When she comes to, her face is pressed against dirty, blue tiling while water pools around her prone form. Wet sleeves stick to her arms uncomfortably. A tiny crab walks by her face.
She grimaces and attempts to push herself up, but it's a struggle as what's left of her wings keep her awkwardly propped on her side.
The last thing she remembers is a bright light before darkness encased her. She held on to the line pulling her down for as long as possible, but she'd lost consciousness somewhere along the way.
Confusion hits her as she takes in her surroundings. Instead of being crushed by the sea, she's in a large, tiled room with tiny drains littering the floor. There's only one nozzle fixed to the wall, but her best guess is that this is some kind of shower room
"Hey! You awake now?" A loud, tinny voice shouts somewhere above her.
She flinches and clutches her head. The sudden noise along with the light shining from the ceiling feels like too much. Right now even the room's dim light feels like being out in the sun.
"What do you want?" She manages to growl out.
Her fingers brush against the back of her head, and she nearly black outs again. She's injured; it must be from earlier when her wings shattered. Tiny shards of metal probably need to be picked out from a wound she can't see. Joy.
"Now, now, darlin'. Ain't nobody gonna hurt you. Come on down to the livin' quarters, and we'll get you something dry to wear."
Across the room, a big, heavy door swings open with loud, metallic shrieks. She flinches and clutches her ears. The sound of screeching metal continues to echo long after all movement has ceased.
Sometimes she really hates life.
"Where am I?" She asks but gets no answer.
Taking a wary step through the large metal door, which is thick enough to contain a blast from an explosion—or, perhaps more likely, thick enough to keep the sea out—she finds herself in a long, empty hallway. There are no windows; just metal walls illuminated by dim, flickering light, and a door that lies at the very end.
Everything inside of her is screaming "trap." She makes sure all her knives are accounted for, excluding the one she lost in the sea tunnel.
While patting herself down, she bumps into something familiar. Taking it out and bringing it up to her eyes, the serious face of Mini-Mihawk glowers back at her.
"Only those too weak to fight should be afraid," she can imagine the doll saying.
With a wry twist of her lips, she tucks Mini-Mihawk into the crook of her arm. It's been a while since the doll was her only company. For some reason, the large glaring eyes bring her comfort in this setup of a horror story.
Even though walking down the long hallway feels like walking towards doom, she doesn't allow her steps to falter. Whoever is speaking might be able to see her, and she refuses to show any fear.
Despite her apprehension, nothing happens, and the large door at the end of the hallway opens for her just as loudly as the previous one. She goes through and quickly comes to a stop.
The size of the room she woke up in has nothing on the one after it. This new room is round with three stories of open space. Metal walkways circle the room, and numerous stairs go up and down haphazardly. A crane hangs from the ceiling
Keeping a firm grip on Mini-Mihawk, she leans over the railing in front of her with narrow eyes. At first glance, it looks like a massive pile of wood on the floor beneath her. On closer examination, she spies what looks like a mast lying on top of a faded figurehead.
Below her are fragments of ships; she's sure of it. It looks like they've been torn apart and thrown into a pile.
"You'll be wantin' to take the door to your upper left!"
The familiar metallic screeching comes from the indicated direction, and she squeezes Mini-Mihawk with a groan. She doesn't know how much more of this she can take. Her head is killing her.
With no choice, she follows the voice's instructions. She's lead to what can only be described as a living room. Couches and chairs surround a makeshift coffee table made of books and a piece of wood. None of the furniture matches in the least.
At the back of the room, a rusty diving suit peers out of the window. A sandy beach can be seen between the bark of palm trees. She squints her eyes. Her mistake; it's a painting, not a window.
She waits, but there are no more instructions.
"So you're here."
The diving suit moves, and she's hurling herself behind a wooden bench that's seen better days with a throwing knife at the ready. Her broken wings snap around her on reflex.
"Now, darlin', you're hurtin' my feelings here!" It's the same voice without the tinny effect.
Is she dealing with haunted diving suits? Should she set it on fire? She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. No, calm down. There's probably a person inside the diving suit, and she doesn't sense any hostility.
She hides her knife under her sleeve and rearranges Mini-Mihawk more securely in the crook of her arm. Standing with a readiness to move at any sign of attack, she meets the faceless, rusty helmet with a hard stare.
A swordsman must stand their ground and face their enemies head on, she thinks, but I don't have a sword.
"Now let me get a good look at you—" The diving suit suddenly jerks back with exaggerated movements as if to show surprise. "That doll! Could it be?"
She almost throws the knife at the sudden yelling. She doubts it would have done much good with how thick the diving suit is. She'll need to set the knife on fire to do any real damage.
" 'Could it be' what?" She asks, wincing in pain.
"I know you! I gave you that doll!" The diving suit points at Mini-Mihawk.
Looking from Mini-Mihawk to the diving suit, she gives the still-pointing figure a blank stare. She very clearly remembers making this doll. She can even recall the loathing that went into every single stitch.
