Chapter 18
The party was still going, but it had shifted into that late-night rhythm—slower, softer, more intimate. The bonfire had burned down to glowing embers. The wild dancing had faded into quiet conversations and shared stories. Empty sake bottles rolled across the dirt, and half the village kids had passed out on their parents' laps.
Luffy was still eating, of course. But even he had slowed down. He sat cross-legged by the fire, methodically working through a pile of meat with that satisfied grin only he could wear.
"We set sail tomorrow!" he announced suddenly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"WHAT?!" Sanji nearly choked on his cigarette.
"Tomorrow?! Captain, we don't even have supplies! No food, no water, no—"
"Already taken care of!" Genzo called from across the fire, holding up a piece of paper.
"The village council met while you were beating up those Marines. We're loading your ship with everything—food, water, medicine, navigation tools, the works."
"You don't have to do that," Nami said, voice warm but surprised.
"Don't have to?" An old woman laughed.
"You saved our lives! It's the least we can do."
"Plus," another villager added,
"We've got eight years of hidden supplies we couldn't touch while Arlong was bleeding us dry. Might as well put them to good use."
Nami shook her head, smiling.
"Thank you, everyone."
---
In the corner, Zoro had claimed a spot against a wall and was already snoring, surrounded by a fortress of empty sake bottles. His swords lay across his lap, and even in sleep, his hand rested on the hilts.
"Monster," someone muttered.
"He drank half the village dry," another replied.
"That's not just a monster. That's a sea king."
---
Silas had finally started eating. He'd found a quiet spot on the steps, away from the crowd. Red hair caught the dying firelight as he worked through grilled fish and meat. His eyes kept scanning the harbor. Old habits.
What a few days it had been. From the Baratie to Arlong Park. Don Krieg's men. That four-gun fishman. Corrupt Marines. His flintlock felt lighter—maybe six bullets left.
Good thing he'd stashed his gunsmithing gear in the secret compartment on his ship. Lead, powder, brass casings, molds—all tucked away. Paranoia had kept him alive this long.
Making bullets was a pain. Melt the lead. Pour it right. Measure the powder. One mistake and boom—no more fingers. Still, better than running dry mid-fight.
---
But it was Nami who caught everyone's attention.
She kept glancing at Usopp, still surrounded by kids demanding more stories. Her face had that look—when someone's working up the courage to do something hard.
Finally, she stood and walked over.
"Hey, Usopp," she said quietly.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
The kids groaned, but Usopp shooed them away with promises of more stories later. He followed Nami to a quiet spot near the harbor.
"What's up, Nami? You look serious."
She took a breath, like diving underwater.
"I need to apologize. For… everything. All the stuff I did when I was with Arlong."
Usopp blinked.
"Huh? What stuff?"
"The Going Merry," she said, voice small.
"I took her. And… I sold some of your things to get money for the tribute. Your tools, slingshot supplies…" Her voice cracked.
"I'm so sorry, Usopp. I know how much that ship means to you, and I just—"
"Nami."
She stopped. Looked up. Tears starting to form.
Usopp was grinning. Not his usual fake-brave grin. Something real.
"It's fine. Really."
"But—"
"Nami," he said again, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You were trying to save your village. Your family. If taking the Merry and my stuff helped with that, then I'm glad you did it."
"You… you're not mad?"
"Mad? Are you crazy?" Usopp laughed.
"You're the bravest person I know. Eight years, Nami. Eight years of doing whatever it took to protect the people you love. That's not something to apologize for. That's something to be proud of."
The tears came then. But they were good tears. Relief. Gratitude. The kind that come after carrying a weight too long.
"Besides," Usopp added with a wink,
"The Merry's back where she belongs. And tools can be replaced. Nakama can't."
---
Back at the fire, Luffy was still planning.
"And what else do ships need?" he wondered aloud.
"A navigator," Sanji said dryly.
"Which we now have."
"A doctor would be nice," Sanji added.
"And a musician!" Luffy's eyes lit up.
"Every pirate crew needs a musician!"
"One thing at a time, Luffy," Nami said as she and Usopp rejoined the group. She looked lighter. Like a shadow had lifted.
Silas finished his plate and leaned back, watching his new crewmates plan their future. These people were insane. A rubber captain who thought with his stomach. A cook who kicked anyone who looked at a woman wrong. A swordsman who got lost in straight lines. A sniper afraid of his own shadow. A navigator who'd been stealing from pirates for eight years.
He loved it.
But first—bullets. Tonight, while everyone slept off the party, he'd sneak back to his ship and get to work. Nothing like the smell of melting lead and gunpowder to remind you you're still alive.
---
"So what's our first stop?" he called out, joining the conversation.
"Loguetown!" Luffy announced.
"The town where the Pirate King was executed! I wanna see it!"
"Loguetown…" Nami murmured, already thinking like a navigator.
"That's on the way to the Grand Line entrance. We can stock up there."
"See? Everything works out!" Luffy grinned.
---
As the night wore on, the celebration wound down. The Straw Hats sat together by the dying fire. Zoro snored in his corner. Usopp told one last story to the few kids still awake. Sanji cleaned up plates like the gentleman he pretended not to be.
Tomorrow, they'd leave Cocoyasi behind.
Tomorrow, they'd chase dreams bigger than the ocean.
But tonight?
They were exactly where they needed to be.
Together. Free.
And ready for whatever came next.
.