"But this... this grudge you hold,"

The tallest man said reproachfully, his slit-like eyes narrowing,

"It seems so painfully juvenile."

"I agree, I agree!"

Agreed a man by his left, waving his arms animatedly about as his head bobbed up and down.

"Never stated better,"

Stated a man by his right, running a hand over his smooth black hair.

"But you say we'll get paid much for this, chuu?"

Said another man next to the black-haired man, who looked slightly skeptically at the two others before them.

"Yes,"

Said Krieg, his eyes glittering maliciously at the four men who towered before him, and nodded to Gin who stood beside him. Gin picked up a canvas bag and practically ripped it open, his eyes darker than usual as the contents of the bag became very visible.

The man to the tallest's left widened his eyes and he let out a whoop and a holler of,

"Wow!! That's much more than usual!"

He received a violent punch to the head from the black-haired man, glaring at him.

"Shut up, Hachi. Just keep your mouth shut."

"But you-- you spoke too!"

Hachi said tearfully, when the man next to the black-haired man snorted.

"Yes, but unlike you, chuu, we know when to shut up."

"You spoke too, Chuu!!"

Hachi cried, horrified that no one seemed to see the injustice in their accusations, but the tallest snapped,

"Shut up, all of you."

Then he faced Krieg and narrowed his slit-eyes further.

"This is only half the money you promised. I am no fool. Do not try to deceive me."

"The other half comes once you have completed your task,"

Krieg said, his smile turning into a wide one.

"Where exactly are you getting this money, chuu?"

Chuu asked suddenly, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"That is none of your business,"

Gin began to respond, but was interrupted by Krieg saying quite leisurely,

"Big thanks to Krow. I trust you know Captain Krow?"

"That would be that stupid Black Cat gang's captain, would it? Yes, we do know of him. But what of the man who never shows his face?"

"Krow is actually Kurohadol Krow. You know, manager of Feline Corporates. Very sneaky man, and also very rich."

"Is that so?"

The tallest man said, his eyes glinting in interest. The other three men also had smiles spreading on their faces, causing Gin to narrow his own eyes in suspicion.

"This Krow man. He's very rich?"

The black-haired man said, and Krieg nodded almost too eagerly.

"Then... you wouldn't complain if we asked for more, would you? Wouldn't hurt him, would it?"

Said Chuu, still smiling. Anger flooding Gin, he opened his mouth to tell them to keep to their part of the deal, when he was forced to stop abruptly when he received a very silent but very painful and swift kick from Krieg.

"Of course, Arlong,"

Said Krieg with the same too-eager tone,

"How much more?"

Gin hadn't flinched a bit, but his eyes narrowed beneath his band, and he did not speak throughout the rest of the negotiations again.





"Wait!!"

Nami's breath caught in her throat as Sanji's voice resounded behind her, the voice carrying familiarity that reached further than her mind and reached achingly deep.

She knew it was pretty futile to run by the time she'd reached the pavement, but she tried. As she predicted, it was to no avail; Sanji's long strides caught up easily to her and he grabbed her shoulder tightly with surprising force.

"Hold on a second, Nami-san,"

He said, his breath quick but not panting, and defeatedly Nami turned to face the source of the aching throb she had in her chest. As soon as her eyes met the sight of Sanji, the ache seemed to almost solidify; she swallowed with difficulty before forcing her eyes up to meet his confused ones, shadowing her own confusion with a cold glaze.

"I... you always... I-- I mean..."

It seemed that the model had followed her on a whim or something similar. Now that he had actually caught up to her to talk, however, he seemed to be finding it hard to say what was on his mind. His brows slightly furrowed as he gesticulated with a frantic air to his motions, Nami waited with a cool patience.

She knew her sudden leave was uncalled for, and had probably not covered the fact that it had been because of Sanji very well. Nami therefore made herself stand still and wait. She hoped he would give up and leave. Most guys who had held interest in her did that once they found out she had not too much interest in serious relationships.

"Why?"

He said finally, fixating his eyes to hers. She could see how earnest and how honestly confused he was; she could see his almost desperate yearning to know. That desperacy tugged at a string in her, and the pit of her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as she realised she knew-- no, recognised this desperacy to know her. She had met many with it, but none so much as this young university student before her, and never so painfully familiar.

She took in a breath, concealing how painful her windpipe had suddenly become from being contracted, and spoke a lie.

"Can't you take a hint if someone doesn't like you?"

Nami said coldly. She looked away from his eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. She didn't know why, but she was sure she'd do something out of balance if she looked at him. It didn't make much a difference, though. She could actually sense his surprise and his hurt, especially with his short intake of breath, and his uncertain stance in standing.

She tossed her hair back, an action most people she knew, including Vivi, took as an incredibly snobbish move.

"I don't know how many girls have rejected you, but you can't be this desperate. Or dense."

