Samira rocked her rounded hips to a foreign tune as she waited for the timer to activate on the dryer. It wasn't hard work, despite her broken arm, but the quantity of dirty clothing made her head spin in doubt. She had never seen a pile so immense, and yet accustomed to the simple mechanics of the machine – Shachi taught her the effective way to use it – the pile never came to be done.
A curse, she alleged. The clothes had to be. How else were they amassing? Samira panted and brushed her lengthy white hair over her shoulder. It was sticky and musty beneath the engine room. Take away the music and she was confident that sooner or later she'd lose her mind.
In regards, Samira pressed the button to replay the piece once it ended. She resumed her dancing as the notes poured from the opening of the shark eye. Remarkable, this device was. Samira had never seen one before; Shachi called it a tone dial, a moon shaped shell decorated with russet bands that recorded sound and replayed it back. He revealed to her – when she asked – that a member of his crew bought the foreign dial at a merchant stall. It came preset with the tune, but could be recorded over if ever they found a piece better suited to their tastes. She hoped not; she honestly liked this tune. It lured her to dance.
The timer on the dryer went off with a loud buzz, and Samira returned to her work. She fished out the toasty polyester boiler suits and dumped them into a large rolling cart, then put in another soggy batch from the washer. Swaying over to the amassing pile on the floor, she gathered as much as her arms could tote, intending to wash another load, but a noise caught her attention.
Samira turned towards the stairs and saw Ikkaku there, watching her with a canny smile.
"Oh! I wasn't aware you were standing there." Samira laughed softly and filled the washer. She played off her shock incredibly well; her heart was honestly pounding.
Ikkaku ambled over and leaned against the machine. "Sorry for that, but I didn't want to interrupt. You dance extremely well."
"That … oh, that was just me swaying from side to side. There's an entire dance that goes along with it," she explained.
Samira was not timid when it came to music and dance. Her mother taught her plenty about the world; traditions and lore. Her favorite was learning the various styles of dance – she'd perform them in front of the people of her homestead. The one Ikkaku caught her doing was invented by her country.
"An entire dance, huh? Ya got to show me some time," said woman chirped.
Samira agreed and leaned against the machine next to Ikkaku. She got along fine with said woman; they shared an honest sized room, and with the brief time given, they became quick friends. Samira didn't reveal much about herself, other than her dislike of the crew's uniforms, but Ikkaku didn't share much with her either. She wanted to know how such an amiable woman came to be a pirate, but like herself, thought that whatever reason she had was her own business.
"Are these clothes cursed? They seem to be growing."
Ikkaku gave her a look of shock, then laughed. "Almost seems that way, doesn't it? But, no. Some of the crew in the engine room go through uniforms quicker than the others, so they dump them into the chute and they amass down here. Shachi did ya real dirty, making ya do this chore; though it's better than others."
"I'll be sure to thank him when I see him again," Samira huffed.
She would honestly like to see that; fortunately, she would. "We're expected to reach the next island soon; a place called the Crocus Sea. Ask nicely and the Captain may let you come with us."
"I'm certain he will," Samira said darkly.
Law swore to hand her over to the authorities upon reaching the island. She knew nothing about him, but she assumed he was true to his word. Her heart filled with dread. Was there no way to sway his decision? Perhaps ask him to let her go. Samira hadn't seen Law, or heard from him since he dispatched her from his care; her arm was evidently fine enough for him not to worry about.
"About how long do you suppose it will take to reach the island?"
Ikkaku hummed in thought. "Not sure, but trust me, you will know it when we get there."
"Mester (mister) Trafalgar stays mostly in his room, correct? I need to speak with him about something."
She wittingly smiled. "Remember to be nice."
Samira agreed with a brief nod and hurried up the stairs. The engine room was vacant as she ambled down the narrow walkway, a rattling web of various metal devices at both her sides, but the air was still hot and sticky. She felt a significant difference as she excited the room and moved up a second flight of stairs. This set opened up into the crew bunks, the exact area she needed to be in. Law had a room at the end of the hall – thank the gods that Shachi gave her a tour, at least of the bottom levels.
The same hatch door Samira involuntarily spent time behind came into view. She stood in front of it for a moment, hesitant to knock, but the eager part of her, wanting to get this over with, brought down her fist in a series of gentle knocks. She waited patiently for Law to allow her in, then did so as he directed.
Law was seated at his desk, combing through a thick book; its title she couldn't read. His eyes hardly lifted from its pages, but she knew that he was paying attention.
It surprised her even less that Law already knew why she was visiting him.
"Worried about my intentions with you?"
Samira sighed. "At first, of course, but I know that your plans for me have not changed. I came to ask for your permission to join the crew when they go onto the island."
"Do you take me for an idiot?"
She grunted and shook her head. "I assumed that you'd come along, and I … will stay by your side the entire time."
"That is something we can agree on. You can join us," Law affirmed. He sat the book down on the desk top and grinned. "But under one condition."
