The atmosphere, which had just shifted to one of triumphant relief, shattered in an instant.
As Nami caught the tossed Eternal Pose, the motion caused her t-shirt to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of her midriff. It was a fleeting, harmless moment—until Mario's eyes, sharpened by training and paranoia, locked onto a small, angry red mark just beside her navel.
He moved without thought. The air cracked.
Soru.
In a blur, he was directly in front of a startled Nami, his hands coming up not to grope, but to gently but firmly hold her by the shoulders, his gaze laser-focused on the bite.
"Wha… What do you think you're doing?!" Nami yelped, her face flushing a deep red from both surprise and indignation.
"OI! You shitty, perverted Quartermaster! Get your filthy hands off of Nami-san!" Sanji was a whirlwind of rage, a leg already poised to deliver a fiery kick, but Mario's next action, spoke not with lust but with sheer, unadulterated panic, froze him in his tracks.
Mario ignored them all, his fingers gently brushing the skin around the mark. His touch was clinical, his expression one of dawning horror.
"When were you bitten? By what? When did it happen?" The urgency in his voice was a cold splash of water on the crew's confusion.
Nami, still flustered, tried to pull away. "Wha-what are you talking about? It's nothing! Just a mosquito bite from earlier when we were in the jungle! It itches a little, that's all!"
A cold sweat instantly beaded on Mario's brow, his blood running cold.
Damnit. It already happened. Chopper! We need a doctor! Now!
The sheer, visceral terror in Mario's eyes—a man who had just calmly taken down four Baroque Works officers—was more frightening than any giant or dinosaur.
„What's wrong, Mario?" Luffy asked. For all his carefree nature, he could read the genuine alarm in his crewmate's face, and his own grin had vanished, replaced by a look of serious concern.
Mario's mind raced. He couldn't reveal the truth—that he knew this was the beginning of a life-threatening illness that would nearly claim Nami's life and force them to seek a mad doctor in a winter kingdom. Panic would waste precious time. He needed to create urgency without causing chaos.
„This isn't just any mosquito bite," Mario said, his voice low and intense, his lie crafted from a sliver of truth. „In the Grand Line, even the insects are different. Their bites can carry diseases we've never seen, and we don't have the medicine on board to treat something like that." He looked directly at Luffy, appealing to his core instinct to protect his crew. „What happens if we can't cure it? It could be really dangerous for Nami. We can't take that risk."
Nami stared at him, a strange mix of annoyance and unease in her eyes. She trusted Mario, but his sudden intensity was unnerving.
„It's a little red spot, Mario. You're overreacting."
„That is enough! Take your hands off my Nami-swan!" Sanji shrieked, his concern manifesting as rage towards Mario. He swooned dramatically. „Nami-swan, please, let me hold you until you feel bett—OW!"
His advances were cut short by Nami's fist connecting solidly with the top of his head. „It's fine!" she snapped, her patience worn thin.
„Nothing is going to happen. It's just a mosquito. Leave it alone, for crying out loud!" She forcefully pulled her shirt down, covering the mark as if to erase the subject. „This whole crew is crazy, I swear."
She turned on her heel, clutching the Eternal Pose to her chest like a lifeline, her focus forcibly returned to the crisis she understood.
„Okay, let's go! We need to get to Alabasta right now. That's what matters."
But as she marched purposefully toward the Going Merry, a small, subconscious shiver ran through her. Mario's fear, though seemingly irrational, had planted a seed of doubt. And Mario himself watched her go, his own anxiety now a silent, screaming companion on the journey ahead. He had accelerated their timeline, but the clock on Nami's health had already started ticking.
***
With the thunderous help of Dorry and Brogy, who dispatched the nightmarish Island Eater with a single, coordinated blast that shook the very sea, the Going Merry escaped Little Garden. Mario watched the colossal goldfish sink beneath the waves, a creature so vast it defied belief, but even that spectacle was overshadowed by the gnawing worry in his gut.
The moment they hit open water, Mario's vigil began. He tried to be subtle, but his eyes were constantly drawn to Nami. He watched her as she charted their course, as she laughed at one of Usopp's tales, as she argued with Luffy over the last piece of meat. For the first day, she seemed fine, her usual sharp-tongued, vibrant self, which made his anxiety feel almost foolish.
But on the second day, he saw it.
It started with a slight, almost imperceptible paleness beneath her tanned skin. Then, a sheen of sweat on her brow that wasn't from the tropical sun. He watched as she paused while folding a map, bringing a hand to her forehead with a faint, weary sigh.
When she stood up too quickly to adjust a sail, a wave of dizziness made her stumble, forcing her to grab the railing for support.
"Mario, would you stop staring? It's creepy," she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual fire. It was thinner, strained.
