The dawning sun rose over the picturesque ocean's horizon, all soft ambers and glowing purples. A small caravel with a sheep figurehead lazily bobbed up and down on the small waves, reminiscent of a toy duck in a bathtub.

Inside the ship, a certain desert princess had just collapsed into a chair by the kitchen table. Her usually high maintenance hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, a few sweaty strands falling down over her forehead.

An untouched and ignored steaming cup of cocoa was laid out in front of her, left there by an exhausted Sanji on his way to bed. Too physically and emotionally tired to make any real effort in doting over the newest lady addition to the close knit group.

Not that Vivi blamed him, not at all. Everyone was tired and the mood aboard the Going Merry was tense. Tenser than she ever knew it could be. Tenser than any of Mr. Bushido's memories had ever shown.

And why wouldn't it be? Nami had witnessed Mr. Bushido mowing down Luffy in what looked like cold blood. Out of context, that looked really bad.

Hell, even with context it wasn't exactly great. She wasn't even sure how she would phrase it. Oh, they were just fighting because Luffy figured out that Mr. Bushido has been lying to him since basically the word go. No, it would never work.

Besides, they didn't know her. Oh, they thought they did, the princess desperately in need of aid to save her ravaged country. But they didn't know the real her, the one who they would offer a position in their coveted crew to.

And that hurt.

So, she had been forced to watch as Luffy was carted off to their makeshift doctor's office (a secluded corner where the stored cooking supplies) while the one with the most medical knowledge (Nami) fussed over the raven-haired teen. She had been forced to watch as mistrust began to blossom between the usually ironclad crew. Without Luffy's guiding light, the others began to grow cold and distant.

For one heart stopping moment, she had been afraid Sanji would refuse when Mr. Bushido ordered for them to cast off. Terrified that Sanji would point blank insinuate that Mr. Bushido had tried to kill Luffy and a fight would break out. Then the moment passed and Sanji lit his cigarette with a shrug before moving on. Vivi tried to convince herself that it had been a trick of the light, a figment of her imagination. Tried.

The kitchen door creaked open, shaking her out of her dark musings. Roronoa Zoro slinked in, looking like a great weight was pressing down on him. Ignoring her, he moved to a cupboard near the fridge in search of alcohol. Vivi took those few seconds to observe her old and dear friend. Or was it new and dear friend?

He mostly looked the same as he should have, considering the timeframe, but there was a few subtle differences. Mostly, he looked like his Alabasta self should: cropped green hair and tightly packed, slightly tanned muscles that rippled when he moved. But said hair was starting to grow a bit longer down the sides and the muscles were more bulky than they should have been. Plus, the eyepatch. You couldn't forget the eyepatch.

All in all, he was well on the way to looking like post separation self.

God, the Separation. Separation with a capital s.

That hurt to think about. The mere idea of the Straw Hat Pirates losing a fight, especially after seeing their storm of Enies Lobby for Nico Robin (another kettle of fish altogether), was foreign to here. And yes, she didn't know them really so that was a strange thought in of itself. But, at the same time, she knew them better than they did themselves. Knew them from Mr. Bushido's memories.

She knew the future and what a powerful weapon that was, one no man or woman should naturally possess. Which led to the question of how exactly Mr. Bushido had came into the possession of them. Her blue eyes followed the tired man as he collapsed into a chair opposite her, his eyes haggard. "You must be brimming with questions." His voice was dour. "Ask."

A thousand and one thoughts and questions whirled through her mind but her mouth failed her. "How?"

"We died." His voice was blunt but held a trace of sympathy, he knew the news would rock her world.

It felt like the kitchen was spinning around her and she noticed her hands had gone pale. "How?" Her voice was choked.

"The traditional way mostly. Guns and bullets." The swordsman paused and grimaced. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

The next words stuck in her throat for a few seconds. "Where? When?"

"It was an island close to Raftel. We'd finally cross-referenced all four Road Poneglyphs, I'll explain later, and discovered Raftel's location. Technically, we could have avoided the entire fiasco. Our stocks would've lasted the trip. But Luffy wouldn't be deterred. He said he didn't want to be King if he had to skulk around like a thief in the night to get it. So, we fought."

"W-was." Her voice caught in her throat and she coughed, it was harsh grating sound in the otherwise silent kitchen. "Was it painless? For them?"

His smile was ugly, a twisted self-deprecating thing that made her shiver, as he swallowed some more whiskey. "I wish I knew. I was too busy trying to keep my insides inside, the only death I saw was Luffy's."

Luffy. Dead. The wrongness of those two words being together in the same sentence made her feel physically ill. "Was it quick.? Was it painless?" She wasn't sure why she needed to know, why she needed the closure. The only version of Monkey D. Luffy that she had physically

met was sleeping only a few rooms away, snoring his head off. But she did need the closure, desperately so. The sort of need she felt about having to save her country. One's that she wouldn't be able sleep well at night if they weren't fulfilled.

