Notes: I apologize for the retyping of this chapter, realized too late that a 4 day gap between the chapters just won't do, especially during an introduction. Kurage translates to 'jellyfish' in Japanese. Law likes to add his little "-ya" honorific onto most names. Please rate and review! Thanks so much.

It's a bit hard to walk with the Sea Prism Stone on actually; the appearance of the nullifying rock a challenge that Gunnel was utterly unprepared for. Then again, glancing down towards her dragging chains, Gunnel had not prepared for this either. Her nose tickled profoundly, the cold, dank state of her drenched T shirt and bikini causing her immense and frigid distress. She was exhausted.

The mineral was the kind to ruthlessly deprive you of all your energy, while the jagged rims were sure to blister the hell out of your limbs, not like she wasn't already drained from all that speed swimming before. It was fiercely unforgiving, much like a certain captain under the name of Trafalgar Law. Think about it, she says to herself while being forced down the stairs with a shimmering trail of water; did she ever hurt his crew members? No. Did she ever hurt him? No. And did she ever attempt to hurt anyone? Uh, no. The most she did was dodge Law's sadistic attempt at ending her precious life. The captain walked in front.

With the adorable bear named Bepo guiding her path behind Law, Jean Bart followed suit, guarding her from the back, with one hand clenching down hard on his machete, the other holding tightly on the chains, ready for any possibilities of backlash. The act was completely unnecessary, but sadly understandable. Gunnel wondered how far she had to go in order to prove her innocence to them. Being cut up into jellyfish was probably one. She did the half frown, half pout again. Did he actually just call her a jellyfish? She knew of his nature, but for him to want to cut her like that? Oh please, if only he knew. The girl sneezed.

"Watch your head." The very large pirate grunted, paying no attention to the obvious reason for her sniffles. Not knowing why she had such a weird face on, Jean Bart could only prepare for the worst of consequences. Tilting her head to the side and back, Gunnel peered at the monstrous size of the human man and pondered many things, including the fact that he was probably four to six times the size of Law, which means that that compared to herself, Jean was probably seven tim-

"Ouch!" The doorway rattled, inciting a soft yelp of surprise from Gunnel as the side of her head rammed straight into edges of the door, leaving a small dome-like dent on the steel. Apparently she had walked off track while gaping at the man's giant stature. "Someone didn't listen." Jean remarked impassively, before giving a final push, thrusting her through the door and into their destination. It was a room; a pure, full-on blank, no windows, no nothing, ashen white room with a stone chair fixed right in the middle. Gunnel frowns, taking an involuntary whiff. This isn't good.

Waiting by the door, a melodramatic sigh was to be heard from Law as he quietly contemplated his options. Despite her initial appearance, this was probably going to be the worst mistake of his life. The girl couldn't even walk properly. He turns back to Penguin and Shachi, catching them both in the act of ogling the bosom of their newcomer. "Ah-", they splutter, helpless in the face of their Captain's playful grin.

"When and where till the nearest land?" Law asks with a chuckle, his voice deep and devious, with the glint of a sly man's eyes. Shachi blinks, face still 50 shades darker in embarrassment, "I-It would probably be uh, Pi Island, taking a week or two, why?"

"Make that a week, we're stopping there." Law instructs, before giving his now scruffier goatee a little scratch. Walking into his very particular room, a side glance of Bepo's caught his eye. The bear was gesturing to the deck, then their telescope. Law twisted his hand into a thumbs-up. Okay, he signals.

With all distractions kept at bay, Trafalgar walks in, Penguin and Shachi creaking the stubborn iron door shut behind him. With only themselves left in the warmed hallways, Shachi clears his throat, eyes flickering around the seamless, ebony floor. "That was embarrassing..." He mumbles, still redder than a baboon's butt.

"Huh? What was? Catching you staring at her ass?"

Penguin was more experienced, thus less flustered, if flustered at all. His mate nodded, giving the former a laugh, as the young man reached out to punch Shachi's arm. "Just because you're new doesn't mean that he doesn't know." Penguin winks mischievously, "Trust me, Captain's seem worse - much worse." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I would know."

