got fifteen minutes.”

“I called him on the way,” Nami nodded. “He said he’s sending someone to pick it up.”

“I thought you said you pawned your phone,” Genzo said. “How-”

Nami pulled Zoro’s phone out of her pocket. “Not my phone.”

He nodded, clearly unhappy with further theft, but he knew the things she did were necessary. He cast a keen glance at the briefcase. “And where did that come from?”

“I got lucky,” Nami said, both too quickly and too quietly. She knew her family knew something was up, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. “Look, let’s just sit down and-”

Nojiko leaned to the side, peering out the window. “Are those police lights?”

Nami whipped around to see flashing red and blue trickling into the neighborhood. “What?”

"Did the person you took that from see you?" Genzo asked, his voice gruff but strained. “Did they call it in?”

“No…” Nami felt cold. “No, he wouldn’t…”

Any hopes that the cops were after someone else were dashed the moment a half-dozen squad cars pulled into their driveway and onto the lawn. Cop after cop piled out of their cruisers, bustling over to the front door. And there, stepping from the back seat of the central car, was the rat bastard himself.

Nezumi.

“What the hell is he…” Nami trailed off as Arlong’s words rang in her ears. ‘I’ve got a man in the area. I’ll send him by for the pickup.’ She had been expecting Kuroobi or Chew, and she had been hoping for Hachi. The guy was an idiot, but he was at least nice to her. Didn’t perv on her like the others did. But Nezumi? She knew he was on Arlong’s payroll, but…

That wasn’t the point! Why had he shown up with a dozen cops?!

Genzo opened the door, his old police instincts kicking in. “What can I help you-”

He didn’t even get to finish a semblance of pleasantries before Nezumi shoved him out of the way. “Step aside, please,” he dismissed a man who should be his superior. "We are conducting an official police operation."

“Hey!” Genzo barked. “You can’t just come in here without a warrant! I need to see some-”

A cop passing by shoved him against the wall, making the old man grunt from the impact. An increasing number of police officers rushed in, all following Nezumi… Following him through the back door.

“Wait!” Nami hurriedly chased after them. “What are you-”

“The Social Security Administration does not permit individuals receiving benefits to possess more than two thousand dollars in assets,” Nezumi stood tall, like he was someone important and not a bribe-taking social worker. “We have received an anonymous tip that Miss Nami Mikan is currently in possession of upwards of seven hundred thousand dollars.” He gestured to the tangerine trees. “Over there. Dig where the soil is loose.”

“Stop!” Nami shouted, trying to shove her way past the wall of pigs. “He put you up to this, didn't he?! That lying bastard!”

“I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, Miss Mikan.” Nezumi idly checked his nails for dirt, having not lifted a finger this entire time.

“Goddammit, you all listen here!” Genzo bellowed, finally able to get outside. “I may not be on the force anymore, but I know your superiors, and I know they won't tolerate this level of disrespect!” He reached into his shirt to grab the badge he always wore, even in retirement. “I am former Sheriff Genzo-”

“HE'S GOT A GUN!”

Nami's life was torn apart in an instant. A half-dozen cops opened fire on her unarmed father. Blood shot out of him in bursts, splattering on the wall behind him. His body crumbled to the ground, his head landing hard on the concrete.

“DAD!!!” the girls shrieked. Nojiko ran to his side. Nami reached down and fished her knife out of her boot. In a flash, she swung it towards the nearest cop. One moment, she was aiming for his throat. The next she was lying in the dirt, a crushing pain in her cheek.

“Hey!” Nezumi grabbed the officer's collar. “Don't damage the merchandise!” His teeth were clenched, anger the first emotion he showed that wasn't smug superiority.

Nami's head spun, her knife slipping from her fingers as she was pulled up. She raised her dizzy eyes to see Nezumi standing over her. He sneered, then grabbed her shirt and ripped it. Instinctively, she covered her chest, only to see that it was her sleeve that had been torn. Her left sleeve.

The horrible, gnarled brand now lay exposed for all the cops to see. The twisted shark gleaming at them, reminding them who she belonged to. She couldn't move. Her legs wouldn't lift her. She couldn't do it. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't stop them from killing her dad. She couldn't stop them from stealing her money. She couldn't stop them from selling her.

“There we are!” Nezumi clapped as the chest was pulled from the soil. “That's what I want to see!” He knelt down to pop the chest open. “No lock? You have such faith in people." He laughed at her. She still couldn't move.

Her sister's wails brought her more into focus. Nojiko cradled their father's lifeless body. Blood smeared all over her. “Would someone shut the sister up already?” Nezumi snapped, not looking up from the mountain of money in his hands.

Two officers grabbed one arm each and hauled her to her feet. She kicked and fought, trying to drag herself back to Genzo. “Miss, I am placing you under arrest,” one of them said.

“For fucking what?!” Nojiko shouted, trying to shake herself out of their grasp.

“For resisting arrest,” the cop grunted. “You have the right to remain silent…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Nojiko spat. They were dragging her towards the front. She only had so much time. “Nami!” she cried. “Listen to me! I'll be fine! Don't worry about me! Just run! Run away!”

Nami could faintly hear her sister's words, even as they trailed away as they took her through the house. Just as her vision was beginning to clear up, it was blocked by an ugly, smug face. “There's nowhere you can run that he won't find you,” Nezumi smirked. “He owns you. And he always gets what's his.”

He walked away, the rest of the cops in tow, two of them carrying her chest. Another two hauled up Genzo's body and dragged it away. They wouldn't even give her time to mourn. In an instant, Nami's world had turned upside down. And just as quickly, it had ended. She could hear the police cars pulling away. See the lights as they faded into the distance. Quiet settled over her. Leaving Nami stuck in her greatest fear.

She was alone.

As the wind blew, chilling her exposed skin, she had no choice but to let it sink in. Nami's father was dead. Her sister was taken away. Her life trampled like fallen fruit into the dirt. And it was all her fault. If she had been faster, smarter, more determined, none of this would have happened.

Her fallen knife gleamed in the moonlight. Maybe things would be easier if she wasn't around anymore. If she took herself off the playing field. She could free herself from Arlong in an instant. All it would take…

Was breaking Nojiko's heart. It still hadn't quite sunk in that Genzo was gone. It had all happened so fast. But if Nami did what she was thinking, all she would be doing was taking away the last of her sister's family. She couldn't do that to her.

But that meant sticking around. It meant continuing to struggle. It meant letting the man who was really responsible for all this get away with it.

At once, Nami wasn't an angry young woman anymore. She was a scared little girl, locked in a room in a strange house. No food for days on end. Beatings so hard she couldn't see afterward. Daily threats. Reminders of what he had done to her mother. Promises of what he would do to her sister.

Her eyes locked onto the burn on her shoulder. The angry, seared flesh that served as a reminder. A reminder that everything that had gone wrong with her life, her mother's death, her imprisonment, her servitude, her criminal life… her father's death. Everything was because of

“Arlong…” her voice was quiet, filling with rage by the second. Her nails dug into the inflamed tissue. Blood trickled down as she broke the skin. “Arlong.” She scratched at it, trying to tear it off, to rip it from her flesh. “Arlong!” Skin and blood caught under her nails. If she couldn't remove it, then she could deface it. Prevent anyone seeing what it was. Keep anyone from knowing that she was like cattle to him.

“ARLONG!” She snatched up her knife from the ground, plunging it into her shoulder. She had to get it off! She would cut her entire arm off if she had to! “ARLONG!!” Again and again, she stabbed herself, blood pouring down her arm in streams. Tears of rage and hatred blurred her vision. Her shoulder burned; the pain was unbearable. But still, she kept stabbing! She had to get it off! “ARLONG!!!” She drove her knife down once more.

But her arm wouldn't move.

Long, calloused fingers clutched her wrist. She tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm. Not enough to hurt, but enough to stop her. He wasn't going to let go. So she did.

Her knife clattered to the ground. He dropped her, and her arm slumped down, falling limply at her side. She sat on her knees, her head low, hair covering her face. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Luffy was quiet, “It doesn't.”

“I told you to leave,” Nami's fist dug into the dirt. “I told you I never want to see you again.”

Luffy nodded, “You did.”

Her body trembled. “We're not friends. You're not my boyfriend.”

“I'm not.”

But still, he was there.

Her shoulders hunched as she bent forward, her hand finding its way to cover her face. She sat on the precipice of collapse. Everything had fallen out from under her, and only a single, solitary stone held. One held up with light, and joy, and wonder.

Slowly, she turned to him. Tears streamed down her face. Her lower lip trembled as she forced the words out.

“Luffy… Help me…”

One moment, he stood above her. The next he was down in the dirt, his strong arms wrapped around her.

And the dam broke. A decade of walls she had put up, all the protections she had put in place. Everything she had done to drive people away came tumbling down as she clung to him. Weeping.

Her tears were ugly, shuddering, loud, and painful. They were not the tears of an upset adult. They were the tears of a child, long locked away. A little girl who deserved the world and had it taken from her instead. A girl who had learned not to cry herself to sleep at night for fear of making too much noise.

A girl who could finally, finally share her pain with someone else.

She didn't know how long she sobbed. All she knew was he held her through it all. It didn't matter how much she tried to push him away. He would never leave her side. So, she made him an offer.

“Luffy, there's…” She swallowed hard to hold back another sob. He rubbed her back. “There’s a bus… We can…” She was so broken by all this that she had to climb up his shirt so her hands could reach his face. “We can go! We can run! You and me… We can go where… Where Arlong… Where he can't find us… Luffy I…” Her head fell. She buried herself into his chest. Her voice was so small when it broke, “I can't do this anymore!”

“It's okay,” were the first words he spoke since he hugged her. “You don't have to be afraid anymore. You're not alone.”

He held her through another wave of anguished sobs. He held her tight. He wanted to hold her all night. Because she needed him. She needed an anchor. Someone who could be strong for her when she was weak.

But she needed something bigger. Something concrete. She felt her heart plummet when he stood up. When he pulled away. Instinctively, she reached for him, but he was too far away. But still so close. She tried to stand, but he patted her on the head.

No. It was something more. She felt a warmth spread from the top of her head and make its way down to her toes. Trembling hands raised up to find his hat. The hat he had panicked over when he thought it was lost. The hat he had cried for when it was damaged. The hat he smiled so hard for when she gave it back to him, good as new.

Placed upon her head without a second thought.

“Luffy?” she struggled as she tried to rise to her feet. Her legs had gone weak. She could only see his back. As he walked away from her. “No… No, don't leave!”

He stopped. Not to acknowledge her plea. But to hunch down, his legs bent at the knee, his arms extended at his sides. He took in a deep breath.

When he shot to his feet, his arms high above his head, he let out a roar. One filled with sound and fury, emerging from somewhere deep within his gut. One that told Nami she had just set him on the warpath. And that chilled Nami to the bone.

“Luffy, wait!” she shouted, panic rising in her chest. She stumbled to her feet. “No! Luffy!”

But he was already back inside. Heading straight for the open front door. She chased after him, but he had too much of a lead. He stepped back out into the night where a red light awaited him.

Nami rounded the corner just in time to see him pop open the back door of that sheep-covered van. Merry. Zoro was seated on the rear bumper, one leg crossed over the other. Sanji stood by the passenger door, watching the smoke as it curled into the air. Usopp sat sideways in the driver’s seat, his arms crossed, and his head hunched low.

Luffy stepped up into the back of the van. “Let’s go.”

“Right.” The entire band was in unison. Four boys, ready for the trial by fire that would see them become men come morning. They all piled in, slamming the doors shut behind them. The engine already idling, Usopp pulled them down the street.

Nami's heart raced as she sprinted after them. “STOP!” she shrieked. “HE’LL KILL YOU! PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!!!” Fresh tears poured from her eyes. Fear gripped her heart once more. No longer afraid of what Arlong would do to her. But what he would do to… To her friends.

Ducking her head down, she ran with all her might. If she could get there quickly enough, she could stop this. She could save their lives.

Merely an hour ago, she would have stopped them on the merit that she wasn't worth it. She wasn't worth dying over. But now? If Luffy got killed because of her, she would fall into a pit she would never be able to drag herself out of.

And so, she ran.

Chapter Text

Her lungs burned, and her limbs ached as she rounded the corner, slamming through the gate to Arlong Trailer Park. Her fingers found their way to the straw hat still atop her head, having sat firm in her hair the whole way. After using the remnants of her sleeve as a makeshift bandage on the run over, the blood on her arm had dried into a flaking stain. Instead, it pounded in her ears at the chaos before her.

People were moving this way and that, avoiding the action while making sure to watch every second. Phones were out, so any hope of anonymity was out the window. Nami moved closer, praying in her heart to be spared the sight of any more bodies tonight.

She moved through the onlooking crowd, centering herself between two circles. One wrapped around Zoro as he savagely beat Hachi with a two-by-four. The people were shouting for blood. She cringed. Of all the people under Arlong's thumb, she hoped Hachi didn't die. He deserved a beating, that was for sure, but he was nice enough most days.

The rest could burn for all she cared.

On the opposite side, Kuroobi, who touted himself as a black belt in karate, was unable to land a single blow on Sanji. The blonde was playing to the crowd, showboating as he danced around the enraged man, delivering body blows with his feet on every opening.

Maybe they could actually do this. Maybe they could… She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. Things could turn bad in an inst-

Nami clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into the skin. She had to make herself stop thinking like that. Like everything would go wrong, no matter what she did. All she had left was hope, and she needed it to keep her moving forward.

Moving past the people, Nami searched for any further signs of life. Usopp was still unaccounted for. And Luffy… she clenched her jaw as she pushed forward, refusing to think about it. Glass broke ahead of her, and she hurried her pace. Turning the corner-

Oh god

Usopp was down! In the clearing to the left of Arlong's massive house, the boy lay face down in the dirt, clutching his stomach. Chew stood over him, rolled his shoulders, and spat out some chew. The slender man shoved his hands into his pockets and turned from the fallen boy, slamming the door of his own house behind him.

Nami lurched forward, but at the sound of the door shutting, Usopp shot his head up. He looked around, dusting himself off. He fished something from a pouch at his waist as he crept over to the closest window on Chew's place. He hurled something through the glass.

In an instant, Chew’s house was engulfed in flames.

Watching him run for the hills, Nami made a mental note to never fuck with Usopp. There was only one boy left to find, and she knew exactly where he would be. Cautiously, she approached the front door to Arlong’s McMansion. Inside, she could hear crashes and shouting and heavy thuds.

