Disclaimer: One Piece does not belong to me.
Chapter 2:
[1 month prior to Zoro's Return]
A chill breeze drifted through the window. Caught in the gusts, curtains swayed. The fluttering fabric whispered in the dim room. In bed, the woman shifted. Eyes, already open, watched the curtains rise and fall. Lying on her side, she tried to breathe in time with their steady sway. Beyond, the sky had begun to change; a tentative shift from gray to blue.
She had gone to bed with an arm folded under her pillow and a leg haphazardly draped over the covers. Now, her toes were cold and her arm cramping. She breathed with the breeze and wondered if she'd actually slept. The night had been long and her dreams fleeting.
Dreams –
She cringed, reflexively drawing her knees to her chest. Closing her eyes, she focused on the feeling of the chill air brushing over her skin.
Dreams. They were horrible and wonderful at once.
They teased.
The one from last night had been the worst; it had been as though he'd never left. Tangled in sheets, they had lain together. Strong arms wrapped around her stomach, hugging her close. With her back tucked against his chest, his slow breaths tickled her neck. She awoke to the ghost of his touch and the fading sound of his breaths, nothing more than the echo of a dream. Her bed had never felt more empty – or more cold.
With the sky brightening beyond the curtains, she rolled. The other half of the bed was made. The pillow, a harder counterpart to her fluffy one, lay neatly in place. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against it. The fabric was cool. She took a deep breath. It still smelled like him.
The sound that emerged from her throat was sharp, gasping. The pillow was yanked to her chest. Shaking, she buried her face in the soft material. Closing her eyes, with the pillow against her stomach and his smell surrounding her, she could almost pretend that he had never left. If her imagination was a little better, perhaps she might have been able to pretend that he was coming back.
As the room slowly lit, in that position she remained. The sun was well above the horizon when a sound, sharp and distant, finally roused her. Blinking into consciousness, she lifted her head. The telephone's abrasive din blared through the apartment. Dropping her head back to the pillow, she let it ring. After a long beep, a voice, sharpened over the phone, crackled from the machine.
"Hey Nami – you there?"
Usopp.
Nami listened as the disembodied voice echoed through the apartment.
"It's been a rough couple of days on all of us – ever since – since – well you know." He paused. The machine buzzed in the sudden silence. The buzzing was broken by several sniffs. "Uh, but I know its gotta be even harder for you." Another pause. "You didn't answer yesterday either. You want me to come over?" The next pause was even longer. "You know what, Luffy and I are gonna stop by later." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, expect us in a bit. We'll get through this Nami. All of us."
A click sounded and the machine went quiet. After Usopp's sharp voice, the apartment's silence felt unnatural – stifling. Nami rolled. She blinked up at the ceiling. Maybe she should go somewhere. But where? Her shop? The café? The park? She dropped an arm over her eyes. How could she go anywhere when each place held memories of him? Not that here was much better.
Lifting her arm, Nami's gaze drifted over the cluttered room. Jackets, much too large for her hung by the door. Fencing swords had been propped by the dresser. The arm dropped back over her eyes.
Four years. Four years ago she'd met him, dragging him into all of their lives. She supposed it really wasn't all that long ago – but it felt like forever. She clenched her hand, the cool metal around her finger dug against her skin. So much had happened. She swallowed. Tears burned hot, hidden within the crook of her arm. But there was still so much that had yet to happen – so much that they were going to do.
And then the apartment was loud again, filled once more with the phone's repetitious blare. The voice that followed the beep was deep, steady. Sanji.
"Nami-san? Nami? If you're there – I – well I just wanted to make sure you were okay." A heavy breath sounded over the machine. His voice shook. "Those bastards, they shouldn't have told you like that. Broken the news over the phone. I'd like to-" He abruptly cut off. "Right, not important. Nami? If you're there, please call me back. I'm worried. I can make you something – anything you want. Just say the word." Another pause. "I'm here for you – we all are."
The machine cut off with a click. The apartment was even quieter than before. The ceiling still occupied her vision. She probably should have taken Sanji up on his offer. Truthfully, she wasn't sure when she'd last eaten. But even so, she couldn't find the energy to rouse herself from bed.
Two days ago – It had been two days since she'd learned the soldier she'd sent off to war was never coming home. Just before she'd gotten the call, she'd been laughing with Luffy and Usopp. Now for the life of her, she couldn't remember what could have possibly been so funny. It seemed a lifetime ago.
No more than a minute after the last call, the phone again erupted in noise. Nami warily turned her head towards to untouched handset. Maybe they were coordinating their beep was followed by Robin's even voice.
"Hello Nami. Usopp tells me you're not answering his calls." Though seemingly collected, the older woman's voice held an unsteady timbre. "The pain you are feeling must be immense. I understand the need to be alone, at least for a while. Which is why I felt I should tell you that Usopp and Luffy are currently on their way to your apartment." She paused. "When you're ready, I will come. Or come to my apartment when you feel up for it – you still have a key. You don't have to mourn Zoro's loss alone."