Samira narrowed her eyes. He agreed promptly; too promptly in her opinion. It crossed her mind that maybe he wanted her to ask, but Samira wasn't for sure. She was concerned, but agreed nonetheless.
"The island we're heading to is mostly uncharted. Its magnetic waves aren't strong enough to record with a Log Pose, so on our way across the Grand Line, we paid it no mind. I have reason to believe that something of interest to me is on that island, but I also believe the island to be dangerous, therefore if you intend to tag along, I demand that you wear a suit," he explained.
She pouted in defeat. "I should get ready then. Mutasakkir 'awi (thank you very much)."
Samira dismissed herself, averse to the whole idea – mostly because of the bounty; partially because she strongly disliked the boiler suits. In any case, she needed to speak with Ikkaku before they surfaced.
"Told ya so," Ikkaku hollered.
Despite her raising her voice over the alarm, Samira could not hear her. It howled across the sub like a monkey for a few minutes, then all at once ended. A sonorous voice replaced it, notifying the crew that the Polar Tang was surfacing. Samira removed her hands from her ears and gave Ikkaku an eager look.
"Can we go up now?"
She laughed. "Aye. The sub will resurface by the time we reach the upper level."
Samira lurched forward with the first step – the leather boots she was given were heavy and hard to move around in – but steadied herself as she followed the teasing woman from their bunk. She witnessed a small number of the crew scurry from their shared rooms; some heading towards the engine room, and some heading up to the next level. Samira took the stairs and closely walked behind Ikkaku as she led the way. She had been on the upper level a few times with Shachi; its where the crew ate breakfast and dinner, an extensive galley with a fridge and well stocked pantry were also on this level.
There was even a large hatch double door that Samira was curious about. She never asked Shachi where it led, but she had an idea. It was wide open as she and Ikkaku made it to the top of the stairs; rays of warm and natural light leaked in. She smiled in excitement. They were at last outside.
Samira walked out onto the deck and took a deep breath. The fresh air was marvelous; it was thick and humid, but superb compared to the stale air inside the sub.
"Nice, don't ya think?"
She agreed with Ikkaku and leaned back her head to glance up at the evening sky. The length of hair braided over her shoulder fell down her back as she did so. "Feels like forever since I've seen the sky. I don't know how any of you can tolerate that muggy submarine for long periods of time."
"You get used to it after so long," Ikkaku mentioned. She looked around and sighed in disappointment. Her crewmates were fast at work, expecting one another to contribute. "I should help out, but explore if you want to. I don't think the Captain will mind as long as you stay within his line of sight."
Samira thanked her and walked over to the side of the sub. A black wrought iron railing kept her from tumbling into the swampy water below, yet she was careful not to lean over it as she peered down at the frame of the sub. Her eyes widened in shock. It was larger than she thought; a dynamic yellow craft that barely cracked the surface. She spotted the emblem on the far-left side, the same smiling face Law wore printed on his hoodie; the same emblem printed on her uniform. It bothered her that she couldn't remember where she had seen it before. It was so unusual.
"What's on your mind, Amunet-ya?"
She lurched in fear, then gave Law a glare. "Don't sneak up on me. You about made me fall over."
"I doubt that," he stated. "But had you fallen in; you would have surely drowned."
Samira pouted. "Some doctor you are. Wouldn't even save me if I were to fall in."
"Does that mean you can't swim?"
She thought about it for a moment. No. She supposed that she never learned. "My country doesn't have a lot of rivers or lakes, and the few it does have, well … it's not safe to swim in them."
Law rested against the railing in thought. That didn't tell him much. Suppose he did toss her overboard. Would she sink, or swim? He was well aware of her wondering eyes on him.
"You're staring," he told her.
Samira felt her cheeks heat up. "I don't mean to, but I don't think I've seen you wear anything but a hoodie since I've been aboard your sub."
He was dressed in a sea foam colored jacket with yellow linked bands over an open vest with a hood and a light gray shirt. Samira caught a glimpse of ink peeking out from the neck of his crew cut, but opted not to comment about it; most people had tattoos.
"We're venturing into a tropical moist forest, Amunet-ya. My choice of attire is not really your concern," he retorted.
She agreed. "It's not. I was making an observation is all."
"Then you're aware that your arms are supposed to go into the sleeves of the boiler suit?"
Samira rolled her eyes. Yeah, she knew. There was nothing wrong with tying them around her waist. She was wearing the damned thing, wasn't she? Plus, she wore a loose-fitting shirt with bell sleeves to protect her arms.
"I can't fit my cast through the armholes."
Law grinned in enjoyment. "Then don't cry to me when you get eat up by insects."
"Tozz fiik (screw you)," she hissed.
He snorted. "Speak in a language that I can understand, Amunet-ya. I'd hate to exclude you from the party before you ever left the sub."
"Aye, Meister (mister) Trafalgar," she retorted with a pout.
