Chapter 85 — Silk, Spice, and Hands That Linger(now the real chapter last one what's one of my scrap chapter)
(POV: Sunny)
The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a hum in my bones that felt less like exhaustion and more like being drunk on gravity.
The sun had long since surrendered to the Alabasta night, and in its wake, the desert had transformed. Nanohana wasn't just a port city anymore; it was a glowing ember in the dark. The sky was a deep, bruised violet, punctured by stars that felt close enough to touch—if only I had the strength to reach. The air had changed, too. The dry, choking heat of the afternoon had been replaced by a cooling breeze that tasted of salt and roasting coffee, but beneath that was the heavier scent of the city—cardamom, expensive resins, and the pervasive, floral perfume that seemed to emanate from Vivi like a physical aura.
I should have been back on the Merry. I should have been face-down in a pillow for the next eighteen hours, letting my brain reboot after the sensory overload of the harbor.
Instead, I was being herded.
"Walk faster, asset," Nami murmured.
She hadn't let go of my left bicep since we hit the marble-paved merchant district. Her fingers were hooked firmly under the fabric of my sleeve, her thumb occasionally brushing against the skin of my inner arm. It wasn't a hold meant to restrain—I was a 200-million-berry pirate, I could have slipped her grip in a heartbeat—but it was possessive. Calculative. It was the kind of grip a miser uses on a heavy bag of gold.
"The high-end textile district closes at dusk," she continued, her voice a low, melodic threat. "The merchants here are finicky. If we miss the good bolts of silk because you're dragging your feet, I'm doubling your interest rates. Consider it a late fee for your existence."
"I have debt?" I asked, my voice still a little raspy from the speech. The microphone had done most of the work, but my throat felt like I'd swallowed a handful of hot sand.
"You exist," Nami replied breezily, not even looking at me. Her eyes were sharp, scanning the stalls for the telltale shimmer of high-thread counts. "Therefore, you cost money. Logistics, Sunny. Keep up."
On my right, Nojiko hummed a low, amused sound. She wasn't gripping me like her sister. She was just… there. Every third step, her hip brushed against mine. It was a rhythmic, deliberate contact that sent a weird little spike of static through me. She was walking with a languid grace, twirling a tangerine peel between her fingers, looking for all the world like she owned the street.
Every time our shoulders bumped, she didn't move away. She leaned into it, forcing me to adjust my stride to hers. It was a silent, territorial dance.
"He's still trembling, Nami," Nojiko noted, her voice dripping with a lazy, 'big sister' affection that I was starting to suspect was a mask for something much more predatory. "The poor hero is overstimulated. Look at his eyes. He's about two minutes away from a system crash."
"He's fine," Nami countered, though she tightened her grip on my arm. "He's just adjusting to the upgrade. A mascot can't perform in rags."
And on my back, a literal dead weight.
"Meat…" Lucy mumbled into my hair. Her arms were wrapped loosely around my neck, her legs hooked around my waist. She was technically asleep, her chin resting on my shoulder, but her "cling reflex" was fully operational. Every time I tried to shift her weight, her arms tightened instinctively, pulling me closer.
"He needs to breathe, Captain," a calm, melodic voice drifted from behind us.
I looked back. Robin was walking a few paces behind, her hands folded elegantly in front of her. She was watching the scene with the detached curiosity of an archaeologist observing a rare, struggling specimen. There was a smirk on her lips—not the arrogant smirk I usually wore, but something more ancient. More knowing.
"If you strangle the mascot, morale will plummet," Robin continued, her eyes locking onto mine. She didn't look away. Most people flinched when they saw the glowing fracture on my face, but Robin studied it. Like she was reading a Poneglyph. "Though, I suppose a breathless Sunny has its own... aesthetic appeal."
"Mmm… Sunny smells like sunshine and gunpowder," Lucy slurred, burying her face deeper into the crook of my neck. "Mine. No selling."
"I'm not being sold, Lucy," I sighed, though Nami's grip suggested otherwise.
We turned a corner, and the shouting of the main market died away, replaced by the soft, expensive rustle of fabrics and the murmur of serious haggling. This was the Limestone Quarter. The streets here were polished to a mirror finish, reflecting the lantern light like dark water.
"We are here to shop," Vivi announced, taking the point.