"No, you didn't," she eventually says.
"Oh, I can't believe this! Why Divebelle, it's me! It's your pa!" The diving suit holds out its gigantic arms as if wanting her to jump into them.
"What," she says instead.
"Oh, but you'll be needing dry clothes! Come with me, sweetheart!"
Before she can say that her name is Kuina and that she already has a father, the diving suit grabs her in a crushing hug; its big arms encircle her wings effortlessly. Unable to escape its grip, she's carried to a small bedroom that only fits a bed and a dresser.
"Your clothes are on the bed where you left them. We'll have lunch once you freshen up!"
The door shuts with a snap, and on the bed is a tiny dress that looks ready to fall apart and a dirty, white ribbon. She has no intention of changing out of her kimono, but there's no way the dress would have fit her to begin with.
Death clings to it.
The child-sized dress is old and sea damaged. She folds it the best she can and tucks it under the bed. On a whim, she ties the white ribbon around her ponytail.
She attempts to exit the room. It takes her an embarrassing long time to realize there's a hidden lever that needs to be pulled. The door opens, and the diving suit is waiting on the other side like she knew it would be.
"Ready for dinner?" The diving suit asks, not seeming to mind that she's still in her same wet clothes.
"I thought it was lunch?" She narrows her eyes.
"Sweetheart, you took so long gettin' ready, the hours flew by," the diving suit says patronizingly.
She doesn't bother to retort, choosing to go back to the living room quietly. She squeezes Mini-Mihawk in place of a scream. If she lets the anger take over, there's a possibility that she might pass out from the blood rushing to her head.
Her abductor sets out oddly pristine plates and forks onto the coffee table while attempting some sort of small talk. It's mostly about fish. She sits down in a chair that seems easy to throw and nods whenever the diving suit checks to see if she's listening.
Her patience at playing this game is quickly drying up.
"Pa," she says, placing as much ridicule as she can on the word, "what was your name again?"
"You forgot?" The diving suit pauses before gesturing dramatically. "I am Edwin Jon! Greatest underwater scientist of all time! Enemies call me Edwin! Friends call me Jon! But I will always be your pa!"
She can't say she recognizes the name. Her foray into history books were mostly about what might kill her on the open sea.
"Right, so greatest underwater scientist," she doesn't believe that in the slightest, "why did you drag me down here?"
If Edwin was going to answer her, she'll never hear it because at that moment a large explosion goes off, shaking the room. She lets out a quiet swear as the rattling of forks against plates continue ringing in her ears.
"Seems we're under attack! Stay here, Divebelle. They don't know who they're messin' with!"
Edwin disappears in a blur, and she's left wincing as the door shuts behind him with a loud screech. That hulking diving suit is absurdly fast.
She sits there staring blankly at Mini-Mihawk until another blast rattles the furniture. She's up and going for the door immediately. The lever doesn't open it, and she tries to find the lock mechanism.
She will admit to failing to find a way to unlock the door. She will not admit to ramming her head against unyielding metal only to curl up on the floor in pain.
"Shut up," she tells the accusing eyes of Mini-Mihawk.
Eventually, the heavy footsteps of Edwin's diving suit return, and she gets to her feet just in time for the door to swing open. She has every intention of dashing through, but before she can, a pair of bodies thrown through the doorway slam into her.
"Who do you think you are? Hey! Come back here!" A very familiar pair of lungs shrieks.
The door closes once more with a loud metallic scream. Two sets of elbows dig into her stomach, and the back of her head blossoms in pain as it grinds against jagged metal wings.
"Ow," she says, feeling it.
There's a wild movement to get off her, and she thinks someone slams their knee against her ribs. Black spots are starting to fill her vision, but she can make out two shadows hovering over her against the light. She could be wrong though.
"Kuina?"
"Nami," she acknowledges.
"It appears we're prisoners here."
"Robin." She recognizes that even, measured tone.
"Oh no, you're bleeding!"
Looks like she failed to sense Chopper. She'll have to do better next time. Because this is her life, and there will definitely be a next time.
"Oh, good. You brought the doctor," she says before passing out.
Her next awakening is far more pleasant. She's lying on a couch with her head carefully propped on a pillow while her wings drape off the side towards the floor.
"You're awake already?"
She sits up, keeping her movements slow. There doesn't appear to be any dizziness, and the pain from her headache has dulled to something more bearable.
Chopper jumps onto the couch, hooves hovering as if she's going to collapse. Nami sends her looks of disbelief from across the room.
"You're a monster," Nami's eyes seem to say.
Chopper pokes at the bandages wrapped around her head before trying to get a good look at her eyes. The reindeer makes a face at the poor lighting in the room but continues doing the best he can.
The flipping of pages fills the silence as Robin skims through a large textbook. A stack of books lie next to her, all from the now dismantled coffee table. She's sort of envious at how fast Robin is able to read.
"Where," she trails off, unsure of what to ask.