Nami grabbed the doorknob and froze. Was she really about to do this? This house… She couldn't go back there. Fear gripped her heart as all the memories flashed, fresh and clear and fast. Everything he had done to her, he had done within these walls. She had told herself she would rather die than go back to this place. But…

It took her a moment to realize that the sounds had stopped. The fighting had ended. Had Luffy done it? Had he succeeded where every other source of help she had sought out as a child had failed? Or had Arlong…

She had no way of knowing. Not until she opened that door. Hand trembling, chest tight, Nami pushed through the terror. One way or another, Luffy needed her. Just like she needed him. And neither of them would get that if she ran away.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside. No more running. No more hiding. This house reshaped her very being. Made her become a new person. And there was only one thing she could do. She had to stop running and confront the past.

************************************************

Fifteen Minutes Earlier…

Four young men exited their van, parked off to the side, out of sight. With the most identifiable vehicle in the city out of the way, they marched up the road. No words were needed. They all knew why they were there. Violence was in the air that night, and they were more than happy to provide.

Standing in a line, they drew attention. People peeked out from their trailers at the new arrivals. No one dared step outside. Everyone knew to keep to themselves after dark at Arlong Trailer Park.

It didn't take long before the local toughs made their appearance. One had his dark hair in a bun, his black wifebeater leaving his heavily muscled arms fully exposed. Another had white, spiked-up hair and a dopey look in his eyes. The third glared at them, his blonde hair slicked back and a lip full of dip.

He spat on the ground, splashing in their direction. “You boys're trespassing,” he said, his eyes sharp. “And we don't call the cops around here, if you take my meaning.”

“Good,” Zoro huffed. “That'll save you some embarrassment.”

Chew rolled his eyes and tapped the dark-haired one on the shoulder. He huffed, stepping forward. “Nothing personal, kids,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Bossman says to make an example out of trespassers, and I'm not giving up a paycheck for the likes of you.”

“Which one of you is Arlong?” Luffy asked, his gaze focused, his voice clear.

The trio glanced at each other. “The boss doesn't deal with this stuff himself,” said the spiky one, scratching his cheek. “That's what he pays us for!”

Luffy's eyes hardened, “Then get out of my way.”

The dark-haired one threw a punch, but only met Sanji’s shoe in his gut. The spiky one panicked for a second, running past Luffy and throwing a haymaker in Zoro’s direction. He leaned away and shot a fist of his own. As Luffy continued his walk towards the big house, Chew pulled a knife from his belt. Just as he swung his arm, he cried out, clutching his hand as both the knife and a ball bearing fell to the dirt. Usopp, his knees knocking, slingshot quivering, stared wide-eyed at the blonde man.

“Mother fucker!” Chew snarled before running after the already fleeing Usopp.

With the fight coming to life behind him, Luffy walked up the front steps, standing before the front door. He planted his feet, straightened his shoulders, and knocked.

A tall, burly man opened the door. His eyes went from Luffy to the building chaos behind him, and back to the boy. “You'd better have a good reason for bothering me this late, kid.”

“You made Nami cry.” Luffy's eyes never left his. His fists were clenched tight. Ready.

Arlong's eyes lit up, and a smile exposed his crooked teeth. “Oh my god, you're the boyfriend! I heard about you. Oh man, this is adorable!” He laughed. Luffy felt a fire burning inside him. “Did she send you to beat me up? Oh, that is precious.”

Shaking his head, Arlong swiped a hand through his greasy hair. “What a cherry on top of this day, I tell ya. Alright, kid, you put me in a good mood, so I'll let you walk away.” His smile fell, and his eyes flashed with something dangerous. “So fuck off, or I'll bury you.” He slammed the door in Luffy’s face.

He didn't wait a second before knocking again. Arlong opened the door, looking much less pleased. “I’m not gonna tell you agai-”

Luffy slammed his foot into the door, sending it smashing into Arlong’s face.

“Fuck!” the big man recoiled, rearing back from the blow. Luffy burst through the door, arms already swinging.

Inside, Arlong’s house was oddly rustic. Mostly wooden furniture, adorned with gaudy decorations. A crystal chandelier was completely out of place, hanging off-center from the ceiling. An extremely large television was mounted to the wall, and nearby sat an expensive-looking sound system. A record player was on the opposite wall; a large collection of vinyl sat beside it. Tacky paintings lined the wall, with no theme or connection between any of them. And in the center, beneath a pillar, sat a garish statue of a shark. All in all, it was the house of a man who had come into money but hadn't come into taste.

Luffy wasn't tall enough to punch Arlong's face without some effort, so he went for the easier target. A right jab to the stomach to draw his attention and a wide left hook to catch him in the kidney. They landed clean.

It was like punching iron.

He threw more punches, staying light on his feet and keeping his distance. He was shorter than Arlong, his arms not as long. He ducked under swings too slow to land, but deadly if they could. But nothing he did worked. Every punch might as well have whiffed for all the damage they did.

Thrown off by the sheer density of his muscle, Luffy didn't see the backhand coming. It caught him across the chin, knocking him off his feet. He landed with a crash, a lamp falling off a nearby table from the impact. Exuding malevolence, Arlong approached with deliberate intent. “You brought this on yourself, kid.”

From his back, Luffy kicked both of his feet into Arlong's shin. With the weight pulled out from under him, the big man went crashing to his knees. He hissed as the pain shot through him. Luffy didn't stop moving, rolling through the motion to get back on his feet. Sprinting full force, he leapt forward, his knee aimed squarely at Arlong's face.

Only to be caught in midair. One hand on his leg, the other digging into his side. Luffy flailed as the big man stood tall, lifting the boy above his head. With a grunt of rage, Arlong slammed Luffy into the floor. His back took the blow, having tucked his chin to protect his head.

He leaned back just in time to see a massive fist come barreling down toward him. Rolling out of the way, Luffy barely dodged a blow that shattered floorboards. Spinning around to Arlong's rear, he wrapped his arms around the big man's waist.

Feet planted, teeth clenched, Luffy leaned and pulled with all his might. Arlong was about to throw an elbow when he felt his feet lift off the ground. With a bellow of exertion, Luffy snapped his hips, sending Arlong hurtling backwards over his head, his own crashing into the floor.

Keeping his grip tight, Luffy swung his legs, lifting himself back to his feet. Arlong was dazed, making him easier to lift. Luffy pulled him back again, delivering another suplex to the vile man. Swinging his legs a second time, the third amigo landed with another heavy crash.

Releasing his grip, he let Arlong drop to the floor. But he wasn't allowed any reprieve. Despite his softened state, the big man was still trying to push himself up. Luffy gave himself a moment to breathe and figure out his next move.

He had been taught to fight by the three strongest guys he grew up with. His grandfather had shown him how to box Marine style, getting the boy ready for military life from a young age. Luffy took quickly to the punching and the footwork, but the strict rules couldn't keep his interest.

He and Ace had a backyard wrestling ring, and the two would practice moves on each other to show off to their friends and family. Luffy was in it for fun, but Ace felt something in his blood. With his older brother using him as a training dummy, he could only learn from being on the receiving end. His knowledge of wrestling moves was limited, but he knew what looked cool at least.

Sabo emerged as Luffy's third fighting mentor. He didn’t teach the boy any strikes, any holds, or any fighting moves in particular. He educated Luffy on the crucial mindset required for combat. That when you got into a fight, you needed to finish it as quickly and decisively as possible. So, with Arlong struggling to his feet, Luffy moved in to end things.

Wrapping his arm around Arlong’s throat, he crushed his bicep against the bigger man’s windpipe. His free arm grabbed his other wrist, pulling it tight. Luffy growled with the strain, feeling his arm burn with the strain. But as he pinched down Arlong’s carotid artery, he knew he only had to hold on for so long.

Arlong sputtered and choked, his air cut off. His arms flailed, trying to rip Luffy’s away from him. But the boy’s grip was too tight, his hold too secure. He fell forward, bracing himself on one hand while the other desperately tried to free himself.

Luffy lay across Arlong's back, his form contorted as he was drawn forward from the slumped position. His feet kicked at the floor, making sure he stayed in position. He shook his head vigorously, fending off Arlong's reaching hand. He shifted his knee, planting it into the man’s spine, pushing him further down. Arlong’s arm was trembling, losing strength fast. Luffy only had to hold on for a little while longer. Too focused on putting him down, Luffy ignored the fingers that found their way into his dark hair.

The next thing he knew, his face slammed into the floor.

He blinked and encountered it once more. And again. And again.

Arlong brutally slammed Luffy's face against the floor, sending splinters and blood flying with every impact. The boy’s arms had gone slack after the first hit, dazed from the sudden rock to the head. Now he hung helplessly while Arlong polished his hardwood floor with Luffy's blood.

Satisfied he had taught the boy a lesson, Arlong threw Luffy by his scalp across the room, sending him crashing into a bookcase, the wood shattering and the contents covering him as he lay in a heap. Dusting himself off, Arlong rose to his feet. “Trying to save a girl who thinks she knows better than her own father…” he said, grabbing a knife from a nearby table.

The knife was big. Far too big to be wieldy in a fight. It may have been intended to be a buckskinning knife, but it had clearly been modified. The blade was engraved with various ornate designs, vaguely reminiscent of sharks. What was much more reminiscent of a shark was the blade, serrated and sharp, like deadly row upon row of teeth.

Luffy was struggling to his feet. Two Arlongs were approaching him, something gleaming in their hands. When that hand came swinging down towards him, he didn’t have the strength to throw himself aside. The most he could muster in that moment was a slight lean. But it was enough to save his life.

But not enough to keep a knife from being buried to the hilt in his shoulder.

He screamed, thrashing wildly, his body trying to escape the pain. But Arlong held firm, his grip tight as he savored the agony he inflicted on Nami’s would-be savior. “You feel that?” he whispered, giving the knife a small twist, gleefully holding Luffy down as he twitched. “That’s in the bone. I got you good.”

Luffy huffed, sweat pouring down his face. His breath was ragged, his teeth clenched as he felt the warm flow of blood trickle down his arm. His head drooped low, only for Arlong to grab him by the hair and pull him up, making the boy look him in the eye.

“I think we’ve had enough fun for tonight,” Arlong said, his own breathing heavy as well. “If you want to keep that arm, walk away." Luffy tensed, his breath catching. “You put up a good fight, and I can respect that. So, I’ll be nice.” Arlong licked some blood from his teeth. “I’ll let you keep seeing our sweet, innocent Nami.” His grin widened, his filthy teeth turned a shade of copper. “As long as her schedule isn’t booked up, of course.”

Nami’s tormentor laughed, throwing his head back with a wild gleam in his eyes. “She spent so long scraping pennies together when you and I both know she would make five times the money in half the time working on her back!” Holding Luffy by his opposite shoulder, he yanked on the knife to pull it out.

But it wouldn’t budge.

Eyes darting from the hilt to Luffy and back, he saw the boy’s knuckles turn white as they held onto his hand and the knife with an iron grip. “Hey, what are you doin’?” Arlong asked, tugging at the knife like a sword stuck in stone. “Gimme my knife back. Stop it.” He was so distracted by the sudden show of defiance that he missed Luffy’s head rearing back until it was too late.

Luffy smashed his forehead into the bridge of Arlong’s nose, sending the man flailing backwards, holding his face as blood gushed from the shattered cartilage. “AH FUCK! MY FUCKING NOSE!” Arlong roared, unable to stop the flow. “YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

The boy didn’t waste a second, dashing in with a full-force blow to Arlong’s stomach. He punched through the iron this time, forcing the bigger man to double over in pain. The knife in his arm was slowing down his lefts, so he yanked it free and tossed it aside. Getting back his rhythm, Luffy shot out his fists, catching Arlong across the chin and pounding his knuckles into the man’s stomach. Aiming for every weak spot he could. Liver. Heart. Kidneys if he could get behind him.

For all the fighting lessons Luffy had learned in his younger years, the most pivotal came from his Uncle Shanks. Sometimes, when you were desperate or when the other guy deserved it, it was okay to fight dirty. Just as Arlong seemed to be regaining his senses and defending himself, the boy aimed a kick between his legs. Doubled over again from the nutshot, Luffy threw a punch into his throat.

Shaken and frantic, Arlong took a swing with a wild punch. Luffy ducked under it easily and came back up with an uppercut to his jaw. A few teeth went flying free, shattered from the impact. The vile man stumbled back, his eyes darting left and right, searching for a way to stop this crazy kid.

His fingers caught onto what could be his final salvation. Wrapping around the handle of his sledgehammer, his trusty tool once for construction, now for intimidation. He swung it in a wide arc, almost catching Luffy on his side. The boy just barely managed to dodge out of the way.

Arlong kept coming at him, hammer swinging this way and that. It kept Luffy on the back step but was too slow to actually land a hit. He was slowed by the damage he had taken, but not so much that he would get clocked by this glacial-paced weapon. But he couldn't let his guard down. If even a single hit got through, it was over.

Running on empty, Arlong realized that he was in a state of desperation. He tried to change things up to catch the boy off guard. Instead of swinging the hammer, he tried thrusting it into Luffy's midsection. This would be his final, fatal mistake.

Dodging to the side, Luffy grabbed the handle of the hammer just as it reached the apex of the thrust, yanking it free from Arlong's grasp. Spinning with the motion, he swung the hammer with all his might, keeping low and driving it straight into the vile man's kneecap.

Arlong screamed. With a loud crack, his bones snapped, and he fell to the ground. He clutched his leg, flat on his back. Sweat, blood, and tears flowed freely. He was finished. And they both knew it. Luffy was vaguely aware of a door opening behind him, but he paid it no mind. Whoever it was could watch.

Looming over his fallen foe, Luffy held the sledgehammer tight. As his shadow fell over Arlong, his eyes snapped up. He put his hands out, trying to shield himself from whatever the boy had in store. “Hey, don't do anything crazy,” he struggled to breathe, but still tried to laugh. Anything to defuse this situation gone horribly wrong.

“Look, I'll cut you a deal, yeah?” Arlong's eyes were wide, his remaining teeth clenched in pain and worry. “I'll cut you in on the profits. We can work together on this!” Luffy's gaze hardened. Arlong tried to sweeten the pot. “I'll give you priority over the other clients,” he offered. “I'll even let you pop her cherry! What do you say? We can make a lot of money together!”

Luffy gripped the handle so hard he felt wood cracking. Rage consumed him. He raised the hammer with a mighty roar, “NAMI'S NOT A THING YOU CAN SELL!!!”

