Chapter 2: "Two Princes"
Upbeat pop songs had never been dragging on this slowly. Sunshine was streaming in through the kitchen window, all the chocolate frosted donuts and hot drinks were gone, and Vivi was humming softly along with one hit wonders of the 90's. How could anything have caught up with Nami's reeling mind and fidgety fingers?
The caffeine seemed to be kicking in. Refrains about obnoxious lemon trees, sleepy satellites and stray trains and whatnot were slipping out of her mouth, just like the brush in her hand was sliding through Vivi's long hair.
Oh, how many times they had joked about it. That Vivi's blue hair was the symbol of some kind of royal descent. Well, it certainly was more apparent than blue blood. And made her look that much more stunning, how her curls fell around her face and shoulders, contrasting against her dark skin tone and deep brown eyes…
Nami thought back to when she had first seen Vivi. The striped corset top she had been wearing had been so revealing it had been illegal. Well, according to the dress code. And the skirt Nami herself had worn hadn't been any more modest. Everyone had embarrassing stories about high school, but falling for the rival head of a girl gang should have been at least in the top ten. But after their several detention times together, the two of them had become fast friends. And more. Nefertari Vivi, the determined student, the passionate advocate of life and fun and one of the fiercest women Nami had ever known. She could have named other traits to her. However, those had to stay between the two of them and the walls of a certain dorm room…
"Have you reached a hundred strokes yet?" Vivi giggled sweetly. There was a tiny click as she put the cap back onto the nail polish bottle on the table.
"Haha, almost," Nami snorted. "I'm at sixty."
"Liar. Haven't you passed that thirty-five strokes ago?"
"Oh, so you counted?" laughing, Nami tickled Vivi's neck.
"Well, maybe~" Vivi wasn't shy to retaliate, though, flailing and swatting the naughty fingers away with the nail polish brush in her streak of sea green along the back of her hand reminded Nami just who she was messing with. Just like old times.
"Heh, you sneaky girl," she chuckled, and, ignoring the smear, she continued with the last brush-strokes. "There. One hundred. Your Majesty is ready," Nami proclaimed dramatically, then she put the brush down onto the table near the nail polish, almost daring it to spill some more on her. Wow, what was in that coffee...
"Awww, too bad," Vivi lamented. "Will you braid it for me? Pleeease?"
"Oh, all right," she feigned a tired tone, even whilst knowing Vivi wasn't fooled. They had done each other's hair at least a thousand times, and Vivi's hair was just too fun to play with. Besides, why else would Nojiko have taught her fancy braiding techniques than to doll-up the girl she loved?
That Kohza was one lucky guy. Vivi was even wearing her favourite dress to go see him, the flowy and silky pink one her father had sent her. Though, it still wouldn't make the news he was about to get any sweeter… Nami couldn't help but laugh, imagining his face.
"Could you please just pretend you weren't outrageously happy about this?" Vivi sighed and turned a bit to look up at her. Nami felt like an open book to her sometimes, the way she could always see through her tough front. It was a little scary, but also amazing.
"Oh come on, don't spoil it for me," Nami teased, then gently placed her hands onto both sides of Vivi's head. "And look forward, or else your braid will get crooked."
"Okay-okay..." Vivi sighed again, but laughed all the same. Nami was a bit worried she wouldn't get to hear that sound for days. "You're so mean, you know."
"Yes, I'm aware, my dear. Now hold still, hmm?"
Vivi waved her hands in dismissal, in that funny little jazzy style that always made Nami smile, then obediently faced forward again. The strong scent of nail polish wafted up into the air again as her nails on her right hand were increasingly turning more colourful. And Nami began dividing the rivulets of blue, reveling in their softness.
Vivi was being unfair, if Nami was perfectly honest. The two of them had dated in university for a while, and even when distance had made them grow apart after that, Nami still considered them more than just friends. It was like a dagger to her chest when Vivi raised objections.
Because there was the thing with Kohza. He had always been there, lurking behind the sidelines, as Vivi's oldest friend from home. Had they gone to the same school, they might have even become high school sweethearts, winning the crown of Prom King and Queen together and cheesy stuff like that, but fortunately for Nami, she hadn't needed to witness them holding hands or kissing in the schoolyard or making photos with tiaras on their heads. No, Kohza had remained in Egypt while Vivi had moved here to study. Nami had actually never met him before.
