Chapter One – Somewhere in the Grand Line
In what seemed to be the universe's greatest joke, the day of the move happened to land on the day of a storm – a huge one. Rain pelts at the windows, slaps against the wipers' heroic defence and makes an irritable – but tolerable – melody by throwing itself on the roof of the car. Inside, thankfully, is toasty and warm. The heater is switched on but Nami still chose to keep her black blazer (which matched her white blouse, grey trousers and boots. She'd deliberated over the white blouse in this godforsaken storm but eventually decided the blouse was her best bet at landing this job, especially if it was wet and clinging. Nojiko had given a sour look at her for mentioning that though, wryly remarking, 'if that happens, don't take the job and get out') loosely draped across her shoulders, fiddling with the folded, sewn down cuffs.
"OK, I admit you were right." Nojiko had cranked the headlights on high, but still peers out into the gale, both hands on a death grip around the wheel, "I shouldn't have trusted that weatherman."
"He looked overly cheery when mentioning 'sunny and clear skies'," Nami replies.
"The bastard." At that, Nami laughs quietly, the sound drowned out by the rain outside.
"Where was this place again?" Nojiko asks for what seemed to be the hundredth time, peering ahead at the oncoming street sign, "Anywhere near some… Windmill Village?"
Nami shrugs, "I only know Roguetown." She no longer even had to look at the paper crumpled between her fingers with the address printed in bold, as if mocking her, but she did anyway, if for just something to do.
'East Blue District Police Station – 16 Minister Street, Roguetown.
Interviewee's appointment: 5:30PM
Signed: Chief Smoker'
'5:30PM' was scrawled in thick, black lines by someone with a heavy hand. Nami glances at the time on the dashboard: 5:00PM.
Nojiko deliberates for a few seconds, tapping the wheel with one long finger as she carefully navigated the drenched road. Finally she pulls over, came to a stop and shifts to park, reaching into the back seat to grab her coat, "I'm going to ask for directions. I'll be back." Without pause, she wrenches the door open and stumbles out into the downpour, ducking her head as her blue hair is immediately soaked. Nami caught a glimpse of the scenery outside. A bright green sign that read 'Makino's Café' stood out, seeming to glow cheerily despite its dreary surroundings. Nami found herself smiling despite herself before the door was slammed shut again.
Waiting in the warm shell of the car took fairly long. Nami breathes humid air and wished she had thought to bring a drink. Everything else, however, managed to be stuffed into the car; the few possessions they truly owned. Clothes, books and other household items were bought on allowance for the purpose of keeping up appearances. A portion went towards bills as well and other basic necessities. The remainder of cash hadn't exactly left much breathing room for new items, if any.
Arlong. The name bitterly stained her mind and remained there like a virus. When Arlong had relocated, of course they'd had to as well. Posting out huge wads of cash hadn't been an ideal situation, especially if the post delayed or messed up delivery, and Arlong agreed. Of course he also did not trust them as much as they didn't trust him. He'd spared a bit of cash for moving out but hadn't mentioned they'd be relocating into one of the most expensive regions in East Blue, putting a huge strain on the already tight budget. Nami supposes she should just think it was fortunate Arlong didn't feel like uprooting them all to the luxurious Mariejois, the capital city and government sector. Even he wasn't that reckless. As it was, they were now all plonked in a web of sprawling suburbs which made up a portion of the Grand Line region, essentially living on the bare minimum.
I hope the house is nice, Nami allows herself to think when the door is suddenly wrenched open again, making her jump. A figure leapt into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut behind him.
Wait, 'him'?
"Who the hell—?" Nami shouts, flinging her blazer aside. Her fist came up as fast as the man's arm did, creating an awkward stalemate over the central console of the car. The guy faces her with an expression of mild shock. His arm is seriously no joke, and Nami prided herself on having an iron fist. His forearm feels like brick under her knuckles.
"…What are you doing?" both spoke at the same time. His deep, casual voice is genuinely inquisitive and hers an angry outburst.