He brought the hammer down hard. The heavy head crashed through Arlong's sternum, shattering his ribcage. He barely let out a whimper, his lungs probably taking some damage as well. He was done. It was over.

Planting the hammer into the floor, Luffy leaned against the handle, panting for breath. The sound of footsteps drew nearer from behind. Quiet. Timid. “Nami…” he didn't have to look behind him to know.

"Luffy..." she whispered. Tears began to form in her eyes. He did it. He actually did it.

“N- Nami…” came Arlong’s pained wheeze from the floor.

She spared him a glance. His chest was misshapen from where Luffy had landed the finishing blow. Blood trickled from his lips, from biting his tongue or organ damage; she wasn't getting close enough to figure out. Most of it had come from his nose, once proud and pointed, now crushed and hideous. His left leg was bent at a sickening angle. The sight of him should have turned her stomach.

But she only felt relief.

“Nami…” Luffy panted. “This place… He hurt you here?”

“Y- Yeah…” Why did she feel so ashamed? She might have thought he was pitying her until he held the sledgehammer out for her. Cautiously, she took it from his outstretched hand. It was heavy. Especially so in her injured hand.

Heavier steps brought her toward Arlong, laid out on the floor. His eyes widened as she approached, his broken body trying to wriggle away from her. But she stepped over him, passing him by to hoist the hammer by his coffee table.

Swinging it with a shout of rage, Nami smashed the hammer into Arlong’s obnoxiously big TV. Wrenching it from the crushed plastic, she spun around and slammed it through the center of his coffee table, splitting it in two. Arlong let out these pained little gasps with each object broken.

“All this money, for what?” Nami snarled. “So you can buy yourself a bunch of shitty little knickknacks?” She smashed a bookcase covered with little shark figurines. “All the people you've hurt, so you can fill your house with worthless garbage?!” His stereo was next on the list.

“These shitty records!” Hours of music shattered like glass. “These pretentious paintings!” One by one, they fell to the ground or had their canvas ripped through. “This stupid fucking shark!”

“Wait, that's a load-bearing shark!” Arlong managed to spit out, but it was too late. The sledgehammer drove through the hollow statue and split the support pillar at the base. At once, the house groaned, its center weakened. The rooms were small, but the house was tall. With all that weight centered in one spot, and that spot removed…

“Nice!” Luffy encouraged her with a big smile. “That feel good?”

“Yeah…” Nami panted. “That felt really good.”

Arlong groaned in pain as he desperately tried to pull himself from the floor. With his ribs and leg broken, he only had one good limb to get himself up with. And it wasn't up to the task. He flopped back down with a sharp grunt. “Th- The house is gonna come down,” he said through gritted teeth. “Nami, you- you gotta get me outta here!”

“Why would I do that?” she spat, her fingers still locked around his sledgehammer.

“B- Because we're family?” he tried, his eyes filled with pain and hope. Nami returned a look of disgust. “Fine! I'll give you whatever you want!” Arlong caved. “Just don't leave me here!”

The sledgehammer scraped across the hardwood floor as Nami strolled over to her fallen stepfather. Standing over him, she looked down at his broken body. She raised a finger, “You will stay away from me, my family, and my friends. I never want to see you again.”

“Okay, you got it,” Arlong winced. He knew he was in for a rough deal. He was the one who had imparted this girl with an insatiable desire for more. She wanted it all. And if he wanted to live, he would give it to her.

A second finger was lifted. “You will give back all the money you stole from me.”

He winced. “Fine. It's yours.”

The third finger. “You and everyone who works for you will turn yourselves in to the police. I want you all behind bars.”

“Fucking-!” he snapped before biting his tongue. “Fine.”

Nami smiled at him. The first earnest, genuine smile she had ever and would ever give him. “Then we have a deal. You give me all of that…” She knelt down, her face inches from his, her hair tickling his face.

“And I’ll give you the same chance you gave my mom.”

Arlong’s eyes widened; his face paled. He tried to snatch up Nami’s wrist, but she had already stepped back from him. She watched as he struggled, trying to stand. Trying to run. But he couldn't move. Not without her.

Nami watched the different emotions creep through his soul. Confusion. Rage. Despair. But one more than all the rest came last. One she didn't even know she had been dreaming of. One she wished to see with all her heart and had been gifted to her on a silver platter.

She looked into Arlong’s eyes, and she saw fear.

And that was enough. “Come on, Luffy,” she gestured toward a nearby window. “Let's go.”

“‘Kay.” He limped along after her. The toll from the fight was slowly catching up to him. A sudden crash echoed above. The building was collapsing from the top down. Sliding the window open, Nami pulled Luffy over, trying to stoop him down to push him through. But he pushed back. “Nami first,” he panted.

“Luffy, you are hurt,” Nami shoved him again. “I will be right behind you. Go!”

They struggled against each other, each trying to save the other as the crashing sounds grew louder and louder. Closer. Just as the collapse became imminent, Nami felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist. Luffy held her tight and leapt out the window, falling wood scraping the sole of his sneaker as they barely escaped the destruction.

They hit the ground hard. Luffy’s groan was drowned out by the collapsing house and subsequent dust cloud. Nami felt hands pulling her head down, keeping her protected. Safe. She buried her face into his chest, holding him just as tight as he held her. Debris fell around them, scratching their skin. But as the chaos relented, the deafening sound dissipated, one thing became clear.

They were still alive.

“Luffy?” Nami coughed, her mouth coated with dust. “Luffy, are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah…” he wheezed. “Totally…”

The dust around his arm was black. “Oh god, there’s so much blood…” Nami rolled him onto his back. He tried to push her off, but his arms weren’t working right.

“Is fiiiiine,” he slurred. “I jus’ landed on it. It wen’ splat!” His giggles trailed off as his pale head slumped to the side. Panicking, Nami yelped and slapped him. His eyes snapped open. “What? Huh? Where’s Arlong?!” He tried to sit up, but Nami shoved him back down.

“Hold still!” she snapped, pinning him down. Without any other options, she grabbed what was left of his shirt and split it down the middle. At once, a touch of color returned to Luffy’s face. As she ripped the cloth out from under him, she paused at the nervous look in his eyes, “What?”

“Um…” Luffy coughed and averted his gaze. The red in his cheeks got deeper. “My brothers said this is third date stuff…” His voice trailed off, mumbling a few more words. “...at least…”

“Oh my god, you are impossible!” Nami growled. She ripped his shirt into strips, winding them around his shoulder and tying them off tight. Her hands were trembling. “He could have killed you…” she whispered, her voice quiet and tight as she tied the last knot.

“But he didn’t,” Luffy smiled weakly at her. He reached up to wipe a tear from her face, but only smeared blood on her cheek. “It’ll all be okay now.”

“Not if I don’t get you out of here,” Nami grabbed his uninjured arm and pulled him to his feet. He struggled but managed to stay up, draped over her shoulders. “Come on, I know the way out,” she said. “We’re going to be okay.” She held the back of his hand with hers. “You saved me, and I’ll save you. Deal?”

Luffy let out a weak, little laugh. “Deal.”

************************************************

A person is not made out of flesh and blood. A person is not made out of mind and soul. A person is not made out of hopes and dreams.

A person is made out of moments.

Every experience we have. Every person we meet. Every choice we make, and every choice that is made for us. All come together to make us who we are. Change one event in your life, and you become a different person. The right person at the wrong time or the wrong person at the right time can change the course of history. Or give a future back to a girl who had hers stolen away.

Nami didn’t believe in karma. She had endured too much misery with nothing to show for it to have any faith in any mystical rebalancing of fate. Everything she had was earned through years of hard work and pain. But even she felt in her heart that if she hadn’t lived the life she had, if she hadn’t suffered for so long, if she hadn’t tried to escape that suffering, she would never have been able to save Luffy’s life.

One wrong turn in the maze of trailers that made up the park would have spelled certain doom. If she hadn’t learned to avoid trailer 57, even in times of crisis, the desperate tenant would have alerted Arlong’s men, who would have grabbed Luffy and made an example of him. If she hadn’t known of the dip by number 62, the thug looking down the lane would have seen her hair and raised the alarm. If Usopp hadn’t started that fire, more thugs would have been on that side of the park, and escape would have been impossible.

Every choice Nami had made in her life led her to this point. Luffy draped over her shoulder while she stood atop a steep hill. One that gave her a full view of the entirety of Arlong Trailer Park. She absorbed the scene, hoping… No. Knowing this would be the last time she ever saw this place. The place she had spent a year of her life in agony. A place for which she held no fond memories. A hell she would die before she ever revisited.

Arlong’s home had collapsed with the man himself inside it. Nami didn’t know if he was dead or not, but she didn’t care. He had gotten her message. If he died with it, good. If he had to live with it, better. Dust and debris still rained down from the sky, covering the trailer park with filth.

The fire that had engulfed Chew's trailer was almost completely out. Just embers flickered in the aftermath. Chew was probably dead, as he was inside when the fireball went off. Arlong’s men swarmed around the park like bees. Searching for the culprits of this crisis, she supposed. But none of that was important.

What she was looking for was a group of boys. One with black hair, one with green hair, and one blond. If they were hurt. If they were…

She wasn’t sure Luffy would be able to handle it.

…She wasn’t sure if she could handle it either.

Her eyes scanned over the field once more, her teeth digging into her lip as she desperately clung to the small hope that they were all still alive. Just as she was about to give up, she caught sight of a sheep shaking free from a clump of trees.

Merry rolled quietly down the dirt road, trying to avoid suspicion. Nami strained her eyes, trying to see if she could place all three of them. She saw dark hair behind the wheel. Green hair in the middle, pointing angrily. And blond hair leaning out the passenger side.

The instant Nami’s eyes crossed over Sanji, his head darted to the side. From nearly a half mile away, his eyes locked onto hers, as if he had some sort of woman radar system. She couldn’t make out anything on his face from that distance, but she saw him slap the side of the van. It peeled out, racing down the road in the opposite direction from her. Turning a corner just in time to avoid a line of cop cars barreling down the road.

Had they been looking for her and Luffy? No. Just Luffy. The others didn’t know she was there. But that was okay. They knew she and him were safe. It was time to go.

"Everything okay?" Luffy asked, his head hanging low.

"Yeah," Nami nodded. "I was just making sure your friends got out alright."

"Our friends," Luffy corrected her.

"Right." She smiled. She could feel his. Silence fell over them. “Luffy?” Nami asked. “Are you still with me?”

“Yeah…” Luffy sighed, patting her hand. Gently or weakly, she couldn’t tell.

“I’m taking you home, okay?” Nami started the long walk back to her house. “I need to get you cleaned up.”

“Okay…” She felt him press his cheek against hers. She leaned into the embrace, bringing a hand up to gently scratch her fingers through his hair. Her feelings toward this boy were complicated, to say the least. Confusing. …exciting. And now she had all the time in the world to actually think about them. Or to let herself get swept up in his current and join him for whatever ride he wanted to take her on.

Careful steps took them down the hill, where they would keep to the side roads back to her house. “Thanks, Nami…” Luffy mumbled.

"Stupid," yet a smile graced her lips. “What are you thanking me for?”

He shrugged and winced. “Everything?”

She patted him on the side. “Try not to think too much. You’ll hurt yourself again.”

“Okaaaay…”

Thanking her. This boy was too much. She would be thanking him every day for the rest of her life for all he’d done. It was odd, allowing herself to get this close to someone. Choosing to keep him in her life. Previous “friendships” had been filled with anxiety and regret. Remorse over what she would do to them.

But this time, it felt right.

Chapter Text

“Luffy, I can't wait any longer,” Nami's chocolate eyes held him in a trance. “Take your pants off already.”

“B- but Nami…” Luffy's voice was strained.

She shushed him. “No one else is here. It's just you and me. Now come on. Drop your pants.”

“I can do this myself, you know,” he pouted, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Not with your arm like that, you can't,” Nami crossed her arms. “Hurry up. I don't have all night. I'm exhausted.”

Luffy grumbled, stepping into her shower in just his boxers. He paused for a second, his fingers hovering at the waistband.

"Uh-uh," Nami was quick to shut that down. “Keep those on.”

“But they're gonna get weeet,” he whined. Nami held in a deep breath. He was acting like much more of a child than usual, but she knew it was because of the blood loss. She needed to get him cleaned up and resting, and the first step was washing the layers of blood and dirt off him.

“And I'm not looking at your little monkey tail while you do this,” she shot back.

“I'm not a baby!” Luffy frowned. “I can wash myself!”

“Oh yeah?” Nami smirked. “Raise your left arm.”

He did. Up to about a 95-degree angle. Trying to go past that, while he kept his face from twisting in pain, he couldn't stop the strained groan that billowed from his throat. He dropped it to his side, hanging limp. “First try.”

“Uh-huh,” Nami shook her head, unimpressed by his bravado. “Look, I'm not planning on touching you anywhere, so feel free to scrub yourself down. I'm just here to wash your hair for you.”

“Oh. Really?” Luffy's smile was small, but still there. “Cool.”

“Alright, sit down and brace yourself,” Nami warned him, waiting for him to sit on the edge of the tub before turning on the water.

“Ah!” he jumped. “Cold!”

“Stay put!” She shoved him down by his back and good shoulder. “Just give it a minute. It always takes a while to warm up.”

Luffy whined, but he did what he was told. While he waited, she handed him a washcloth and a bar of soap. Once the water was warm, he dunked his head under the shower stream and began scrubbing. Nami reached over for a box and scooped out a small amount of powder.

Turning his head, Luffy squinted as he watched her pour the powder into a squirter bottle. “What's that?” he asked.

“Shampoo,” Nami said, giving the bottle a shake.

Luffy stared at the box with a puzzled look on his face. “No, that says ‘baking powder’.”

“And it's way cheaper to mix my own stuff together than to buy products every other week,” Nami aimed the squirt bottle and sprayed it into Luffy's hair. "It's not super great for my hair, but I rinse it with some apple cider vinegar. And I steal the good conditioners from Target."

“What else is in there?” Luffy dipped his head, keeping the oncoming suds out of his eyes while he scrubbed under his arms.

“Just water. Sometimes I mix in chamomile when I'm feeling bougie,” she laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. He dropped the subject the instant her nails dragged across his scalp, his body loosening as he leaned into her. “That feel good?” she asked with a smirk.

“Ohhhh yeeeaaah…” He was practically purring. His arms still worked at his body, though only barely as he lazily scrubbed one of his thighs.

