Mass x Acceleration

By Dixxy Mouri

Chapter Fifteen: When I Think About You

April came to a close, and May brought with it the start of even warmer weather and blossoms all over the island. From their balcony, Sanji and Nami could see the apple blossoms in the orchards and both were looking forward to visiting that part of the island when the fruit was in season, and they re-routed their morning jog through the orchards to better see them one morning. Nami missed being able to eat her tangerines straight off the tree and although these would be no proper substitute, she found herself longing for the fall.

But in the meantime, Gala had cleared them for "light physical training".

"Light physical training" included their morning jogs and other simple exercises, like stomach crunches and weight training (but only if the weights were under 20 lbs for Nami, 40 lbs for Sanji), and running through some of the lower-intensity moves in Red Leg Karate (of which no contact was allowed – not even with a punching bag).

Sanji had given Nami the opportunity to learn some of the basics, and at first Nami didn't understand why. "Well, if we ever want to use our Devil Fruits to defend the rest of the crew, you probably want to know how to fight in your tiger forms," Sanji had pointed out. "The phasing fruit is going to be amazing defensively, but you're used to fighting with a weapon, not your body. You need to know how to use your body as a weapon – there's no reason you couldn't use your ClimaTact with your Devil Fruit, but there will be advantages to knowing what to do without it."

Nami had agreed with his logic, and the two found a fairly isolated clearing not too far from their usual running path, and a few dents and slices in the trees suggested that Ria and Braeburn had utilized the spot at some point in the past. They agreed to train for an hour or two on the weekends (if Sanji's work schedule permitted it).

This was their second day of training.

"Follow my lead, Nami-san," said Sanji. Nami nodded and tried to spread her feet as far as Sanji had, but soon heard a clucking tongue noise. "Not that far. You're shorter than me – you need to adjust for your own build. Look at my stance for a second." Nami moved out of the stance and crossed her arms to watch.

"Don't you usually start from a casual standing position?" asked Nami.

"Not for this stuff – what you've thinking of is more advanced and probably not on Gala's 'okay' list yet," said Sanji. "I'm not in the shape I was back before – I can't take the abuse I used to take without getting REALLY badly hurt. If Gala realized I was teaching you moves like Party Table he'd be pretty angry and I don't think we want to piss off the guy trying to make us better."

"Okay, okay, so how do I adjust for my height?"

"Shoulders – see where my feet are compared to my shoulders?" said Sanji. He drew a line in the air from his right shoulder to his right foot, and Nami saw that they lined up. She nodded, and Sanji gave her a brief explanation. "My shoulders are wider than yours, so my stance is going to be a little bigger. But they should still be pointed the same way mine are. Now you try."

Nami focused on matching her feet to her shoulders, and Sanji nodded in approval. "Very good. Your left foot needs to be a little bit turned in though – there you go." Sanji moved beside her and slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. Nami frowned, not seeing any pockets on her pants. "Unless you want to fight EXACTLY like me you don't need to worry about your hands. If you want to learn about upper body defense and offense you'll want them out, but that's up to you."

"Okay."

"All right, now turn your body so you're facing the direction your feet are pointed in. That means your right leg is your lead leg and the one you'll be kicking with. The left leg is your support leg, and you need to have a good sense of balance there – it's the center of your strength, but also a weak point – especially the back of the knee."

"Because your leg will bend and you'll be thrown off balance," said Nami.

"Right – I was at a point where I didn't need to worry about that, but for right now both of us do." Sanji closed his eyes and took a deep, concentrated breath. "Now, we're going to lift our lead leg, bend our knees, and bring our thighs as close to our chest as we can. Keep the sole of your foot facing out with your heel sticking out – that's what you'd want to strike with. And we're going to hold that position for ten seconds."

"What? Wouldn't the other guys hit us before ten seconds was up?" asked Nami.

"This is a balance exercise, not an actual kick," said Sanji. "Balance is extremely important."

Nami pouted, but followed along as Sanji started the move. She lasted about two seconds before he left knee buckled and she started to wobble in place, flailing her arms out to try and keep from falling. She started to fall backwards, but Sanji was behind her, one arm behind her shoulders and the other over her waist. "Sorry!"

Sanji shook his head and smiled, a genuine grin with a hint of encouragement on his lips. It all had a sort of strange aura to it, likely because of how the sunlight was entering the clearing. His face was covered in shadows, but the sincerity and kindness was still shining through. "It's okay – everyone loses their balance the first few times."

Nami stuck her tongue out at him. "Easy for you to say."

Sanji chuckled as he got her back to her feet. "Maybe so, but you need to have good balance for almost any martial art, not just mine – I'm sure Luffy or Chopper or hell, even Robin could tell you that. You probably have it, or at least you had it at some point, but you were probably using your staff or one of the ClimaTacts as a counterweight, so it changed up your center of gravity. But that's okay, we'll work on it."

Two hours later, the pair called it quits. "I suck at this," Nami said.

"Nah, you made good progress – remember, I had years and years of practice. Getting as good as I was would take you years and years of practice, too," said Sanji. He walked over to where they kept a bag of water canteens and snacks and started to rummage through it. "And that's fine – this is just a starting point for you as you figure out what will work best for you. You might find that you'd better inclined to use your upper body, but I can't help you there."

"Yeah, you can't," said Nami. "Can you toss me one of the canteens?"

Sanji gave tossed one of the canteens to her and started to peel off his shirt, which had collected a fair amount of sweat. Nami was opening the canteens, but couldn't take her eyes off his back. About a week ago he'd regained the last of his lost weight and more of and more of his old muscle definition was starting to come through. In particular, the groves and lines on his back were rippling with his movements as he got the shirt over his head.

