…
"I think I was wrong about my powers."
Nami continued eating her orange slices.
We were sitting on opposite sides of the tiny table inside the ship's cabin. Between us sat four cups, a bucket of water, one empty bottle and several pieces of extremely stale bread. It had been almost three weeks since Port Tragedy; I'd begin recovering a little, working out, lazing around. But then I started thinking back on the fights I had, and then I started hypothesising, which now led to the scene before you.
Nami took another bite from an orange slice.
"You've said that three times," she replied.
"I was building tension, my dear", I said smugly
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
"Explain the cups."
I leaned forward.
"Right. These cups are me."
Nami looked at it, then at me.
"It's chipped."
"Don't make this personal."
I picked up the bucket and filled the cup to the top.
"Normally, this is my strength. Full cup. Everything I can naturally use."
Nami rested her cheek against one hand.
"And?"
"When you cuffed me in Port Tragedy, because you're evil, the seastone obviously kept draining me of my strength"
I poured most of the water from the cup back into the bucket, leaving less than half inside.
"So I went from this…"
I held up the full bottle.
"…to this."
I held up the half-empty cup.
"At first, I assumed my power had somehow begun adapting directly to the seastone. That would explain why I could keep moving and fighting even while wearing the cuff."
"Yes, that's what you told me before," she said, rolling her eyes.
I gave her a deadpan stare for interrupting. She raised her hands before doing a small motion for me to continue.
"The cuff kept draining my strength, but my adaptation responded to the weakness it caused. My body didn't necessarily learn how to stop the seastone. It could've just learned how to replace what the seastone was taking."
I picked up the bottle and poured a little water into the half-empty cup.
"So the cuff drains me down here."
I tapped the waterline.
"Then my power starts adding strength back."
I poured in more.
"It kept doing that while I was running, fighting the marines, whatever."
"And Garp."
"Especially Garp." I sighed.
I poured until the cup was nearly full again.
"By the end, I was still wearing the cuff, and it was still weakening me. My body had simply adapted to operating with that weakness. It was pouring strength back in fast enough to keep me moving."
Nami lowered the orange.
"So you weren't becoming resistant to seastone."
"I can't say with 100% certainty,". I said, shrugging. "I don't know whether the adaptation recognised seastone itself. It might've, but the problem is that I can't prove it without putting another cuff on."
Nami's gaze sharpened slightly.
"No." she said
"I hadn't asked." I raised my hands, feigning innocence
"You were thinking it."
"I think many things."
"You are not putting on another seastone cuff."
"Concerned for me now?" I raised a brow
I continued before she could throw an orange slice at me.
"The important part happened when you removed it."
I refilled the cup completely.
"The cuff came off, so my original strength returned."
Then I grabbed the bottle again and continued pouring.
Water rose past the rim and spilled across the table.
Nami jerked the charts away from the splash.
"Kai!"
"It's a practical demonstration Nami"
"You're soaking the table!"
I continued, ignoring her, "The original strength came back, but the adaptation compensating for the drain of said strength was still in effect."
Water continued running over the cup and onto the floor.
"So instead of stopping here…"
I tapped the rim.
"…it kept adding strength."
Nami stared at the overflowing cup.
"That's why you reacted that way when you punched Smoker," she said, thinking back while holding her chin.
"Exactly."
To be fair I was still not 100% on the inner workings of these powers. But it was clear that, for a short period, my body had been producing enough extra strength to compensate for the seastone while my natural strength was no longer being drained, so everything stacked.
My normal strength, plus the adaptation to having that strength constantly taken away.
Mind you, I was also getting other adaptations like improvements from running, climbing and fighting, my bullet resistance and even the presence of the Logia. All of which I adapted to while in a "weakened" state.
Honestly, Smoker came back at the worst possible moment.
I'd crossed the distance before he could properly reform, hit him once and watched him disappear through half the dock, and it felt fuckin' great.
For about an hour, then slightly less incredible.
Then merely excellent.