But the two had written each other every day, for years. And with how happily Vivi talked about him, Nami had doubted her chances with her for very long. But oh, that wonderful day, at the beginning of university, when Vivi had asked her out for the first time… Nami would forever cherish that year they had had together.
However, it hadn't taken too long to notice it; the small thorn. Vivi hadn't been happy with her. Not completely. Second year had come, and Nami had at first blamed her girlfriend's decision to study abroad for a year for their breakup, but years later, it had occurred to her that there had been more. However, the time to find out what exactly that was, had been only last Friday night.
After a year of living in the same town again, Nami had admitted to Vivi that her feelings for her had been rekindled, and Vivi had seemed happy enough. But she had asked for time to think about it, leaving Nami confused. And finally, on that Friday night, Vivi had finally come out with the reason, the thorn, the obstacle.
Kohza was apparently in town. And he had confessed to Vivi as well as Nami had...
They had never screamed like that at each other, her and Vivi. Not sincerely, not aiming to really bruise… And after all of that mess, Vivi had been sitting on her favourite carpet in her living room - just outside the kitchen; Nami could peek out on it from where she was standing. Her soft, blue hair had been a mess as she had been sitting there, in tears, staring at nothing, and Nami just hadn't been able to bear it… She wanted to be old ladies together with her, the girl of her dreams. Vivi had thrown that all away.
Because she couldn't choose. That was what Vivi had said to her that night. She would have either wanted to be with them both, the three of them together; or to love neither of them. Nami had blatantly refused. And Vivi had a notion that Kohza would do the same…
In a few minutes. After Vivi would meet him in a café at the local shopping mall.
No, Vivi wasn't playing fair at all. Especially not to her own self. She could have just chosen one of them and leave the other to suffer, but instead, she wanted to take all the sadness as her own burden. And when Nami had called her out on that…
Damn, she had gotten so drunk on Saturday. Those trays of beer had cost her a fortune - Sanji-kun had been too wasted to invite her… She shouldn't have made him drink so much.
And still, that bright Sunday morning, Nami had travelled the whole tramline, deathly hungover, only to get Vivi her favourite chai, from the only shop in town that had made it the Egyptian way. And donuts. A whole lot of donuts. She originally intended for Vivi to have them all, but Vivi would have had none of that. They had shared it all, like they had used to, and Vivi had finally smiled at her again, with chocolate frosting stuck on the corner of her mouth. 'I still want the words, though,' she had said, and smirked at Nami. Leaning both her arms on the kitchen table, her chin delicately placed on the backs of her hands, with her glasses dangling from her playful fingers, Vivi had never looked more beautiful.
It would be really-really difficult, Nami had realized then. To go on as if the two of them had never been a thing. But she would take the risk. If that meant that they still could remain close friends.
Lingering like the scent of coffee only Vivi could make, their words of apology were still hanging in the air. But with Vivi's humming to cheesy pop songs, their echoing was almost light-hearted, over empty ceramic and paper cups.
"There," Nami delicately draped the finished braid over Vivi's shoulder. "All done, dear princess!" She bent forward to flash Vivi a smile.
"Why thank you, sweet prince," Vivi jested, poking Nami in the shoulder. She really despised being called princess, even though she looked nothing but, jumping up, twirling in her dress and looking over her hair in her compact's mirror. And Nami could allow herself a just a little teasing, right?
"I'm glad you like it," Nami chuckled, then walked over to the coat rack to get her jacket and bag. Oh, right, there was still nail polish on her hand. Well, whatever. She would keep it; for good luck. "Ready to go, then?"
"Are you sure you want to come along?" Vivi soon followed, slipping into her ankle boots. She had worry in her eyes as she looked up at Nami; she still cared more for her than her own self, she who was about to face another possible outrage…
"Yeah, sure I do," Nami waved a hand, scoffing. "I have a delivery to make~" She emphasized with shaking the paper bag in her hand a bit.
"Ah, you're right," Vivi gave a nod, pulling on her cardigan. "Not for free, I'm guessing?"
"Oh, you're saying I'm not capable of genuine niceness? And to think I even brought you sweets!" Nami feigned a shocked expression.