Parting his hair, Nami flinched when she saw a gash hiding beneath his bangs. “God, he messed you up bad, didn't he?"

“You should see the other guy,” Luffy laughed, puffing out his chest.

"I did," Nami affirmed, her expression clouded with a frown. “I'm talking about this.” She thumped him on the gash.

“Ow!” He jumped. He tried to pull away, but she went back to massaging his head, making him lean back into her. “That one?” he asked, his voice smoother. “Oh man, he bounced my head like a basketball for a bit there.”

“Jesus,” Nami slowed, making an effort to be gentler with him. “And you're sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, according to Chopper, I heal up super quick,” Luffy beamed, lifting his foot onto his knee to clean it. “He says it's really weird, and he wants to do tests on my blood. But I don't like needles, so he just whines.”

“Chopper…” Nami hummed the name. “That's the freshman you run around with?”

“Yup!” Luffy beamed at the thought of his little pal. “He's gonna be a doctor! He's always patching me up when I do stupid stuff.”

“So, all the time?” Nami giggled.

“Am I supposed to wear your clothes?” Luffy abruptly changed the subject. “Cause I don't think they'll fit.”

“No. Lucky for you, your messy ass left some clothes behind last... week…” she trailed off, eyes losing focus as she stared at the off-white tiles of the bathroom wall. Her voice was soft as she whispered, “Has it really only been a week?"

“Hm?” Luffy leaned back to look at her, her fingers still tangled in his hair.

“You've only been in my life for a week, and you've already changed it so much,” she leaned down, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. “Thank you, Luffy. I can't… I'll never be able to thank you enough.”

“You don't need to thank me. That's what friends are for…” he paused. “We are friends, right?”

“You really need to ask?” she huffed a laugh.

He prodded his fingers together. “You don't have to thank me anymore if you say we're friends…” his head was low, but he was clearly pouting.

Nami laughed again, louder this time. “You don't need to buy me off,” she patted him on the chest. “We're friends.”

Tension melted out of his shoulders. “Oh, good. 'Cause you said we weren't, and I got worried you meant it.”

“I mean it,” she smiled. “So, uh… I kind of owe you… everything. Is that really all you want from me?”

"Um… Well… If you're offering…” Luffy's face flushed, his eyes darted this way and that.

She smiled, placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles, “Tell me what you want.”

“Could you scratch my head again?” He was quiet. Nervous.

Nami chuckled softly, “Of course.” Her fingers made their way back to his scalp. She let her nails glide along the skin, feeling him relax again.

“A little to the right…” he sighed. Once she hit the spot, he melted. His body went slack, all his weight pressing against her. His head rolled, skin tingling from her touch. The washcloth fell from his grasp, landing among the swirling water.

He let out a moan that shot Nami straight in her core.

She swallowed. This was getting dangerous. This boy. Luffy. Not only her savior, but the boy who helped her save herself. The boy who put down the monster that had haunted her for a decade. The boy who was strong and brave and would risk his life for her.

And he was putty in her hands.

Nami had never felt power like this before. It was intoxicating. While her right hand worked its fingers across his scalp, her left went from stroking his hair to lightly trailing down his cheek. Her palm found purchase on his shoulder, avoiding the wound and gently gliding down to his chest.

His body trembled, his muscles tensing and loosening as he roiled in her hands. Soft moans echoed off the tiles, shuddering breaths escaping his lips. Nami's new position had her leaning over him. Her warm breath ghosted over the nape of his neck.

Luffy shot up, nearly slipping as he bolted from the tub. “I'm clean!” he shouted, scrambling for a towel and very deliberately facing away from her.

“Everything okay there?” Nami asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“All good!” Luffy was stiff as a board, more slapping himself with the towel than properly drying off.

Nami planted an elbow on the rim of the tub, resting her head on her hand. She watched his jerky movements, her eyes trailing lower and lower. Luffy's boxers were black with orange flames on them. And with how wet they were, plus something else that must have been stretching them forward, they clung to Luffy's gorgeous ass.

It looked… tighter than she had seen it before. Still round. Still bouncing as he moved. Maybe it was all the running around and fighting he had gotten up to that day. Nami had heard about guys doing push-ups and pumping their muscles minutes before taking photos. Maybe this was a full day's version of that.

Either way, Nami had herself a front-row seat to the bake-off.

She couldn't resist teasing him further. “Need a hand?” she asked, letting the question linger. Her voice was low, a whisper trailing between them.

He actually flinched. “No! I got it!” He set the towel back on its hook, only for it to fall straight to the floor the instant his hand pulled away. If he noticed, he didn't care, instead carefully bending down to pick up his discarded jeans.

Nami shot her foot out, planting her heel on the dust-covered denim and dragging it over to herself. Luffy froze, his hand still grasping for the empty space where his clothing once was. “I told you,” Nami said, her smile wide and wicked. “Your clothes are filthy. Go to my room and put on the others.”

Luffy squeaked, jumping back up to a standing position. Still facing away from her. “Uh… I, um…” he stammered. “Where are they?” His voice cracked.

“In my dresser,” Nami stood up as well. He flinched again at the sound. “Bottom drawer on the right.”

He bolted from the bathroom, scurrying down the hall. In the brief moment when he had no choice but to turn, Nami saw a protrusion stretching out the front of his boxers.

Looking down at her hands, Nami felt a surge of strength coursing through her. She had been in sexual situations before. But those were all distractions. Manipulation. Tools to get information or get herself out of a sticky situation. They were reactionary. Defense mechanisms. Every time, there was an undercurrent of fear. Any mistake she made could have quickly spiraled into violence.

But this time, with Luffy, she had never felt so in control.

A memory of sitting on his lap by a makeshift campfire resurfaced in Nami's mind. Draping herself over him wasn't enough to stimulate him. It seemed he needed a guiding hand to show him the way. “Good to know…” she smiled as she closed the bathroom door.

She stayed leaning against it once it clicked shut. Even just the day before, she would have been kicking herself for thinking something like that. That she was getting too close to him. That any feelings that had begun to bubble up, she should not let them remain. But she had also told herself that she would consider them more carefully once she had gotten through everything she needed to.

Now there she was, on the other side of that once insurmountable hurdle. She had all the time in the world to think things over. To let herself feel something good for once. She could go the easy route. Close herself off again. Or she could take the one less traveled by. The scary road. The one where she embraced those feelings wholeheartedly, come what may.

Nami slowly turned around, leaning her back against the door. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the warmth from her heart. Her smile was soft, and her soul felt light. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Whatever happens, happens.”

Stripping off her own blood-spattered clothes, Nami hopped in the shower herself. Her eyebrows twitched when she realized she had left the hot water running the entire time. She'd be paying for that eventually. For now, she needed to clean herself off, redo her bandages, and…

Her smile grew even wider. When was the last time she made a plan that had nothing to do with thievery? “Dating” Luffy, she supposed, but she couldn't complain. That was the single best decision she had ever made! She could make all sorts of plans now! She could do whatever she wanted!

She was free!

A choking laugh welled up from her chest. Her body felt so light, she thought she might collapse. Bracing herself against the wall, laughter rolling through her, tears streaming down with the water. She had never felt so good! This was incredible! This was freedom! And all it cost her

Was her father.

A sudden, intense pain constricted in Nami's chest. Her tears flowed more heavily. Her laughter turned to deep sobs. She had watched the man who practically raised her be shot down like a rabid dog. How could she ever think she could get away scot-free? Everything in her life came with a price. Reclaiming her own cost Genzo his.

She anchored herself with deep, steady breaths. She couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not when her sister still needed her.

Okay, new plan: Finish showering. Reapply the bandages on both her and Luffy. Take Luffy home. Go to the county lock-up or wherever they're holding Nojiko. Get her out. Start working on… funeral arrangements.

Clean, Nami shut the water off and slowly pulled herself out of the tub. She dried herself off and looked in the mirror. Her reflection stared back, and where once she found scorn and disgust, now she only saw pity. From her to her.

The red on her shoulder caught her eye. Normally, she would avoid looking at it, but it called to her. Screaming to be acknowledged. Slowly, she turned, letting herself take it in. To face the worst of herself. It…

It wasn't that bad.

The fresh stab wounds looked horrible, that much was for certain. But the old burn. The brand. She had always thought it was braised and hideous. A stain upon her skin, one she could never scrub away. It was the reason she put so much effort into her appearance despite her aversion to other people. Being cute, being beautiful, it made her forget the ugliness forced upon her.

But compared to the new wounds, the scar was barely noticeable. She could see it was there, the slight discoloration of her skin. But it wasn't raised up or stiff any longer. It wasn't a gnarled mess of flesh. Time had made it fade away. It would never be completely gone, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. And if she covered it up… it would be like it was never there.

Grabbing a bandage roll from the medicine cabinet, Nami wrapped her shoulder. She would never be comfortable leaving it visible. She would have to give the new wounds a little time to heal, but once they did, she could finally go and get a tattoo from…

Nami clenched her jaw, keeping herself focused. One thing at a time. Bandage self. Bandage Luffy. Take him home. Then go find Nojiko.

One thing at a time.

Wrapping her hand as well, the redhead pulled on the clothes she kept stashed in the bathroom. A pair of track pants and a simple button-up. Nothing fancy. Something to change into in case of emergency. And this emergency was that she and Luffy weren't close enough for her to change clothes while he was in the room.

Yet.

Taking the bandages with her, plus the rest of the first aid kit, Nami slipped into the kitchen, filling up a glass. She took her spoils with her, down the hall to her bedroom. She paused at the door, mentally preparing herself to walk in on Luffy sans pants. Again. Still, she knocked, “You dressed in there?”

“Yeah.”

Nami slipped through the door, giving a small nod to the fabric encasing Luffy's legs. In his haste to change during their photoshoot, he had tossed aside and left behind a pair of red sweatpants and a teal t-shirt. The sweats he wore, the shirt he held up curiously.

Nami let her eyes roam over his naked chest, allowing herself to admire him. He was lean, not overly built but clearly not as skinny as she once thought. His muscles were defined, with subtle ridges of his abdominals that she could see the soft outline of beneath his smooth, tanned skin. She let her gaze drift over the curve of his shoulders, the way his collarbone dipped down to his sternum, the faint traces of his ribs visible beneath the surface. He looked strong, capable, yet still somehow soft and gentle.

Luffy’s eyes darted to her from the shirt as she entered the room, his signature grin a little lopsided. “Nami, what did you do to my shirt?” he asked, raising it to show her. She had cut the bottom half off, turning it into a crop top. The sides had been sliced to ribbons and tied together, forcing it down a size to hug her smaller frame more nicely than his. “There’s barely anything there now…”

But Nami couldn’t hear him, too focused on the way his stomach flexed slightly as he twisted to face her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, feeling a sudden fluttering in her chest. What would it feel like to run her fingers over those abs? To feel the firmness of his muscles beneath her touch? She had already gotten a brief touch of his sturdy pecs. What if her hand drifted even lower…?

“Nami?” Luffy cocked his head, confused by her silence.

She shook her head, snapping herself back to attention. “Sorry, what?”

“What did you do to my shirt?” he repeated, this time with a laugh hiding behind his words.

"Oh, that," Nami replied, exhibiting no shame whatsoever. “I cut it down to fit me better. It’ll be way cuter on me.”

Luffy pursed his lips, looking from her to the shirt a few times. He stretched it out by the shoulders, holding it up in front of her. His eyebrows raised, “Oh yeah, you’re right.”

Smiling, Nami took the shirt from him, gave it a haphazard fold, and tossed it back in her drawer. Luffy stared at the dresser for a moment. “These are mine…” he said, his eyebrows knitting together as his brain tried to piece things together. “Why did you put them with your stuff?”

Nami twirled the roll of bandages around her fingers, looking at Luffy like he was stupid, “Free clothes, duh.” She held out the glass of orange juice, “Drink.”

“Ooh!” Luffy grinned and snatched it from her hand, downing the juice in one way too fast gulp. “Thanks! I was just getting thirsty!”

“Well, there'll be another one for you before we leave,” Nami took the empty glass from him, setting it on her side table.

“Really?” His eyes lit up at even just the thought of something to put in his mouth.

“Yeah, you need the sugar,” Nami said. "You lost a lot of blood tonight."

“Sugar gives you blood?” Luffy cocked his head. Nami nodded and hummed a yes. The boy sat there, his eyebrows furrowed as a pair of loose wires in his brain sparked together. “Is that why they call them blood oranges?”

“No.” Nami held up his arms. “Now hold still. Let me take a look at you.” Her initial inspection, or ogling, or eye-fucking, whatever you want to call it, went past the skin to be muscle-deep. Taking a more measured look at him showed just how much pain he had taken for her that day. He had a black eye, purple and swollen. The gash she had found in his hair poked down into his forehead. His chest was a mass of bruised flesh. His left shoulder had that sickeningly deep stab wound, while his entire right arm was scraped to hell and back.

She hadn't noticed anything on his back when she was checking him out earlier. Moving around to the side to confirm, Nami saw it was practically unharmed. Just one long bruise from his right shoulder halfway down his back. “Jesus, did he smash a chair over your back?” she asked, her fingers carefully tracing the line of purple.

“Nah,” Luffy laughed, his back twitching ever so slightly as she applied the tiniest amount of pressure. “He did toss me into a bookcase, though.”

Taking a breath, Nami began spooling the bandage around Luffy's shoulder. “It's still crazy how this stopped bleeding already.”

“Right? Chopper once diagnosticed me as ‘Hard to Kill.’” Luffy winced as she pulled the bandage tight. He held his other arm up so she could wrap the entire length of it, mid-bicep to wrist. “You don't need to do all this, I'll be fine.”

“I don't want it getting infected,” Nami grumbled as she stuck the last of the bandage to itself. “If you have another way of dealing with this stuff, you can do it tomorrow. For now, you're under my watch, so you're going to let me put myself at ease. Got it?”

“Yes…” Luffy pouted but leaned his head forward as she parted his hair. She grabbed a stick-on bandage from the first-aid kit and slapped it onto him. “Ow!” He laughed it off.

Giving him another once-over, Nami nodded, satisfied. “Alright, that's about as good as I'm going to get you,” she said, rising from the bed. “You good to walk? And… are you good going shirtless? You could borrow a jacket, but I doubt I have any that'll fit you.”

“Oh, I'm not staying the night?” Luffy asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

“No, Luffy,” Nami shook her head with a laugh. “I'm taking you home. So, get up already.”