What am I doing? YOU broke into my car! Nami opens her mouth to say exactly that when another commotion catches her attention.
Suddenly, the back door bursts open and a chorus of laughter and yelling follows the two figures that jump in the back, soaking the seats and making their jackets crumple, producing a scratchy, squeaky, unpleasant sound. The rain pelts their jackets with deafening noise until one figure – which, Nami could see, turned out to be her sister – wrenches the door shut. Finally the car has silence but for the cheery hum of the heater.
"Nami, what are you doing?" cries Nojiko, staring in bemusement at the scene, "Attacking him?"
"Who is 'him'?" Nami retorted, looking between the blank driver and her sister, "What the hell, Noji—"
"How funny!" the second figure from the back seat laughs heartily, an oddly childlike voice. Nami twists her head around and glimpses what appears to be a child sprawling on two of the backseats. He is lanky underneath his bulky attire (and for some reason he is still wearing shorts) but of average height. His face is open in a huge grin, squashing his cheeks against his eyes to form arcs. Messy black hair splays limply across his forehead, covered with a straw hat, and that is covered by the hood of his rain jacket. With a final appreciative noise, he reaches up and pulls out his hat, examining it for damage. Finding none, he smiles again and placed it carefully back atop his head. Finally, he notices Nami staring curiously over her seat.
"Hi, I'm Luffy!" he pronounces loudly, grinning that huge smile again.
Nami isn't even looking at him anymore, but at her sister. Nojiko meets her gaze, shrugs and holds up a hand in an action of, 'what was I supposed to do?' Her gold bangle shimmers blindingly with water drops under the car lights. Nami unconsciously touches her own matching one on her wrist out of habit, finally pulling out of the stalemate. After a momentary pause, she turns and meets Luffy's face, whose expression didn't falter in that momentary thought exchange.
"Luffy, right? I'm Nami." She gives one last pissed off look at Nojiko and then meets the eyes of the man beside her. To her shock, he isn't really a man at all, but a teenager like her, maybe one to three years older at most. Her eye went down to his arm which he just casually rested on the steering wheel after their confrontation.
She clears her throat, pushing away images of a bodybuilder under this guy's raincoat, "I'm sorry about that. Let's do this over." She stuck out her hand over the centre console again, "Nami. You are?"
He seems amused, having clearly noticed her assessment. He's more perceptive than the other one, Nami thought grudgingly, a small blush colouring her cheeks. If he asked, she'll blame the heater. He was quiet though as he took her hand, "Ace. Nice to meet you."
"Ace, do you want to tell me what's going on?"
"Nami, cut it out," Nojiko groans from the backseat, "I said I was going for directions and I scored two guides. Happy? We'll probably get to your interview on time now." She paused and spoke to Ace, "Ace, please?"
"Sure," Ace easily manoeuvres their car in the rain, driving lazily with one hand compared to both Nami and Nojiko's strict ten-and-two style. He still effortlessly manages to turn smoothly through the winding streets.
"You're going to the police station for a job?" Nami caught Luffy's eye from the backseat as he asks, "Why are you going to work there?"
"Just another place to work," Nami replies curtly, avoiding the question automatically. His straightforwardness unnerves her.
"Are you going to be a police officer?" Luffy had suddenly vaulted forward against his seatbelt, putting his chin against the shoulder of her seat, his expression one of childlike interest, "That's interesting!"
"Hey!" Nami partly turns and twists her arm to push against his forehead, "That's dangerous. Sit back." He just laughs against her hand, and the sound mellows something in her. It sounds completely delighted, a sound of pure happiness. She glances at his face stretched in a wide grin and blinked, her face rendered completely still. Out of habit, her eye flicks to Nojiko, whose expression is one of smug satisfaction. She raises an eyebrow and mouths, understand now? She inclines her head to Luffy's grinning face and once again raises her hands. 'What was I supposed to do?'