"Nooo, I didn't say that!" Vivi objected just as theatrically. "I only implied you'd appreciate a tip for it."
"And not the tip of a hat, either!"
Nami clapped her beret onto her head and struck a cross-armed pose. Vivi started laughing so hard she almost sat down onto the floor, clasping her belly.
They were both still giggling while making their way downstairs in the elevator, and it made for a good base for joking around until they reached the plaza. Sanji was already there, of course, waiting in front of the central stairs. Once he saw them approach, he started waving at them so enthusiastically he might have flown away like a lovesick duck, and at these situations, Nami would have loved to hold up a sign saying 'We Don't Know This Guy'. Vivi waved back to him nervously. She didn't have to linger long - the café she was meeting Kohza at was just to the left. Squeezing her hand one more time, Nami let her go over there to drop the bomb on the guy. She patted her outer bag pocket for her phone, to make sure she didn't forget it. Even though Vivi had insisted that Kohza wouldn't get violent, Nami made her promise to text her in case of trouble…
"Nami-swaaan~!" Sanji was still flailing to get her attention. People were starting to stare; better go over to him before he embarrasses himself any more.
"Hi, Sanji-kun," Nami forced a smile onto her face as her goofy friend dramatically fell onto his knees before her. "Um, you don't need to-"
"Oh, Nami-san, my bright shining star, It's been too long!"
"Yesterday, you mean," she sighed.
Nami extended a hand towards him to help him get up. She had to drag him into standing, however, since the idiot made a move to slobber a smooch onto her hand. As ugly as the guy could spit curses, his compliments were just as flowery and exaggerated, and he made sure to trill her ears full with them generously, all of it just for her patting some dust off his suit pants.
"There. Shall we go, then?" She smiled sweetly at Sanji. Well, she should have kept some of that sugar, she realized; Sanji pirouetted one circle more around her than she would have liked. She could almost see the cartoon hearts in his eyes…
"Of course, Nnnami-swan, my sweet lady~! Wherever you want to!"
It was almost comical how hard he tried to act like the suave gentleman, smiling elegantly and extending his elbow towards her. Too bad the rest of his expression looked like that of a horny old lech. There was no way Nami would allow his arms, hands, or any of his limbs near her breasts, though, so she gave Sanji's shoulder a few pats, before she walked ahead towards the central escalator. Sure enough, Sanji followed obediently - and loudly, singing serenades about the touch of her hand. Well, as long as he was happy, she guessed.
Really, Sanji was such a cute guy. Mild-mannered, bright, funny, with an exquisite taste in everything concerning food. If only a pair of boobs or a perky butt wouldn't have rendered him into a bubbling puddle of rose water smelling goo. And as the years had proven, not even the teeny-tiny little detail of her being gay could save Nami from his constant and quite fervent flirting.
But his lovefool antics had their advantages, Nami could easily admit. Why be the cliché straight couple in movies, with the boyfriend groaning and moaning about shopping, when she had a volunteer to carry her bags around the mall for her all day, and was ridiculously happy while doing it?
Speaking of bags, though…
"Ah, that's right! I've brought you something." She turned back towards Sanji, rustling the paper bag she was carrying.
"F-for me? Really? Oh, Nami-swan is so beautiful when she's generous! How can I ever even think that I deserve your lov-"
"It's your jacket," Nami put in. She extended the bag towards Sanji, jiggling it again to urge him to finally take it. "You left it at the club yesterday."
"Oh," Sanji managed, much more meekly.
He grabbed the bag and peeked into it, seeming almost dazed. Was he disappointed? No, it was very unlike Sanji to be unhappy about anything she handed to him…
"Yesterday…" He mumbled, with the tiniest frown on his forehead. What was up with that? Had something-? "Yes, I thought I've lost it! Oh, Nami-san, I'm forever in your debt! If this goes on, I'll be your love-slave for the rest of my life~" It didn't take long for Sanji to slip back into his sappy cheering. And also, he was back at his usual spot whenever they hung out - kneeling on the floor.
"Yes-yes, I've saved you from a fashion disaster," Nami sighed again. Hey, she had been the one who picked that jacket out for him. She didn't dare to imagine Sanji's suit combined with that faded, barely blue denim jacket with red and black checked lining he had tucked under his elbow.