Where are we? Where did you come from? Where is everybody?
"It appears we are on the fabled Stenuit Station," Robin says, answering one of her questions.
"Stenuit Station? That sounds familiar," she says with a frown.
Where has she heard that name before?
"You may have came across a book about it. It was part of the first foray for humans to live underwater. Though the station's primary objective was to study under ocean activity."
Oh, that's right. Government history. Anytime she came home with one of those books, her father liked to tell her the "correct" version. Some of the so-called truer tales had seemed so fantastical, she was never sure whether he had been messing with her or not.
(She's leaning towards not. The Grand Line is so bizarre that sometimes she can't believe everything she's witnessed herself.)
"But then the station disappeared without a trace," she recalls.
"The official explanation was that the fishmen destroyed it. It was said that everyone part of the project was killed for daring to step into their territory. There was a rise in hunting fishmen after that," Robin says gravely.
"How convenient," she sneers.
She knows firsthand those kinds of manipulation tactics. How wonderful it must have been for the World Government to get their citizens committing genocide on their behalf.
Nami looks uncomfortable at her sudden outburst, and she reins in her emotions. Now's not the time to lose it. She needs to find a way out of this underwater station and back to the surface.
"I was probably grabbed by that Edwin Jon guy," Robin perks up at the name, "but last I saw, you guys were fine. Why are you here?" She asks.
"We couldn't just leave you!" Chopper tells her.
She pats Chopper's hat before turning to Nami. She waits patiently.
"Actually, we were going to leave you, but that hook came back for our ship," Nami states truthfully.
Chopper waves his hooves at Nami frantically, who sticks her tongue out playfully. Putting her hands together and winking, Nami turns to her as if to ask, "Forgive me?" Robin shrugs when she glances at her.
"Your ship was dragged down?" She asks.
Her mind goes back to the pile of ship parts in that circular room. Is Edwin dragging down ships? For what purpose?
"Oh no, I was able to outmaneuver that bastard," Nami says, "but then Zoro jumped in after you."
All her thoughts freeze. The moron did what now?
"Is he okay?" She asks stiffly, trying not to let her imagination run away with her.
Nami grimaces.
"We thought he was with you. We used Franky's Shark Submerge III just to get here, and then that weirdo appeared the moment we busted in."
There was no sign of Zoro when she woke up in the station. Could he have messed up and gotten pulled out of the sea tunnel?
The Straw Hats came here using their shark submarine, but could they have missed Zoro on the way down? Is he floating in the sea somewhere?
Robin, able to read her face and clearly wanting to cause more despair, continues with,
"He certainly wasn't thinking when he jumped straight into the whirlpool with your sword in hand."
"He took Tsubasa de Tobu with him?" She blows up.
She's lost her friend, her wings, and her sword in one fell swoop. She can feel her anger reaching dangerous levels. Smoke seeps out from between her lips.
"Zoro's definitely okay! Definitely!" Chopper pats her arm desperately.
There are tears in the reindeer's wide eyes, and her fury recedes at the sight. She doesn't know how old Chopper is, but the one who needs the comforting isn't her.
"He's an idiot," she spits out, "but he's a lucky one. He's definitely fine."
She's going to kick his ass when she sees him next though. Not for jumping in after her as she'd do the same for him, but for dragging her poor sword down with him.
Chopper sniffles a bit, and she pats his hat again. The tiny doctor really does resemble a stuffed toy, and looking at him makes her feel like she's forgetting something.
"Ah," she startles in realization, "where's Mini-Mihawk?"
She glances around the room but doesn't catch sight of her doll. She remembers having it when Nami and Robin dropped in, but she passed out after that.
"I have him. He's been delightful company," Robin says.
Robin picks up Mini-Mihawk from her lap—seems it was hidden behind Robin's book—and holds it out to her. A faint feeling of relief hits her as she puts the doll back in her kimono.
(Behind her, Nami and Chopper shudder once they catch sight of Mini-Mihawk's eyes. She doesn't notice.)
"I think it's time to leave this room," she says.
"Yes, that may be for the best," Robin nods.
Robin tucks a book under her arm, and all four of them stand in front of the door with the same frowning expression.
"Any ideas? Not even Chopper's Heavy Point can get these doors open." Nami shoots the door a glare.
"I can try again!" Chopper puffs up as if deeply offended.
"You really don't want to keep throwing yourself at it," she tells Chopper wryly. "Robin, there's a lever system to the doors. Do you think you can feel around outside for anything?"
Robin, showing more reasons as to why no one wants her for an enemy, gets them out easily enough. From there, Nami picks a direction to go in, and she walks behind with a knife at the ready.
Another explosion shakes the station around them. The lights flicker off, leaving them in the dark.
She sighs.
"One second."
She pulls out a knife and brings it to her lips, and the blade soon glows with flame, giving them a source of light. Nami's face of relief is the first thing she sees. She freezes as a familiar helmet looms behind Nami.
"Hello, girls."
