So here is the 6th chapter. A whole 24.5 hours early than my profile said it would be released. I was hoping to make it longer, but I was losing the ability to be creative. It is a little bit of a sad chapter. I know what I want to happen for the ending and close to the ending, I just need to figure out how to get there. I think there will be one or two more chapters left. And sorry that I didn't get the guest appearance into this chapter, it will be in the next. I am going to edit all my chapters after I am totally done with this story. :yawns: anyway, I am off to bed now. Sorry for the icky chapter, my muse has gone on vacation. And this was more of a forced chapter than anything. Don't complain, I really wanted to update and really want to end this one soon.
Anxiously he paced the deck, cigarette butts littering the path. He inhaled, letting the rush of nicotine poison his body. Then that one was also pitched aside in favor for one with more death power. It was taking them too long to get to the island in the distance. Muttering curses under his breath, he began to pace even faster, as if thinking that would make the ship go faster.
"Oi, cook." The swordsman growled at his shipmate "Stop." The cook didn't even bother to acknowledge his nakama's presence. Back and forth, back and forth, scowling the swordsman placed a hand on Sanji's shoulder. Roughly Sanji brushed it aside and continued pacing.
"What is making you so nervous about that island?"
"Nothing." The reply was curt. Grumbling, Sanji stalked back to the kitchen. It was useless watching the island. No matter how much he paced they would not reach the island any sooner. So instead, it was best to busy himself with things like cooking and keeping Luffy out of the food.
After Sanji had left, Zoro turned and leaned against the railing, eyeing the advancing island. Dammit stupid cook. Why are you so nervous about reaching that island anyway? Closing his eyes and turning around, Zoro slid to the ground. Sleep as usual called to him. However, his normal naps were very few and far between these days. Ever since the navigator left, his dreams had been haunted.
He didn't know why he cared so much that she left. He hated to admit it however, but she was a major staple of the group. No…they were all staples of the group. Gods, he missed her. Without her, Sanji and his arguing and fighting were just that. Fighting and arguing. When she was her, he was always defending her honor and protecting her from the perverted cook. Not that he would admit that or anything. But she was gone, no denying that. Now it was just punch, hit, kick. All of them were now meaningless.
Her face appeared, as it always does, first. Her shining eyes, her orange hair, as always, she smiles at him. He reaches out for her, begging her to come back. Her arms materialize then, reaching out for him. Fingers just inches from his. So close, why can't he touch her? And then she is gone. Just like Kuina. Only this time it is worse. Kuina, he knows isn't coming back, something he accepted. But with Nami…she…she is still out there somewhere. Perhaps waiting for him to come to her.
He couldn't sleep, not with her in his dreams. Grunting he stood up, muscles rippling. In the year, since she had left, he had gained more strength, more stamina, and more physical power. It was her fault; she was the one haunting his dreams. And because he couldn't sleep, he trained.
As he walked to the other end of the ship, to where his equipment lies, he passed the kitchen. He paused outside the door momentarily, still wonder why Sanji was so nervous about this island. Shrugging it off, he left again.
Sanji sat at the table, slowly inhaling the nicotine from his cancer stick. A year…had it really been a year? He let that fact play in his mind for awhile. Yes indeed it really had been a year. A whole year since she had left them. His hands shook, a year. Not that it mattered anymore. This island…the island that was in the distant. This island was the one she was on. He chuckled to himself silently, it was his secret. He would not tell the others, until after he had seen her first. He wanted to question her, himself. He understood, the first time she had left. But the second time, not at all. A whole year. Such a long time, they would have a lot of catching up to do. He stood up and turned to the oven. He didn't want Nami's cake to burn.
She shivered as her feet touched the cold floor. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself back under the blankets. Eyes halfway closed, she yawned and rubbed her eyes. A soft groaned escaped her lips as she pushed herself out of bed and walked over to the crib. A tear stained face met hers. She smiled and picked up the little one, cooing softly.
The infant grunted contently and cuddled to her warmth and familiarity, instantly falling back asleep. So much like your father. Carefully she put the child back into bed, watching as the little one slept. Sleep called her, but she stayed at the crib's side, watching as her child slept. So precious, so delicate, a dry chuckle escaped her. Giving a small kiss to the sleeping one, she slipped on a coat and wandered outside.
Not too far from the house, a small cross stood. Kneeling in front of it, she pulled away some weeds. Looking towards the sky, she blinked back tears. Life is so full of mysteries. Mysteries like how you realize how much someone means to you after they are gone. Why one child survives but the other dies. These mysteries are not meant to be solved.
When she had left, she managed to convince herself it was for the best. She kept herself busy by moving from island to island, leaving little time to think about them. Of course it is hard to travel when you are pregnant. Let alone pregnant with twins. At her departure, she was just started to not fit into her clothes. And then bam! One day she woke up and she was a whale. But the hardest part was when she had delivered. Two babies. A boy and a girl. The boy was sickly and small. The girl strong. The midwife, a middle aged woman whom had become her closest friend, only offered the navigator condolences. It was unlikely the boy would live longer than a week. It was then, when Nami wished she would have stayed on the Going Merry. Surely Chopper would have been able to save her child. And she really wanted Zoro to be there. Somehow, just him being there would have made everything better. Yes it is funny how sometimes the weak survive and the strong die.
Perhaps, if the boy had died, she wouldn't have cried as much. At least for him, she would have been prepared. But when the girl died, it was a shock. Babies die all the time it isn't unusual. They really are delicate creatures. The girl had just stopped breathing. Simple as that. The boy continued to live and grow stronger every day.
Aiko, her name carved lovingly into the wood. Aiko- little love. And she was her mother's little love. Tears flowed freely that day and everyday Nami visited her daughter's grave. Such precious things shouldn't have to die. Wiping away the tears, the redhead stood, placing a kiss on the cross. She needed to sleep; soon the survivor would awaken and want to be feed.