Chapter Text
A lovely June morning found two people sailing towards their destination in a small dinghy as the sun shone brightly. Nami, shielding her eyes with one hand, let out a long, suffering sigh that seemed to hang heavy in the bright air.
“Seriously,” she muttered, her voice edged with disbelief, “we could have chosen any boat, something sturdy, something reliable. But no, you just had to pick this... this glorified bathtub. Sometimes, Luffy, I honestly wonder where your common sense goes.”
A burst of carefree laughter answered her complaint. Luffy, perched at the front of the dinghy, turned around, his wide grin splitting his face under the sun. “It’s way more fun this way, Nami!” he declared, his eyes practically sparkling with mischief and excitement. He pointed ahead, towards a disturbance on the otherwise calm water. “Look! A whirlpool! We’re heading straight for it!” His beam widened impossibly, his eyes glimmering with the thrill of impending chaos, completely oblivious to the danger.
Nami’s frustration, simmering since they’d set sail in the 'dinghy of questionable integrity,' boiled over. Her eyes widened in disbelief and rage, teeth bared in a not-so-friendly grimace as she lunged forward and delivered a sharp, practiced smack to the back of Luffy’s head.
“A whirlpool? We’re heading into a whirlpool, and you think this is funny?!” she shrieked, clutching her aching palm.
His only response was a louder, more unrestrained peal of laughter that echoed over the water as the small boat, seemingly drawn by an invisible force, plunged headfirst into the swirling vortex. The world tilted precariously.
Still chuckling, despite the boat being tossed about like a toy, Luffy somehow managed to wrestle open the lids of two large, sturdy wooden barrels that had been stowed in the dinghy. With a long-suffering groan, resignation etched deep on her face, Nami didn't hesitate. She scrambled into one barrel and immediately pulled the lid shut from inside, the darkness enveloping her.
She could still faintly hear his boisterous laughter, slightly muffled by the wood, as he climbed into his barrel, and she shook her head, reflecting on how much her life had transformed since meeting Luffy. She didn't enjoy dwelling on what-ifs and potential outcomes, but she likely wouldn’t have survived much longer without him.
The barrels, now sealed capsules against the churning water, were violently drawn deeper into the whirlpool. The spinning intensified, making her dizzy and disoriented within the suffocating darkness. Through clenched teeth, she mentally – and maybe even audibly – cursed Luffy to the deepest pits of whatever watery hell awaited them, before the violent motion finally overwhelmed her senses, and everything faded mercifully to black.
When consciousness trickled back, it was slow and disorienting. The first sensation was the gritty unevenness of sand grating against her cheek. She was sprawled unceremoniously on her side, the faint sound of lapping waves reaching her ears. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, brushing sand from her clothes, Nami blinked rapidly, scanning the deserted stretch of beach. A cold knot of pure panic twisted in her gut. Her barrel lay beside her, intact but solitary. There was no sign of the other barrel. No sign of him.
A surge of adrenaline propelled her forward. Ignoring the stitch in her side, she sprinted down the shoreline, her voice hoarse as she screamed Luffy’s name alongside a string of creative, highly unladylike curses directed at his general existence and poor life choices. Breathless, her lungs burning, she finally stumbled to a halt. Her frantic gaze fell upon the looming, dark shape of a dense, ominous-looking forest bordering the beach. Her left eye twitched involuntarily. “What am I thinking?” she muttered to herself, running a trembling hand through her damp hair. “It’s Luffy, for god’s sake. He’s always getting into trouble. He’ll be fine. Probably already found food or picked a fight with a bear.” She scoffed, trying to inject some confidence into her tone, though her heart still pounded nervously. “What a fool I am, worrying.”
A sudden, horrific thought struck her. “For his sake, I really hope there aren’t any bugs... in... that... forest….”
She shivered at the thought of those little creatures getting too close, and, steeling herself with a deep, shuddering breath, squared her shoulders and strode determinedly into the shadowed depths of the forest.
Meanwhile, on the complete opposite side of the island, having washed ashore with considerably less drama (and perhaps, Nami would argue, less common sense), Luffy had already dashed headfirst into the dense woodland. Oblivious to potential dangers like venomous snakes or territorial beasts, he plunged deeper, batting away low-hanging branches and pushing through thick brambles with careless ease, his infectious laughter occasionally echoing through the trees. His carefree advance, however, was abruptly halted.
Standing directly in his path, partially hidden by the foliage but unmistakably holding a firearm directed shakily at him, was a young woman. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear, and her hands trembled visibly around the pistol grip.
"Don't... don't come any closer!" she stammered, her voice barely a strained whisper, fear radiating from her in palpable waves.
A familiar, almost melodic "Shishishishishi," chuckled Luffy, completely unfazed by the weapon pointed at him. He took another step forward. "Go ahead," he said, his voice light and confident. "That won't work on me."
Her nerves, already frayed to the absolute breaking point by whatever ordeal she had endured, snapped. Her eyes squeezed shut, and with a strangled whimper, the woman squeezed the trigger.
The distant, sharp crack of a gunshot reached Nami’s ears through the rustling leaves. She froze for a fraction of a second, a wave of resigned exasperation flooding over her. A long, tired sigh escaped her lips. "Luffy," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with absolute certainty and a hint of long-suffering affection. Then, the worry surged, overriding her annoyance. Abandoning all caution, she broke into a dead run towards the direction of the sound.
She arrived moments later, bursting into a small, overgrown clearing, breathless and leaning against a tree for support. The scene before her was classic Luffy chaos. He was standing there, laughing as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, while the woman, utterly shell-shocked, was clutching a smoking pistol, her face a mask of disbelief and terror. “Luffy, what have you done?!” Nami’s sharp, accusatory cry ripped through the tense air, startling the woman further.