"Just sit," Nami pushes his head back, avoiding her sister's eye and he playfully agreed, sitting back obediently like a child, though a second later he was restless again in boredom. This time he struck up a conversation with Nojiko who answered his questions briefly and vaguely – 'Just today…', 'for work; we move around a lot', 'somewhere in the middle of town. I don't know the exact address…' She did it perfectly of course; evading details, playing down suspicions (not that Luffy appeared to have any), acting casual and cool. Nojiko is always the calm bluffer. As she listens, Nami reminded herself to relax and she refocusses on the road around her, as much as she could see out of the blurry glass anyway, trying to memorise the location. Nami couldn't concentrate.
She still is not entirely sure what to make of the whole situation. Isn't this supposed to be weird? A quick glance up at the rear-view mirror told her Nojiko seems perfectly fine, smiling even at Luffy's bizarre behaviour (now he's tracing images on the window's condensation and chortling that unique laugh). Beside her, Ace smiles good-naturedly, emphasising his cheeks and the light scattering of freckles across them.
"Yeah, he's a little kid."
"Oh," Nami rights herself, cursing Ace who seems to pick up on every little movement she did. He hadn't said much, if at all while driving. He is a natural at it so she doubts he is really concentrating on the task. Rather, he appeared to be listening, observing silently over the happenings in the car. She thought she saw him snicker a bit and his cheek lifts in a smile at her fluster.
"Are you paying more attention to me or the road?" she jokes and pokes his bicep. Bodybuilder, definitely bodybuilder.
"I would pay attention if there was a road to see," he replies, easily returning her banter.
"Point."
Ace laughs this time, a deeper, sexier sound than Luffy's infectious one, and Nami smiles, playing along, naturally asserting control over the situation once more. The rest of the trip through the drowning roads and darkened city is spent in easy, flirtatious talk. Nami knew she is a natural charismatic individual. She knew the right expressions to show, the right words to say and the right attitude to uphold, especially with those who felt a physical attraction as well. Opposed to Nojiko, who cleverly evades questions in speech, Nami controls the conversation to avoid that bridge altogether – always managing to convince others that the grass is greener over her dying hill.
Ace, nor Luffy, is any different.
Nami is, after all, always the confident bluffer.
The 'police station' is an understatement bordering on absurdity. Nami supposes she should have expected something of a grander scale than her previous modest hometown station in the city. The building is several stories high and sports a very modern design with huge sheets of metal and glass. Automatic doors hiss quietly as Nami enters. Soft carpet mutes her steps towards the front desk and ends abruptly where the reception area cordons off to a bank of elevators. In the deep silence and in the claustrophobic elevator, Nami's footsteps sound magnified, second only to the beat of her heart which always thumps loudly in her chest in places like this, despite her many years' experience of them.
"This is no different," she mouths to herself, paranoid of any audio-sensitive technology in the elevator.
Again, she manages to find the cold metal of her bangle once under her blazer's sleeve before the doors slide open and she quickly drops both arms to her sides.
Body language is key, she exhales once, same as she always did, and purposefully walks out of the metal box, her strides long, her posture straight and head held up. She passes few people going about their business and meets each of their eyes, cataloguing familiar faces to recognise later. At some point, she stops a smart-looking young woman with navy hair and asks her for directions.
"Captain Smoker? Just down this way," the woman politely steps out of the way, revealing a noticeably wide path, "Door at the very end."
"Thank you," Nami smiles politely and moves forward, "I'm Nami, by the way."
"Oh, uh, Tashigi," the woman abruptly introduces her, smiling sheepishly, "Sorry." She looks at Nami then, being about the same height and cocks her head to the side. Her black eyes, behind red glasses, suddenly flicker with something like recognition, "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"Must be your imagination. We've never met." Thump, thump, thump, thump…
"I see," at Tashigi's acceptance, Nami physically feels her heart settle and she quickly escapes into the wide corridor with a casual 'don't want to be late for my interview'.
This floor is in fact comprised mainly of wide corridors, lit by harsh fluorescent lighting which reflects off the industrial colours of black, grey and white. The doors open inwards to several rooms, mainly office types that have a warmer colour palette than the corridor outside, from what Nami could see through the bulletproof glass panels. Many desks have a framed picture on it among the paperwork or one of those 'Best Dad/Mum in the World' printed mugs.