Then hungry.
Over the next few days since then, the absurd surplus had, unfortunately, faded. The adaptations I had built during Port Tragedy started slipping away as well.
BUT! Not completely.
That was where my original theory had been wrong.
I took the overflowing cup and emptied most of it into the bucket. Then I filled it again, this time stopping slightly above the original line I had scratched into the wood.
"I thought the extra water would all disappear once the adaptations faded."
Nami studied the new waterline. "But it didn't."
"Nope", I said, popping the 'p'.
Even sitting down, the difference was obvious. I had once again gotten slightly larger, gaining another foot in height, so my body had definitely transformed.
"I kept some of it," I said. "Not the ridiculous amount I had when the cuff first came off. I'm nowhere close to that now, unfortunately. Still, my body didn't return all the way to where it started."
Nami looked down at the cups again.
"What happens if someone puts seastone on you now?"
I leaned back in the chair.
"No idea."
"Useful." She scoffed
"I know the weakness it causes. My body should compensate faster next time because it remembers the feeling."
"But the seastone itself might still work normally."
"Probably." I nodded.
"And if it does?"
"I'll most likely become weak again."
Nami's fingers tightened slightly around the orange peel.
I noticed her face stayed casual, yet her voice didn't.
"Then don't get caught," she said.
"I'll try"
"It would be easier if you followed plans."
"I followed your plan in Port Tragedy."
"You walked away halfway through it."
"Garp arrived."
"You challenged him."
"Yeah, after you trapped me with the guy", I retorted, pointing at her.
She threw a piece of orange at me.
I caught it in my mouth.
Scientific method bitch!
…
Our time together wasn't too eventful. At first, Nami decided I needed to memorise the signal flags used by merchant and Marine vessels.
She held up a red-and-white flag.
"What does this mean?"
"Danger."
"Correct."
She changed it for a blue flag with a white square.
"Medical assistance."
"Correct."
Then she raised a yellow-and-black flag.
"Pirates aboard."
"No."
"Someone on board owes money."
"No."
"The cook is attractive."
Nami lowered the flag.
"You haven't even looked at the guide."
"I'm learning intuitively."
"You're inventing answers."
She threw the guide at my face.
That evening, she caught me hanging my wet socks from the same signal line.
Her reaction had been unreasonable.
The stew room incident was worse.
I was sitting at the edge of the deck, repairing a tear in my trousers with a comically small needle. Nami stood near the helm, watching the compass and adjusting our heading.
"Your turn to cook," I said.
She glanced back. "My turn?"
"I cooked yesterday."
"You burned fish; I'd hardly call that cooking"
"Still cooked it though"
"You literally dropped it into the fire."
Nami stared at me.
I pointed below deck. "Go on. Stew room."
Her expression changed.
"Stew room?"
The needle stopped in my fingers.
For a moment, the sea, the wind and the creaking ship all seemed to fade away. I slowly lifted my face towards the deck as a single tear gathered at the corner of my eye.
Nami stepped back slightly. "Why are you crying?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"That doesn't answer anything."
"The Blue Gull crew understood the stew room."
"There is no such thing as a stew room."
I looked at her sharply. "Don't say that."
"It's called a galley."
"Pelli fought for those words."
"Who is Pelli?"
"A visionary."
Nami watched me wipe the tear away with my thumb.
"You're genuinely insane."
"Make stew."
"We don't have a pot."
I looked toward the dented remains of our pots.
Nami followed my gaze.
We both looked back at each other.
"That was your fault," she said.
The stew never happened, and I mourned privately.
…
We were getting closer and closer to our destination, and on one afternoon, I found Nami counting our treasure.
She sat cross-legged on the cabin floor with every bag arranged around her. Coins sat in neat stacks according to value. She counted one stack, wrote the amount in a small notebook, then counted it again.
"You've already counted that."
Nami did not look up.
"I'm checking."
"You checked it yesterday."
"Money can disappear."
"I haven't touched it yet."
