Therapy
Blood. Red and warm. It flows through the veins of all of living creatures. A heart pumps continuously to circulate it through a vascular system, carrying oxygen and nutrients to and removing waste away from every cell of the body. The average adult has five liters of blood, coursing through their vessels. To lose too much of it meant certain death. Known as vital fluid, the river of life and the animating force, it was now splattered all over dinner. Specifically, the Straw Hat pirates' dinner.
"Sanji, that's gross!" Usopp shrieked. He held his arms up, shielding his face from the bloody onslaught.
"No! Not over the food."
"Dumb cook," Zoro muttered. It happened so fast that he almost didn't raise his sword in time to deflect the assault. "Isn't he suppose to be cured? What happened, Chopper?"
"I don't know!" Chopper was too busy to give him any detailed hypothesis. He hopped off the chair and raced over to the crumpled form lying on the floor.
"Great! How are we suppose to eat now?" Franky wiped the blood from his forehead and his sunglasses.
Robin smiled placidly and simply commented, "Just think of it as an extra protein added to the meal."
Most of the people in the room stopped momentarily to give that look they usually gave her when she says something morbid or freaky. They glanced back to the dining table and stared nauseatingly at dinner. None of it escaped the blood. It was like a grisly crime scene.
"Does that mean you're not going to eat your plate, Franky? Can I have your share?"
Again the room stopped with the exception of Chopper, who was pulling medical equipment from his tiny backpack. No one said anything to their captain.
Luffy blinked, waiting. "Well, can I?" he repeated himself. He didn't seem fazed by the bloodbath. In fact, he was still slobbering from the mouth.
Scratching his head, Franky slowly replied, "Sure, knock yourself out. I need to- check on the cola level." He left the table in a hurry.
"Yay!" A fork in each hand, Luffy grabbed his own plate first and downed the entire contents in seconds. Next he reached over for Franky's plate.
If the crew was disgusted at seeing their food covered in human blood, blood that came squirting out of someone's nose, it was nothing compared to watching their captain eat that food. Suddenly everybody had somewhere else to be. Even Robin excused herself, saying she needed to translate some long overdue work.
"I will turn in early tonight. I don't think my stomach could handle the protein from Sanji-san. If I had a stomach that is. Skull joke! Yoohoohoo!" Brook pushed the chair against the table before leaving.
"I'm not hungry. You can have mine too, Luffy. I'm going to water my green pops."
"Thanks, Usopp!" Luffy shouted, his mouth full with food and blood. Usopp became visibly pale as he backed away from the table.
The pirate cook would be so proud of Luffy at this moment. In his mind, it was a sin to waste food and Luffy was doing his part not to waste food. But unfortunately Sanji didn't see any of it. With hearts in his eyes and a big lecherous grin on his face, he was out cold, as pale as a ghost, lying in his own pool of blood. Chopper was frantically trying to stabilize him. The IV needle and blood bags appeared out of nowhere.
Zoro stood over them and shook his head. "Come on. Let's move him to the infirmary." He stooped down, grabbed Sanji roughly by the collar and slung him over his shoulder.
"Be careful!" Chopper protested. He ran to keep up with Zoro while wheeling the IV stand behind them. Luckily it was a short trip since the infirmary was right next to the galley.
And what was Nami doing this whole time? Too stunned or scared to say or do anything, she could only sit and watch mutely while everyone else recovered and left the galley. By some divine intervention, most of the blood missed her. Only a few drops hit her forearm and that was it. It was truly a miracle, considering Sanji was looking at her when he had his massive nosebleed.
Only the noise of Luffy chewing, slurping, and gulping broke her out of her daze. He was happily eating away without a care in the world. Then he noticed her watching him. "Oi, Nami. You want some? It's good." He waved a bloody drumstick at her.
"NO!" Nami snapped. She could have punched him for offering such a disgusting thing. An irony when she thought about it. She had criticized Luffy before for his gluttony and for stealing food from other people's plates. Insane, he chose now to be generous. Carefully she got to feet and started towards the exit, shaking her head.
"Where do you think you're going?" someone demanded angrily.
Nami bristled at the tone of his voice. She stopped and turned to face a peeved swordsman. He stood in the doorway of the infirmary, his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm going to take bath," she declared. "I don't know how you can act so calmly, but that was the worst nosebleed I've ever seen."
Zoro shrugged indifferently. "Chopper said it wasn't so bad. Not as bad as the one at Mermaid Cove. He'll survive."
"Mermaid Cove?" Not that Nami needed to ask what happened there. If their arrival to Fishman Island was anything to go by, she could easily imagine that pervert's reaction to the mermaids. Though curiously Sanji didn't have any nosebleeds during the banquet at Ryuga Palace, where there were scores of pretty mermaids.