By the time the machine clicked. Nami was already rolling from the bed. Whether it was his name, sounding almost absurd in Robin's even tone, or the prospect of friends coming over who she wasn't quite ready to face, Nami knew that she needed to leave. Tugging on a jacket and shuffling into her shoes, Nami barely paused to tie her messy hair in a ponytail before hurrying towards the door.
With her house keys in hand and a purse slung over her shoulder, she slipped through the door. Taking the stairs outside her apartment two by two, she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she turned down the sidewalk. Taking quick steps, she rapidly put distance between herself and the apartment. It wasn't until she had traveled several blocks that her shoulders finally loosened.
Nami sighed. Her breath fogged in the crisp morning air. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with her friends – she did. But she wasn't ready. Right now she felt like a glass figurine; one which harbored a spindly fracture at the core of its thick glass. If she saw her friends now, was faced with their sad eyes and sympathetic words – she imagined the fracture splintering, her body of glass crackling as the fissures raced from her core to her limbs and she at long last broke into pieces.
Nami hunched her shoulders - as if protecting the invisible fracture she had imagined within herself. She would go to them soon – just not yet. First she needed – she needed – Nami shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. She didn't know what she needed. Maybe she'd eventually figure it out.
Head ducked down, she wandered until the sun, climbing higher in the sky, warmed her shoulders and back. Shrugging off her jacket, she looked up, and froze. Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Of all the places her feet could have carried her. This place, which carried perhaps the most poignant memories of them all. The café was busy. The "OPEN" sign glowed bright in the window.
Between blinks, disjointed memories of the time they had spent together in this place flashed fast. Him leaning over the table. Holding her hand as he lead her into the shop. His cheeks flushing red as he offered to buy her a drink. She spreading a map over the table, he tracing the lines with his fingers. A quick turn, a curse, and hot coffee drenching the floor and their feet –
Nami stumbled back. Clenching her eyes, she continued backpedaling. He was gone. It repeated, a horrific mantra in her head. The memories that the shop and the rest of the city held suddenly seemed a cruel joke. With the "OPEN" sign glowing bright in her vision, she took another step back – into nothing.
With the last step her heel had edged over the curb. Even as she flailed, her foot slipped. As she fell back, a horn blared. Tires squealed. The "OPEN" signed flickered once. The squealing was piercing; it was at her ear. The world was unimaginably loud. It erupted in brightness and she felt everything; then nothing at all.
The end of nothingness was heralded by a beep. And then another. And another. The beeps continued, even and uninterrupted. When she opened her eyes, the room's white walls were blinding. Beside the bed, a line sluggishly zigzagged across a monitor. She blinked curiously up at it. It was keeping time with the beeps.
And then a woman was there. Her coat was whiter than the walls. And then a man. They spoke to her. Asked her questions. The man flicked on a light. She flinched when it flashed in her eyes. They asked more questions. Perhaps she wasn't answering them right. The man and the woman looked to one another once and then began scribbling on clip boards.
But she was tired – and the woman lifted a syringe – injecting its contents into a long cord. Belatedly she realized the cord was attached to her arm. And then she was really tired. The room was fuzzy. Nothingness returned.
The next time, the nothingness was broken by voices. Struggling to emerge from its viscous depths, she worked to make sense of them.
"Nami-san…Can't stand to see her like this."
"Head injury…affected her memory…five years…gone."
"…get it back?…"
"…depends on the case…may or may not…"
For some time the nothingness won, and she was dragged back to its thick depths. But eventually the voices roused her once more. Still struggling to awaken, her mind couldn't fully comprehend their words.
"…before…was in so much pain…couldn't even leave her house…"
"Not remembering…it might be a blessing in this case…"
"…we can't do this, guys…not right…"
"For her own good…You want to be the one to tell her? Make her go through losing him again?"
"…if she remembers….deal with it then…"
"…Just want her to be happy…"
When she finally broke free of the nothingness, the room was quiet. Blinking, the hospital room came into focus. The previously pristine room was now crowded with people. Sprawled over the chairs and the floor, they slept in varying states of disarray. Sitting up, her eyes traveled over the group. Luffy, Sanji, Usopp, Robin, Franky, Brook, Chopper, and – Nami smiled – Nojiko was here too. She must have flown in. Blinking drowsily she leaned back into the bed. They were all here.
Frowning, she raised a hand to her head. Her fingers traced thick bandages. Come to think of it – why was she here in the first place? Absently feeling the bandage, she thought back – and came up with nothing. It was disconcerting to realize that she had absolutely no idea how she had come to be here. It must have been some kind of accident – but what?
With a frustrated sigh, she dropped back to the pillow. Surely it would come back to her eventually. If not, one of her friends surely knew. Certainly Robin at least – as her roommate - maybe she was even there when it happened.
Lulled by methodical beeps, her eyelids began to droop. It irked her to not remember – but it helped that they were here. Soothed with the knowledge that all of her closest friends were nearby, Nami allowed her eyes to drop closed. Surely, when she next awoke, they would tell her.
And the plot thickens XD thanks for reading!