How could he stand wearing a suit every day, Nami would never know. Still several times better than his usual choice of casual clothing. Somehow, when not in suit-and tie, Sanji always managed to look as if he had dressed in the dark, despite the fact that Nami had tried again and again to help him choose casual outfits. The guy's fashion sense was just so much below zero that she had given up at one point. Why all the stress when she could just as easily fan the flames and have a good laugh each time he stepped out of the changing room? It was his style, she supposed.
"Nami-swaaan, were you worried about me~?"
"Yes-yes," she waved the gushing off. This guy's selective hearing was incredible. Kind of pathetic, too, to be honest, but still, Nami could never cease to be amazed by it. "Of course."
"Really?! Oh, I'm the luckiest man alive!"
Sure enough, Sanji did stand up at that. But he immediately proceeded to twirl around and hug himself, giggling with glee. People were starting to give the poor sod looks again...
Well, in truth, Vivi had been the one voicing worries. What a gentle soul, afraid that Sanji could have caught a cold without his jacket in the middle of the night. But Nami had reassured her; idiots didn't catch colds.
"Okay, Mr. Luckiest. Let's go," she chuckled and waved for Sanji to come along. He was clearly having fun. Why spoil it?
"Coming, my queen~!"
The shopping mall was all hers. Sweet-sweet payday had finally come at the end of the week, and Nami was very tempted to squander a great chunk of it. After doing most of the cartographing work for the university's new history atlas, she sure as hell deserved that drop-dead gorgeous dress she had been having her eyes on for weeks. It would be perfect for Luffy's birthday party in May. A short cocktail dress tailored from red silk, with a cleavage that was elegantly showy, but also had enough hold in case she needed to start running. It would be Luffy's party, after all; something was bound to go to hell. And Nami wasn't about to be caught tangled in a long skirt when it happened.
She was pretty sure Luffy wouldn't give a damn about her dress, and she was even more certain she didn't care. Nami dressed to impress, no matter the occasion. And right now, she just wanted to try that dress on, look herself over in the mirror and be happy about her reflection, for her own sake.
And while she was at it, she could look for something to wear for Usopp's surprise party. Good thing she remembered; she would need to find something plaid for that. Everyone attending would.
See, she and Usopp made a bet about who could rock the all-time biggest gross-lumberjack-lesbian-trash article of clothing better, so that was what they agreed wear to the arcade. Usopp was about the only one she could talk fashion about. Well, aside from Sanji, maybe, but in his case it was just damage prevention. And since Usopp had no idea that their gaming hang-out next week was actually going to be his surprise birthday party, Nami couldn't wait to see his face when the others showed up at the arcade, too, all-in-plaid. Luffy, Sanji and Chopper for sure, his best friends from high school, and then some colleagues, that Franky guy from the garage and Zoro from the club… Not Robin, she had to work. Too bad.
She would make all the photos. All of them. Then shove them onto ten different servers all over the planet and bribe everyone with them when the right time came.
"Oh, Sanji-kun! Did you get a plaid shirt for Usopp's party yet?" she turned back towards Sanji, handing him the newest shopping bag.
Poor thing looked very much in pain - probably more hungover than he had ever been. He even had a broken lip, and a few dark spots were peeking out from under his collar and sleeves here and there. Nami heard him groaning now and again while walking around in shops. Someone had a rough night alright. However, he instantly became chipper again when he noticed her talking to him.
"Yes, Nami-swan~" he exclaimed happily, wriggling the layers of bags he was carrying for her. Oh boy. Nami would get a nice clean shot of what kind of fashion disaster Sanji had found on his own.
And while at the subject of shots and embarrassment…
Nami giggled into her milkshake, remembering. The guy behind the counter flashed her a smile, probably thinking she laughed at some lame joke he told. He got so distracted, he even spilled some of Sanji's milkshake while staring at her breasts, and Sanji almost spoiled it all with going into blind, and utterly unjustified, rage... Well, no biggie. She caught Sanji's hand fast enough to melt him into slobber again, and the schmuck still gave them a discount. All was good.
"Hey, Sanji-kun," she was still smiling when they sat down at a free table by the mall's food court.
"Yes, my angel~?"