Nami forces her eyes forward and keeps walking, letting the warm colours disappear from her mind.
Holy shit, I might not actually get this job.
Nami sits precariously perched on the edge of her seat, nervous beyond belief since bluffing her way through introductions. Across from her, the captain of the building, Smoker, locked her eyes with an intimidating gaze. His steel grey eyes gave away nothing. The strong, muscled build of the man is evident even under a thick coat he wears over a light, plain shirt. In front of him sat the neat pile of her resume which he'd read thoroughly while she sat there, feeling the walls of her confidence shatter. This man is definitely not going to be easy to win over.
"Your credentials are unique," he finally spoke, tapping two cigars at once on a glass ashtray affixed to his large desk. His voice is actually steady despite his apparent major smoking. Good ventilation in the room mercifully prevents Nami from suffocating on the fumes. She suspects that might be intentional.
"Unique?" she carefully ventures, feeling a knot coil in her stomach.
"Your education in particular is very… diverse," Smoker flips to a page and reads off the words, "You were home-schooled for a period of time then went to six different schools in no more than seven years. You never spent two years at any one." He reads down the list, "All of them are more prestigious as they go." His eyes meet hers, "Any reason you frequently changed out of so many stable schools with no track record?"
A background check. Of course.
"I was home-schooled when I was younger up until I was ten," Nami replies in rehearsed speech, "My guardian passed away. My older sister and I were placed in foster homes up until I was sixteen when she got custody. It's an unsteady situation; we've had to move around a lot."
Smoker raises an eyebrow, "And you are how old?"
Normally this is when things got tricky. "Seventeen."
It didn't take Smoker long to do the math, "You're under the custody of your nineteen year old sister." It is not a judgemental statement; a mere curious one. After he spoke, he took a long drag of his cigars, exhaling a trail of smoke to the side, never breaking eye contact.
"Yes. It's just the two of us," she adds on the last bit for good measure to deflect any other questions of her family life.
"Yet you manage to afford attendance for all of these schools. You must have had fortunate foster families."
"Scholarships mostly," Nami shrugs, "My sister and I have always had jobs since we were able so that helps too."
Smoker gives no indication of emotion apart from a slight nod. Carefully he arranges the papers to be straight again, deliberately taking his time as his expression seems somewhere between wariness and suspicion. Obviously, Nami is not his usual candidate who applies. She felt herself brush the cold ring of metal against her wrist again, wondering how much her background check gave away.
Not much, she convinces herself, we never told anybody.
Still, there were lots of other little things on there that might be incriminating against her. She did use to steal books when she was little, for example. She is hoping her young age had managed to scrape her out of being recorded for it, although it had gotten both Nojiko and her kicked out of that foster family.
As she thought back on that, Nami could see Smoker's expression slowly inching towards suspicion and thus, a conclusion. She has a hunch it would not be in her favour.
Here we go. Nami places both hands against the surface of the table. She leans forward emphatically, not for showing anything (as soon as she'd seen Smoker, she immediately ruled out any purpose of playing out her joke to Nojiko and kept her blazer on), but to push her point, "Look, Captain Smoker, I know I am capable of this job. I will be here every shift I have. I'm willing to work anytime, except for school hours. I will work hard at anything you ask me to do." She inhales, remaining in that position, trying to will Smoker with her eyes. He meets her gaze squarely, holding it for several seconds. Finally, he sits back and took another long drag.
"Let me make something clear. I am not a sympathiser. I will not have any reservation of removing you should you not do the job correctly. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tomorrow after your school day ends then. Which one are you attending?"
"Grand Line Academy." Nami pauses and decides she may as well keep being truthful, "My first day's tomorrow."
Smoker taps off his cigars again, "The Academy, huh?" His other hand taps the resume with her list of past schools, "My point stands."
