"Okay. We split up, and we meet here when we're done," Nami announces. "It's a big mall, so it makes sense that we explore as much as we can."

"I'm so happy!" Chopper squeals. "I'll go look for medicine! And I'll stick with Zolo."

Zolo grins. "Nice. I'm sure they have a good selection of swords too. I'll make sure you won't get lost."

"That's not what Chopper means," I say, but Zolo is already heading off with Chopper scrambling behind him.

"I'm looking for meat!" Luffy exclaims. He runs off before Nami can stop him.

"I'll go with you," Sanji volunteers. His eyes are swimming with love.

"Fine. But you'll have to carry my stuff." Nami flashes me a smile. "You okay with going by yourself, Usopp?"

"Yeah! I want to see if they have anything good." After they leave, I head for the directory. There are so many colors and sounds that it's hard not to be overwhelmed. The hall is teemed with people. Some lines even form all the way to the restroom.

I follow my gut instincts and wound up lost. I don't remember where we were even supposed to meet up. But right now I'm focused solely on splurging on unnecessary items because after all the crazy things I went through, I deserved it.

Tucked in the corner is a quaint little store—and a bit out of place. A bit rustic and worn, it has a musty atmosphere like a library. Customers stream in and out with black tote bags on the arms. Even though they're chattering noisily, this section of the mall is quieter than the rest.

The Black Katz.

"They misspelled 'cats,'" I say to no one in particular. Some girls come out with felted cat beanies on their heads.

"Hi! How much did that cost?" I ask them.

"They're having a sale!" one of the girls says. She looks at her friend and smiles. "That guy at the register was pretty cute, huh?"

"He's a little too old for you," the other snickers.

I casually walk away. The store has a musty smell like warm milk and wool. The items are cat-themed, ranging from their cat-bags to cat-socks. Even cat-shirts and cat-stationary can be found.

The employee looks up at me as I approach. He gives me a wide, cat-like smile as he brushes his long hair from his eyes. Their uniform looks pretty sharp too—crisp black shirts with pink, knitted aprons. "Hiya! How can I help ya?" He is slender, but walks with a slightly hunched back.

"Hi. I'm looking for the beanie? For my friend," I add quickly. But the weird thing was, the employee looks strangely familiar. I can't really place my finger on it.

"Oooh! It's right there, in the back." He points with one long finger. "I hope your 'friend' likes it!"

"T-thank you." I scoot away.

"Nyo problem!"

The back is almost empty—those people must have swiped all the good ones. All they have are pink beanies. A man working the loom glances up at me, as if silently judging my virility. His heart-rimmed glasses glint with amusement as he tips his fedora. And he has the strangest beard ever—it is blue and striped.

"It's okay," he whispers with a sympathetic smile. "Lots of guys don't want to look bad in front of their girlfriends. But pink's really manly, dude. Look at me! My boss lets me knit all these things because it's my favorite hobby."

My cheeks feel all warm. "Uh… okay."

Then the man holds up another one. "Here you go. I see the conflict in your eyes. I'll make your ordeal easier to deal with." I receive the black beanie reluctantly. "Groovy. Just remember to always be yourself. Don't live up to stereotypes." The man with heart-shaped glasses and beard stand up and does a weird sliding motion, like he's walking backwards.

I slip away before anyone sees me with him. Another employee directs me to the line—a good-natured, large man with beady eyes and a wide grin. "Oh! I thought we were out of those!" Then he glances at the dancing man, who is attracting a decent crowd. "Oh, I see. Django knew you were special. Congratulations!"

Django?

"Hey, Buchi!" the slender one says, shuffling over. "Your apron's undone again! Lemme help."

"Aw. Thanks, Sham!"

Buchi? Sham?

Before I can process what is going on, I'm at the front of the register. "240 berries," the cashier says with a deep, bored voice. I fish for the money and look up.

Holy shi-"C-Captain Kuro?" I squeak. No doubt about it! If it weren't for the black cat beanie on his head or the pink apron around his waist, I would've walked out without a second thought. But those cold eyes and scorn never changed.

"Usopp," he states nonchalantly without looking at me. "Cover your mouth. If you don't have any more business here, then stand aside." His hands pound the keys, and then he sweeps my beanie in that little tote bag. He waves me over.

My voice catches in my throat. I scoot over to the side. He continues the same motions to the other customers in that dry, unenthusiastic drawl. But he's very efficient, sliding in coins like he's dealing casino chips.

"Usopp," he says, eyes still ahead. "You're still here?"

"Um. Yeah. You told me to stay here."

Kuro slams the register, surprising a few customers. "Did your… friends come as well?"

"Um… yeah."

He purses his lips. "Where are they?"

"I got lost," I say slowly. Why is he so interested? He speaks with his back towards me, but his shoulders are tense, as if he's anticipating an attack.

Then he turns to me, eyes narrowed. "Then it's your first time?" Surprisingly, his fingers are dancing across the register's keys without him looking.

I just nod. It's always hard to read his expression. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. "Would you like me to show you around?"

"HUH?"

"Don't get me wrong: I'm not trying to be kind." His smile disappears into a smirk. "But I have time to kill—" that word sends shivers down my neck "—and it's better than having your friends leave without you, hmm?"

I hesitate. On one hand, I would rather beg to Zolo than team up with the man who made my life miserable; but on the other, I knew he was absolutely, resolutely, and frustratingly correct. And I had no chance navigating this labyrinth by myself.

