It's too much; I can't do this. Samira frowned and stooped in defeat. She was worn out; her arms were extremely heavy and ached. Why couldn't she do exactly what had been asked of her?
The glass bottles laid out in front of her were shattered into millions of pieces; not the outcome she desired. Her goal was to move them – not by much – but even this was proving to be too hard. Her Devil Fruit seemed to be based on destruction alone, and that was enough to discourage her. Maybe Law had it all wrong.
"May I have a break?"
Said man agreed; this would be the third she had taken since this morning. He had to hand it to her though, she was trying and had not yet given up.
"Five minutes, then either you stop or start again."
Samira nodded forlornly and rose, staggering over to him. Once she sunk down onto the ground next to the crate he was sitting on, she stretched her tired legs out and forced the numbness from them. It felt like small needles were piercing her skin.
"Any idea how long we've been out here?"
Law tossed a decanter of water near her feet. "Since sunrise; five hours, give or take."
"And I've done nothing but break a few hundred bottles since we started," she grumbled. Laying back in the grass, she covered her eyes with her arm and sighed. "I don't understand it; I can't move them."
Law remained quiet. He may have overanalyzed her Devil Fruit a bit; it was much easier than he'd originally thought. Arsenio explained it as a force, so he assumed at the time she could manifest the stored energy around objects, but that was not the case.
It was chaos, pure destructive force. Samira may have been able to limit her power, reduce its strength, but eventually it had to go somewhere.
"You can't tame disorder; you can lessen its range though."
Samira hummed in question and removed her arm. Did he say something?
Law had an idea, but Samira wasn't going to like it. He stood up and gathered his sword from the ground, then moved to put some distance between them.
She watched in skepticism. "What are you doing? Going to get a little training in too?"
"Stand up, Amunet-ya. We're going to try something," Law ordered. He didn't want to give away too much about his plan, but he knew that she'd never trust him again otherwise.
She listened without a complaint and stood in front of him. "Okay … what now?"
Law activated a room and unsheathed his sword. With a clean and well-planned swing, he cut her casted arm at the elbow joint. It fell with a thump onto the grass near her feet.
My arm … he took my arm. Samira stared in horror at the unnatural stump. There was no blood spewing from the wound and no pain to follow; it was just gone.
Like Arsenio. Was he going to cut her into pieces too?
"I don't understand. Just what are you doing to me?"
Law grinned. "Isn't it obvious; I'm tearing you apart."
"And what does this have to do with my training? Put my arm back on; I know you can."
He narrowed his eyes. "You don't get to order me around."
With another swipe of his sword, Samira felt her balance give out and collapsed onto her rear with a loud grunt. Her leg was gone now too. Anger consumed her; she felt utterly helpless.
"Did I strike a nerve, Amunet-ya?"
Yes, he did. The entire point of this exorcise was to help her control her power so that she didn't ever have to feel helpless again. Samira dug her teeth into her bottom lip and glared at him.
"Put me back together. I didn't ask," she snarled.
Wisps of red and black moved between her fingers like an electric current. She tossed out her hand and shot the bolt of energy towards Law, eager to hit him in his smug face. The bolt hit, but Law switched places with the crate he had been sitting on at last second; it burst into nothing but slivers of burnt wood and fell into the grass as the sparks hissed out.
Law moved quickly behind her and placed the blade of his sword to her exposed neck. "Almost had me there. Not too bad."
She panted in exhaustion. Maybe she took it too far, but surprisingly she felt much better. Still, she shot him a glare.
"My limbs; I want them back."
Law ignored her demand and grinned. "I can reattach them."
He laid his sword down and kneeled beside her, taking her casted arm into his hands. Her brown skin was warm against his palm – something he tried to ignore as he pieced her back together.
"Move your fingers for me," he ordered.
Samira did so and was surprised to see that her fingers worked as they had before. She sighed in relief.
"You scared me for a minute," she admitted. Looking out at the crate she blew apart in her attempt to attack Law, she bit her lip in shame. "I managed to do it again; destroy."