"Where did you disappear to yesterday?" Nami swirled her drink with her straw, ever so slowly. She gave Sanji a look of wonder and slight sadness to try and mess with him a little, but in truth, she was barely keeping her laughter down. "You said you'd go to the bathroom, but you never came back to our table."
"The, um… The bathroom, Nami-san…?" Sanji stared back at her confused, then cleared his throat. He looked positively uncomfortable. But was it the discomfort of knowledge, or that of ignorance…?
"Oh, you know," Nami chuckled. "Zombie Night? Shakky-san and Keimi-chan? Ring a bell?" She dearly hoped not the whole night had eluded him.
"Yes, yes of course! How could I forget?!"
Sanji replied so hastily that his straw got caught in his lower lip as he yanked his head up, then it dropped onto the table, spilling some shake onto his tie. He fumbled for a handkerchief, mumbling incoherently. He looked like he wanted to boil over with embarrassment, face red and hands twitchy. Some weird sense of chivalry prevented him from cursing like a grog-packed sailor in front of her, and that just made his struggle more amusing.
"It's just that, um, after…" When he finally found his kerchief, he started rubbing it against his tie so roughly it could have torn. "After a while, things just got blurry. Last night. Uh..." When he was done crumpling his upper clothing, his hand moved automatically to wipe his face in his nervousness. That resulted in him successfully smearing some sticky white shake onto his face; his face he was trying so hard to get to look straight. Oh, this was getting good...
"After the beers arrived, you mean," Nami calmly sipped some of her milkshake.
"Ah, yes, probably, ahhaha," Sanji replied with a strained laugh. "Nobody can stand a chance against you when it comes to drinking, my queen~"
"So you don't remember anything?" Nami pressed on, and leaned in closer. Her cleavage on top of the table made Sanji stir in his seat, and gripped down on his forgotten handkerchief hard. Just as planned. "Anything at all?"
"I… I don't know. I had some weird dreams last night, a-and I can't decide what's what anymore," Sanji averted his gaze, like a little boy that had just broken the family china vase to splinters. "I'm so sorry..."
Aww, he was taking this way too seriously. Nami almost thought better of the whole teasing thing, seeing that guilty little face of his.
Nah.
"Oh, that's too bad, Sanji-kun, you've really missed out," she tilted her head, smiling honey-sweet.
Sanji blinked awkwardly at that, then the corners of his mouth twitched upward a little, before his tiny smile immediately withered, along with the colour in his cheeks. His face was a picture of confusion, dread and just a tiny bit of hope. Perfect.
"Really? W-why, what…?"
"I didn't realize you had a side like that to you. Like, wow," Nami lifted her palms and spread them along the table surface in a gesture of amazement. "It was amazing."
"N-Nami-san..." he could barely croak. The table shook under his fists, so tense he might have exploded.
"Oh, wait," Nami feigned surprise, then reached for Sanji's hand with a smile… Then she tugged the handkerchief from his clammy grip. "You have a little something, right here..." The dried-up milkshake stain came off rather easily, with how sweaty the kerchief was. She had to stand up and lean over the table to reach Sanji's face, though, and the degree of which his eyes bulged out to stare at her breasts was like a countdown.
Three. Two. One.
Nami expected the nosebleed, of course; she was aiming for it. She somewhere hoped it would serve to calm him down. However, she could not foresee the fountain of blood that started pouring out of Sanji's nose, all over the table, their trays and the milkshake cups… Well, she won't be drinking that anymore. Thankfully, the blood stayed off her. She had already become an expert how to dodge spontaneous bloodflow, from noses and various other places. She knew her friends well.
"Sanji-kun, are you okay?!"
She was the scared one now, standing by Sanji's right side and squishing the handkerchief against his nose to stop the bleeding. She wanted to mess with him, sure, but not bleed him to death!
"Ahahahaha..." some creepy laughter left Sanji's mouth as his head fell back. Yeah, he would be fine.
"You like living dangerously, don't you?" Nami sighed exasperatedly. She held the back of Sanji's head up until he came to his senses again, fumbling to hold the handkerchief and apply pressure himself. "You really should get this checked..."
"Ohg, Dabi-sab, you're do dweet do wowwy..." he mumbled, then coughed while trying to breathe through his nose. Nami had to chuckle. What an idiot.