"Oi!" Gunnel was now resorting to whines, her voice a sudden pitch higher as the two figures struggle in the middle of the uncanny room, Jean Bart furiously trying to chain her down, but to no avail.

"Why are you seating me into this Sea Stone chair?" She questioned. Gunnel knew what it was, the pungent scent of her imminent death stronger than ever in the face of the chair. She already had Sea Stone cuffs on, this would turn her into roadkill.

Without a care for her pleas, he took the girl's disobedient wrists back, continuing to soundlessly stuff her into the frigid chair. Gunnel, on the other hand, was waiting for an answer. Without getting one, she rips her hand away, managing to escape his calloused grasp with a few additional scratches. The skids from their watery feet and drenched shoes stop, instead replaced by the sound of shortened breaths, emitting danger to every corner of the room. Her burning, orange eyes staring into Jean's, the bigger man smouldered, neck veins bulging visibly against his tanned skin.

"Don't test our patience, young lady."

"Don't test my limits, former slave." Gunnel retorts knowledgeably, watching as the man's eyes dilute into stiff black slits. Mouth quivering in disgust, the lid to Jean Bart's anger was simmering, emotions boiling, threatening to fly off, until the Captain's interruption.

"Why are you so afraid of the Sea Stone chair, Kurage-ya?" Law walks in, inquiring with a deeply implicating tone.

"I'm not. Why are you so adamant in placing me in a Sea Stone chair, Law-san?" She retorts.

"Well, " The Warlord starts, right hand instinctively scrolling up to the hilt of his embordered nodachi. "Because I was hoping for some fun."

"I'm not resorting to violence, Law, you're pushing my limit."

"Oh really? But this simple act of defiance can be seen as another act of violence, no?"

"Not when you're deliberately twisting my words."

"But, what are you so afraid of?" Law brings the question back home, raising an intense eyebrow. Was she hiding something from him? Something such as a Devil Fruit? He threw the thought around his mind a bit before withdrawing. The obvious answer would be that it wouldn't be possible for her to swim if she did have one. But nevertheless, it seems that the longer his interactions with the girl drags out, the more interesting it gets.

"I'm waiting for an answer." The captain pushed.

Gunnel resorts to glaring daggers instead, the flickers of animosity flaming viperously in her amber eyes. How immoral of him - how dare he; it wasn't just her, no one in their right minds would ever try getting locked in a Sea Stone chair, it was akin to the bringing the death penalty upon oneself. The seconds tick by fast until she found herself answering regardless.

"What I'm scared of," the captured girl crosses her arms, now drying with speckles of powdered salt, "Is my grisly death on this ship before we reach Zou."

Law blinks a few times, before laughing."Fair enough", he starts. "But if you're too frightened to subject yourself through the lesser of my physical contracts, I guess I have no choice but to use the more excessive of the two."

"Excuse me?"

"Room."

"Oh freaking, come on, Hak-"

"Mes." He cuts in maliciously, twisting his palm up and over, wrenching the girl backwards with a pop as his fingers found themselves slightly curled around Gunnel's now materialized heart. It left a hole in her chest, one that rapidly covered itself as her pumping life source went towards his hand.

A surprised yelp escapes barely from her lips before she wheezes in frustration. Trying harder than ever to hold herself back, Gunnel instead subjects her dissatisfaction unto the unfortunate floors, the smooth white marble cratering 15 inches under her trembling strength. "What the hell do you think-"

"You wanted a deal right? This is your deal." Playing catch with her frozen heart, Law catapults the organ up, before catching it back down soundly, his tattooed fingers of 'DEATH' tightening on the slick surface, constricting mercilessly until Gunnel's resolute, teeth-gritting silence had spurted into howls of harrowing agony. Disappointed in the lack of the Sea Stone chair's usage, the successful seizure of the girl's heart had made up for the rest of Law's failures. Now as fine as a harmonious sea, the captain motions, throwing a set of keys towards the now placid Jean.

"Take the chains off, Jean." Catching the keys with a face still shrouded in surprise, he must've heard wrong.

