Nami raised the knife again.
Her hand trembled, slick with blood and tears, the blade poised to tear deeper into the tattoo burned onto her shoulder—into the mark that had ruled her life for eight endless years.
Then—
Her wrist was caught mid-swing.
Strong fingers wrapped around her hand, stopping the blade inches from her skin. The force was sudden, unyielding.
"Let go!" Nami screamed, spinning around. "Let go of me!"
Luffy stood there, unmoving.
She thrashed against him, fury pouring out in broken sobs. "You don't know anything! You don't know what I've been through! You don't know my village, my pain, my deal—just leave me alone!"
Her words were sharp, desperate, meant to push him away like everyone else.
But Luffy didn't move.
He didn't shout back.
He didn't argue.
He didn't let go.
For the first time in years, Nami felt something crack.
Her strength gave out. Her knees buckled. The knife slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the dirt. She clenched her fist against her chest, gasping, shaking, pride finally shattered beyond repair.
She looked up at him.
Her vision was blurred with tears, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Luffy… help me."
The world went silent.
Luffy didn't hesitate.
Without saying a word, he reached up and took off his straw hat—the hat he treasured more than anything, the symbol of his promise, his dream, his very soul. Gently, carefully, he placed it on Nami's head.
It settled there, warm and real.
Her breath caught.
That single gesture said everything.
You're not alone.
You're my nakama.
Your pain is mine now.
Nami clutched the brim of the hat as her shoulders shook, tears spilling freely beneath it.
Then Luffy turned away.
He walked into the center of the road, planting his feet into the dirt as if the ground itself belonged to him. He drew in a breath so deep it felt like the air bent toward him—and then he roared.
"OF COURSE I WILL!"
His voice thundered across the village, across the trees, across the sea itself—loud enough for Arlong, loud enough for every Fish-Man, loud enough for the entire island to hear.
It wasn't a promise.
It was a declaration of war.
Behind him, Zoro stepped forward, bloodied but burning with resolve. Sanji lit a cigarette, eyes dark with fury. Usopp swallowed his fear and straightened his back.
The walk to Arlong Park began.
Four figures marched ahead without hesitation, without doubt, carrying Nami's tears with them like a banner.
They weren't going to negotiate.
They weren't going to retreat.
They were going to end it.
Once and for all.
♤
Nami watched them march toward Arlong Park.
Their backs grew smaller with every step, yet the weight in her chest grew heavier. She couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears came all at once—years of fear, anger, and exhaustion breaking free after eight long years of carrying everything alone.
Her legs finally gave out.
She collapsed onto the ground, weak and trembling, her sobs shaking her entire body. The road beneath her felt cold, unforgiving—just like the life she had endured.
Then she felt it again.
That presence.
The same one she always felt. The same one she thought about more than she wanted to admit. The reason she was still here at all.
She didn't look up.
She couldn't.
She was afraid of being seen like this—broken, helpless, exposed. Afraid of being nothing more than a traitor in his eyes. Afraid to face him now, when she had finally allowed herself to fall apart.
The man behind her quietly crouched down to her level.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
The warmth of him startled her. It was gentle—protective, steady, real.
"I-it's a-alright," he murmured softly. "I-if you d-don't b-believe i-in m-me… t-then p-please b-believe i-in t-them. T-they c-can d-do it."
His words sank into her chest.
And suddenly, she understood.
Now she knew why he had let her go.
Why he never stopped her.
Why the others were here now.
He had called them to her side.
Because he believed he wasn't worthy enough to be trusted. Not worthy enough to be relied on. Not worthy enough to stand where they stood.
That was why he stayed silent back then.
Why he said, "Who am I to stop you?"
The realization crushed her.
She couldn't take it anymore.
Nami turned around suddenly and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she would fall apart without him there. Her cries broke free, raw and desperate.
"I-it's n-not l-like t-that…" she sobbed. "I d-didn't m-mean t-to… i-it's n-not w-what y-you t-think…"
Her tears soaked into his shoulder as she clutched him tighter.
But his voice remained calm, unwavering.
"I-it's o-okay," he whispered. "I-it's o-okay… t-they w-will w-win. F-for s-sure."
Nami couldn't find the words to explain what she was feeling. Every time she tried to speak to him, everything inside her only seemed to tangle further. So she stopped trying.
She simply buried her face against his neck.
And cried.
"I-I'm s-sorry… I'm s-sorry…" she repeated again and again, her voice breaking with each word.
The apology wasn't just for him.
It was for herself.
For the years she endured alone.
For the pain she never allowed herself to release.
And for the first time—
She wasn't alone anymore.