She looked different here. On the ship, she was our navigator's shadow, a girl trying to find her place. But here, with the sandstone of her ancestors beneath her boots, she was every inch a Princess. Her posture was straighter, her blue hair caught the light of the torches, and her eyes scanned the textile stalls with a mix of nostalgia and cold, royal assessment.
"If Sunny is to perform tomorrow… if he is to stand before the Royal Palace and the people of Alabasta… he cannot look like a pirate," Vivi said. She stopped and turned to look at me. The 'Princess' mask slipped for a heartbeat, revealing the girl who had held my hand in the jungle. Her eyes softened, turning a deep, liquid blue. "He needs to look like a Prince. He needs to look like the miracle they think he is."
I swallowed hard. The fracture on my face throbbed—a warm, steady pulse that seemed to sync with the heartbeat of the city itself.
"No pressure," I muttered.
"None at all," Nojiko whispered, her lips dangerously close to my ear as we walked. "Just don't trip, hero. All eyes are on you."
(POV: Robin)
I found the dynamic fascinating.
To the world, Sunny was the 'Cutest Man on the Sea,' a terrifyingly powerful pirate with a face that could launch a thousand ships. But here, in the dim light of the Nanohana night, he was something else.
I watched the way Nami and Nojiko boxed him in. It wasn't just protection; it was a claim. They were weaving a web around him, using touch and proximity to remind him exactly where he belonged. And Sunny, for all his 'Abyss Assassin' reputation, was letting them. He was surrendering.
There is something deeply provocative about a man who can destroy a Giants with a look but allows himself to be led by the hand.
"He's overwhelmed," I murmured, stepping up beside Vivi as we approached the Gilded Loom, the most exclusive textile merchant in the city.
"He's done enough," Vivi replied, her voice low and fierce. "He cleared the path, Robin. He took the shadows so I could walk in the sun. The least I can do is make sure he looks the part of a savior."
I smiled. "A savior in Royal Indigo. You have excellent taste, Princess."
Vivi led us into the courtyard. It was an oasis of silk. Bolts of fabric were draped from the rafters like cascading waterfalls of color—crimson, emerald, gold, and the deep, midnight blue of the desert sky.
The merchant, a man whose mustache was groomed with more care than most people's careers, hurried forward. He saw Nami first—the predator. Then Vivi—the royalty. Then his eyes landed on Sunny, who was currently trying to gently unstick a sleeping Lucy from his back.
The merchant froze. His jaw didn't just drop; it practically hit the marble.
"The... the boy," he stammered. "The one from the posters.
"His name is Sunny," Nami said, her voice sharp as a razor. She stepped in front of me, shielding Sunny from the merchant's gaze. "And we are on a schedule. Show us your best silk. No synthetics. If I see a single frayed thread, I'm deducting it from the price."
"Of course, Madame!" the merchant squeaked.
(POV: Sunny)
"Hold this," Nojiko ordered.
I didn't have a choice. She pressed a bolt of deep indigo silk against my chest. My hands were shaking—not from fear, but from the sheer physical drain of the last day. I feel like my Haki was still recharging, leaving me feeling raw and touch-sensitive.
Nojiko noticed immediately. She didn't say anything, but she stepped closer. Her hands covered mine on the fabric, her fingers weaving through mine to steady the bolt.
"Steady, hero," she murmured.
She was so close I could smell the tangerine oil on her skin. Her eyes were fixed on the line of my jaw, tracing the faint glow of the fracture. She looked like she wanted to reach out and touch it. She looked like she wanted to do a lot more than that.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"You're a terrible liar," she whispered, her smirk widening. "Your heart is doing triple-time."
Across from us, Vivi was conferring with Nami. They were holding up different sashes—gold, silver, white.
"Indigo and gold," Vivi insisted. "It's the traditional garb of the Oasis Guardians. It represents the water and the sun."
"It's also expensive as hell," Nami added, though she was already pulling out her purse. "But fine. He's an investment. We need him to look top-tier."
Suddenly, a splash of cold water hit the back of my neck.
"HEY!" I barked, spinning around.
Aqua was floating a few inches off the ground, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. She was twirling a small orb of water between her fingers.
"You look like you're about to melt, Sunny!" Aqua chirped, her voice echoing in the quiet courtyard. "I'm just keeping my favorite priest hydrated! You can't be the 'Cutest Pirate' if you're a shriveled raisin!"
"I'm not a priest, Aqua," I sighed, wiping the water from my neck.