When Sanji was well enough to start cleaning up his face, Nami went to fetch a soda cup full of water and some paper towels, and to pacify bystanders and security people that the situation was under control. Really, she was such an awesome friend. She deserved a gold plaquette or something to commemorate this day.
Sanji managed to make himself look like he had been punched in the nose with how messily he tried to rub the blood off his face. Setting the First Aid Kit For Perverted Idiots, aka the cup of water and towels, down, Nami snorted, and squatted down next to Sanji to help wipe his face with a damp paper towel. Sometimes, when contemplating why she exposed herself to this farce, Nami thought about how Sanji felt like the little brother to her she had never had. A clumsy, perverted little brother who wanted to bury his face in her boobs, but oh well. No sibling was perfect.
"Say, Sanji-kun," Nami glanced over at him, moving over to wipe the table. "Just now, you thought we did something indecent yesterday, didn't you? You and me."
From how Sanji wheezed for air, Nami expected another avalanche of hemoglobin. He really should consider dating a nurse…
"No! No, of course not! No way! Heavens no, Nami-san!" Sanji all but shrieked, and dropped every wet and bloody glob of paper to seize both her hands, squeezing hard. "I swear to you, on my honor as a gentleman, I would never…!"
"Err... You're hands are still bloody..."
"Holy ssshoot, I'm so sorry!" He panicked again, grabbing a fistful from the stack of paper towels to wipe her fingers. Or shred, more like. Thankfully, his blood stayed in his nose this time.
"Hey-hey, careful, leave some skin on, okay?"
Nami laughed and pried her hands away from Sanji's fervently rubbing ones. He was staring at their hands apologetically, letting her get rid of all the red on his fingers, then she squeezed a clean towel into them, ordering him to get the drops of blood off his pants. She wanted to pat his head. Sanji looked like a guilty little puppy, papping the lumps of paper against his clothes.
"You know..." she spoke up again, dumping another stained paper ball onto the pile of others on their stacked trays. "I actually don't know much about what you did yesterday, either. I only saw you dancing. Later, when I went looking for Keimi-chan." She admitted. Maybe that was enough teasing for one day...
"What? I was dancing?" Sanji looked at her, his hand halfway down the cup of water.
"Oh, absolutely!" Nami nodded, wiped her hands clean, and patted Sanji on the shoulder. "You were really popular, too- Oh yeah!" she exclaimed and clapped her hands together. "Wait a sec."
Nami then stepped back to her chair where she had left her bag. She rummaged around in all the pockets where she knew exactly she wouldn't find her phone, purely for suspense's sake. The small tap-tapping of Sanji's shoes confirmed that she piqued his curiosity.
Yes-yes, she had decided to let the teasing slide - and she would, she promised! Just one more little thing...
"I made pictures!" Nami announced with a smile, shaking her phone in her hand. "It should be riiight… Here!" She started tapping in its screen as she walked back to stand next to Sanji, then leaned down to let him see. She didn't dare give the phone to him. She wasn't planning on replacing it just yet, thank you very much.
Sanji bent forward to get a closer look. He craned his neck, even tilted the bottom of the phone up with his fingers to have a better view, but still seemed utterly confused.
"Nami-san," he looked at her with a wry little smile, "who are these um… people?"
"What do you mean? You don't know them, Sanji-kun?"
"No," Sanji declared firmly. He shook his head so fervently that it might have screwed off his neck like a light bulb. "No way."
"I don't know… Are you sure? I mean, you were with them for hours, so I thought they were, you know. Your friends," Nami shrugged, blinking innocently. "Look, you seem really close on this one," she insisted, swiping to the next image.
"Ah, wait, I think you've scrolled past it," Sanji cut in, trying to swipe backwards on the screen, but when he seemed to recognize the picture Nami had shown him first, he flipped back. "I… Nami-san, are you sure I'm in this one?" He frowned.
"Hmm? But you're right there," Nami pointed towards the middle of the photo. "Well, it's kinda blurry… Wait, I think I have a- Yes, this one," she flipped to a photo similar to the last one, but perhaps a bit more in-focus.
Well, it was pretty hard to make good pictures of a dancing crowd in general, and these okama had sure known how to crank it up. Nami had barely been able to score some decent shots of them, even though there had been a whole throng of them, practically taking over the dancefloor; because when they hadn't been dancing arm-in-arm, they were hugging and jumping around. But really, Sanji was still sticking out like a sore thumb in the photo. He was the only one wearing pants…
"No. No, that can't be me, they're… He's… He's wearing lipstick! See? I would never wear lipstick," Sanji tried to explain, but his eyes full of shock and his words full of strained laughter weren't exactly convincing.
