Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.
Sicktember Prompt Alt.5: Asleep on the Couch, with Sanji (requested by anonymous)
Silence wasn't something Nami normally associated with her nakama. Whether it be Luffy throwing himself across the deck with whooping laughs, Usopp telling tall tales to an ever-awestruck Chopper, or Brook humming while caressing a guitar, to name but a few things, the Thousand Sunny was never silent.
Now, with half of their nakama absent, there was an unnatural void of sound hanging across the ship. Water lapped against the bow, wind played with the sails, and ropes creaked familiarly, the same as they always did, but it felt just a little bit hollow. And that was ridiculous.
Earlier, the gaping hole made sense. Sanji was gone, whisked off by the family he'd never mentioned to marry one of Big Mom's daughters, and subsequently they'd been missing one of their number. One, crucially vital member, because they were all as important as breathing to each other, no matter what some of them said out loud, who had left willingly, hurt their captain, hurt her.
Nami definitely hadn't managed to forgive that yet, no matter how much part of her heart sung at the knowledge their number was once again restored – increased, even, once Jinbei caught up to them. She wasn't sure how she'd forgive it, either, even though she knew that one day she would – that was what nakama, true nakama, did, after all.
But Sanji was back, now. Battered and more than a little bruised, just like the rest of them, but back in the kitchen and kicking Luffy out whenever he got too close to the food being prepared even if it was clear he was simply going through the motions right now, trying to rediscover his feet because he'd been an idiot and left them. The Thousand Sunny shouldn't feel so quiet, so empty.
Nami could only hope that it would be put to rights once they reached Wano and reunited with the rest of their nakama, even though that came with the knowledge that they'd be in Kaido's territory – the Yonkou certainly wasn't going to let that fly once he found out, and the Straw Hats had never been good at subtlety. In the meantime, something hung over their ship, and it left her feeling rather ill at ease.
The moon peeked out behind some clouds, streaks of cirrostratus that shone silver in the moonlight, illuminating the silent, still deck. Brook was at the helm, taking over from her for the second night watch, and the rest of her nakama were all tucked away in bed, where she was supposed to be heading.
She didn't. Maybe it was because it was Carrot, not Robin, sharing her cabin – and no matter how much she adored the Mink, it was her nakama she needed – but she couldn't bring herself to head to bed just yet. Instead of slipping through the door, her feet led her down to the grassy deck and she ghosted across, past the swing and the mast, before finding herself pushing the door to the aquarium open.
Once again only lit by what moonlight was trickling through the windows, reflecting and refracting off of the scales of the fish swimming around even in the middle of the night, it took her a moment to spot the lump on the couch.
None of her nakama should be in here at this time – she shouldn't be in here at this time, either. Brook was the only one that should be awake, while the rest of them slumbered away beneath his feet, secure in the knowledge that their musician and ship were keeping them safe while the sun was down.
It wasn't Carrot or Chopper; the unmoving figure was too big to be either of them. It was too still to be Luffy, and too quiet, no matter how many injuries her captain was recuperating from.
This was an encounter she wasn't sure she was ready for, but her feet took her forwards instead of back, towards where silver moonlight shimmered through ruffled blond locks and kissed the bizarrely curled eyebrow she'd always wondered at and now knew was hereditary.
Sanji wasn't moving. His eyes were closed and he was half-curled up on the long, plush sofa that ran all around the room. Breath fluttered in and out of a partially open mouth, causing loose hairs cascading in front of his face to quiver.
Asleep.
The rush of relief that coursed through her was pursued immediately by guilt. He was back, was nakama once more, and had sworn that he would never, ever, leave them again. She shouldn't feel wrong-footed and awkward around him, but she was mature enough to know that whatever happened, their relationship wouldn't be able to return to the way it used to be.
Nami only hoped that it went the same way as the Usopp saga, long ago at Water 7, and brought them tighter together rather than driving a rift deeper than it already had.
Why Sanji was sleeping in the aquarium rather than the boys' cabin likely stemmed from the same place as her own unease; Sanji knew he'd messed up, acknowledged it and was trying to earn the forgiveness Luffy had already bestowed upon him. It didn't take much of a ridiculous leap of man-logic to reach the conclusion that sleeping in the same room as the nakama he'd betrayed was wrong.
That wasn't Nami's place to deal with. She could bash him on the head and scold him 'til kingdom come, and he might even obey her, but it wouldn't be what he needed. This was a job for the boys to handle, although she suspected nothing would get through to him – no-one would try to get through to him, what with Luffy's attitude of letting nakama work their own problems out at their own pace and the other boys currently on the ship following his lead – until they were a whole crew again and Zoro kicked his ass for being stupid.
Sanji hadn't even pulled a blanket over himself, an act that could be laziness or self-flagellation, and that was something Nami could deal with. The last thing they needed after finally getting their cook back was Sanji falling to something as mundane as a cold.
He was, despite everything, still her nakama. Their relationship was bruised, and a little torn, but the bonds between the Straw Hats were tougher than that and she did still care.
If she didn't care, the whole situation wouldn't have hurt so much in the first place.
A throw was bundled awkwardly on the other side of the room, a left over from the last time they'd all been together, admittedly with the added company of Law and Caesar, and the Sunny had been happy. She collected it, feeling the cool fabric slide over her arms smoothly, before padding back over to Sanji's still-sleeping form.
While he wasn't sleeping in the cabin, he had at least remembered to change into sleep clothes. In the absence of his usual sharp shirt, bandages and bruises stood out starkly against his skin in a reminder of what he'd gone through before returning to them. With those on full display, it was much harder to forget that she was mad at him for leaving, and not for simply getting himself hurt – although the two were inseparably entwined so maybe it didn't matter.
The middle of the night was not a time for deep thoughts like that, even if that was all her mind seemed to want to conjure. With a near-silent sigh, she gently draped the fabric over him, hiding all the bruises and bandages from sight. It didn't really help her thoughts to settle, didn't erase the knowledge that they were there, but somehow the little gesture helped her feel a little more like nakama again.
Not one of their – their – Monstrous Trio for nothing, Sanji stirred slightly, curly eyebrow twitching as something registered in one of his sleeping senses.
Nami was still not ready for that encounter.
She didn't flee, but suddenly her cabin with Carrot instead of Robin didn't seem like such a bad idea and her feet were carrying her out onto the grassy deck, past the mast, and up the steps to her cabin door.
Sanji didn't follow. He probably hadn't woken in the first place, despite the slight stir, and tension bled from Nami's shoulders as she passed over the threshold and closed the door behind her.
She'd face Sanji again in the morning, when the sun was up and their nakama were in earshot and everything was as normal as it could be when half of them were missing. He'd make her an extravagant breakfast that tasted absolutely divine and she'd thank him and they'd try to re-establish the baseline of their relationship.
Nami didn't know how long it would take, but she knew one thing: she couldn't wait until her nakama were all together and whole again.
I have never written Nami before, and I also haven't read WCI since it was first released so there might be some inaccuracies in here where I've misremembered things, but it was fun to poke at!
I'm dabbling in Sicktember over on tumblr! Only doing prompts that I get a character request for, so feel free to drop by with a request. You can find the list on the sicktember tumblr blog!
Thanks for reading!
Tsari