"You're my priest," she corrected, drifting closer until she was hovering right in front of my face. She reached out, her cool, damp fingers brushing the glowing crack on my cheek. "Besides, if you're going to be a Prince tomorrow, you need a Goddess's blessing. And my blessing comes with 100% more humidity."
She winked at me, then turned to the merchant. "Mortal! Do you have anything in a celestial blue? Something that screams 'I am the center of the universe'?"
The merchant just blinked at her.
"Ignore the goddess," Robin said, stepping into the light. She walked over to me, her eyes scanning the indigo silk. "The color suits you, Sunny. It matches the darkness you've been carrying."
She reached out, her hand lingering on my shoulder. "But the gold... the gold is the part that will save the kingdom."
(POV: Sunny)
"In there," Nami commanded, pointing to a curtained alcove at the back of the courtyard.
"Wait, alone?" I asked, clutching the bundle of silk and linen.
"Unless you want an audience," Nojiko teased, leaning against the doorframe.
I beat a hasty retreat behind the heavy velvet curtains. The alcove was small, lit by a single, flickering candle that smelled of jasmine. It was quiet. Private.
I stripped off my torn, dust-caked cloak. My undershirt followed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the small silver mirror on the wall. I looked... different. The fracture on my face was more pronounced now, a jagged line of white light that seemed to be pulsing in rhythm with my breathing. My muscles were corded, lean, marked by the scars of the North Blue and the Grand Line. "Just joking—as if there'd ever be a scar on this flawless skin."
I pulled on the white linen undershirt. It was cool and soft against my skin. Then the indigo vest. It was heavy, weighted with gold embroidery.
Suddenly, the curtain rustled.
"I told you I needed air!" I said, spinning around.
It wasn't Nami.
Robin stood in the entrance of the alcove. She didn't look embarrassed. She didn't look like she was intruding. She just looked... curious.
"The fit is slightly off on the right shoulder," she said calmly, stepping into the small space.
The alcove was barely big enough for one person; with both of us in there, the air became thick and stiflingly warm. Robin didn't hesitate. She reached up, her fingers deft and cool, as she began to adjust the silk of the vest.
"Robin, I can do it—"
"Hush," she murmured. Her eyes were focused on the gold threading, but her hands were dangerously close to my neck. "You've been carrying the weight of this crew for weeks, Sunny. Let someone else handle the details for five minutes."
She smoothed the fabric over my chest, her palms pressing flat against the linen. I could feel every finger, every point of contact. My Haki flared white-hot for a second, then settled into a low, thrumming hum.
"You're a very interesting man, Sunny," Robin whispered, looking up. Her face was inches from mine. "Most men would have used a skill like yours to conquer. You've used it to become a target."
"It's a work in progress," I managed to say.
"Is it?" She reached out, her thumb grazing the glowing crack on my cheek. It didn't hurt. It felt like a low-voltage current. "You're not just a pirate. You're a catalyst. Everything you touch... changes."
She stepped back, her eyes lingering on my lips for a fraction of a second too long before she pulled the curtain open.
"He's ready," she announced to the waiting group.
(POV: Sunny)
When I stepped out, the silence was absolute.
Nami stopped counting her berries. Nojiko stopped twirling her tangerine peel. Even Lucy, who had finally woken up, stopped chewing on a piece of dried meat.
I felt like a specimen under a microscope.
"Well?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably. The gold circlet—the 'Singer's Band'—felt like a halo of ice on my forehead.
"Oh," Vivi breathed. She walked over to me, her hands clasped at her chest. "Sunny... you look..."
"Expensive," Nami finished, though her voice was uncharacteristically soft. She walked a slow circle around me, her eyes taking in the indigo, the gold, and the way the vest flared at my hips. "Very, very expensive."
"You look like a King," Nojiko said, stepping up to my right. She reached out and straightened the gold sash, her knuckles brushing my stomach. "Or at least, someone I'd like to be seen with in public."
"He looks like a hero," Lucy said, jumping off a crate and wrapping her arms around my waist. "My hero."
"I look like I'm about to pass out," I admitted. The heat of the courtyard, the intensity of their gazes, and the lingering hum of Robin's touch were all starting to compress. "I need air. Seriously. Five minutes. I'll meet you at the restaurant."
"Five minutes," Nami warned. "And don't get lost. If I have to send a search party, I'm billing you for the man-hours."