In her panicked state, the woman reacted instinctively, wildly swinging the still-smoking weapon between Nami and Luffy, her eyes darting between them. As Luffy, ever straightforward and unconcerned, took another step forward, the woman's fragile composure shattered completely. She dissolved into ragged tears, her pleas tumbling out in a rush of desperate words for her life—or rather, she sobbed, for their lives.
“Their?” Both Nami and Luffy echoed the word simultaneously, a shared moment of confusion cutting through the tension. Their heads tilted, brows furrowed.
The brunette woman instantly clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening further as she realized she had blurted out something she hadn’t meant to reveal.
The laughter died completely on Luffy’s face. The playful glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, startlingly intense seriousness. His expression hardened, the carefree boy replaced by someone focused and determined. "Nami," he said, his voice low and firm, "we need to help whoever she is protecting."
"Why?" Nami questioned, bewildered by the abrupt and drastic shift in his demeanor. One moment he was laughing at a gunshot, the next he was commanding an altruistic rescue.
"If she is desperate enough to try and fight... in her state..." Luffy didn't need to finish the sentence. The implication hung heavy in the air. Nami, despite her initial irritation, understood instantly. Someone else was in grave danger, likely unable to defend themselves if the woman was their only, terrified protector.
"You stay with her," Luffy commanded, his gaze fixed on the deeper forest. "I'm going to find the other person.” Without another word, without waiting for confirmation or argument, he turned and melted effortlessly into the dense, shadowed depths of the forest, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.
As he ran deeper into the forest, following a path that was barely visible and praying he was headed in the right direction, thoughts of who could have done such a thing raced through his mind.
Then he burst out into a clearing and saw two tents barely holding together. He heard ragged breathing from one tent and dashed in its direction, skidding in front of it before coming to a complete stop at the entrance, shocked speechless by what he saw.
Zoro was floating. Or was he? He could feel pressure on the back of his knees. Was he still tied to that stake? Had all of that just been a dream? One gray eye flickered open, then quickly closed again against the intrusive light, but it was enough. Green…. Shells Town wasn’t that green. Not a dream then…. Shells Town wasn’t that green. Not a dream then, not the stake. Shells Town had been a brutal palette of arid brown earth, harsh yellow dust swirling in the wind, cracked gray concrete, and the sterile, blinding white of the Marine base walls. But what happened? Where was he?
He lost track of time until his back hit the ground. Pain. It exploded through him in a blinding flash of white, burning hot and consuming every nerve ending, every muscle fiber, every bone in his body. It wasn't just pain; it was a searing, all-encompassing agony that ripped a raw, guttural scream from his lungs, a sound that felt foreign and terrifying. The scream pierced the air, a solitary cacophony of anguish lost instantly in a sudden, horrifying flood of crimson. Blood, thick and viscous, surged around him, staining the rough, dark surfaces of rocks beneath him with a sickening, metallic scent.
He awoke again, this time keeping his eyes shut, the sounds of seagulls and waves lapping against wood slowly filtering into his awareness. Wait. Rewind. Seagulls and waves? Something wasn’t right. He sat up, the movement eliciting a fresh wave of agonizing pain. It contorted his spine, forcing a sharp gasp and making tears sting at the corners of his eyes despite his best efforts to suppress them. A choked groan, barely more than a stifled breath of pain, betrayed his awakening. Instantly, the familiar, soft weight of light footsteps was by his side. Ririka. She was here. He felt her arms wrap around him, her embrace surprisingly strong, holding him tight. Despite its comforting intent, the sudden pressure sent a searing jolt through what felt like fractured ribs, igniting a firestorm of agony beneath his skin. Her happy tears, warm and wet against his neck, mingled with his silent, internal screaming. The moment she finally let go, he slumped back down onto the boat's rough, wooden floor, his body trembling, heaving with a dry, painful nausea.
A few minutes crawled by, marked by the quiet sounds of the sea and Ririka's hushed, anxious presence beside him. He finally managed to catch his breath, the worst of the nausea subsiding just enough for him to attempt sitting upright more carefully this time, bracing himself with a hand against the boat's side. His right hand instinctively rose to his throbbing head, fingers pressing gently against a tender ache near his temple. Double vision blurred his sight, making the world swim in overlapping, distorted lines. He could still feel bile creeping relentlessly up his throat, leaving a bitter taste. The rhythmic sounds of the waves and gulls seemed muffled, coming from a distance, like he was underwater. Yet, through the shifting, hazy distortion, he saw Ririka's face, etched with worry and relief. He forced himself to mask his distress, managing a weak approximation of a laugh in response to her quiet, anxious inquiries about how he felt. His voice, when it came, was a hoarse, broken croak. "What… happened?" The effort was too much, and he immediately dissolved into a wracking, painful coughing fit that vibrated through his injured chest.
Once the spasm of coughing finally subsided, leaving his throat raw and burning, Ririka, visibly relieved he was lucid, launched into a detailed account of their rescue. Her voice, though soft, held a note of wonder and excitement as she described the unexpected arrival of their two saviors, two pirates who had found them barely alive on the rocks near the shore. She spoke of their unbelievable kindness, their generosity, and then, the part that made her eyes wide with a mix of awe and apprehension – their offer. Not just rescue, but an invitation to join their crew, a place aboard their ship. A sudden, strangled gasp escaped his lips. The full weight of their predicament crashed down upon him: their bounties were now public knowledge, effectively ending his career as a bounty hunter and hers as a barmaid. Their options were drastically reduced; in fact, this was their only option.
He sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he was now stuck with those three for the foreseeable future.