"That makes me more suspicious."
"I have my own share of it"
"You ate part of your share."
I raised a brow. "I bought food for us"
"You bought six roasted chickens."
"I'm growing."
"And you ate two before we came back to the ship."
Nami resumed counting, and I leaned against the doorway and watched. Her hands moved quickly.
"How much do you have now?" I asked.
"Not enough." She sighed sadly.
The answer came immediately.
I looked at the stacks.
It was more money than most people in the East Blue would see in their entire lives.
To her, it was still not enough.
"Arlong still expects the full amount?" I asked.
Nami's fingers stopped. Only for a second.
Then she continued. "Yes."
"And you believe he'll honour the deal?"
She looked up sharply.
"He will."
"You sound sure."
"I am."
Her hand tightened around a coin.
I watched her.
Nami's confidence had changed since we began getting closer to Cocoyasi. Near Port Tragedy, she'd been louder and came off as more greedy, constantly amused by the possibility of stealing from everyone around her.
Each day closer to home made her quieter. She checked our heading too often, inspected the horizon whenever she heard a gull cry.
She slept less.
Whenever I said Arlong's name, her body would stiffen, yet she always had this fake grin.
Nami stood.
"You could die, you know."
"Perhaps"
"You say that like it doesn't matter."
"It matters."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
I considered answering.
Not with a speech cause', I didn't have one.
I was kinda nervous, but being slightly nervous is good, right? The closer we got to Cocoyasi, the more often I thought about what would happen if my powers failed to adapt fast enough, especially with the seawater that strengthens him and weakens me.
If he pulled me into the sea before I adapted, I was finished.
I knew that, but I also knew Nami watched me whenever she thought I was not looking. She was waiting for the moment I admitted the offer in Port Tragedy had been bullshit.
It hadn't been; I'm a man of my word.
"Because worrying won't make him any weaker," I said.
"That's your answer?"
"Always."
Nami stared at me for another moment, then returned to her money.
"You're an idiot."
I started to walk back to my room.
…
I was lying near the bow with one arm over my face, thinking about whether sleeping in direct sunlight counted as training, when Nami kicked my boot.
"Get up."
The urgency in her voice made me sit up. She then stood at the rail with a telescope raised toward the eastern horizon.
I followed her line of sight.
A dark sail moved between the waves. A small ship moving fast, with several figures standing on the deck.
Nami lowered the telescope.
"Fish-men?" I asked.
She nodded, "Scouts, I imagine."
I stood. The nearest figure lifted his own telescope.
It pointed toward us, then to Nami. She turned immediately and grabbed the wheel.
"We change course."
"They already saw us, Nami"
"They haven't confirmed anything." She exclaimed
"They're looking directly at you." I scoffed.
"Help with the sail." She ignored.
I moved to the ropes.
Nami pointed.
"Pull that line slowly."
I pulled.
The rope snapped free from the railing.
Nami stared at it in my hand.
"I said slowly." She yelled.
The scout ship changed direction, and it was moving toward us now. Nami adjusted the wheel again.
"There's a narrow current ahead! Their ship is heavier, so if we reach it first, they won't risk following."
Thunk!
An arrow struck our sail.
Then another.
A hook flew across the gap and caught the rear railing.
Several fish-men grabbed the rope and pulled.
Our ship jerked sideways.
I wrapped one hand around the line.
Nami saw me.
"No."
"They're pulling us."
"Cut it."
"I have a better idea."
"You don't!"
I pulled, and the rope snapped tight as their entire ship shifted across the water.
One fish-man fell over the railing, and another crashed into the mast.
Nami looked at me with genuine anger.
"Why would you do that?"
"They attacked first."
"We were supposed to arrive quietly."
A large blue fish-man jumped across the gap.
He landed on our deck, a heavy club in both hands.
I smiled. "Warm-up."
"Kai, don't!"
The club came toward my head.
I raised one arm.