“Nah, it's fine,” he gave her a nervous laugh while he cracked his neck. “You can just drop me off at Zoro's.” He paused for a second. “No, wait, Usopp's place is closer. I'll have to be quiet though, don't want to wake up his mom.”

“Luffy,” Nami pinched the bridge of her nose. “I am taking you home. It's three in the morning. Your parents have to be worried sick about you.”

The boy didn't respond. His uncharacteristic silence bothered her. His lips were tightly pinched together, and he wouldn't look at her. She tried to get in his face, but his eyes would never follow her. Grabbing his head, she forced him to meet her gaze. “Luffy-”

He was shaking.

Oh.

Her hands quickly fell from his face. He didn't turn away, but he couldn't meet her eyes. She let her fingers trail down, resting on his forearms. “Luffy…” She had to be careful about this. Tactful. Gentle. “Are you able to go home?”

A small shake of his head. Nearly imperceptible.

“Okay,” she whispered, giving his arms a quick squeeze before releasing them. “That's okay. You can stay here tonight.”

“Thanks.” His voice was small. Smaller than when his hat was damaged.

“I'm sorry,” she held his hands, feeling the tremble in them. He had made her feel better simply by holding her hand. She hoped she could do the same for him.

“S'okay.”

“Luffy, I…” Now wasn't the time for thinking. She scooted forward, wrapping her arms around him. He had done so much for her. The least she could do was provide him some comfort. She felt his arms slowly reach up to hold her back. She held his head, cradling him into her chest. Her chin nuzzled into his hair, being mindful of the gash hiding beneath his dark locks.

Gently stroking his back, she rocked back and forth. The way her mom used to. His arms hung loose around her waist. Nami had killed whatever good mood he had, and all she could do was try to get him through this. She opened her mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say.

The right ones fell out on their own, “If I'm not alone, that means you aren't either.”

He didn't say anything. But he hugged her tighter. And that was enough.

His hair tickled her neck as he looked up at her. She followed, losing herself in his dark pools of vulnerability. He glanced down. At her lips. She did the same. They looked soft. Full.

Inviting.

Her heart was racing. She slowly tilted her face down to his. Her eyes fluttered shut. His breath ghosted across her lips. And…

BANG BANG BANG BANG

Nami jumped so hard she flung herself from the bed. Luffy caught her hand at the last second, keeping her from tumbling onto the floor. The redhead whipped her head toward the noise. “Who the hell-”

“SPD!” came a muffled voice through the walls.

“Shit!” If Nami's heart was beating out of her chest before, it was going to full-on explode now. She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself.

“What do we do?” Luffy asked, his arm shaking as he tried to support himself on the injured one.

“You are going to stay here and keep quiet,” Nami shoved him down onto the bed. The knocking continued, echoing through the house.

Luffy tried to push back, “But-”

“No buts!” Nami hissed, keeping her voice low. “Let me handle this. I’ve been robbing people for years. I know how to keep the cops off my ass.”

He winced, both at his helplessness and the pain racking his body. “...I-”

“Luffy, they are looking for you,” Nami stressed. She grasped his hands tightly, her eyes filled with desperation. "Trust me."

“...Okay,” he gave in.

“Thank you.” Without thinking, she kissed his forehead.

“Wha-” he touched it, staring at his hand. When he looked up, she was already gone.

Nami took a breath by the front door, putting on her grumpiest face before she opened it. Glaring at the two men on her doorstep, she put some extra gravel into her voice, “It is three in the morning.”

“We saw the light was on and figured we wouldn't be disturbing you,” said the cop on the right. He was an older man, barrel-chested with a shock of short-cropped gray hair. He had a thick beard of the same color. His skin was ruddy, with wrinkles starting to show the age on his face. He was dressed in uniform, with much more aplomb than the typical officer. A badge at his lapel was adorned with a series of medals. Whoever this guy was, he was important. When he spoke, he had an accent that Nami couldn't place. Something South American.

By contrast, the man to his side was as unremarkable as you could get. Average build. Average height. Average face. Not someone Nami would ever be able to pick out of a lineup, let alone a crowd. The only thing of note, aside from his lack of a patrol jacket and the addition of suspenders to his dress shirt, was that he wore a fedora rather than a patrol cap.

“Well, you've disturbed me,” Nami grumbled. She eyed the larger man's badge again. Those eyes narrowed sharply. She took a step back, defensively. “Since when does a police captain make house calls?”

"Since the situation called for it,” the cop answered. “I am Captain Garp of the Seattle Police Department. This is Lieutenant Bogard." He gestured to the man on his right.

The unassuming man nodded at her, “Evening.”

“It is well past evening,” Nami huffed. “What do you want, and why couldn't it wait until morning?”

“Are you Nami Mikan?” asked Garp, jostling a manila folder under his arm.

“Yes,” Nami said with a frown. No point in denying her identity at her home address. “What is this about?”

“Are you at all aware of an incident involving your father that occurred mere hours ago?” Bogard’s eyes seemed to peer straight through her.

Nami's frown deepened. “Arlong is not my father.”

It was Garp's turn to frown. He flipped open the folder and thumbed through some papers. He opened his mouth to contradict her, but she snapped, “I don't care what any papers or judges or systems say! Arlong is not my father! The only involvement I have with him is living under his thumb!”

“I told you she would be uncooperative.” Nami hadn't seen him from behind Garp's sturdy frame. But as he stepped forward into the light, she saw it all. That wispy strap of a beard. Those beady little eyes. That condescending smirk. That-

“RAT BASTARD!!!” Nami shrieked as she lunged at the man who took her family away from her. Garp shot his arm out, catching her across her midsection as he held her back. Bogard's hand instinctively moved to his service pistol, though he kept it holstered. And Nezumi took a step back, pointing an accusatory finger at the raging girl.

“See! I told you she was a violent criminal!” he sneered. “She's nothing but a filthy thief!”

“You're the thief!” Nami screamed, arms flailing as she tried to fight her way past Garp's thick arm. “Give me back my money! Give me back my sister! GIVE ME BACK MY DAD!!!”

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Garp bellowed, planting a huge, meaty hand on the girl's stomach to push her back a good three feet.

"She's a criminal, is what's going on!" Nezumi yelled. “And you should arrest her immediately! You saw how violent she is!”

“What I saw was a girl upset to be bothered this late at night,” Garp whirled on the scrawny man, his imposing frame towering over him. Jabbing a finger into his chest, the older man barked, “She didn't get violent until she saw you.” He turned back to Nami, crossing his arms over his powerful chest. “So I repeat: What the hell is going on?”

Tears stung at her eyes, and she took a breath to keep from letting them fall. These cops weren't in Nezumi's pocket. They weren't in Arlong's pocket. They were willing to listen. She could get them on her side. All she had to do was play her cards right.

Do things in order. Escalate. “Sir,” her voice was gruff, her anger restrained. “Were you aware that earlier tonight, a civil servant,” she nodded in Nezumi's direction. “Lead a squad of police officers to rob a private citizen?”

Garp frowned, “No. I was not.” He turned back to Nezumi, looking for answers.

"Merely a case of asset forfeiture," he scoffed mockingly. “It's not my fault she can't follow the rules.” Garp's gaze remained fixed on him. Bogard had pulled out a notebook and was scribbling something in it. “What?” Nezumi balked at the pair. “Washington State bylaws clearly state that an individual receiving government assistance cannot have assets in excess of two thousand dollars. I don't make the rules!”

“We aren't on any assistance!” Nami snapped. “Arlong never signed off on it, and you shut it down when we tried to go behind his back!”

Garp turned back to her, “How much money are we talking about here?”

“Seven hundred thousand dollars.”

Garp's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Seven hun–” He whipped back to Nezumi in a flash. “Civil asset forfeiture of that magnitude needs authorization before any action can be taken! That needs to go across my desk!”

“Don't look at me!” Nezumi put up his hands. “I'm with CPS. Any SPD paperwork isn't my business.”

“Yes, you are with CPS…” Garp's eyes narrowed. “So what were you doing on a quote unquote ‘official’ police investigation?”

“The same thing I'm doing with you!” Nezumi kowtowed to the larger man. “Providing assistance with this unruly subject.”

“Mhmm,” Garp huffed a breath through his nose. “You're doing a great job of protecting this child, aren't you?”

“She's not a child anymore,” Nezumi said. “And it's not my fault if she ends up like this.”

“‘Not your fault,’ huh?” Garp nodded a few times. “Nothing ever seems to be your fault, does it?” Before the rat could argue on his own behalf again, Garp turned back to Nami. “You said he took your sister?”

“He had her arrested,” Nami struggled to keep herself calm. “I don't know where she is.”

Garp shifted his gaze back to Nezumi, but he had another excuse ready. “She was hindering the lawful actions of the police!” he exclaimed. “And it’s not like I’m the one who can make that call!”

“He said, ‘Would someone shut the sister up?’” Nami felt a heat rising in her chest. Rage, but also something else. Something new. Something she couldn't place. Not yet.

"They decided to interpret it in such a way that led to her arrest!" Nezumi leaned as if he was going to take another step back, but Garp's fierce gaze kept him locked in place. “That's not on me!”

The old cop was grinding his teeth. “You said he took your father?” he asked, his words strained. “They arrested him too?”

Nami felt bile rising in her throat. She choked it down to spit out, “They killed my dad.”

Garp's expression hardened. Nezumi stumbled over a series of excuses. “Why was I not notified of an officer discharging his weapon?” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Covering up for each other, I would assume,” Bogard's eyes glanced up from his notebook.

“They took his body away,” Nami's fists clenched at her sides. Her body trembled. “But the-” She choked back a sob. “The blood should still be back there.”

Garp nodded to his partner. Stepping inside, Bogard skillfully skirted around the grief-stricken girl. She heard the back door open and shut. Silence fell around the remaining three.

Nezumi cleared his throat. “I believe my services will no longer be required here. I'll go ahead and make my lea-”

The instant he tried to walk away, Garp's fist shot out, catching the rat by the tail of his coat. “You're not going anywhere,” came the police captain's gruff voice. He tugged hard, sending the scrawny man stumbling through the doorway. The old man must have had considerable control over the throw; Nezumi went flailing past Nami without a chance of even touching her.

Bogard returned shortly, a grave look in his eyes. Garp took a deep breath. The younger man raised an eyebrow. The older man nodded, “I'll just end up breaking some bones, and I don't need the paperwork right now.”

“Understood.” Bogard pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “Nezumi, I am placing you under arrest on suspicion of being an accessory to murder, fraud, and we'll throw impersonating a police officer in there for good measure.”

“WHAT?!” Nezumi shrieked, but the younger cop moved deceptively fast. The rat's arms were wrenched behind his back and cuffed together before he could react. “This is insane!” he thrashed in Bogard's grip, trying to free himself. “She's the criminal, not me!”

“Wait!” Nami cried, stopping all three men in their tracks. Garp eyed her suspiciously, while Bogard kept a firm grip on the stunned Nezumi. “This man tore my family apart. Please,” Nami took a step forward. “Can I have just one minute alone with him?”

Bogard sighed, his professionalism giving way to sympathy. “I understand, but we can-”

Garp silenced the younger cop by clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Bogard, have you seen this painting over here?” He directed the man to the opposing wall. “I simply can’t take my eyes off it.”

Bogard straightened his already rigid back. “I'm sorry, sir,” he said. “I cannot hear you. It appears my ears have stopped working.”

While the two policemen stared at the painting on the wall, Nami turned her gaze to the man in cuffs. He gave her a shaky smile. “We can work something out, right?” His only remaining move was to beg. “I've always done right by you and your fam-”

With every ounce of strength in her legs, Nami drove her foot into Nezumi's groin.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nami saw the two other men flinch, but they otherwise did not move. Nezumi's legs buckled, sending him to the ground. With his arms restrained, he landed hard. Nami planted a foot into his hip, forcing him onto his back. She crouched down, grabbing his ankles and hoisting his legs into the air.

When she spread them apart, she saw his dazed face awakening with recognition and quickly melt into terror. “WaitwaitwaitWAITWAIT!!!” he shrieked, but Nami had already brought her foot down. Again and again, she slammed her heel into the rat's balls, stomping a mudhole into his dick. His screams of fear turned into those of pain, which then turned into garbled, bubbling noise as his throat closed in on itself. The noises spilling from Nami's throat were equally inhuman; guttural grunts as she unleashed all her rage, all her pain, onto this miserable rat fuck.

She stopped when the only noises left were the dull thumps of her foot meeting flesh and her own ragged breaths. A hand fell on her shoulder, and she turned to see Bogard. The implacable man gave her a look that said, ‘Time's up.’ Nami looked down at the unconscious man on her floor and gave him one last stomp. She let his legs drop to the floor and backed away, leaving the policeman to do his job.

Bogard hoisted Nezumi to his feet, dragging his limp body out into the night. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will…” his voice trailed off as he disappeared into the shadows.

Nami moved to the remaining intruder in her house. She had dealt with two of the three, and in much better fashion than she would have ever expected. Now, she just had to get rid of the third before she aroused any suspicion on her own end.

Garp was where she had seen him last, still looking at the painting with a curious gaze. She cleared her throat, grabbing his attention. “So, what now?” she asked.

“Now,” Garp said, pulling that folder from under his arm and flipping through papers. “You tell me the details of your sister's arrest, and I'll do what I can to get her home.”

“I don't know what else there is to say,” Nami admitted. “Nezumi told them to get rid of her. One of them arrested her and said it was for resisting arrest." Garp shook his head with a frown.

"County jail, then," he said. His eyes glanced back to the painting for a moment. "They didn't leave me much of a paper trail to work with, so I hope you'll forgive my guesswork.”

"What if they didn't take her to jail?" Nami swallowed the lump in her throat. "What if they–"

"Let's try to stay optimistic here," Garp cut her off.

Nami frowned. "That's a little hard for me to do…"

"Your father," Garp grimaced. "Right. You said he wasn't Arlong. Then who?"

“My da-” Nami had to take a steadying breath. “Genzo. Genzo is my dad.”

Garp's eyes widened in surprise. “The neigh- Sheriff Genzo?” He whipped the folder back open, digging through the papers. “I knew something had happened to him, but I didn't know he was involved…” he mumbled to himself. The old cop looked back up to Nami, confusion in his eyes. “Genzo should be finishing up surgery right around now.”