Outside, parked at the curb of the sidewalk, impossibly wedged between two other cars, is Nojiko's old vehicle. Ace had habitually left the engine running, confident that a short job interview shouldn't take too long. However, Nojiko had politely asked him to kill it as soon as Nami had entered the building. So the atmosphere would have been silent…
…if not for Monkey D. Luffy.
"Whoa, Ace, look at this!" Luffy exclaims, free of his seatbelt, which allows him to clamber onto the middle seat and lean over to stare out of Nojiko's window at the massive building, "It's huge!"
"You've been here before!" Ace turns around, yelling in a part-joking manner, "We both have!"
"Yeah, but…" Luffy complains, "That time we were dragged here by Grandpa so it doesn't count!"
"That makes no sense."
"Wait, your grandfather?" Nojiko leans back, allowing a better view for Luffy who crows excitedly, "Your grandfather dragged you to a police station?"
"A prank that got a bit out of hand," Ace replies, "In junior year, we let off a huge stink bomb in the middle of school… during classes… then Luffy pulled the fire alarm 'cause we were worried the science lab might actually blow up, but honestly it wasn't even that bad! We didn't know Grandpa was in town that day and he immediately knew it was us. He's a commander of the main police force headquarters in Mariejois. Sometimes he comes and visits us."
"A comman—" Nojiko's eyes went wide for a second when suddenly the sound of rain assaults her ears as the passenger door opens.
"I got the job!" Nami's voice yells. The door slams and her sister's face beams at Nojiko's under a tangle of wet orange hair, "Nojiko, I got it! I start tomorrow!"
Tomorrow? "That's great, Nami!" Nojiko exclaims, "After school?"
She nods, "I should be able to walk down here."
"Wow!" Luffy yells, "You're going to be a police officer!"
"That makes no sense, Luffy!" yells Ace over the top of him.
"I'm just going to be a receptionist and assistant, Luffy," Nami explains, "Nothing like that."
"Cool! So you're like a police officer!"
Ace seems ready to drop his head onto the steering wheel but relents and just grins tiredly, "Congratulations on your job. I'll drive me and Luffy back to Makino's and let you have your car back."
"Thank you, Ace. After all, you drove me here… LUFFY! What did I say about sitting back? HEAD OFF MY SEAT!"
"But it's comfy!"
"Hey, all of you put on your seatbelts!" shouts Ace, "Otherwise Smoky's going to pull me over again!" At this, he nervously glances at the building as if Smoker is going to come charging out with a fine.
"Smoky?" Nami laughs, "And what do you mean 'again'?"
"Long story…"
"Ace is a reckless driver!" Luffy hoots, as he pulls his seatbelt on.
"Am not! HEY, Luffy, wear the seatbelt properly! Not halfway!"
"It's uncomfy!"
"NOW!"
Nojiko watches Nami carefully; remembering her expression of happiness and comfort around Ace and Luffy as both excitedly congratulated her. Nami is suspicious of people by nature. Nojiko is, too, but not to the extent of her younger sister. Few, few times – if at all – Nojiko had seen Nami truly smile like that in front of someone, excluding Nojiko herself. Unfortunately, for all Nojiko knows, Nami is faking it until she makes it. Sometimes it truly saddened her how much her younger sister could hide, how much she felt she had to hide, until actually being accustomed to the habit.
I'm still here, Nami. I didn't leave. Nojiko always felt the topic too direct to bring up, thus she never had. She would be lying if she claimed she never thought about it though.
I wish Nami didn't feel so afraid to say something.
Watching her now however, with Luffy and Ace, essentially strangers to them both, Nojiko looks upon Nami's smile warmly and rests her head against the window contentedly, listening to the sound of falling rain. More than anything, she wants to wind down the window and smell the familiar scent that reminds her of her mother, after the scent of tangerines and strong cigarette smoke.
If she closes her eyes, Nami's laughter could bring her back to her poor, perfect childhood… before Arlong ever interfered with it, shattered it and left the fragments like glass with edges too sharp for anyone to touch without getting cut, let alone put back together.