A/N: This is my first One Piece fic, written when I first started watching the anime, hence the absence of various major characters and the focus on only a few early battles. Also, I know that in the show (and I suppose the manga too, haven't gotten to that yet. Don't kill me!) L
It's after the fight's over and they're all back on the Merry that he comes to her, slipping quietly into her cabin. It surprised her at first; he was always so loud and obnoxious and…Luffy that she jumped the first time she turned around at the sound of her door opening and caught sight of him. It was after a fight similar to this one, is she recalls correctly.
"Hey Nami," he says, softly closing the door behind him.
"Hey," she greets with a small smile. When he offers nothing by way of conversation, she asks, "You okay?"
He nods silently, eyes on the floor. His straw hat is in his hands, fingers separating and smoothing the strands in turn, running over the scars collected over the years. A nick in the brim from their first run-in with Buggy, three stab marks in the crown from that same fight. She remembers stitching them back together after, just like she'd promised. She'd done it in front of him, showed him, so he could do it himself next time, she'd said.
As if.
It became their ritual. After a fight, he came to her and she fixed his hat while they sat and talked about…whatever came into their minds. But he's quiet tonight, and Nami finds herself wanting to know why. "Is something wrong with your hat?" she inquires, reaching for it, palm up, "Let me take a l—"
He grabs her wrist, grip that can smash boulders to dust gentle as he cradles her smaller hand in his. He gazes down at the marks on her palm, from their first fight, when she smothered a lit fuse to save his miserable life. "I never thanked you," he whispers, tracing the ragged scar.
This softer, quiet side of him has thrown her for a loop, leaving her gaping at their hands for a moment before she recovers, trying to lighten the mood by scoffing, "Of course you did." Didn't he? She thinks so. "We were just busy getting away from Buggy; you don't remember, that's all."
"No, I always remember to thank people," he argues, meeting her eyes for the first time since entering her room. "But I didn't thank you, and you risked so much." He squeezes her wrist for a moment, and it almost hurts, almost, but she finds she likes it.
"Well, you're thanking me now, right?" Nami asks, smiling. She twists her hand to take his, palm to palm, and squeezes back. She shifts closer to him, lowering her voice, "And I knew, Luffy. It's okay." Her tee shirt has shifted and her right shoulder is bare but for her bra strap, revealing another scar earned in their adventures. His gaze snaps from her face to the mark, and something breaks in his eyes. One hand lifts to softly graze her shoulder, and she gasps softly in surprise.
In an instant, he's across her cabin, hands drawn in to his chest, fear and self loathing etched into his face. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, whimpers almost.
"What? Luffy, no!" She stands up and reaches for him, drawing him gently back to her berth to sit beside her. "No, you didn't hurt me, it just surprised me, that's all."
He's not looking at her anymore though, has receded into himself, and the self loathing is still there, deep in his eyes, and she wants it gone, wants nothing but laughter and light for this boy who has turned her world upside down, turned her into an honest pirate.
"Luffy," she insists, covering his hand with hers on her shoulder. "This wasn't your fault. It was Jango that did this. Don't you remember?"
"I called you a jerk," he says, and he sounds so small it brings tears to her eyes. "You woke me up; we were all in danger and I was asleep, and I called you a jerk for it." Tears speckle his shorts.
"You saved us, Luffy. You saved me." She reaches up and draws her thumb across a hairline scar on his mouth. She remembers the horror of watching his head snap back with the force of Jango's throw, spinning chakram between his teeth. The split second thought, He's dead. Nobody could survive that. He's dead. Luffy's dead.
Then, It should have been me.
"I should have known better than to watch him. I never learn, never, and you guys always have to pick up after me."
It is grossly unfair. And it is true.
"Luffy," she tries, and tears start leaking out.
He shakes his head and gets up to leave, but she grabs his arm, his right arm, the one slashed to ribbons during the fight with Kuro, the Black Cat Captain. "I'm not the only one with scars, Luffy." she says. Her grip tightens around his wrist and she pulls him back again, wraps him in a hug this time. He's not getting away, she thinks, not til I know what brought this on.
He starts to shake in her arms, and she feels his hands on her back. Her hands move too, one to his shoulder that bears teeth marks from Arlong and the other to his face, to the only scar whose story she doesn't know, the one under his eye, so old it's only a cobweb thin white line. "What's the matter, Luffy?" she whispers through her tears, and their foreheads are pressed together. She doesn't know when it happened, or who started it, but she doesn't care. "What's wrong?"
His grip tightens around her waist for a moment, almost unbearable tight, and he replies, "Earlier. You almost—" His voice catches in his throat and he has to stop, pulling her closer until she is in his lap, touching from chest to waist. "You almost died, Nami. Because of me."
Images of the earlier fight in port flashed before Nami's eyes. Zoro, down a blade and wounded, watching Usopp's back as he fired off star after star to pick off advancing enemies from a distance. Luffy stretched from the fo'c's'le to the stern, clothes lining anyone who dared come near. Sanji spun like a top, knocking foes onto the dock or into the water. Nami herself, dropping opponents left and right with her bo staff.
Until someone knocked it out of her hands. She remembers crying out as she tripped over some rigging. Except it wasn't rigging, it was Luffy's midsection. Zoro and Sanji were too far away. Usopp wasn't looking. And Luffy.
Luffy was having too much fun.
His face is pressed into her collarbone. She feels his tears wetting her shirt and her eyes well up again with hot, fresh tears. She buries her fingers in his hair and holds him as they cry.
"I'm sorry, Nami. I'm so, so sorry."
"It's okay, Luffy," she replies, squeezing his shoulders. "I forgive you."
His arms hold tighter as he sobs into her neck.
It seems like forever while they sit, tangled up in her berth, doing nothing but crying into each other, but after a while, he sniffles (such a little boy, she thinks) and raises his head. "Nami?"
"Hm?" She smoothes his hair back from his brow, futile, she knows, but she likes being able to look into his eyes while he talks to her.
"Can I stay here tonight?"
The request stills the breath in her lungs for a second, and she feels heat rise to her cheeks, and he must see it, because he quickly backtracks. "I-I don't mean like that! Of course not! Well, not not, but…not tonight. Please?"
He still looks so small and broken with that pleading look in his eyes that she can do nothing but nod her head. "Of course you can, Luffy." She moves off his lap, tries not to smirk as he shifts uncomfortably and puts his hat over his waist. "But no monkey business, you hear me?"
The command has him snorting, awkwardness forgotten, and he grins. There he is. Her Luffy. "Sure thing, Nami."
They leave the berth long enough to pull down the blankets and climb back in, back to front, with her head pillowed on his arm and his nose pressed into her hair.
"Good night, Nami." he whispers into the dark. She feels his breath on her neck and thinks she could get used to this.
"Good night, Luffy."
A/N: This is my first One Piece fic, written when I first started watching the anime, hence the absence of various major characters and the focus on only a few early battles. Also, I know that in the show (and I suppose the manga too, haven't gotten to that yet. Don't kill me!) Luffy doesn't display any of the scars mentioned, but I write from a very realistic perspective, and nobody can go through the physical trauma he withstood and not come out with a few marks. And I know that the scar under his eye is black, but again, realism. Anyway, I hope you like it, and I'm looking forward to adding more OP stories to my page. Stay tuned!