It struck my forearm and shattered in half; the fish-man looked at the broken club. I punched him in the stomach and his feet lifted from the deck.
He crossed the gap between the ships and smashed through his own railing.
Three more boarded.
One came low with a hooked blade. I stepped around the strike, caught his wrist and introduced his face to the deck. The second wrapped his arms around my waist and tried to lift me.
He was pretty strong.
My feet shifted half an inch, then stopped.
I reached around him, locked my hands and lifted.
His expression changed.
"Yeah," I said. "That's what I thought."
I threw him into the third fish-man.
Both crashed through the cabin door.
Nami ducked as broken wood scattered across the deck.
"That was our door!"
"We'll buy another."
"With whose money?"
"Ours."
"Your share is paying for it!" Nami cried out; one of the fishmen crossed the rope after them, sword raised.
He landed, saw the other fish-men scattered across our deck and immediately lowered his weapon.
"Good choice," I exclaimed.
Behind him, the first fish-man dragged himself free of the broken railing.
His eyes moved from me to Nami; a smirk formed on his face before he then jumped into the sea.
I stepped toward the rail.
Nami grabbed my trousers.
"Leave him."
"He's escaping."
"He's a fish-man."
"I noticed."
"You can't catch him underwater."
"I can throw something."
I grabbed the surrendered scout's sword and threw it. The blade struck the sea behind the fleeing shape before he then disappeared beneath the surface.
Nami released me. Her face had gone pale beneath the anger.
"He'll reach Arlong Park before us and warn Arlong."
"...Yes."
"We had one advantage." She yelled, kicking one of the fishmen on the ground.
"There are still several of them unconscious."
"We had the element of surprise!"
Her voice cracked across the deck, and the surrendered fish-man flinched.
I looked at Nami.
She was terrified.
I looked toward the water where the scout had vanished.
"Good."
Nami stared at me.
"Good?"
"Saves time."
"You cannot be serious."
"I am."
"He'll prepare his crew."
"..."
"He'll be waiting for us."
"..."
"He might go after the village."
I looked toward the horizon.
"How long until we arrive?"I said calmly.
"If the wind holds, tomorrow morning."
"Then we make sure he doesn't have time to do anything."
"That was the quiet approach."
"The quiet approach is dead."
"Because of you."
"Mostly because they fired arrows at us."
"You pulled their ship toward ours!"
Nami turned away before she actually tried to kill me.
She grabbed the wheel and began correcting our course. I tied the captured scouts together while the fish-man watched nervously.
"What are you going to do with us?"
I looked at Nami.
She did not turn around.
"Take their supplies, charts and sail," she said. "Leave enough water for them to drink to reach the nearest island."
The fish-man relaxed.
"Then break their mast."
His relief vanished.
I smiled.
"Navigator's orders."
By sunset, the scout ship floated behind us with a broken mast and several furious fish-men tied around it. Nami had taken their charts, food, weapons, spare rope and every berry she found on board.
She counted the berries twice because, of course, she did.
We sailed through the night, and neither of us spoke much.
I repaired the railing.
Nami repaired my repair.
I replaced the cabin door with two boards and a blanket.
Nami called it temporary.
I called it improved airflow.
She threatened to make me sleep outside again, but I was already sleeping outside, so the threat lacked substance.
I woke before sunrise the next morning.
Nami stood at the bow.
The ship moved through calm water beneath a pale sky.
Ahead of us, land sat on the horizon.
Green fields and Tangerine trees as well as a line of houses near the coast.
Cocoyasi.
I walked over and stopped beside her.
Nami didn't insult me. She did not talk about money, nor did she explain the current of the oceans or complain that I was standing too close to the chart.
Her hands gripped the railing.
Her knuckles had gone white.
During our travels, she had always found something to say, but now that home was in front of her, Nami went completely silent.
I looked at the island, then at her before placing my hand atop hers on the railing. She looked down and smirked but said nothing.
We stood together, in silence.
…
End of Chapter!
Word Count - 3048