Snapping her head away, she turned to walk away, not needing to look to know his jaw had dropped. However, rather than the clearer feel of mind she had been expecting, she felt a lead-like heaviness drop in her stomach, a disturbing haze filling her head.

Wh-what? What's going on?

She thought, her vision going slightly dizzy. Her vision before her seemed misted, and she tried to shake her head to clear it. It only made it worse, and she could feel a cold and painful pin-like prickling at where her heart was.

Is it-- Is it Sanji-kun? No! Not-- Sanji-- Sandy White, I need to get away from Sanji-ku--no, Sandy--

Utterly confused and clouded with a sheen of cold and pain, Nami was startled out of the strange fog with the sound of Sanji's voice. It was clear, and it penetrated her predicament like a knife. The voice was filled with hurt; even moreso because he didn't know the reason for it.

"That's not fair, Nami-san."

He said. The ache was still there, but the foggy vision was all gone. Slightly relieved but mostly angered, Nami said through her teeth,

"Get over it."

"No,"

He said insistently, and she felt horrified to feel him come closer to her. It had to be him causing the pain, and she didn't care if he didn't know he was doing it. She didn't know why or what was going on either. But she sure as hell knew she didn't want him to come any nearer.

"There's a link between us, between us all. We were just talking about it. Why are you-- treating me like this?"

His hand brushed against her palm. It had an electric effect; the pain intensified ten-fold and she let out a choked gasp as she clutched at her chest. She spun around on her heel, anger filling her senses hotly, mixing badly with the cold and sharp prickles at her chest. The feelings churned and she felt sick, but she wanted this guy away from her-- NOW.

"Don't touch me,"

She said, her voice shuddering as she spoke, and steeled herself to meet his eyes when saying this.

To her shock, Sanji's eyes were full of a terribly familiar pain. Rejection. She'd... she'd seen it more than that time at the dance. She'd rejected him before. Many times. He looked so lost. Like he really didn't understand. And as though he truly deserved to know. He looked as though he had to hear her tell him exactly what she thought of him.

"I... don't understand,"

He said brokenly, his eyes searching hers with that same desperate yearning,

"Why do you keep turning me away? Is-- is it something I do? Something I-- I did? Why is it that-- that you always run from me?"

To her immense shock, she felt sharp tears rush to the back of her eyes; she tried hard not to blink and felt horrified at herself to feel the hot saltiness gather.

Why am I-- what are these tears?

The lead-like burden returned to pressure her inner-chest heavily; she took in a shaky breath before snapping with as much indignation as she could muster,

"I do not-- run from you. I have never--"

"You do too,"

He interrupted, and Nami realised he was gathering a determined resolve to pull this out of her,

"You always turn away when I look at you --"

Her breath caught in her throat like a lump, the pin-pricks at the back of her heart turning to repeated, deeply driven nails, cruelly cold and pain-staking,

"-- you decline everything I try to do for you --"

The nails turned to knives that stabbed deeply and callously,

"-- and you always say something so damn cold and calculated --"

The knives in her chest twisted, and with a mixed cry of pain and confusion, the tears she had tried to hold in burst and rolled down her face. But she held her face up, and looked straight into his eyes.

"Do you want to know why?"

Nami snarled, her voice miraculously clear and unshaky, but her eyes narrowed and the tears continuing to fall,

"Are you that curious to know why I don't want you freaking near me?!"

Her voice raised an octave with her last three words, and she could see through a watery sheen of tears that Sanji looked completely stunned.

"I can't explain it myself. If I could have, I would have. But I couldn't, but if you really must hear the freaking reason, then I'll have you know that every freaking time you step near me, something-- something goes wrong!!"

Nami realised with a jolt that this was the first time she had said this out loud to anyone. But now that she had started, she didn't know how to stop.

"You come close to me, I get sudden pangs of migraines, and my chest starts contracting or spasming -- whatever you want to brand it. And although I don't understand it, there's a pain. I feel like someone's stabbing the freaking hell out of me. Whenever you-- you smile, or you--"

She was starting to lose her control; her voice was getting unlevelled again, and she paused to regain a normal voice before saying in a rush,

"Whenever you try to get all close or nice to me, it bloody hurts!!"

There was a very long silence between the model and herself, and Nami realised with a start that people around her were trying not to stare. Probably thought it was a lover's spat. The thought made her feel worse, and she felt so sick she could retch all of a sudden. The pain had intensified to a point she had a distant and vague thought about a hospital.

His expression was unreadable for a few seconds. To Nami's shock, he next spoke in a completely calm and cool voice.

"I-- I still don't understand. Nami-san, you're saying you are sick, but you're also pinning the blame on me. How could I be making you sick? Do-- do I disgust you or something?"