“You mean the autopsy?” Nami asked, feeling confused and more than a little hurt by the cop's dismissal of her father's murder. “Why would they need to find a cause of death? He was shot. Case closed.”

"No, it’s surgery,” Garp insisted again. He pulled a phone from his pocket and gave it a few familiarly clumsy taps. “Yes, he just got put into his room in the ICU. Sounds like the surgery was a success." He slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked up sheepishly, “When a retired sheriff goes to the hospital, I'm going to request updates. Did-” He blinked.

Nami's face had gone pale. Her head was spinning. Garp's words had melted into a high-pitched whine. Her vision blurred before fading into nothingness. Her legs wobbled, but she caught herself on the wall before falling. Her heart raced, her breath came in quick gasps.

The first thing she felt once her senses fully returned was the tears burning her eyes. She darted forward, grabbing the lapels of Garp's coat with desperation. “He's alive?!” she sobbed.

“Easy!” The old cop held her shoulders, keeping the girl from collapsing into herself.

“I have-” Nami pulled away, racing for the door. “I have to go!” She whirled back around on Garp. "Which hospital is it?!" she demanded.

“I said, easy!” Garp yelled, trying to snap the girl to her senses.

“No!” Nami yanked a coat from the hanger with such force that something tore. “I have to go! My dad-”

“Is unconscious!” Garp yelled. “And not your father on paper!” He brandished the folder. “Visiting hours are long over, and no one at the hospital knows you're his daughter. If you go there, you'll just end up staying in the lobby until morning.”

“That's-”

“Not fine!” Garp interrupted her once more. He took a breath, letting the tension out of his arms. “Look, I can make the calls and get the hospital to let you in.” Nami's face lit up, but the old man put his hand up. “But, not until morning. The people I know won't be in until then.” The girl opened her mouth to protest, but the police captain kept barreling through. “Stay here and get some sleep. By the time you head over in the morning, I'll have everything sorted.”

“But…” Garp raised an eyebrow, the authority coming off him in waves. “...Nojiko.”

The old man's expression softened. "Is that your sister?" Nami nodded. “I'll head straight to County and get her out of there. I'll sit with her all night if I have to. You have my word.” He thrust a thumb at the window, towards the lights from his police cruiser. “I'm heading there anyway to take care of our rat problem.”

“O…okay,” Nami finally gave in, dropping her defiant head down. She really was exhausted. It had been an extremely long day. When she looked back up at the cop, she saw him staring at that painting yet again. “Do you want it?” She asked. “I could sell it to you. Could really use the money.” Her voice trailed off into mumbles at the end.

“Who…” Garp chewed on his words for a minute. “Who painted this?”

“My mom,” Nami's brow furrowed, confusion and concern hitting her in equal measure. “Why?”

“Your mother…” he finally tore his eyes away from it. “Was her name Belle-mère?”

The girl blinked. “You knew my mom?”

Garp's smile grew broader. “Knew her?!” He barked out a laugh. “I was her CO!”

“Really?” Nami asked.

“Oh, I haven't heard from her in ages!” Garp's grin could have blinded her. “What's she been up to this whole time?”

“She uh…” Nami grimaced. “She died.”

All the laughter, all the joy Garp had in him drained away. His hand found the wall, the one connecting to her bedroom, and his back followed. His head drooped, and Nami could hear quiet words falling from his lips, “I did it again.”

All at once, the powerful man looked his age. His skin was wrinkled, sagging from his flesh. His muscles looked too big for his frame, as if his bones would snap under their size. The weight of his regret crashed down on him, heavier than any physical burden he had ever lifted. The light was gone from his eyes.

Still, their attention shifted toward her. “I could have tried to stay in touch,” the old man opened himself up to the girl he had known for ten minutes. “But I let people slip away from me. People I care about. People I love. Gone without a word from me because I can't be bothered to pick up the phone.”

He gave her this sad little smile. “My own grandson. I…” His eyes twisted shut, and he slammed a fist into his thigh. “We always argued. He's a hothead, but he got it from me. One night was… It got bad. I grabbed him by the shirt and tossed him out into the street. Told him he could come back when he learned some respect.”

Garp opened his eyes, and he looked so tired. “I haven't seen him in two years.”

“I- I'm sorry,” Nami said, feeling sympathetic for the sad old man.

“It's my own fault,” Garp pushed himself off the wall. “And you don't need an old man laying his problems on your plate. You've got enough already.”

“That's true…” Nami tried to smile, but it came out a little crooked.

The old cop took a step toward the door, but paused. “Did Bell... Did your mother ever tell you how she found you and your sister?”

“Um, once or twice, I think?” Nami rubbed her arm uncomfortably. “But I was really little, so it's a bit hazy. Nojiko would remember better.”

Garp smiled wistfully, his eyes looking off into the distance as he dove into his memories. He crossed his arms as he began the tale, “We were stationed at NAVSTA Rota, in Spain. I told Sengoku I speak Portuguese, not Spanish, but he said, ‘Stop making up words to get out of work!’” Nami allowed herself to laugh. “Sergeant Major Belle-mère and I shared a strong rapport.” He nodded to the painting on the wall. “She took up painting in her downtime. Said it was-”

“Therapeutic,” Nami finished for him with a soft smile.

“Exactly!” Garp's smile got even bigger. “It's how I knew. Anyway, one day, while our ship was deployed, we came across a lifeboat bobbing along in open waters. We hopped down to recover it and found a sunburned little girl holding a bundled up, red-haired baby.” Nami's eyes widened, but she kept silent, letting the man continue.

“We searched around for a wreckage and found a passenger ship out of Sweden about two clicks away. What was left of it, anyway. There was a storm the night before, and with all the burnt lumber, we figured it got hit by lightning and went down.” Garp clenched his jaw in frustration. “Never sat right with me, not getting any answers on that one.”

“We did uncover a passenger manifest.” The old man's grin turned mercurial, “You ever been curious about your birth name?”

Nami blinked in surprise but crossed her arms with a frown. “No. My name is what my mother gave me. That's all that matters.”

Garp's roguish grin turned shit-eating, “Good! You were listed as ‘Infant!’” He belted out a laugh, his head thrown back. It was… familiar?

Weird.

“Bell took it on herself to take care of the two of you,” Garp fell back into the story. “She said something… clicked. That she knew she was supposed to watch over you girls.” Nami's lip began to quiver, emotion crashing over her. “The problem came when we got back to shore.”

The old man's grin dropped to a deep frown, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Command wanted nothing to do with a couple of brats. Told us to drop you two off in some Spanish orphanage and move on.”

“But Mom wouldn't let us go…” Nami felt a tear falling down her cheek.

“No, she did not,” Garp's mouth flattened into a line. “She went AWOL. Took the two of you and ran in the middle of the night. Her plan was good. She had safe passage out of the country. She just had to get off base. The only problem was when she bumped into her CO on the way out.” Nami watched the man warily, her eyes scanning him for any trace of malice. Despite the good he had done for her, she still had trust issues.

Garp glanced out the window, eyeing the squad car where his partner waited for him. “It turns out that,” he nodded towards the detainee with a soft smile. “Wasn't the first time I looked the other way for you.”

“Oh,” Nami saw the cop in a new light. A weird, familial sort of connection was forming. Tenuous, liable to snap at any second, but still there. “Thank you.”

Garp nodded a few times. He seemed hesitant to continue. But he had to ask, “How did…” He trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

“Arlong killed her,” Nami knew where he was going.

The old man stood up straight, his shoulders rigid. “This isn't a turn of phrase?” he asked, deadly serious.

“Hit and run,” the girl's eyes were losing focus as she tried to keep her brain from showing her the memories of that day.

“And you know this for sure?” Garp had taken a step toward her.

“His favorite way to punish me was to drive me around in the same truck and tell me the story of how he did it,” Nami had to take a shuddering breath to keep herself calm.

“Would you be willing to testify to that in court?” Garp asked, his eyes locked onto her.

“What?” Nami took a step back, a shot of fear coursing up her spine. “But it was a decade ago."

“There's no statute of limitations on murder,” Garp never blinked. “Would you be willing to testify that in court?”

“I…” Nami paled. She couldn't do that! Put herself out there for all of Arlong's thugs to… to silence her!

“You're scared. I get that,” Garp placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was heavy but comforting. “Too much, too fast. Sorry. Let's focus on one thing at a time. First your sister, then your father, then we can worry about building a case against Arlong. Deal?”

Nami felt her heart slow as the pressure came off. A little was still there, but she could breathe again. “Deal,” she smiled at the older man, extending her hand for him. His hand dwarfed hers in the shake. He made for the door, but something kept nagging at her.

“Um, about your grandson,” she said, chewing on her lip. Garp spun around, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes. She put up her hands, “I don't know where he is! Or who he is!” She protested. “But maybe I can help!”

The old man's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. He left the floor to her. “Does he have any siblings? Any around his age?”

“He's got a handful of brothers and sisters, yeah,” Garp grumbled.

“Why don't you try to go through one of them and let them know you want to talk?” she suggested.

“But-”

It was Nami's turn to cut him off. “Don't try and strong-arm your way in. Just tell one of them that you want to talk. They can relay the message and tell your grandson. If he wants to talk, he’ll pick up the phone. If he doesn't..." She shrugged. "Then you’ll at least get rid of all the ‘what ifs.’”

“That…” Garp had a quizzical look on his face. “That’s not a bad idea. I might just do that.” His face shifted once more, going from its soft reflection to authoritative. “Too much connecting tonight. Gotta maintain our images.” He pointed a finger at Nami, “You’re breaking curfew! Go to bed or I'm taking you in!”

“Get out of my house, you fucking pig!” Nami smiled as she yelled at the man. “ACAB!”

The two laughed together as Nami saw him out. There was something she liked about the old man. Something familiar that she couldn't quite place. He definitely had that grandfatherly energy to him. He halted just before stepping outside, “Oh, I nearly forgot.” He fished around in his coat for a small rectangle and handed it to her. “If Arlong or any of his men give you any trouble, give me a call. I'll come down and crack some skulls!”

“I can handle myself,” Nami scoffed, but took the card. “But I'll keep it in mind.” The police captain nodded at her and would have disappeared into the darkness if his loud-ass footsteps didn't broadcast his location all the way to the driver's seat.

Nami watched the police car until it pulled down the street. She wasn't unfamiliar with dealing with cops on a personal level. Her dad was a retired sheriff, after all. She knew that you needed to focus on the person, not the badge. The problem was, there were hardly any decent cops to write home about. Shutting the door and locking it tight, she flipped off the lights and made her way back to her room.

Only to immediately stub her toe on the coffee table.

A string of curse words rang through the room as Nami cradled her aching foot. “How the fuck did I hit the middle?” she grumbled to herself. Crouching down, her eyes widened at what she found.

A briefcase. Dropped during a moment of chaos and forgotten after a perceived tragedy. Snapping it open, Nami's breath caught as she saw all five thousand dollars still there. Untouched. Closing it, she held it to her chest. This was good. She had gotten a lot of wins that night, but it was still good to get another. She took it with her to her room. Slipping inside, she nearly dropped it at the sight of her guest for the evening.

Luffy was right where she had left him, laid out on her bed, his arms stretched out to either side. But his face was beet red, and he was straining against… something. The sight of her had him gasping with relief. “Oh good!” he wheezed. “You're okay!”

“Yeah,” Nami hesitantly laid the briefcase on her dresser. “Are you?”

“I heard yelling, but…” Luffy's face got red again, but for a new reason. “I can't move.”

“I told you I could handle myself,” Nami smirked.

“I know,” his grin turned sheepish. “I just got worried.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” she smiled at him. She gave his limp body a once-over, "The day finally caught up to you, did it?"

He chuckled, “I guess, yeah.”

The contrast of his bruised and bandaged body on her cutesy bed was pretty stark. His black and blue torso sank into her fluffy pink comforter. A pair of plushies, a happy bunny and a smiling heart, sat beneath his outstretched arms. His head was buried in her pillow, the sunflower emblazoned on the pillowcase stretched and warped around it. All in all, he looked absolutely adorable. What she wouldn't give to just dive into bed and snuggle up with him. But unfortunately…

Hang on.

“You can't move at all?” Nami placed a hand on her hip, subtly cocking it to the side.

“Haha, nope!” Luffy flailed a bit, but otherwise stayed in place.

“You, uh, you do realize that you're on my bed, right?” Nami leaned closer, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” Luffy was able to turn his head at an angle, like he always did when he was confused. “It was alright before, wasn't it?”

“That was when we were taking pictures, Luffy,” she guided him along to the answer. “I'm trying to go to sleep now.”

“Oh,” he thought for a moment. His eyes lit up. “Oh!”

“Now you see my problem,” Nami huffed, laughing.

“I can sleep on the floor!” Luffy tried to wriggle himself from the center of the bed, but even if he could move, he had sunk into the plush mattress. It would take considerable effort to remove himself now.

“Luffy, you got hurt really bad tonight,” Nami sighed. “I'm not making you sleep on the floor. Besides, I'm exhausted too. If I don't have the energy to drag you to the couch, I certainly don't have enough to kick you off my bed and keep you from hurting yourself worse when you hit the floor.”

Luffy stammered, “I can-”

Nami threw her hands up in faux resignation, “I guess we'll have to share.”

“Huh?” Luffy blinked at her, his mouth going dry. Nami had strategically turned her head so he couldn't see her smile. As she looked back, her eyes landed on the comforter, tightly pinned to the bed beneath him.

“It's a lot of weight, but I could probably manage…” she murmured.

“Weight?” Luffy asked. “Are you calling me fat?”

“You do eat like a pig,” she mused. “Check this out!” Gripping the ends of the comforter down by his feet, she gave a wave of her arms before yanking hard. The entire blanket came flying out from under Luffy, leaving him to slightly bounce on her mattress.

“Whoa!” He would have shot his arms up if he could. “That was so cool!”

“Thank you, I try,” Nami flapped the comforter again, letting it drape over Luffy's immovable frame. Standing by the side of the bed, she crossed her arms. “Alright, I need to change for bed.”

“‘Kay,” Luffy, unable to move, still didn't make much of an effort to look away.

Sighing, Nami rubbed the bridge of her nose. “If you peep while I'm changing, you owe me a thousand bucks.”

"Aw, you really do like me more!" Luffy was all smiles and giggles.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Nami frowned.

“Before, you would have threatened to scratch my eyes out!” Luffy laughed. “Now you're only charging me money! You want to keep me around!”

Damn him and his uncanny insight. Planting a hand on his cheek, she jerked his head to face away from her. “It's ten thousand now.”