"You should take responsibility," Zoro continued.
"Responsibility? For what? You can't say this is my fault."
Zoro only pointed to her bosom.
It only took her a split second to get his meaning and her was response was outrage. "If you didn't notice, Mr. Smarty-Pants, but I'm wearing a T-shirt. How is it my fault now?" Nami huffed at him. Honestly, even when she moved a little Sanji had nosebleeds. What was she suppose to do? Hide in her room all day? It wasn't fair.
"Your T-shirt wasn't covering enough."
"How?" Nami asked sincerely. She peered down to look at her fuchsia T-shirt. It was a Criminal design, one article of the clothing she selected when Pappug offered her anything in his Crimin clothing store. Admittedly, she picked out everything she could carry, but he did offer and he didn't give her a limit on how many items she could have. Right now, she didn't see any problem with her T-shirt. It was a little tight, but the neckline wasn't that low and it did cover her chest. "I don't understand."
Zoro rolled his eyes. "Try leaning forward," he instructed.
"Like this?" She bent forward, but didn't notice anything that could be accused of being suggestive.
"Lower. And reach out with your hand like you're grabbing for something."
Nami did as she was told, wondering if Zoro was trying to prank her, but that wasn't his habit. Suddenly it got a bit breezy. She looked down and got a good view of her bra and boobs. "Oh my god!" She straightened immediately and pressed her palm flat against her chest. "I didn't know my T-shirt was gaping that much."
"See. I told you," Zoro jeered, sounding very satisfied with himself. Nami smacked him on the head for that.
"That perv! He was peeking down my T-shirt."
"It was probably an accident, but it doesn't change the fact that you are responsible."
Her mouth opened and closed. "Am I hearing this right? You're letting Sanji off the hook, but you're blaming me." In her opinion, Zoro needed another smack to the head.
"No, but he's weak and dumb. You're not."
Nami threw her hands in the air. So being dumb was an excuse now. The logic of men never made any sense to her. She turned to only other person in the room who could come to her defense. "Luffy, do you have anything to say about this? Is this all my fault?"
"Huh?" His mouth full of food, Luffy peered up from his plate, looking confused. He swallowed his food before speaking again. "Did you say something?"
She groaned inwardly. Of course Luffy wasn't listening. When did he ever listen? She ignored him and turned back to Zoro. "So what do you expect me to do about this?"
"Take responsibility. Clean up your mess."
Nami became quiet and looked uneasily over the galley. Dirty dishes, used napkins and a stained table cloth. And of course, there was the blood on the floor, table, and chairs.
Clean up the mess, he said. She shuddered at the sight. "You got to be kidding me."
Zoro wasn't.
It wasn't as horrible as Nami imagined. Chopper showed up later after making sure Sanji was safe and helped her. He mopped the floor and wiped down the furniture. Being a doctor, he wasn't unnerved by the blood. Luffy was very good and licked the plates cleaned so Nami had an easier time washing the dishes. He even tried to help put them away, but he was so bloated from the food that he was more hindrance than help. Finally Nami shooed him away and he happily obeyed. Before he left, she evilly suggested that he find Zoro to play with. He took up her suggestion and ran out energetically.
Chopper had gathered all the linen that needed to be laundered and carried them off to washroom, leaving Nami sitting exhausted on the chair. She made little drink for herself and was snacking on some cookies she found in the cupboard.
She looked down at her Criminal T-shirt and frowned. All this trouble because of her T-shirt. If she was wearing her bikini top, it would have made sense, but it was her T-shirt. She was more annoyed than anything else.
From the corner of her eyes, she spotted something odd in the trash. Upon a closer look, she discovered it was a small cardboard box filled with cigarettes, King Ground, Sanji's favorite brand. It must have fallen out of his coat pocket. How it ended up in the trash, she wasn't so sure, but she could imagine Chopper throwing them away.
She snatched it from the trash bin and played with it, turning it over and over as she contemplated. Smoking was his addiction. She didn't know a day when he didn't have a cigarette in his mouth. Better to be nice and return them to him.
Without really paying attention to the noise she was making, she threw the remaining dishes in the sink and marched herself to the infirmary. She was about to toss the pack of cigarette on Chopper's desk and leave when she noticed Sanji. He was sleeping in the bed, his coat, tie, and shirt removed. His complexion was sanguine again. A gauze was wrapped around his left arm where Chopper stuck him with the IV needle. The IV stand was there, but the blood bags were absent.
On an impulse, she grabbed the swivel chair and wheeled it to the bedside and sat down. She looked him over and noted how comfortable and peaceful he looked. So relax. He had no idea what was about to happen to him.
Feeling vindictive, Nami pinched his nose. Pinched his nose hard. Painfully hard. Sanji woke up in no time.