She peered over the railing again. The sub appeared to be drifting down a wide bending river with an abundance of plant life on each side.
"Where is this river taking us?"
Law thought about keeping this information from her – she was all in all a visitor aboard his sub – but decided to keep her informed because she was going with them.
"The sub is moving to the other side of the island, but the plan is for us to disembark before then. Our helmsman will steer out to sea and watch for my signal to circle around and pick us back up," Law explained slowly. "I told you earlier that the Log Pose can't read the magnetic waves of the Crocus Sea because they're too low, however on the island is different. The magnetic waves are exponentially higher."
Samira understood to an extent. She knew a bit about navigating, forced to travel the sea on her own for some time. Once on an island, the Log Pose would reset. The given time in which this took varied.
"How long do you think it will take for the Log Pose to reset?"
Law was frank. "I don't know enough about the island to answer that. You will need to be ready when I give the signal; we don't intend to stop."
"What's the signal?"
She grunted in annoyance as he walked away, leaving her alone with unanswered questions. Samira mouthed a curse at him and continued her survey of the ship. At this time the crew had the sails lowered; two masts on the front and back levels of the deck showed the extent of the billowing wind. She watched them for a minute until her name was called; Shachi waved at her from the front deck, but remembering how dirty he did her, Samira playfully turned up her nose and ignored him. She didn't catch his reaction, but she heard Ikkaku laugh as she stood beside her.
"Serves him right," she chirped happily. "Keep this up, and he'll be reduced to a blathering mess by the end of the day."
Samira lifted her hand to her mouth and laughed. "He absolutely deserves it, but I hope he doesn't take this too seriously."
"He'll be fine … come on; the party is meeting up top." Ikkaku took her hand and led her back through the double hatch doors and back into the sub.
At the other end of the galley was a set of identical doors that opened up onto the upper deck. A small group of four were stationed there. Shachi and Penguin were among them – the latter she met shortly after Law released her from his care – including the doctor himself and a white bear wearing an orange boiler suit; it carried a large sword over its shoulder.
"Is the bear real?"
Samira was in awe. She had never seen a beast so cute in her entire life.
"As real as you and me, and he talks. His name is Bepo. You haven't yet met him, because he mostly stays in the control room. He's our navigator," Ikkaku explained.
She quietly squealed and rocked her hips from side to side.
"He'll be thrilled to hear that you aren't scared of him," the pirate mentioned with a smile. "He tends to get depressed easily, so if you speak to him, remember that."
Samira frowned. Why ever would she be scared of him? Her country was filled with frightening beasts and terrible people. She doubted that Bepo was anything like them.
"Get ready to go ashore," Law called out, breaking her thoughts.
She witnessed him walk over to the railing near the back of the deck and bounce something tiny and spherical in his hand. Samira looked to the horizon and noticed a small ship anchored near the bank. It was clearly a pirate ship. No one seemed to be on it though. Had it been abandoned? She barely had time to think before she was swallowed by a clear blue dome. Seconds later, she was staring at the Polar Tang as it sailed on by.
What just happened? Samira took an unsteady step and franticly glanced around. She and the others were on the deck of the abandoned pirate ship. But how?
"You okay, Samira?"
Said woman lurched forward in shock and gave Ikkaku a bemused look. "We were just on the sub. How did we get here?"
"Our captain has Devil Fruit powers," she easily explained.
Devil Fruit powers?
"I don't know what that means," Samira replied. She had never heard of such a thing. Did Law really move them from one area to another with this power?
Ikkaku hummed in thought. "I don't know too much about them myself, but some people even claim the eater of a Devil Fruit is cursed until death. The Captain would know more about it though."
"Cursed … like me," she uttered.
She and Law had more in common then she originally thought. Her eyes moved to said man as he spoke privately with Shachi and Bepo. She wasn't sure why, but she felt connected to him somehow. Like heavy rusted chains were wrapped around them.
Bepo curled up his nose in disgust. The smell was too strong to ignore. He easily located the source as soon as his captain moved them onto the ship.
"It's the same, isn't it?"
Shachi knew he didn't have to ask. It looked the same, a dart attached to a base that was shaped like the head of a frog. But what was it doing here? Lodged in the mast. And where was the crew? Penguin was still searching the insides of the ship as Law ordered as a precaution.
"Can you track the scent, Bepo? We need to find the crew," Law directed.
Said bear whined in protest. "I can, but it stinks horribly."
"Your nose will save us some time," Shachi mentioned, nearly shoving the dart into his face. "So, suck it up buttercup and get to tracking."
Bepo crooked his head and apologized. He coughed as the bitter smell invaded his nose. The scent went further into the forest.
"Northeast; that's the strongest and most recent trail."
Law sighed. He was hoping to find them closer to their ship. His eyes moved across the deck to Samira; she appeared distracted, staring at him in thought.
A grin curved his lips.
Soon Amunet-ya. Real soon.