Mr. Bushido's eyes became distant and took on a haunted look, as if he was recalling a memory buried deep within the recesses of his mind. "Painful? Hard to tell, wasn't a lot left to be painful over." A bitter laugh. "Quick? Yeah, it was quick. I can attest to that much at least."

They sat in silence as Vivi absorbed the information. Wasn't a lot left? How exactly did Luffy die? Her mental musings were broken when Mr. Bushido leaned forward and focused his visible eye on her. "Anyway, how far did you get in my memories? From my experience, you just get flashes of moments. Must've been confusing."

"Yes, it's as you describe, flashes of events. But I think I got the jist of your adventures. You saved my home, and thank you so much for that, and continued on your way. You picked up Ms. All Sunday, sorry, Nico Robin as you left. From their you visited an island in the sky. You picked up a perverted shipwright and fought the world for Nico Robin. You saved a skeleton from damnation and were separated at an island filled with bubbles. You met a girl with the power to manipulate emotions (negative emotions) and...and you learned about Ace. How he died. How Luffy tried to save him without the rest of you and failed."

"Damn," Mr. Bushido said lightly, but his eye was squeezed shut, "you did get the jist of it. Was that the last thing you seen?"

"No, you were at some island under the ocean reunited with the crew after two years. But you took the sword back before I got any further." Vivi hesitated. "Mr. Bushido? Why does your sword tell the future, or, what I assume is the future? Did you somehow travel back in time or did you wake up one day with the sword suddenly giving you visions?

The green-haired man shrugged in the universal gesture of "Hell if I know" and gulped down some more whiskey. "Time travel."

"So, you did travel back in time!"

"Well, yeah."

Viv gaped at him. Did he not realize how huge that was? "You did the impossible."

"Not that impossible it seems."

Vivi shook her head, Mr. Bushido didn't seem to care how miraculous this was. "Anyway." She took a calming breath. "The sword?

The swordsman shrugged again. "I have a theory."

It took all of Vivi's patience not to snap. "Do tell?"

"The things I had on me when I was forced back came back with me."

Vivi wrinkled her forehead. "Your clothes?"

Mr. Bushido shrugged again, an action Vivi felt she would continue to see throughout this conversation. "Haven't been sewn yet I'd imagine."

"Then...just your sword?" She ignored the fact that he usually carried three swords, if she got bogged down in the details it would take hours for the conversation to finish.

Mr. Bushido tilted his head back and aimed the whiskey bottle at his open mouth, nothing came out. He frowned and tapped the bottle, still nothing. The man sighed and pinched his nose, setting the bottle down on the table with a thump. "No."

VIvi let out a very undignified groan. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Bushido drummed his fingers, his eye still on the empty bottle. "The cross pendant."

Vivi snatched the bottle in a ft of anger and rose, throwing it in the bin within a few strides. "What pendant?"

"Dracule Mihawk's pendant."

Her world spinning, Vivii sat back down. Dracule Mihawk. An infamous name by all accounts. A pirate who followed the Navy and its orders. A renowned swordsman. A stark figure with yellow eyes in ornate clothing, a black hat and black coat to match his bloodsoaked black blade. An enigma, a mystery to the general public. Dracule Mihawk. "H-how? W-what?"

Mr. Bushido's voice was dry when he answered. "What part are you unclear about?"

Vivi slammed her hand down on the wooden table, the sharp sound cutting through the silence kitchen. "Stop being so casual about this! Explain about the pendant. Now." She knew she was being bossy but she couldn't find it in herself to care very much.

The green-haired man's hand twitched towards the cupboards as if trying to summon another bottle of alcohol through pure power of will. "It was a gift given to me by him in the future."

Vivi's cheeks reddened. "Oh," she said softly.

"Shitty gift too." Mr. Bushido added. "Hardly made up for him skewering me on a sword."

Vivi, who had finally taken a sip of her forgotten cocoa, did a spit take. "What?" She yelled.

The swordsman wiped away the chocolatey liquid, a frown on his face. "You really like that word," he observed.

"Don't be so flippant about this," she said, glaring daggers at her friend, "it's almost like you're enjoying this!"

….

Mr. Bushido's lips twitched.

She once again jumped to her feet, her teeth bared, "You are! You are, aren't you?"

Mr. Bushido stood up, stretching his shoulders, and smiled. The simple action seemed to take years off his face. He unsheathed Wado Ichimonji and laid the glittering sword onto the table. Despite her anger, Vivi was transfixed. "You keep it for the night," Mr. Bushido said as he walked away, "view whatever memories you want."

"Wait," she called out, her voice halting him at the door, "What if you need it?" Her voice trailed off at the end as she mentally chastised herself, he was a New World level pirate. What possible opponent out here could force him into using his infamous sword style?