"Captain...?"

"I've got her heart now, there's no need to restrain her. That's the price she's gotta pay for a deal with me."

Jean Bart blinked a few hard times to digest the command before proceeding to his saviour's wishes, the golden key slithering itself slowly into the cold cavity of the Sea Stone, before a click unlocks the aching girl. Law gestures his mate out the guarded door, leaving the captain and his newest subordinate as the only ones in the room.

Head down, slick and wet; white hair over her heaving shoulders, Gunnel grasps her almost translucent tresses and grimly tucks it behind her right ear. She didn't know he could do that, the whole heart thing. She thought he was only able to switch hearts. How stupid of her, Gunnel should've know. How many loopholes has this been? She was too arrogant, that's what it was, and the very thought wretched her.

On the other side, Law was looking forward to a cooperative relationship, as he nudges a helping hand down, prompting the fatigued girl to look up. Instead, the captain was met with an unexpectedly furious face, as she dryly slaps the tanned hand away; the strike managing to resonate as crisp as ever across the room.

"Harsh." Law mutters, glancing down to see his slapped hand reddening rapidly as he rubs his right one over, feeling the fiery pulse of the purpled burn advancing forward. Ah. She's a tough one. He mulls over the thought of chaining her back up again briefly before dismissing that one as well, his arrogance getting the best of him.

"Don't take it personally. Who knows what body part of mine you'll seize next."

Now standing up, her legs were like a newborn's, wobbling before the girl dips her head down again, only to grab the remaining bits of tangled hair and recapturing it into one horrible ponytail. The truth was, it really didn't matter which body part he took next - he has her only lifesource, anything more would be redundant.

The captain chuckled inwardly, shaping his stern features into one of slight amusement, as he walks over to open the door with his right palm; the left one sizzling quietly in his pocket. As the door opened, the curious faces of Penguin and Shachi peered in.

"You should take a bath," Law gestures to all of her. He was getting nauseous.

"Are you changing the subject?"

"No, I'm stating the obvious."

"And what about my heart?" Gunnel was exasperated. If this doesn't go well, she's definitely using force on the next ship to Zou. Confronted with another one of Law's cruel laughs, her frosted silver eyebrows knitted themselves together in painful distress.

"You're not dead right?" Law continues his torment, lifting his hand off the door and letting Penguin and Shachi take over as he twirls his right index finger at her. "Besides, I get nothing out of killing you. I'm not that bored."

His words were met with moments of contemplation, with the occasional chattering of frosted teeth the only disturbance of silence. Law waited patiently, amusing himself in the meantime by watching the way her mind ticked; eyes darting back and forth, as she habitually rubbed her wrists together while trying to make a decision. If she chooses to fight - not that she would - Trafalgar will still, no doubt, enjoy his victory. It was a blatantly outright fact.

They both knew that it was just a matter of time now.

Finally, her arms fell defeated; and she turns towards him, the pout still on her lips. Law gives a miniscule smirk, "So?", he prods shamelessly. Greeting her new captain with a mocking bow, "Please take good care of my heart," were the carefully worded threats that chose to tumble out from her mouth. Feeling satisfied, he puts her heart away cautiously.

"Get up, we're good. Just go wash yourself."

Lifting up her head, she blinks, "Am I supposed to know where the bath is?"

Oh right, Law thought, she's new. Gesturing to the two door holders, Law gives his command.

"Someone take her to the unused bathhouse on the east side." The captain pauses, only to continue with a renewed vigour. "Shachi. Why don't you do it?"

"Yes Captain. Wait, ah-ah what?"

This time, Law gave a real big smirk and started off for the deck before carefully stopping one last time. "Penguin, can you clean up the mess around here?" He directs, pointing to the venomous pools of seawater ready to suck up his soul at any time now. Penguin nods, and Trafalgar continues on his way. Bepo had said that there were ships in the vicinity, the captain wondered how his bear was doing.

"Lunch is at 12 p.m, don't be late - You too, Kurage-ya."

Without another word, and a wave of his hand, Law was gone, leaving Shachi feeling more than just played. An elbow nudged the young man's side softly. He jumps. "Oh, it's just you, Penguin. I thought- ah."