"Awww, but you were wearing your new blue pants!" Nami complained with a faked pout. "The one we bought together, with the rhinestones! Remember? That's definitely it, there!" she insisted. It would have been quite surprising if anyone else had worn a pair of pants as ridiculous as that one, after all. To prove her point, she began showing Sanji the rest of the pictures she had taken. All of them. "Look, there you are again. Aww, kissing your friend on the cheek, so cute. Oh, you like that shirt, don't you? I think that guy behind you does, too… Oh, who's that girl? Is that glitter in her hair or is it... your nails?"
"I thought… You painted my nails, Nami-san…?" Sanji barely managed to mumble.
His hands formed strained fists on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his suit pants so hard he might have put holes in it. Exactly why Nami hadn't handed him her phone…
"No, not me," she shook her head. Oh please, she didn't do glitter. And aside from her, there had been nobody at their table who could have done it. Shakky-san wasn't the type to paint nails to begin with, and Keimi-chan had been too busy vomiting all over the ladies' room floor to be painting anyone's nails pretty and pink. "I'm guessing it was one of your new frie-"
"Aaaaaaaaaaah!"
Nami almost plopped down onto the floor from the zest with which Sanji jumped up from his chair, screaming and tearing his hair. The paper cup tipped over from his sudden rise, and the leftover water spilled out over the table, dribbling down onto the floor. Oh great.
"Sanji-kun!" Nami got to her feet, placing a hand onto Sanji's arm. "Sanji-kun, calm down! What's wrong?!"
"Aaaaah, what have I done? What have I done?!" He started hitting his head with his fists.
"Okay, that's enough! Sanji-kun, get yourself together!" Nami shook him to make him stop, and when that didn't help, she tried to grab a hold of his wrists instead. "We're going to be thrown out of here! Come on!"
"Aaaaahhh, nooo, this is the woooorst!"
Sanji just kept howling and wailing, and Nami was pretty sure the whole plaza was looking at them. Oh, for crying out loud… It was just ridiculous. She hadn't signed up to hang out with a five-year-old, for God's sake! She really wished she didn't have to hit him over the head with her best punch to make him stop…
In any case, it worked like a charm. Sanji slumped back down into his seat, and his screaming was replaced by his quiet, shaky sobbing.
"Nami-san..." he whimpered. "Forgive me, Nami-san… I'm a disgrace…!"
"No, you're not. Now stop crying like a baby," Nami pulled her chair up next to his, and stuffed a paper towel into his hand. "You just had a lot to drink, that's all."
"But I… I…!" Sanji just kept bawling, squeezing the tissue hard against his eyes, before he blew his nose loudly. "Do you… Do you think I was drugged…?"
"I don't think so. You'd feel worse off, believe me."
"B-but then why would I…?" Sanji sniffled.
"Oh, come now," Nami sighed, patting his back. "So you wore make-up and danced with some guys and um… sort-of guys at a club. So what? You didn't hurt anybody," she offered, "or, well, I hope," she ended up adding, glancing at Sanji's bruised lip.
"Ughhh…!" he rubbed the moist paper sheet against his eyes again. Maybe he would calm down now...
"Sanji-kun… You know that there's nothing wrong with being-"
"No!" Sanji wheezed, and the paper towel tore to pieces in his trembling, tense hands. "No no no! I'm not gay! I'm not! No fucking way!"
His outraged shout was followed by tense silence. Everyone sitting at the food court was looking at them, and the happy mall music sounded even more forced than usual. Nami berated herself. How could she think Sanji would ever relax?
"Yes, I know that," she grumbled, at the end of her patience. That was not what she was going to say, but she thought it better to just drop the subject. Sanji obviously wasn't ready for that kind of talk. And frankly, why should it be her to have to get him out of the closet? "And now everybody else knows, too, so just take it easy, okay? Here, there's one more," she offered him the last paper tissue that wasn't hit by the water on the table.