Mr. Bushido only smiled, and then the doorway was empty. Vivi was left as she started: all alone and with a cold cup of cocoa.

Well, not quite. The desert princess eyed the sword with open trepidation. Wado Ichimonji's cold steel seemed to mock her, calling forth every single doubt and fear in her mind with its deadly sharpness.

With a deep breath and trembling hands, she picked it up.

And was whisked away into Roronoa Zoro's memories.


Nami watched the steady rise and fall of her captain's bandaged chest and, not for the first time that night (or was it morning by now?), cursing Roronoa Zoro. Cursing everything he stood for: his hair, his constant naps, his sense of direction or lack thereof, his sword style, his voice, his mannerisms, his dreams.

She cursed them all.

She kept replaying that moment over and over again. Wondering if she could have done anything different. If she could said something differently, moved faster or arrived just that bit earlier. But she hadn't. And she knew that moment would be burned in her mind forever. Whatever the outcome, whether Luffy lived or died. It would be there.

She had been elated, she remembered, as she walked down the street with a sack of money hefted over her shoulder. She had pretended to fall asleep, not trusting the overly-friendly villagers one bit, and had beaten them up when the had came for her valuables. She had noticed Zoro and Luffy were missing and had set out to find them.

It hadn't been difficult, just had to follow the trail of destruction.

Nami had turned the corner and found them fighting. No, fighting did not cover it. Fighting conjured images of playful spars and bonks on the head when she normally associated the word with the duo. No, it hadn't been fighting. There had been no easy hearted banter or laughter.

There had been rage and fire in Luffy's eyes and a sort of deadly calm on Zoro's face. Luffy's skin had been a glowy pink and steam had rushed out from every pore of skin. Zoro's swords had seemed to hum with power and, though she was sure if was a trick of the light, had seemed to be encased in obsidian. They had dashed towards each other at inhuman speeds, inhuman even for them.

They had met in the middle.

And there had been blood. Oh, so much blood. Zoro had sheathed his stained blades as what had seemed like a geyser of sanguine fluid erupted out of the falling Luffy.

Logically, she knew she was exaggerating the amount of blood loss. Nami knew that. But every time she looked back on the memory, more blood seemed to accompany the visage. From a brief spurt of sanguine in the air to an erupting fountain that stained everything in sight, blinding her eyes and making her taste the hot stickiness of it in the back of her throat.

Shaking her head to rid her of her morbid thoughts, Nami removed the wet cloth from Luffy's forehead. Muttering soothing nonsense words, she applied a fresh wet cloth. Clucking her tongue, her critical eye raked over the injured teen.

It infuriated her to end. Her uselessness, that was. She wasn't a doctor or a surgeon, none of the crew were. She had no real clue if anything she was doing was of any use. Whether it was a hindrance or a help to his recovery.

If Monkey D. Luffy died on her watch...well, she would never be able to forgive herself. Fact. Not for the first time, but for the most serious one, she lamented the fact that they did not pick up a doctor back in East Blue.

Nami rubbed her bare arms, trying to will away the seemingly permanent goosebumps there. It had been a shock to her system, all of their systems, to see Luffy like this. To see larger-than-life Luffy unresponsive in his cot, to hear their invincible captain whimper as they applied bandages.

Nami wasn't sure when she had started to unconsciously consider Luffy as more than mortal. When she started seeing him as a force of the universe, undying and unmovable. Had it been when he had stood over the remains of her childhood prison, Arlong Park, and screamed out at her. No, it had been before even that.

With a jolt, she placed the exact moment: Syrup Village. On the beach with Usopp and having Captain Kuro stare down at her like she was his next meal and she could do nothing to prevent it. Seeing the familiar red of Luffy's vest fill her vision as her captain had stood in front of her and protected her. Yes, that had been the moment Luffy had become more than just Luffy to her.

But he wasn't. He was just Luffy. And he had been wounded horribly by his First Mate, Roronoa Zoro. She had screamed why at the swordsman and he had just mumbled "Captain's orders" and thrown Luffy and the blue-haired Baroque Works agent(and that was a whole other can of worms entirely) over his shoulder.

It was the not knowing that was truly driving her crazy. The feeling of ignorance that was making her want to tear her hair out with an oath. She wanted more than anything for Luffy to wake up and explain the situation. Explain it because Zoro refused to!

She wanted him to wave it off with a laugh so the crew could come together again. Wanted him to wave away the danger and tenseness abroad the Going Merry. Wanted him to laugh at the mere idea that Zoro could've tried to kill him in cold blood.

Nami wanted desperately to be able to trust Roronoa Zoro again.

And if Luffy couldn't provide that, then well...they would deal with it. Between Luffy, Sanji and the rest of them she was sure they could take Zoro.

And if Luffy died before being able to clear up the situation.

Well then.

She would curse Roronoa Zoro and everything he stood for.