"You thought what?"

"No, never mind."

Waving Penguin off, he turns around to face the new girl, who has been blankly picking at the flecks of dried salt on her muscled arm for the past few minutes. Shachi cleared his throat, "Ah hem, follow me please ojou-chan, your bathhouse is this way."

Acknowledging him with a slight nod of her head and some softly chattering teeth, she followed him the room and up the stairs on the left. Now on the main floor, Gunnel takes in the scenery; there seemed to be two hallways - one horizontal and the other vertical, each hallway branching off into tinier hallways or other categorized areas. Judging from the state of the basement, that whole floor was probably the military base, with the room she was just in one for interrogation. The very thought of the room brought back another flood of emotions, ones that concerned the loss of her heart. She felt a pang of dismay.

No, stop it, stop thinking like that. Think positive, positive. Gunnel bunched up her features, making a serious face. You managed to hijack a Warlord's ship, that's good. Besides, he's right, you're not dead, and if you're not dead you can still get to Zou. The Warlord isn't a bad one, he was the one who helped Luffy after the Battle. That's right, he can't be bad. You can do it, you can do it for Kuzan, for the man who saved your life, for the man you haven't seen in 24 months, for the man whom a reunion is long overdue with. She continued to encourage herself.

"So how old are you, ojou-chan?" Shachi interrupts unknowingly, peering back at the smaller girl under his red rimmed hat. She was shuddering a bit, a hard face - from the cold, as he would guess. A pang of guilt pricked him, she didn't look like a bad person. He glances down, and decides to place a finger under his collar, counting one... two layers. Oh thank the Mother Sea, he was a grey long sleeve underneath. Stopping briefly, he promptly unzips his suit, pulling the sweater over and off his head, before tossing it to the overwhelmed girl.

"Ah, wait-" Gunnel gapes, unsure of what to do as she helpless watch Shachi presumably strip in the middle of the empty hallway, before catching his clothes. He then zips his suit right up.

"Don't catch a cold, ojou-chan, the captain might just kick you off if you do." Shachi winks nonchalantly, any hint of his previous embarrassment was long gone.

There was no need for an explanation, for Gunnel herself knew just how deathly she looked. She couldn't help it, the sea was a cold beast, refusing to let go even after one has been long gone. Giving him her most heartfelt thanks, "I'll put it on after the shower," she says, not wanting to soak it. They continued the walk in a blissful silence, footsteps muted crisply before the monotonous buzz of the submarine generators. The young man whistled.

Oh wait, she paused mentally. He did just ask me a question didn't he? Gunnel racked her brain - what was he saying again? It took a bit of eye darting, blinking and eccentric frowning before the memory faintly began to resurface.

"Oh, ah - I'm nineteen." Gunnel manages to chirp out, albeit weakly as they turn for the final time, reaching the residential area.

"Ah, are you?" Shachi continues a few steps further, before turning around to point at the unused bathhouse. "Are you okay alone or do you prefer my assistance?"

With a burst of bubbling laughter, Gunnel shakes her head no. There weren't many twists and turns in this submarine, she says, she'll be fine.

"Alright then." The young man responds kindly with a mischievous twinkle. Shachi had meant, if she needed his help in the shower, but that can wait for next time. His footsteps echoed faintly before disappearing off towards the deck. Gunnel was to meet them there apparently.

Stepping into the bathhouse, the fresh scent of an aromatic Rosewood blew over like a soft wind, tickling her nose and reminding her of the cherry blossoms back home. She smiled, it wasn't too overwhelming, and the nostalgia was quite pleasant.

It was a simple kind of place, minimalist even. The bathhouse itself was white - just like that awful room she was in before, but a different kind of white, a much more serene, a much more pure white, with the back wall a rich, ebony black. Just like the submarine floors. Fingers tingling with anticipation, her body yearned desperately for the rousing touch of the warm water spilling over to drench her dirtied, frostbitten skin, as she turns on the tap, finally letting go.

Her figure continued to disappear underneath the emerging mist.