He coughed and struggled against her hold until she let go. Then he gingerly touched his nose and stared into Nami's eyes, looking confused and maybe a little frightened. "Nami-san?"
"Sanji-kun, you're awake. Feeling better?" Her voice was dangerously saccharine.
He could only nod his head. Moments later, after he summed enough courage, he asked, "What happened?"
"You don't remember? You had a nosebleed. It was spectacular. Blood everywhere. Dinner was canceled."
Sanji gasped, his eyes shot wide open in horror.
Nami grinned and patted his cheek. "I lied. Dinner wasn't canceled. Luffy finished it all." Not that that put him at ease.
"I should prepare something else for the crew." He began to rise when she pushed him down.
"Don't bother. We lost our appetite."
"Oh." He looked so glum at the thought of ruining dinner, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
There was a long silence.
"What was the last thing you remembered before you passed out?"
Sanji squirmed uneasily under her gaze. His eyes lingered briefly over her T-shirt before he dropped his eyes elsewhere. "I could have been looking at you."
"You mean you were looking at these," Nami blurted out loud. She pulled down her neckline a smidgen, just enough for him to see the lace of her bra. No need to go full out. She didn't want to cause another medical emergency for Chopper.
The results were immediate. Sanji sucked in his breath and slapped both his hands over his nose. A tiny trickle of blood dripped down his face. He didn't try to avert his eyes. His eyes were glued to her bosom. His expression was a strange mixture of panic and lechery.
Nami released her T-shirt and handed him a napkin, which he accepted sheepishly. Then she leaned back against the chair, folded her arms and watched him as he cleaned his nose. Her finger was tapping her elbow in annoyance. Sanji became nervous and tried to tug the bed sheet over himself, but only managed to bring it up to his chin. He could tell he was in trouble.
She sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"
"We could go on a date!" he proposed hopefully.
"No."
Sanji made a sad face.
"That's not what I meant. Your nosebleeds. What am I going to do with your nosebleeds? They are a serious problem."
"I am very sorry, Nami-san." He seemed very contrite. "I've been practicing very hard to keep it under control."
"Oh really?" she remarked, sounding very skeptical. She didn't notice any practice of restraint. Just a lot of the same wiggling dances and floating hearts from him on Fishman Island. "How?"
"Well," he hesitated. His hands disappeared under the bed cover. He fumbled for something underneath and then he bought out some photographs.
Nami took them and shuffled through them. A lot of pictures of scantily clad mermaids. A few of them posing provocatively. Typical. It didn't surprise her that he had them. She was about to return them to him when she saw there were pictures of her and Robin. Her eyes narrowed as she examined them.
There was a picture of Robin reading in the library, another of her brushing her hair in the women's quarter and another of her watering her flowers in the garden. Nothing too insinuating. But there were more pictures of her. Shots of her in her underwear, of her changing her clothes, of her in the bathtub taking a bubble bath, and lastly, a butt shot of her bent over, looking in her treasure chest. Who took these pictures?!
She glared at Sanji. He shrank back. "Who gave you these pictures?" she breathed angrily.
He didn't say anything.
Nami stood up and leaned over Sanji, repeating her question. "Who gave you these pictures?" she enunciated.
Again no answer.
His lack of a response only pissed her off. She climbed on top of him and grabbed his shoulders. "Sanji-kun. I'm going ask one more time and you better tell me. Who gave you these pictures?" Her hands inched towards his neck. She was going to strangle him if he didn't give her a name. "Was it Brook? Usopp? No, it was Franky!" She knew it. Never trust a man wearing a speedo.
"Chopper," Sanji squeaked. "Chopper gave them to me. It's his therapy."
"Chopper?" Nami paused. Now that she thought about it, it made sense. Besides Robin, Chopper was only other person that could have been with her in all those pictures. He was such a sweet and innocent kid, like a little brother she never had. She didn't shy away from undressing in front him and didn't think twice about letting him in the bathroom with her. But where did he get the camera? How did he take pictures of her without her noticing? Puzzling indeed.
Whatever the answer, in the end, it probably didn't matter. Lovable Chopper only had good intentions in mind. But it was obvious she needed to have a word with him about boundary and female privacy.
Sanji shifted uncomfortably, interrupting Nami's thoughts. She glanced down and saw that his face was pink. Her hands were around his neck. She calmed down and loosened her grip. "You're not in trouble, but I'm confiscating these." She removed the pictures of her and pocketed those in her trousers. Then she returned the other photographs to Sanji.
Speechless, he gaped helplessly at his remaining photos. Nami swore he was on the verge of crying. The man looked absolutely devastated. He was like that for several minutes.
Honestly, he needed to let go of those pictures. She wasn't going to give them back no matter how much he pined for them. Instead, she handed him his cigarette pack. "Here, your cigarettes. I found them in the trash."