“But I don't even have one!” Luffy panicked.

Nami patted him on the cheek, “Then don't peek.” She spun on her heel, moving to her dresser where she could keep an eye on him from her mirror. As she unbuttoned her blouse, a small thought crossed her mind.

‘Huh. I guess we are close enough.’

Removing the blouse, she tossed it aside into a hamper. Her bra went next. Even sharing a bed with a guy, there was no way in hell she was sleeping with an underwire on. Down went the track pants, leaving her in nothing but a comfortable and high-waisted pair of panties.

It was a fairly cheeky set, but she figured that if she got away with checking out his bare ass, she could provide him an opportunity to do the same. Mostly. But as she stood there, humming a wordless tune as she pretended to pick out some sleepwear, she kept an eye on his face in the mirror. But that courteous son of a bitch was actually listening to her for once and keeping his eyes locked on the opposite wall. She sighed and actually put on some clothes. There would be later opportunities.

Whatever happens, happens.

Now dressed in a comfortable pair of shorts and a probably too thin tank top to not be wearing a bra, Nami flicked off the light before sliding into bed next to Luffy. On her knees, she held up the comforter and frowned at him. “You're really right in the center, aren't you?”

“Sorry,” Luffy grimaced, or was he straining himself again? “I can kind of move my arms now…” He was able to make them limply flap, but not much else.

“Taking up all of my pillow, too,” Nami frowned. The mischief in her eyes would have betrayed her true feelings if Luffy wasn’t fretting so much. Scooching down next to him, she laid the comforter over both of them. "Guess I have to make you my pillow for tonight, huh?" His entire body jerked the moment she rested her head on his chest. Draping her arm over his stomach, she held onto him, feeling that warmth bloom from her heart. One of her legs found its way between his, tangling their limbs together.

He was so tense. She could feel his arm twitching. Grabbing it, she gently placed his hand on her hip. “I told you already,” she sighed, smiling. “Waist, hips, and shoulders are okay to touch.”

“But, uh…” She felt his chest roll as he swallowed. “What if I, um… When I’m asleep, if I accidentally…”

Her fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of his hand. “We can renegotiate the terms later,” she said. “As long as you don’t take advantage, I’ll give you blanket forgiveness on any accidents.”

She settled in against him, but jumped when something pressed into her thigh. “Luffy,” she said in a hushed tone. “Something’s poking me.”

“Huh?” Luffy tried to sit up, but Nami put more pressure on his chest to keep him lying down. Dexterous fingers slipped below his waist, slipping into his sweats and pulling out the offender.

“Put it on the table,” she said, handing him his phone. "It's going to bother me all night if I have to sleep on it."

"Sorry about that!" Luffy chuckled, putting it right where he was directed. Nami felt his hand find its way back to her hip, and she hummed softly.

The pair laid there, surrounded by darkness and silence. Though she was tired, her mind was laser-focused on the shaking hand holding her hip. Slowly, she felt it grow more comfortable, relaxing and resting on her more confidently. Calloused fingers began to explore her smooth skin, staying away from her shorts, but feeling around where her tank top had ridden up. The butterflies in her stomach flew into a frenzy when he softly caressed her tight tummy.

She bit her lip to stifle a whine when he pulled his hand away. She sighed when he placed it on her arm, goosebumps forming when he slowly trailed it upwards. Finding the bandage at her shoulder, he stopped. Carefully avoiding her own wounds, his fingers lightly brushed around them.

“Oh,” he said, a smile stretched across his sleepy face.

“What?” Nami asked, looking up at him.

He wiggled his shoulder at her, “We match!”

She laughed, pressing her forehead into his chest. “I guess we do.” They both had been stabbed in the same shoulder that night. Granted, they happened in two wildly different scenarios, but the fact remained that both of them had knives inside them in the same two-hour period.

Just as she was about to snuggle back up to him, she heard her name. "Nami?"

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Do you..." he murmured, clearly uneasy. Was he scared? “Do you want to stop pretending?”

“Pretending?” she asked.

“Yeah, our uh… Arrangement.” He had let go of her shoulder, his arm falling to where she couldn’t feel him.

“You learned the right word,” Nami giggled. She took a beat, giving him time to put his thoughts together.

“You kept saying that I’m not your boyfriend,” he sounded hurt. Like he had been holding something back for far too long. “Do you want to stop?”

“Luffy…” Nami felt horrible. She slid her other arm below his back, giving him a proper hug. “When I said those things… I was trying to hurt you.” She felt him tense. She drew him in closer, holding him more securely. “No, I… I was scared. I wanted to drive you away. To make you leave.” Pure warmth radiated from her heart. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

His arm slipped back around her waist. Pulling her closer to him. He didn’t say anything. He was still waiting on an answer. “I think, after everything we went through tonight,” Nami said, nuzzling her cheek against his chest as she settled in. “It would be much more suspicious if we broke up.”

She heard his carefree laugh as his body relaxed, “You do want to keep me around.”

She could have said something sarcastic. She could have deflected. Instead, she smiled as wide as him, "Yeah. I do."

His chest rose high as he took a deep breath and let out a satisfied sigh. She closed her eyes, ready to finally get some sleep. "Oh!" Luffy exclaimed, jolting himself back to awareness. "I almost forgot!"

“What?” Nami asked, her eyes drooping closed, unable to stay open for long.

She could feel how bright his smile was. "Happy birthday, Nami!"

She laughed softly, her fingers softly caressing his skin. "Thanks."

************************************************

Bzzt

Bzzt

Bzzt

Luffy’s eyes cracked open, his sleep disturbed by the rhythmic annoyance. Heavy-lidded eyes sought the source. His phone, sitting on Nami’s nightstand, buzzed away as messages poured in. He snatched it up, seeing what was so important.

There was a particular group chat that Luffy was a part of that only got activity in sporadic bursts. It was called “Where the Fuck is Luffy?” and it comprised his bandmates, his brothers, and whatever other friends knew either of those groups. Whenever Luffy went off the grid, be it because he got himself mixed up in some trouble or he saw a cool bug and wandered off, it was a useful tool for tracking him down.

It appeared that he had gone far too long without checking in, so everyone was getting worried about him. And everyone meant everyone. Text after text came rolling in, either denying that they had seen him or trying to figure out where he could have gone after the dust settled. And they would not stop. His phone buzzed and pulsed every few seconds, not as loud now that it was in his hand, but the light wasn’t helping him sleep any.

Nami stirred on his chest, and he gently stroked her hair. He felt her relax and go silent once again. Luffy didn’t want to wake her, so he needed everyone to shut up. But she was holding onto his arm, so he couldn’t text back very easily. And he wasn’t very good with his phone, so he couldn’t hold it up and type out a text at the same time.

All at once, the answer came to him. Opening up the camera, he held his phone above him and snapped a quick photo. His finger was to his lips, shushing everyone making so much noise. Nami was easily noticeable, nestled against him as she slept. Of course she was! He had to let everyone know they were trying to sleep! Satisfied with his great idea, Luffy sent the photo to the group chat and set his phone back down on the nightstand. He wrapped his arm back around Nami and found a new comfortable spot for his head on her pillow. He closed his eyes, ready to drift back to sleep.

BZZT BZZT BZZT

BZZT BZZT BZZT

BZZT BZZT BZZT

His phone was going crazy! The group chat must have been exploding for some reason. Those inconceivable jerks, they were trying to sleep! Luffy chucked his phone across the room, where it landed in Nami’s laundry hamper. The clothing around it muffled any further vibrations, and the sound died out.

Nami whined, the movement having shaken her, but not quite waking her up. "Sorry," Luffy breathed out. “Go back to sleep.” He wanted to tuck her in, but with her on top of him, he couldn’t really move. He settled for leaning down and planting a kiss on the top of her head. The sigh she gave melted his heart.

Luffy's eyelids fluttered closed, his breathing peaceful as he drifted off next to her. The gentle motion of his chest swayed her into a serene dreamscape. Their hearts beat in unison. The façade of their romance melted away as they indulged in blissful sleep, marking the beginning of many nights to come.

Chapter Text

The morning sun streamed past her curtains. Her eyebrows furrowed, but the lids stayed shut, the last remnants of slumber fading away. A single night's rest that felt like months. What a wonderful way to sleep.

It took her sleep-addled brain some time to recognize the shape that she was holding onto. It was firm but soft. Warm and inviting. Smooth yet rugged. Something that wrapped around her just as much as she wrapped around it. And the most comfortable thing she had ever pressed her body against.

Allowing herself to open her eyes, Nami took in the sight upon which she rested. Luffy was lean. Fit. Not large as to show off, but the body of someone who used it every day. Her hand trailed across his chest, feeling the softness of his skin. A few scars marred her path, but they were small. Harmless. More likely from falling off something than from being harmed.

Resting her chin on his sternum, she watched his sleeping face. Normally, he was so animated. When he would talk passionately about something: his music, his friends, some bug he found, his expression could change upwards of three times a second. But there, in her bed, he was peaceful. Serene.

Really, really, ridiculously good-looking.

God, that face of his was… How could a guy with a tight body like his be so damn cute? With his kissable lips, his adorable button nose, that scar that drew your attention straight to those gorgeous eyes of his, and… How were his eyelashes so long? Nami had to steal the good mascara from Sephora to have her lashes looking half as good!

Which is why she stole the really good mascara from Ulta.

Nordstrom’s security was too tight.

Right as she was grumbling over her failed shoplifting attempts, her cushion stirred. A low, rumbling sound vibrated from Luffy’s throat, the morning dragging him out of whatever sweet dream he had lost himself in. His eyes fluttered open, catching sight of a blurry mass of orange on his chest. He blinked the sleep away, wanting to rub them, but something kept his arms pinned down. A weight on one and a dull ache in the other. When his vision cleared, all his attention was focused on Nami’s beautiful face pressed against his chest, her chocolate eyes staring back at him.

His mouth spread in a dopey little smile, and her heart soared. That. That was what tied this gorgeous man together. He could be hot. He could be fit. He could have an ass she could bounce a quarter off of. But that smile told everyone for a mile around that he was the happiest person in the room. And the twinkling in his eye told whoever he was looking at that he was going to do everything he could to get them that silver medal. Because no matter how happy he made someone, he would be happier still for helping raise them up. That’s just the kind of person Luffy was.

But this smile, this sleepy yet joyful grin. That was only for her. As far as she knew or cared to think about, Nami was the only girl to ever be graced with this particular lovely face first thing in the morning. It made her feel special. She knew that she mattered to him. But this quiet moment was exactly what she needed after the night she had. And she knew that, as long as she stayed by his side, there would be many moments like this to come. It was why she fell for him, after all.

Hang on. Had she fallen for him?

Did she actually like him, or was she merely grateful to him for setting her free? The night before, she had decided that whatever happened would happen. But if this was all a way to pay him back… The thought alone put a weight in her stomach. If she wanted something with Luffy, it had to be real. It couldn’t be a thank you. It couldn’t be compensation. It couldn’t be-

He shifted beneath her, his arms pulling up as a tired, whiny yawn came straight from his chest. “Good morning,” he said, fingers gently trailing down her back.

Okay.

Damn.

Nami was down bad.

“Good morning,” she returned the greeting, her face abruptly shoved down to speak into his chest so she could cover the blush rapidly spreading across her cheeks.

“Whoa, hang on,” Luffy’s thumb caught her chin, forcing a tiny squeak from her. Tilting her head up to face him, he sat up slightly, leaning in closer to her face. Nami froze under his scrutiny, her eyes darting from one of his eyes to the other, watching him watching her.

His intense gaze finally gave way to a crinkling of his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “You have freckles?”

“Wha- Uh- Yeah?” Nami could feel her face heating up. “What about them?”

“How come I've never seen ‘em before?” Luffy's grin grew wider by the second.

“Because you've never seen me without makeup before?” Nami offered, an unwilling but not unwelcome smile crossing over her own face.

“You cover ‘em up?” He cocked his head in that confused puppy-dog way. “Why? Freckles are just beauty marks, right? So having a bunch of them means you're extra beautiful!” Nami's eyes widened, her mouth falling open. That was some sappy bullshit she'd expect from Sanji, not this lovable buffoon.

Seeing her expression, Luffy laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “One of my brothers has freckles,” he explained. “I think he was sensible about them. He was always defending girls when mean kids would pick on ‘em.”

“That was nice of him,” Nami rested her cheek on Luffy's chest, more than content to lie there and keep looking at him. He really was a beautiful man. Inside and out. From his messy bed head, hair spiked up in every direction, to his dark eyes, still heavy with sleep, to his broad shoulders, one still wrapped in a red bandage-

Red bandage?

“Luffy, get up!” Nami scrambled to her knees, shoving her cushion out of bed. “Move! You're going to get it all over my sheets!”

“Ow! What?!” Luffy cried, struggling against her, but it was a losing battle. He quickly found himself flopping onto the floor, bonking his head on the way down. “Nami! What gives?!”

“You're bleeding through your bandage!” Nami pointed at his shoulder before frantically tossing her covers aside, looking for any red stains. Thankfully, she found none. It must have only just gotten bad enough to be noticeable.

Luffy checked to see that she was correct. By pressing into the bandage and seeing his fingers come back red. “Oh.”

Nami sighed, palming her face. “Come on,” she said, shaking her head. “Back to the bathroom.”

There, she cleaned and redressed his wound. One stained washcloth, a set of fresh bandages, and a condescending pat to his cheek later, Luffy finally put a shirt on, a little periwinkle number with a pawprint emblazoned on the chest. It was the biggest one Nami had that wasn't completely oversized. And it fit that boy downright perfectly. Snug in all the right places.

“Okay, good enough for now,” Nami admired her work, catching his appreciative smile. “The doctors can fix it up if they need to. Let's get going.” 

“Doctors?” Luffy asked, scratching at his bandage. “What doctors?”

“I'm heading to the hospital anyway,” Nami said, smacking his hand off himself. “So you might as well come with.”

“No way! Nuh-uh!” He planted his feet, stubbornly shaking his head. “No hospital!”

“Luffy, come on,” Nami sighed. “You're still bleeding! You-”

“Nami! I can't afford a hospital!” Luffy crossed his arms, wincing slightly at the stretch this gave his shoulder. “Doctors are expensive!”

Right. Luffy didn't exactly have a stable home life. There was no way he was on his parents’ insurance. “Well, maybe we can-”

“Let's go to Chopper's!” Luffy's eyes lit up, his grin stretched wide.