Law hummed and attached her leg. "Because that's precisely what your Devil Fruit is meant to do. I was wrong about its capabilities, believing that the force could be used to move an object. It crackles like an electric current, and expands rapidly on contact, like it did with the crate, but the longer it fosters inside you, the more damage it does."
"Not the exact words I wanted to hear, but I understand."
It was a part of her, connected to her emotions. It grew with her fear; her anger; her pain. Samira knew only one approach to control it; to control her emotions first.
"I know what I have to do," she stated in glee.
Law was eager to find out.
"Another time," he advised.
The wide-eyed look on her face made him laugh. "There are chores to do, and I still have materials to get in town before the stores close."
Because of the festival. Samira perked up and reached out, grasping Law's hoodie. "Go with me to the festival tonight. I really want to go."
Law grunted in annoyance. "Don't give me orders; I'm the captain and besides, we're leaving first thing in the morning once the Log Pose sets."
"That's why I asked you to go with me," she pouted. "So, you can keep an eye on me and make sure I return to the sub at a decent hour. We don't have to stay long; I just want to experience my first festival before I never get the chance to again."
Law pinched the bridge of nose. Was she serious? Her act may have worked on lesser men, but it wouldn't work on him. He separated from her and stood up, resting his sword against his shoulder.
"Go back to the sub. You have chores to do," he ordered.
Samira got up with a bounce in her step. "Then can we go? You said I have chores, but I can do them as soon as I get back."
Where was this energy coming from? Law rolled his eyes; he'd think about it.
Penguin stared at her in amazement.
"How?"
It's not like he doubted Samira, but he also knew how his captain was.
Samira honestly didn't know either. "He seemed a little annoyed, so maybe I pushed him too much."
"Either way," Shachi stated. He took the lead as he peeked over his shoulder at them. "He gave his permission, so we shouldn't question it."
Penguin agreed; however, he was still amazed. Samira somehow convinced Law into permitting them to proceed to the Festival of Colors. As sudden as it was – Samira went to them once the sun had set with the news – Penguin was more than pleased to celebrate one last night before the crew continued their journey, even though he was her sitter.
"Did Ikkaku not wish to go?"
Shachi grunted in annoyance.
"Is she gonna be there too?"
Samira held back a laugh. "Yes. I asked her too. She went ahead of us; said she had something to do before the festival started, but she promised to meet up once she was done."
"Perhaps she'll get lost," Shachi laughed.
No sooner had the word left his mouth, a colorful explosion of sea green dusted his face.
Samira covered her mouth and nose in fear of it being poison, but a familiar voice calmed her.
"Too bad, dunderhead."
Ikkaku came out from the shadows of the timberline with a laugh. The same green powder covered her hands and boiler suit, but unlike Shachi, she didn't seem to mind.
"The hell is this powder? Can it kill me?"
At his comment, she rolled her eyes. "No, idiot. It's made from corn starch and food colorant."
Penguin hummed in agreement. "I heard about this. The powders made in the village are thrown to pay homage to the bright colors seen during the spring season. There's a legend too; one about an evil demoness, but most of the village celebrates the Festival of Colors to bear witness to a sense of brotherhood and social harmony."
"Get the message," Ikkaku brought up. "I was doin' something nice for ya."
Shachi wiped his mouth. "Didn't have to throw it into mouth."
"No, but how else was I gonna shut that mouth of yours?"
He glared at her, and tried to argue back, but Samira interrupted him with a cute laugh.
"It sounds like so much fun. I can't wait."
Ikkaku beamed. "The inauguration started at an earlier time, but the festival is still on, music and bonfires. I bought enough powder to throw, since the colors stand out more in the daytime and we missed the literal color toss."
"That's no problem," Samira declared.
Penguin agreed. "Better get movin' then."
He led them down the remainder of the foot path towards the square; festive tunes lured them closer. The wavering lite of the bonfire caught his eye, and the mouthwatering scent of homecooked food consumed him; it was divine.
"Look at all the people," Samira stated.
She had never seen so many in one place; not all of them could be natives, she thought. Layers of bright powders covered their skin as they danced and partied. She was in awe. Lured forward, Shachi stopped her.
"Ya can't go," he mentioned.
She rose a brow and before she could ask why, he tossed blue powder over her head, dusting her stark hair. She laughed in excitement.