He stared blankly at them before he accepted them. "Thank you, Nami-san," he said gloomily. He wasn't going to cry, but he still looked depressed.
Nami sighed and made her decision. "I'll tell you what. I'll help with your therapy."
Instantly Sanji snapped out of his funk and looked curiously at her. "Help me?" he whispered.
She couldn't believe she just offered to help him with his therapy, but she continued. "I'll give you something better to look at than those pictures."
His jaw dropped and his eyes turned as huge as dinner plates.
"But on one condition." Nami lifted a finger and shook it at him. "No blood. I see one drop of blood and it's over."
Sanji clasped her hands and stared lovingly into her eyes. "Nami-san is so kind and generous."
About half an hour later, after a couple false starts, Nami had to lay out a few ground rules.
Number one: no touching! Despite telling him this, his hands had a mind of their own. Slapping at them didn't deter them, they only kept creeping back. Charging an exorbitant fee for each touch didn't help either. Finally she ended up tying his hands to the bed posts with the medical gauze. Sanji appeared unsure, but soon forgot about his restriction when she climbed back on top of him.
Number two: no blood! She already mentioned it before, but felt it was vital to state it again. If she saw one tiny, little, miniscule drop of blood, she was out of there. No second chance. No do-over. Sanji seemed to take this to heart and vigorously nodded his head in agreement.
Number three: no funny faces! This rule was hard to explain to Sanji. He probably had no idea he made funny faces whenever he had a perverted thought. Nami didn't think he could keep a straight face, but told him to be serious anyways. This was for therapy, not a peepshow. Yeah, right. Who was she fooling?
Again she couldn't believe she was doing this and not charging him for it. Nami gestured to him to be quiet. He settled down and waited obediently like a dog.
The easiest thing to do was to pull down her T-shirt and flash him a little cleavage. It should be over in no time and then she could get out of there and burn those photographs. Nami tugged down the neckline and leaned forward to give him a tiny glimpse. Then she straightened back up, expecting a stream of blood, except there was no nosebleed. She squinted her eyes to be sure, but his face was clean. She only saw his dopey grin.
Maybe she flashed him too fast. She tried again and held it longer for him to look. His reaction was apparent. Hearts in his eyes, he tried to reach her. "Nami-swwaann!" he cried. He struggled against the gauze.
But still no blood. What was going on? Before he couldn't stop the nosebleeds, now nothing. Was she losing her touch? Time to move to the next level. In one fluid motion, she grabbed the hem of the T-shirt with both hands and lifted the shirt off. She tossed the garment away to the far corner of the room. At this point, Sanji was hyperventilating, his face red.
"You like?" she asked, presenting to him her lacy black bra.
He nodded slowly. "Me like. Me like a lot."
Then Nami frowned at Sanji. "I commend you on your willpower, Sanji-kun. I'm surprised you made it this far, but doesn't it defeat the purpose if you close your eyes?"
His eyes squeezed shut and his face scrunched in concentration, he panted uneasily. "I need a moment please."
"Don't take too long."
Feeling particularly devilish, Nami undid the back clasp and flung her bra at his face. His eyes popped open to see what had hit him. Sanji looked confused at the undergarment lying on his face, like he couldn't understand what it was. A few seconds later, he choked back a cry when he realized what it was and what it meant. By then it was too late.
Nami knocked the bra off his face and landed on top of him, squishing her boobs against his chest. Sanji gasped from the impact. Watching him squirm so vulnerable and trapped, she couldn't help but smile to herself. He looked so deliciously yummy and she was hungry.
"You've come a long way, but how far can you go?" she murmured into his ear. She nibbled his neck, her fingers dancing over his sinewy frame. She could hear the strain of the bed as his arms pulled against his binds. He was quite sensitive and responsive, which only drove her further with her titillation.
"Nami-san!" he wailed.
She eased onto her side, her finger playfully tracing his jawline. "Is there a problem?" she voiced demurely. She pressed her lips into his shoulder and started planting kisses, working her way up until she reached his mouth, where her lips hovered over his. "I can stop if you want."
"No!" he quavered in a panic-stricken voice. "I-I mean, I want to get better. We should continue with the therapy."
Nami considered him and smiled. "Yes, let's continued." She leaned down to take his mouth.
And to make a long story short, the white dwarf accretes hydrogen and helium to the surface. Compacted, compressed, and heated to very high temperatures, it rapidly ignites to create a large nuclear explosion. Enormous amount of energy is liberated, blowing away the remaining gases and producing a bright outburst of light.
Early in the morning, Nami crept out of the infirmary and tiptoed back to her quarters. It had been a long and tiring night, but she was confident Sanji was finally cure of his nosebleeds.
Little did she know, he would continue to have nosebleeds for the rest of his life.