I didn't wait. I slipped out of the courtyard and into the night.
(POV: Sunny — The Wrong Door)
I just wanted a moment of silence.
I turned down a narrow alleyway, away from the main merchant strip. The air was cooler here, squeezed between the tall sandstone buildings. I saw a sign swinging in the breeze—a golden cup and a musical note.
Perfect, I thought. A lounge. A quiet corner. A glass of tea. Maybe a biscuit.
I pushed through the heavy velvet curtains of the entrance, expecting the low murmur of a jazz club.
Instead, I was hit by a wall of bass.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive rosewater and heavy tobacco. The lighting was a dim, provocative crimson. And the music... the music was a slow, rhythmic thrum that made the floorboards vibrate.
I froze.
This wasn't a tea house. This was The Velvet Oasis. A high-end hostess club.
At the tables sat women in uniform—Marines, merchant captains, bounty hunters—all looking like they had a lot of berries to spend and a lot of stress to lose.
And on the stage...
Men. Very attractive, shirtless men, moving with a grace that was clearly designed to maximize tips.
"Oh no," I whispered, backing toward the curtain. "Wrong door. Definitely the wrong door."
But the spotlight was faster.
The club's automated lighting system—or maybe just a very observant DJ—caught the shimmer of my indigo vest and the glow of my face. The beam swiveled, pinning me against the curtains.
The music didn't stop, but the room went quiet. A hundred pairs of eyes locked onto me.
"Is that...?" a woman in a Marine lieutenant's coat gasped.
"The Indigo Prince..." another breathed, standing up so fast she knocked over her drink.
"It's Sunny-sama!" a merchant screamed.
The roar that followed was like a physical blow.
"SUNNY-SAMA! HE'S HERE!"
"HE CAME FOR A PRIVATE SHOW!"
"I HAVE A DOWRY! TAKE MY SHIP!"
I turned to run, but the door behind me was already blocked. Not by the fans, but by the very people I had just escaped.
"Sunny?" Nami's voice was like a crack of thunder over the music.
She stepped through the curtains, followed by Nojiko, Vivi, Robin, and a very confused-looking Aqua.
They took in the room. The crimson lights. The shirtless dancers. The sea of women currently scrambling over tables to get to me.
"Ara ara," Robin purred, her eyes widening in genuine amusement. "It seems our mascot has a very specific set of interests."
"HE DOES NOT!" Nami shrieked, her face turning a shade of red that rivaled the spotlights. "HE'S LOST! HE'S AN IDIOT!"
"I'M NOT AN IDIOT, THE SIGN HAD A TEACUP!" I yelled over the chaos.
"GET BACK!" Nojiko roared, stepping in front of me as the first wave of fans reached us. She didn't use her fists; she just used the sheer force of her personality. "HE IS WITH US! NO TOUCHING THE MERCHANDISE!"
But the fans weren't deterred. They were Alabasta women—hardened by the desert and thirsty for a miracle.
"Step aside, sisters!" a Marine captain yelled, waving a wad of berries. "We want the Prince!"
I was being pulled, shoved, and adored. It was a suffocating, perfumed nightmare.
"Aqua!" I screamed. "DO SOMETHING!"
(POV: Aqua)
Do something? Oh, I'll do something.
I looked at the stage. I looked at those sweaty, mortal men trying to dance. It was offensive. It was an insult to the very concept of beauty.
"MOVE, PEASANTS!" I bellowed.
I didn't walk to the stage. I flowed. I used the moisture in the air to create a ramp of solid ice, sliding right past the security guards and onto the main platform.
I kicked the lead dancer off the stage. He landed in a heap of velvet cushions.
"YOU CALL THIS ENTERTAINMENT?" I shouted, my voice projecting with divine resonance. "YOU WORSHIP FLESH? WITNESS THE GRACE OF THE GODDESS!"
I grabbed the brass pole in the center of the stage.
"MUSIC!" I commanded the DJ. "SOMETHING WITH A SOUL!"
The beat dropped—hard.
I didn't just dance. I manipulated the very physics of the room. I drew the water out of every half-finished drink, every ice bucket, every vase of roses. The liquid swirled around me in glowing, bioluminescent ribbons.
I spun. I defied gravity. I used the water to create a strobe effect that made me look like I was flickering in and out of existence. I was a tornado of blue raiment and hydro-kinetic force.