"Suits ya."
Penguin tossed his arm over his shoulder. "And a face full of green suits you."
He grunted and tossed some at said man; he was also hit in the face and gasped as it got into his mouth.
"Want some more?"
Shachi bombarded him with color, going as far as to chase him into the crowd.
"Can they ever act normal?"
Their crewmate rolled her eyes.
Samira laughed again. "I think it's cute. They seem close, like brothers."
"Those two have always been together," Ikkaku clarified. "The Captain recruited them at the same time; way before me or anyone else I heard."
She was intrigued. This was honestly the first bit of information about the crew Samira had learned. She smiled and tried to locate them in the crowd, but they were gone. Her attention went to the bonfire where several female natives were dancing, and her mind was set.
"I want to dance; come with me please."
Ikkaku turned red. "You sure? I can't dance."
"Doesn't matter," Samira admitted. "It's not routine, so we can dance any way we want."
She took her hand and ventured forward. The warmth of the fire lured her closer until she came to an opening that encircled the bonfire; the dancers were allowed a wide girth to prance around, enough space to accommodate several people. Samira closed her eyes, hearing to the sound of the drums. Her foot moved along with the rhythm and little by little her hips rocked with the tune.
"How do you do that? Get lost in the music."
Samira hummed. "It's not hard; I have a connection to it, many people do. I become part of the music and the music becomes part of me."
"Seems easier said than done," she confessed.
Samira shook her head in disagreement. She released her hand and intermingled with the dancers, facing Ikkaku as she pranced on the calloused pads of her feet to the metallic sound of the lute. She transferred her weight from one foot to the other, rocking her arms above her head as she leapt from side to side.
"Come and dance," Samira shouted.
Ikkaku refused, hesitant to embarrass herself, but Samira was having none of this. She led her into the circle and urged her to dance. Ikkaku glanced around for incentive; every person was dancing a unique way; no two people danced the same.
"Where do I start?"
Samira beamed. "Start with your body; move your hips or sway your arms."
As an example, she pirouetted and rocked her arms.
Ikkaku imitated her with a snort; it wasn't so bad. She wasn't as sinuous as Samira was, but she had a style of her own; unrefined and spirited.
Each danced in fits of laughter. This was the most fun either of them had in quite some time, Samira above all – the last occasion being her brother's inauguration into kinghood. It was nice to eventually relax a little. Too bad Law didn't come along with them; he could use a break.
Samira panted in exhaustion and searched the amassing throng; everyone seemed so pleased. This is the reason why a woman near stood out to her. That electric blue eye staring at her deeply with cruelty; that broad and recognizable grin.
Daiane?!
An explosion of color overwhelmed her, the thousand varying shades interflowing, masking her.
Ikkaku saw the wide-eyed expression on her face, like she had seen a phantom, and touched her arm.
"Are you all right?"
Daiane – if that happened to be her – had disappeared once the powder scattered.
"Yes … exhausted," Samira assured her.
A break was possibly what they required.
"We need to find the dunderheads, so let's do so," Ikkaku proposed.
Samira agreed in uncertainty and tailed her into the throng. She remained particularly close to Ikkaku until someone pulled on her arm and halted her; pressure from their grasp shot an intense pain up her arm.
"No reason to stop on my account, sweetheart. I rather appreciate seeing you dance; suggests that I haven't yet broken you."
Pulling her arm away, Samira turned and tried to grimace. She was horrified, because who stood before her was a pinnacle of torment and nightmares for her.
"My, what a lovely expression. Reminds me of our past sessions," Daiane cooed. Zany swirls overtook her eye; the other remained concealed behind a patch with an hourglass shape on it.
Samira trembled. Why was she here? Daiane wasn't a tracker. So, why send her? Sinking her teeth into her lip, Samira took an uneasy breath and prompted her Devil Fruit.
"You will not take me alive."
Daiane laughed. "That's the plan, sweetheart."
Spider-like appendages came from her back; two hoisted her from the ground and two rose above her head posed to strike.
Samira had certainly not seen her this way before. Was she a Zoan too? Her heart hammered in fear. Exactly how was she intended to battle this woman?