He didn't answer. He just walked over and, before she could protest, pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. The skin was hot and clammy, burning with a fever that had ignited with terrifying speed.
Their eyes met. Her irritation faded, replaced by a flicker of confusion and fear as she saw the grim confirmation in his gaze. The "just a mosquito" lie was dead. The fever had begun.
„God damnit!"
The curse was a sharp, helpless exhalation. Mario wasted not a single second. In one fluid motion, he swept Nami up into a princess carry, ignoring her startled yelp of protest.
„Mario! Put me down! I don't nee—"
„Shut up! You're burning up!" he snapped, his voice tight with a fear that brooked no argument.
He wasn't asking; he was acting. He carried her swiftly into the cabin, his movements urgent but careful, and laid her on her bed. Her skin, even through her clothes, felt dangerously hot.
Vivi rushed in, her eyes wide with alarm. „Mario, what's wrong? What's happening?"
From the doorway, other concerned faces appeared. Usopp and Luffy peered in, their expressions shifting from curiosity to worry. „What's going on?" Usopp asked.
The situation exploded as Sanji burst into the room, his face a mask of protective fury. „OI! What is the big deal, Mario?! Get your hands off of Nami-san this instant!" he roared, a leg already lifting for a kick.
But Mario didn't even look at him. His entire world had narrowed to Nami's feverish form. He was ripping a piece of cloth, soaking it in the freshwater basin beside the bed, his hands moving with a frantic, focused energy. He could not contain himself. His mind was a frantic, racing torrent, logic swept away by a raw, primal surge of protectiveness. The reason was simple, embarrassing, and utterly, undeniably true: he was in love with her.
A long time ago….he was truly in love.
In another life, another world, he had been just a reader, lost in the pages of a manga. He had spent countless hours fantasizing about being right there, on the Going Merry, a part of their crew. And in those quiet, private moments, his fantasies had often drifted to her—to Nami. He imagined sharing jokes with her, earning one of her rare, genuine smiles, fighting alongside her, and building something more.
It was a stupid, impossible fantasy for a man living in a mundane world, but her character—her strength, her intelligence, her hidden kindness—had captivated him completely.
Who the hell could have ever known that the stupid, beautiful fantasy would become his crushing reality? That he would actually meet her, hear her voice, see the light in her eyes? And now, seeing her like this—pale, sweating, her vibrant spirit dimmed by sickness—it amplified every feeling, every ounce of worry, by a thousand percent.
This wasn't a story anymore.
This was the woman he cared for, truly and deeply, and she was suffering. The fear was paralyzing, a cold knot in his stomach that tightened with every ragged breath she took. He would move heaven and earth, defy the very narrative itself, to make her well again.
Suddenly, the door slid open with a bang. Luffy stomped in, his sandals slapping against the wooden floor. He stopped at the foot of the bed, stared intently at Nami for a long moment, his straw hat shadowing his eyes.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for a profound statement from their captain.
Luffy then poked Nami's cheek with his rubbery finger. "Hey, Nami. You're all... jiggly and hot. Like pork chops!"
Sanji's eye twitched, a visible vein throbbing on his forehead. "YOU IDIOT CAPTAIN! DON'T COMPARE NAMI-SWAN TO PROVISIONS!" he roared, a kick already aimed at Luffy's head, which the rubberman effortlessly dodged.
"B-But she is!" Luffy insisted, genuinely perplexed.
Usopp, who had been peeking in from the doorway while clutching a cross he'd fashioned from two spoons, gasped in horror.
"DON'T SAY THAT, LUFFY! This is clearly a powerful jungle spirit that latched onto her! We need to perform an exorcism!"
He then began waving his spoon-cross at Nami, chanting, "The power of Usopp compels you! The power of Usopp compels you!"
Luffy, now thoroughly intrigued by the concept, grabbed Nami's shoulders and started shaking her gently. "Hey, ghost! Get out of Nami! Go haunt Usopp instead, he's more fun to scare!"
"LUFFY! STOP SHAKING THE PATIENT!" Mario, Sanji, and Vivi all screamed in unison.
From her feverish haze, Nami groaned, a weak, delirious mutter escaping her lips. "...Shut up... all of you... morons... my head hurts..."
The room fell silent for a second before erupting again.
"SHE'S SPEAKING IN TONGUES!" Usopp yelped, backing away.
"That's just her normal voice, you fool!" Sanji yelled, his worry manifesting as rage at everyone else.
Mario, watching the chaotic, heartfelt, and utterly ridiculous display, felt a strange, painful mix of overwhelming fear and profound affection. They were a mess. They were handling this in the worst way possible. But in their own insane, dysfunctional way, they were screaming to the world how much they cared. And he knew, with every fiber of his being, that he was part of this beautiful, crazy family. And he would do anything, anything, to save her.