The club went dead silent. Even the women trying to grab Sunny's vest stopped and stared.
"BEHOLD!" I screamed, hanging upside down by one leg while three water-dragons roared at the ceiling. "AM I NOT DIVINE? AM I NOT THE CENTER OF YOUR UNIVERSE?"
"She's... she's actually good," a Marine whispered.
"She's a monster," another breathed, mesmerized.
The distraction was perfect.
(POV: Sunny)
"Now!" Nami hissed, grabbing my arm. "While they're hypnotized by the lunatic!"
She, Nojiko, and Vivi hauled me toward the back of the club. Robin followed, elegantly stepping over a fainted merchant.
We burst into a private VIP booth—a semi-circular leather alcove hidden behind a heavy gold curtain.
Nami slammed the curtain shut.
Silence. Or as close as we could get with Aqua currently causing a biblical flood on the main stage.
I collapsed onto the leather seat, clutching my chest. My heart was trying to exit my ribcage through my throat.
"Tea," I gasped. "I just... I just wanted tea."
"You walked into a den of sin, Sunny," Robin said, sliding into the booth across from me. She looked remarkably unruffled. She picked up a bottle of wine from the table and poured herself a glass. "And in that outfit... you were practically an invitation."
"It's the vest," Nojiko agreed, sitting down on my right. She leaned in, her shoulder pressing against mine. She took a napkin and began wiping a smudge of red lipstick off my collar. Her eyes were dark, focused. "It's too much. You look too available."
"I am not available!"
"The crowd disagreed," Nami said, sitting on my left. She was fuming, her eyes flashing. She reached over and adjusted my gold circlet, her fingers lingering on my forehead. "If I hadn't been there, you would have been auctioned off by the end of the hour."
"Vivi, help me," I pleaded.
Vivi was sitting next to Robin. She wasn't angry. She was looking at me with a soft, thoughtful expression.
"In Alabasta," Vivi said quietly, "the Indigo Prince is a legend. He is the one who brings the rain and stays for the dawn. You didn't just walk into a club, Sunny. You walked into their folklore."
She reached across the table and placed her hand over mine. Her skin was warm, steady.
"They aren't just fans," Vivi whispered. "They're people who have been living in the dark for years. And you... you're the first bright thing they've seen."
I looked at her. Then at Nami. Then at Nojiko.
The anger in Nami's eyes softened into something else—something more vulnerable. Nojiko's smirk faded, replaced by a quiet, territorial warmth.
"We aren't letting you go, you know," Nojiko murmured, her hand sliding from my collar to the back of my neck. "Not to a club. Not to a kingdom."
"You're stuck with us, hero," Nami added, leaning her head on my shoulder. "Whether you like it or not."
I looked at them. The five women who had become my world. My 'Identity Anchor' stirred in my chest, a solid, heavy weight that felt like home.
"Okay," I whispered. "I'm stuck."
(POV: Sunny — The Walk Back)
The walk back to the Merry was long and slow.
The moon was high now, casting long, dramatic shadows over the sandstone streets. The city was quieter, the frantic energy of the evening settling into a low, sleepy hum.
I walked in the center. Nami and Nojiko were flanking me, our arms brushed with every step. Vivi walked ahead, her blue hair glowing in the moonlight. Robin walked behind, a silent shadow of protection. And Aqua... Aqua was being carried by Sanji, who had eventually found us and was currently sobbing with pride over her "artistic performance."
"I'm going to have a heart attack," Sanji moaned. "A goddess on a pole! My life is complete!"
"Shut up, Sanji," Nami sighed.
We reached the docks. The Going Merry was waiting for us, her sheep figurehead looking particularly welcoming in the harbor lights.
I stopped at the gangplank.
"Sunny?" Nojiko asked, turning back.
I looked at the city of Alabasta. I thought about the stage tomorrow. I thought about the Warlord in the shadows. And I thought about the women standing around me.
"I'm ready," I said.
My tongue felt heavy for a second, then light. From the system—Aletheia—whispered in the back of my mind: Initialization at 98%. Accept the weight, Lord of Determination.
"Let's go home," I said.
And as we stepped onto the ship, I knew that tomorrow, the world was going to change. But tonight... tonight, I was exactly where I needed to be.
[A/N: The stage is set, outfit is on and the girls are possessive. Tomorrow tomorrow, they sing the world into a new era. What song should Sunny perform for his debut? Suggest always helpfull]