"Fine," I say finally. "But I don't trust you."

His smirk widens. "Fair enough." He hands the last customer their merchandise and steps out of the counter. "Django! Watch over the store." His crew drops whatever they were doing.

"Sure, boss!" The bearded man dances over to the register. "Wow! It's like I'm Captain all over again."

"Sham! Buchi! I'll be back." Then Kuro springs up and seemingly flies to the door. He brushes past the line of gawking customers, and I sprint to catch up. "Don't overwork yourself again."

"Enjoy your break, boss!" The brothers chirp.

"You really care?" I gasp. We are well outside the store. I bend over to catch my breath while Kuro frowns down on me.

"I don't want to be cleaning up the mess," he says, undoing his apron and slinging it over his shoulder. He pockets his cat beanie and runs a hand through his hair, mussing up the gel holding it in place. Unlike the other employees, he wears an ironed white shirt tucked into his pants—without the store logo on the back.

"The Black Katz?" I begin. "It's not even spelled right."

He sighs, as if he'd been through this for the millionth time. "It wasn't my idea. They wanted to engage in retail. Sham and Buchi came up with the name—they thought it'll stand out more. And Django designed the merchandise." He nods at my bag. "Like the cat beanie you just bought."

I put it on. The wool is warm and soft. "It's really nice."

"Hmm."

Then he gestures for me to follow him. He heads down a crowded hallway, seamlessly weaving in and out of the human traffic. He's quite tall, so it's easier to catch up to him.

"You weren't surprised to see me," I pant. Kuro gives me an impatient glance, but he slows down considerably.

"I see a lot of people," he says matter-of-factly. "It's only time I'll run into you, or the other Straw Hats. But I didn't expect you to find m—their store."

"Why are you working here?"

Kuro gives me a wry smirk. "We don't always plunder riches. If you always focused on that, you'd be lacking as a pirate." I can't help but feel that his words are directed at something else. He then adjusts his glasses. "Unfortunately, that includes waiting for idiots to get their wallets. We—They've been busy with sales recently. Apparently, those cat-themed items are really popular."

It feels so weird to converse with Kuro, as if we were normal business partners getting coffee. He doesn't have that big bag that contains his claws. Judging from what he told me, business was booming. And yet…

"So why are you—" and it hits me. "You're shirking work!" I exclaim with a wicked grin. "That's why you wanted to show me around!" He twitches at that statement, but it happens so quickly before he turns to me with a threatening smile.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kuro snaps, but his cheeks flush ever so slightly. Bingo. "Out of the little kindness in my heart, I graciously volunteered my time to help you. One more baseless assumption and I'll show you to the nearest hospital, Usopp."

"Yessir. Catptain Kuro," I mumble.

"Don't call me that," he mutters. Kuro points to the brightly painted hallway off the side. "Those are the restrooms. They have the latest technology so that you can watch cassettes while doing your business. And the new toilets even wash—"

"Cassettes? Who watches cassettes nowadays?" I cut in. "And those toilets are pretty popular with the richer folks."

He gives me a particularly nasty glare. "I believe you can also watch DVDs."

I can't help but smile. "No one does that anymore, Ku-Captain." It just doesn't feel right saying his name.

Kuro frowns at that word but doesn't say anything. He gives me a half-hearted sigh. "Sham and Buchi also told me that, too. We still stock cassettes and skip-resistant CDs in the store, and they usually don't sell as well as I remembered." He crosses over to another part. The stores stock a colorful range of items from perfume to exotic fruits to home appliances. There are indoor playgrounds for children and photo booths. I can tell he's moving at what he considers a slow speed, but I needed to always sprint to catch him.

"Is there anything in particular you want to see?" he finally says, noting my heavy pants. I collapse into the chairs and stare up at the sun-lit ceiling.

My stomach growls. I've lost track of time, but I knew it is still morning. I've eaten nothing but Sanji's breakfast before coming here. And the smell of French Fries is irresistible. "Are there good places with fried chicken?"

Kuro crosses his arms. "I'm not sure about good, but I know of a place," he says reluctantly, as if he wants to say more but thought better. "It's not very far."

I sit up. "What's it called?"

"Big Boy Buggy's," he says, his voice strained. I snort loudly. Kuro tries to look mad, but his lips are twitching. "The price is quite cheaper than other places. You might like it, if you're into that sort of thing."

"Buggy? Like Buggy the Clown?" I follow him through a less crowded hallway. Buggy doesn't look like much of a threat, but I'm surprised he's here. But then again, Kuro wasn't surprised to see me. "If Buggy's here, then who else is here?"

"Don't worry about it," Kuro says. He shoots a quick glance over his shoulder. "As long as you know where you're going, you won't meet bump into any… surprises."

I almost thank him for sticking with me. Almost. "What do you mean?"

"Yes, Captain Kuro. What do you mean by that?"

The hairs on my neck jams into my skin like pins and needles. That voice… that slow, heavy drawl, hardened after years of smoking very expensive cigars. The voice grates against my ears like the sharp particles of sand sliding down an open wound.

Why the halafamfam is he here?

Kuro turns back. "Don't you have work to do?" he says lightly, nonchalantly as if greeting a business partner. "Or are you shirking work again, eh, Sir Crocodile?"

The man himself grins. "It takes one to know one," he replies. Then he feasts his cold eyes on me.

"Who are you?" he says.

I feel my breakfast threatening to make an appearance.