“Chopper?” Nami asked. “Oh, right. That kid you hang out with.”

“Yup!” Luffy laughed. “He's gonna be a doctor! He's stitched me up plenty of times!”

“You do realize that's a bad thing, don't you?” Nami frowned, placing her hands on her hips.

“But he makes me better?” Luffy cocked his head.

Nami thumped his forehead. “I'm saying it's bad that you need stitches in the first place! Do you know how scared I was last night?! You could have died!” A hot wave of emotion crashed through her. Stinging tears formed in her eyes that were furiously blinked away.

“But I didn't.” Luffy said, and for once, he was taking things seriously. He took a step towards her. “Nami, I don't ever want to make you feel like that again. I'll try and do better.” He watched her for a moment, something squeezing within his chest. “Nami, are you-”

“I'm okay!” she assured him, wiping away the tears. “I'm… I just…” she sighed, low and weary. “I spent so long forcing myself not to care about others…” Her hands found their way to his cheeks, cupping his face. She looked into his eyes, her trembling lips curved into a smile. “Now that I do, it's hard to keep myself in check.”

Luffy's eyes were locked onto the small blush dusting her cheeks. Something came over him, his eyes fluttering low. Right as he began leaning in, she turned away, missing the action entirely.

“Where does this Chopper kid live, anyway?” Nami asked, making her way to the kitchen. Fumbling after her, Luffy pulled up the address on his GPS.

Giving it a quick look, Nami did some quicker math. “Alright, that's on the way to the hospital,” she said with a nod. “We'll stop by there, and then I'll head off by myself.

“You're gonna leave me behind?” he asked, his voice coming out a little strained.

“Yeah?” Nami kept her lips curved in a shaky smile. “I figured you'd rather go see your friends after everything that happened.”

Puffing out his chest, Luffy crossed his arms stubbornly. “Nami, I'm your boyfriend,” he said, missing the eyebrow raise that got him. “Shouldn't I meet your parents?”

“Okay…” They both knew their relationship wasn't real, but it still made her heart flutter to hear that. Everything would be fine, as long as he didn't introduce himself to her dad like that. Otherwise… “It's your funeral.”

Popping open the fridge, Nami pulled out a pitcher of orange juice. Perfectly chilled. She grabbed a single glass from a cabinet and filled it nearly to the brim. Luffy's eyes trailed after it, following its path in her hand, feeling the rumble in his empty tummy. “Is that…” he wiped a bit of drool from his chin. “That for me?”

“Nope!” Nami beamed and brought the glass to her lips, taking a deep, satisfying sip.

“Naaamiiii!” Luffy whined, recoiling as if he had been struck. “But I'm so-”

Without pulling the glass from her lips, Nami held the entire rest of the pitcher out for him. Luffy looked from it to her and back. She gave her eyebrows a quick raise and the juice a small shake. Snatching it from her hands, he overturned the pitcher, pouring every last drop down his gullet.

“Oh man, that's good,” Luffy licked his lips clean, glancing around the kitchen for a place to put the pitcher. Nami, who took the time to savor her juice, polished off her glass, and put both containers in the sink with a splash of water to wash them well enough for now.

“Where do you get that from?” Luffy asked, smacking his lips. Nami, bemused, raised an eyebrow and pointedly glanced out the window. He followed her gaze to the tangerine trees out back. “Oh! You make it yourself?”

“Obviously!” Nami laughed.

“Is that why it tastes so good?” he asked. “Cause it's not possessed?”

“Processed,” Nami corrected him with a sigh.

“That too!” He laughed, shining that impossibly bright grin at her. She couldn't help but smile back.

“Okay, let's get going,” she clapped her hands, bouncing on her feet.

“In your PJ's?” Luffy cocked his head.

Nami looked down, now remembering she was wearing only a loose pair of shorts and a way-too-tight tank top. One that had fallen a bit too low during the night and went uncorrected throughout the morning. Was that a bit of areola peeking out?

With a burning face, Nami sprinted to her bedroom, leaving Luffy's boisterous laughter behind her. He wasn't laughing at the wardrobe malfunction. He wasn't laughing at her embarrassment. She knew that. He was laughing at her for being silly and almost leaving the house in her sleepwear.

And if it was anything else, she was going to smack the shit out of him.

Luffy knocked on her door a few minutes later. “Are you done yet?” he asked through it. “Is this what everyone says about girls taking forever to get ready?”

“Luffy, could you open the door for a second?” he heard her call from within. Shrugging, he did as she asked. The moment his face came within view of her bedroom, a pillow flew into it at Mach 2.

He stumbled back, sputtering but otherwise unharmed. Hoisting the offending missile over his head, Luffy stomped into Nami's room, only to freeze in his tracks.

She sat on her bed, her loose, airy shorts discarded in favor of a pair of tight, jean shorts, frayed threads dangling from the personally trimmed legs. But what got Luffy's face burning and terror rising was what she wore up top.

Which was solely a bra.

Nami held up a pair of tops, looking over them mournfully. She glanced over to the doorway and huffed a small laugh. Luffy, his face beet red, had both hands over his eyes. “I didn't see anything!” he cried, trying to find the door without his hands. “Don't charge me! I’m broke!”

“Luffy, it’s fine,” she assured him. “You can look.”

Slowly parting his fingers, the boy allowed the light to enter his vision once more. And much to his heart's relief but also disappointment, Nami had draped one of her clothing options over her chest. “I um…” she said, letting loose a laugh full of bitterness and regret. “I can't decide what to wear.”

“Oh. Uh. Did you want help?” Luffy asked, though his hands hadn't fully dropped from his face.

“More or less,” Nami smiled sadly at him. “But first…” She clenched her jaw, fighting off the tremble threatening to slide up her spine. “Could you help me change my bandage?” Shen asked, angling her shoulder towards him.

“Uh, yeah. One sec,” Luffy bolted out of her room, only to return moments later from her bathroom, roll of bandages in hand. He approached her, his hands shaking, nerves and excitement warring within him.

She sat still while he pulled away the first edge of the bandage. And remembering how much of a pain it was to wrap herself up both times the night before, she stuck her arm out at her side, silently giving him permission to handle the entire ordeal.

He was so careful with her. Like he was terrified that one wrong move would end with him hurting her. Normally, Nami would hate being treated so delicately. Like she was made of glass and liable to shatter at the slightest provocation. She was tougher than that.

But from him? It felt nice. He knew she could take care of herself. He only wanted to help.

“What's wrong?” he asked, unwinding the bandage.

She tensed. Of course, he could see right through her. “It's just…” she swallowed a lump in her throat. “You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. You don't know what… What Arlong did to me.” Her voice trembled. “But you still did so much for me.”

“...Why?”

“Why not?” Luffy answered without a second thought. “He hurt you, so I beat him up. I don’t need to know anything else.”

“Do…” Nami hesitated. This was a big step. He trusted her enough to fight for her without knowing a thing about the problem. She had shown him that she trusted him enough to let him see her at her absolute worst. But trust wasn’t just about singular moments of faith, of believing in each other. It was about showing that consistently. About allowing yourself to be vulnerable with another person. Showing them your faults and knowing they will still be there for you. It was a lot like being in lov-

AHAHHAHAHAA, she's getting ahead of herself!

Nami steeled herself. There was vulnerability, and then there was tearing out your heart and laying it bare. But if anyone deserved to know who she was, down to her core, it was Luffy.

“Do you want to know?” she asked, unable to raise her head.

“Only if you want to tell me,” he answered, padding away some dried blood.

The silence hung heavy between them. His patience and her hesitance. The seconds ticked away, Luffy toiling over her arm. Nami mustering up the courage to let him in. She took a breath, and the words came tumbling out, “Arlong killed my mom.”

Luffy's hands froze for a fraction of a second before resuming their work and securing a fresh bandage to her arm. “He made me live with him. Adopted me. Tried to make me call him ‘Dad.’” She grimaced, her gut roiling as she forced herself to relive the horrid memories. “I tried to run away. So many times. But he always brought me back.”

She clenched her jaw to keep it from trembling. “One night, he got tired of it. Made sure that everyone would know that I belonged to him. That I was his property.” She twisted her shoulder, letting her old scar catch the light. “He held me down by the fireplace while he heated up a fire poker. He's obsessed with sharks, so of course, he has a poker shaped like one.”

Luffy’s fingers traced the outline of her burn scar. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't a complete idiot. Nami trusted that he knew what she meant.

But that wasn't what was important. She had never told anyone anything that had happened during her year away. Not even her sister or father. She had been returned to them so emaciated and broken down that they were more happy she was alive than anything. It's what allowed Arlong to get away with it for so long. No one ever reported his abuses or his crimes because everyone assumed he was too powerful to take down.

Luffy proved them all wrong in a single night.

“He…” Her voice shuddered. “He branded me. Like I was cattle. He burned his symbol into my skin. I was eight!” Hot tears burned in her eyes, spilling over and pouring down her cheeks. The words flowed freely, a decade of trauma and pain unsealed by one boy's kindness. “He beat me and stole from me and reminded me every day what he did to my mom! And if I stepped out of line, he would threaten the rest of my family!”

From above her, she heard Luffy's voice, rage and fury barely restrained, "Shoulda kicked his ass even harder..."

The night before, she had been too preoccupied with Luffy's brush with death, their escape from the trailer park, and ensuring his bandmates made it to safety to truly comprehend everything that had happened. She had her moment of catharsis in the shower, but that was interrupted by the false knowledge that her father was dead. She had never processed the nightmare she had lived through, nor had she come to terms with the fact that it was over. 

And it was all thanks to him.

“Luffy!” Nami bawled, throwing her arms around him. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She sobbed against him, burying her head into his shoulder. His big, rough hands held her close, one tangling its fingers through the back of her hair, the other gently stroking her bare back.

“I told you, Nami,” Luffy whispered into the top of her head, gently rocking her back and forth, just as she had done for him the night before. “We’re friends. You don't have to thank me for anything. I’d do it again a million times.”

That was why Nami wasn't making a move on him. Luffy was an open book and a terrible liar. And in the week she had known him, he hadn't expressed any sort of romantic interest toward her, aside from feigned boyfriend behaviors and standard teenage boy reactions to her being hot as fuck. She didn't know if he liked her like that. She didn't know if he could like anyone like that. And she would rather hold onto what they had right then in the moment than risk everything falling apart because she wanted to take things further than he did.

Relationships were tenuous, fragile things, and Nami only knew how to ruin them.

And so, she would cling to her new mantra: “Whatever happens, happens.” She would continue to express herself however she wanted. She would not hide her attraction to Luffy, but she would keep her feelings bottled up. Only until she knew for sure that they were reciprocated. Until then, she would have eyes only for him. And she refused to think about the alternative.

Nami was a realist. Pragmatic. She wasn't used to thinking with her emotions. She didn't expect that she was going to find someone else who made her feel this way, but there was always the possibility that he would.

Nami knew her reputation. What other people thought about her. That she was a bitch. A slut. A thief. She wasn't exactly the type of girl you take home to meet the parents. So her only move was to keep building the foundation. Make something solid between them, something real, so that even if she made a fool of herself by trying to steal his heart, then maybe they could still fall back on simple friendship.

For now, Nami gave Luffy a small push, letting him know she was okay now. He released his hold on her, but she didn't pull away. Not entirely. She shifted her position, sliding down from his shoulder to rest her forehead against his chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.

She heard a small, irritated whine through his chest. “Nami!” he huffed. “I told you-”

“That wasn't for yesterday,” she cut in. “That was for right now. Thank you. I… I needed that.”

“You're welcome,” he said softly. One of his hands had moved to her uninjured shoulder. The other lightly rubbed her upper arm, keeping well clear of the wounds still lingering there.

Nami closed her eyes. His touch felt good. She had sort of given him a massage the night before, on his scalp at least. She could probably manage to get him to return the favor. Even if he wasn't any good at it, she knew she would enjoy the feeling of his hands on her at the very least.

When she felt her face heating up, she decided to pull away. Only to see his face reddened as well. “You okay?” she asked with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, I, uh, you…” Luffy stammered, twisting his head in any direction but towards her. “B- boobs.”

A quick glance down at her half-naked chest had her chuckling. “Well, you offered to help,” she reminded him. “What do you think I should wear?” She raised her bandaged shoulder for emphasis. “I’ve spent so long hiding this that I don't know what to do.”

Luffy thought for a moment, a rarity in and of itself. His eyes were trained on the wall to his side, as if her breasts were the sun itself and would burn his eyes out if he looked at them in the slightest. “Did you hide it cause you didn't like it, or cause you were scared of what other people would think about it?”

“I, uh…” Nami hummed out a small mix of a laugh and a sigh. “I work hard to make sure I look good because I know how ugly it is.”

“Mmm…” Luffy nodded. “Condensation.”

“Compensating,” Nami laughed.

“Do you care what anyone else thinks of you?” he asked.

“I wouldn't be stealing from them if I did,” she smirked.

“Then why do you dress like it?”

Nami’s mouth opened to retort, but nothing came out. This simple, wonderful boy was right. What the hell was she doing, dressing like she was expected to? She was hot, she had tons of stolen fashion items, and she was tired of hiding.

Hopping to her feet, a motion that had Luffy nearly breaking his neck to avoid staring at the jiggle, Nami marched over to her closet. It took her seconds to put an outfit together in her mind. Without going outside, she knew it was going to be a hot one today, hence the cut-off jeans. Throwing on a tight tank top, she slipped a loose-fitting, sleeveless tee over top of that. The shoulder of which slipped down to nicely cover up her bandage.

“In case I get self-conscious,” she explained to Luffy, who had his head trained on the ceiling. Craning his neck down, he grew a wide smile at the sight of her. “What?” she asked when he didn't say anything, feeling her cheeks begin to warm under his gaze.

“You look like Nami,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Something squeezed tight in her chest at that. She understood what he meant. She finally looked like herself. Not the girl who shoved people away. Not the girl who broke into people's houses. Not the girl who suffered in silence for so long.

She looked like Nami. There were no more walls to hide behind. She was herself, pure and simple. It might take her some time to fully learn who Nami was, but as long as he was by her side, she could take as much time as she needed to figure herself out.

Extending a hand, Nami coyly asked, “Shall we go?” He took it with a grin, lacing their fingers together like it was nothing. The pair stepped through the front door, out into the sunlight. Ready to take on whatever challenges came their way.

And boy was Nami in for a doozy of one later that day!