Nami felt as though the bottom of her stomach had dropped out, and so had everything else but her heart, still beating out rhythmetic spasms of pain. And she found she couldn't speak - not because she had nothing to say, but because she found her throat too tight to use. Hearing her silence and misinterpreting it, Sanji's eyes rounded before growing so sad she couldn't understand how anyone could look so terribly wounded when they looked perfectly fine.

"Is-- is that it? Is that what you were trying to say? What you meant?"

What tumbled out of her mouth next was not what she had intended to say.

"Stop asking so many questions."

His eyes widened for a split second before narrowing. But Nami could see he was not angry, but disbelieving.

"Sorry?"

"I said, stop asking so many questions. You're even stupider than I thought. Can't you take rejection like a freaking man? Or do you need me to tell you word by word?"

He did not reply, and Nami had the impression he was still trying to swallow the words she had spat out. Before he could, she barrelled on against her instinct.

"I don't like you. You're freaking arrogant and you seem to think that by getting to me you're going to get Vivi. Or something like that. Or maybe you just think that because I'm so-calledly popular, you've got to add me to your list of 'girls I've wooed in my pathetic life-span'. Well, you've got another thing coming."

She avoided his eyes carefully, and quite involuntarily took a step backward. She felt as though each word she said hammered a nail into her aching heart, but it felt somewhat safe at the same time because she was nailing a board around it. She had exposed enough, hadn't she?

"Guys like you sicken me. The way you think you're so freaking cool. Like you really think you're so great. Freaking up yourself. Whatever. And you pretend like you're so nice--"

Her last word cast a sledgehammer at her direction, and she winced visibly but continued,

"Like you really like me--"

Another word, another blow; she choked on her next words,

"As though you really freaking care--"

She dimly realised her throat was so constricted her words were coming up quieter each second, her eyes keeping her vision in a constant haze because of the tears slipping past her cheeks. She took another step backwards, ready to spit out her last words and stalk away, wanting to leave this terrible pain and confusion forever.

"I find you repulsive. I hate you."

What happened next, Nami was so totally unprepared for it took her seconds to react to it. Sanji grabbed her shoulders and gave her a sharp shake, her hair-bun shaking a little loose, and her eyes met his gaze.

Concern and worry flooded his eyes and his voice, and Nami could hear his words even through her stange, paralysing shock, and the pounding pain in her ears.

"Is something wrong, Nami-san? You-- you don't seem very-- are you feeling all right?"

He was no where near angry.

For some reason, that pissed the hell out of her.

"Damn it, Sanji-kun!!!"

She yelled, not caring or even noticing the looks her outburst attracted, and she balled her hands into fists so tightly her knuckles cracked. Without warning she slammed them against Sanji's ribcage. It wasn't a girly fist-hitting scene. Her anger surged through her, and with a true intention to hurt, she jammed her fists against his chest again, screaming,

"@#$% it, Sanji-kun, why the hell aren't you angry?! Why the hell are you worried about me?!!"

Tears were running uncontrollably past her chin and dripping onto her collar-bone, but she didn't give a damn. He didn't reply, his hands still at her shoulders, and almost blinded by the anger this gave her, Nami rammed her knuckles into his chest again, angry at the fact it seemingly had no effect.

"What do I have to do to make you go away?! How will you freaking give up?!!"

She glared up defiantly, her arms working to rid herself of his grip, and successfully made his hands drop to his sides. When she met his gaze, however, she froze at his expression.

He was smiling. Dear God, why is he smiling? Nami thought desperately.

"Uhm... you can't do much... you can't seem to explain why you feel repelled from me, Nami-san, but I have the same unexplainable attraction to you,"

He said in a helpless tone. The honesty in his voice struck Nami more painfully than anything else that had ever hurt her.

How can he still say that, after all the things I just told him?!

He kept his slightly lop-sided smile, still smiling at her. Not confidently or painfully. He looked hopelessly lost, but was smiling reassuringly for her, at his own expense.

For her, at his own expense.

The words seemed to flare in forcefulness, and for a reason Nami didn't know, they made the walls around her heart crumble and fall apart. All of a sudden, the painful burning spread like wildfire to her chest, filling her with a terrible intensity she had never felt before.

Pressing a palm to her mouth to muffle the sob she had let out as the words she had conjured burned mercilessly into her, Nami began to cry in harsh fits, her other arm encircling her own waist in a self-hug of poor assurance. Her chest and her mind pounded as she cried of both the pain and the frustration.

Sanji looked absolutely lost. He very, very badly wanted to help her, but he just didn't know how.

He reached for her, hesitantly, wanting the same spontaneity that had caused him to grab her shoulders to give him the courage to hold her and be some sort of comfort, despite how weak it may be, to her.

But his arms stopped before they could touch her.

He couldn't.

His arms fell to his sides and he stood, watching her tears and her pain in his own complete helplessness.