"I'm… I'm sorry..." he muttered as he wiped his nose with it. "Nami-san, I-I didn't mean to...I mean, you-"
"No, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it like that," she waved off his concerns. Nami had been over her denial phase long ago, way back in high school; she knew the frustration of it very well. So he did remember if he really wanted to, didn't he? Sanji could be such a dork sometimes…
"Oh, Nami-san, what do I do..." Sanji went back to crying, his face against the tabletop.
"Come on," Nami stood and offered Sanji a hand. "We should go. I know just the thing you need."
"N-Nami-san, y-you don't mean…!"
From the red hue of his face, Nami had a good guess what was going on in that weird-wired mind of his. She suddenly felt like eating a whole box of chocolate. After this? It was the least…
"Careful, you'll bleed your brain out of your nose," she scolded, then had enough of stalling and simply yanked Sanji up into standing.
"Y-yes, Nami-swan!" he produced a shaky smile. What do you know. His pervert-aura was getting him back onto his feet. "Lead the way, my queen!"
And just like that, he was back to being an irritating puppy dog. Well, couldn't be helped. Nami chuckled, gathered up the mess off the table, grabbed her bag and headed out of the food court between the tables. Plastic bags were rustling in her wake as Sanji followed. And Nami couldn't help but smile.
A small bell chimed as Nami pushed the door open, and the smell of old paper and tobacco welcomed her inside the small liquor store of the shopping mall. Sanji was less enthusiastic about entering. He pushed the door closed behind himself without a word, though, however hesitantly. Nami made her way to the shelves packed with brandy right away, and Sanji followed, a step or so behind her.
"Nami-san… I'm not sure this is such a good idea..."
"Of course it's a good idea," Nami objected, examining the label of the bottle he had just lifted from the shelf. "Hair of the dog, isn't that right? Besides, I've run out. And you owe me."
"Y-yes, my generous, loving angel," he sighed, defeated.
Nami was humming a tune as she waited in line at the cash desk. Marry him or marry me… She shifted the bottle into her other arm and fished her phone out. Already seven. No new messages.
She was thinking about Vivi, chuckling into an ornate teacup, sitting in opposite of her dashing young prince from Egypt… She scoffed and reached for one of the stack of toffee boxes piled up near the counter. Maybe she could convince Sanji to make her ice cream, too.
Just as Nami was about to turn to him to ask him of the matter, Sanji opened her mouth before she did. He opened it wide, in a horrified shriek. He raised his arm to point a stern finger at the man next in line to pay - a tall, stocky guy, with his shopping basket filled with bottles of cheap booze, and green hair peeking out from under his baseball cap…
There was no mistaking it.
"Hey, Zo-!"
"YOU!" Sanji began yelling again. "You fucking asshole!"
"What the hell?" Zoro called out as he turned, and when he was face-to-face with Sanji, his glare turned into a frowning grimace of shock. "You again?!" His cold stare wandered from Sanji onto Nami then, where it molded into something questioning, one eyebrow raised. Nami could only shrug in response, quite surprised herself. When had these two met…?
"You dare show your face, you slimy green pile of apeshit?!"
"Look who's talking, you curly freak!" Zoro picked up Sanji's volume as quick as that.
"I've kicked your ass once before, and I can do it again!" Sanji barked and closed his accusing finger with the rest into his fist, right before he held up both knuckles and darted out his middle fingers instead.
"The hell you have!" Zoro slammed his basket down onto the counter in front of a rather frightened shop owner - a big fellow like him could barely hide behind the counter, holding onto the white bear-eared hat on his head and muttering apologies. "I beat you to a pulp! Or were you so piss-drunk that you forgot, you glittery punk?"
"What did you just call me?!"
Oh boy. Nami realized just what she had not been missing from this day. And the winner of that special place was a spontaneous brawl in the middle of the liquor store between two boneheads she had the misfortune of knowing. How had they not found each other before? Aside from the obvious reason of Zoro moving to town much later than Sanji - but that was boring. An idiocy to this degree should have had some sort of magnetic force, Nami was convinced, and very disappointed…
"Well, I won't be getting any ice cream today..." she sighed wistfully
Putting the brandy bottle down onto the counter, Nami leaned her back against it, playing along with the role of the bored spectator. While she was at it, she popped the toffee box open and offered the shivering shopkeep behind her some.
This would take a while.