Huh.

"Want a snack, too?" Sanji asked, bending down to go through the back again.

"Um, no thanks," said Nami, closing her eyes and throwing back a long drink of water. It was a little warm from sitting in the bag, but still refreshing. After swallowing, gasping, and wiping the corners of her mouth she watched Sanji pull out a clean shirt and pull it on. She frowned a little before taking another sip of water.

"Did you pack a dry shirt or anything?" Sanji asked.

"No, I didn't think of it – I'm going to shower when we get back anyways," said Nami. She crossed her arms. "Besides, my bra is probably pretty soaked, too, and I'd need to change that as well – and you're not getting yourself a free show, Sanji-kun." Sanji grinned, closing up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"All right, fair enough. I can keep my back turned, though – just remember that."

"Ha," said Nami, and the two started the walk back to their apartment, walking mostly in silence. But all during the walk, Nami kept going over how their practice had played out. The stances and the kicks and the warm ups were one thing, but the smile on Sanji's face after he caught her and the way the light caught his hair, or the way his muscles moved when he was changing his shirt . . .

What is WRONG with me!?

Long, hot showers had become Nami's "substitute" for baths, since bathing in too much water made her feel tired and weak. Showers, though still involving a lot of water, didn't seem to affect her (at least, not as much) and she discovered that lathering up and simply sitting under the stream was a good alternative to the baths she was conflicted over whether or not she missed.

Nami grabbed a towel and some pajamas (a matching tank top and shorts) before heading into the bathroom. Sanji was stretched out on the couch with some sheet music (probably the songs they were going to perform for their first few performances) and another study book, only half paying attention as he asked her to let him know when she was done so he could rinse off, too.

The bathroom in their apartment had the usual sink and toilet, but a feature they hadn't taken into consideration was the shower stall, and luckily for them, it was perfect for their needs. The shower was just that, a shower, with no bathtub whatsoever. It was still the length of a tub so there was plenty of room to move around while in there (hence Nami's development of the "substitute bath"), but the lack of a basin to catch the water meant the floor dipped down a little and instead of a shower curtain, the unit was closed off by a fogged glass wall and sliding door.

Nami stripped out of the day's clothing, grabbed an extra scented bottle of body wash, and slid open the foggy glass door of their shower stall. Resting the soap on the floor, she turned on the water, waited for it to warm up, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She took her seat on the floor, squirted some of the wash into her open palm, and started to lather up and ponder what was going on.
Still no sign of Yasopp returning with Luffy and the others, although Shanks had sent word about a week ago that Ace had returned to Whitebeard. Nami supposed that, well, Luffy's brother was very loyal to his captain and there was probably only so long he could stay away from his own crew. Other than that, this didn't tell her anything about the whereabouts or condition of the other Straw Hats.

Nami started to massage the soap into her shoulders and sighed – they'd been a little tight.

Sanji's band was now two weeks away from its debut at the Cider Mug. The old posters advertising Core were now long gone, advertising the debut of the Turnover. There was a little chatter about it around town, some of which Nami picked up at the town hall, mostly curiosity surrounding the new lead singer and, to a lesser extent, how the old lead singer would respond.

She started to work the back of her neck and froze – although it was fading, she could still feel the bumps and lines of the mark That Man had left on her. Nami slowly took her hand away and focused on her breathing for a few moments, trying to let the memory pass before going back to rubbing her shoulders and focusing on her friend.

Nami wasn't quite sure how Sanji was taking everything with the band. Part of it was because he was focusing hard on learning to read music (a skill that, once he got it down, wouldn't require as much intensive study) between everything else he had going on, but part of it was also to keep his anxiety down – the training was probably good for that, too. He didn't talk about it much, but when he did talk about the performance Nami could sense he was understandably nervous and she did her best to calm him down.

Nerves aside, though, Nami thought Sanji was doing pretty well for himself. He was getting along great with his band mates (especially Braeburn – he and the blacksmith were hanging out rather frequently now), he was smiling more, and it seemed like he was starting to get some of his confidence back, even with his mild stage fight taken into consideration.

She smiled as she started washing her sides. The scent of apple blossoms had filled the bathroom, and Sanji would probably half-whine about it before the scent of his own minty, "manlier" smell took over. Nami giggled – Sanji didn't exactly dislike the smell of flowers, he just didn't like to smell like them himself.

Actually, Nami didn't mind the scent of his soap, either. It was similar to the stuff he used on the Thousand Sunny (albeit something made exclusively on Apple Island, considering the trade situation). He was the only male on the crew who washed regularly and kept on top of his laundry. It made him a little more pleasant to be around, even with cigarette smoke permeating all of his clothes.

Of course none of Sanji's clothing smelled like that anymore. Gala was very straight with Sanji about not picking up the habit again, even though she'd seen him look at a smoker on the island a little forlornly more than once. It had been over a year without a cigarette for him, but apparently some habits died harder than others, and there was probably something about them he missed (although, truth be told, Nami didn't miss the smell at all – their apartment smelled like apple trees in bloom and that was kind of awesome).

That probably made sleeping at night more bearable, too – they were usually huddled together, even as the warmer weather started to hit, and there was something comforting about the smell of the minty soap and the laundry detergent they'd adopted, and another scent beyond all of that that was just, well, Sanji. It helped her sleep peacefully and calmed her whenever nightmares struck.

Nami added another dollop of body wash to her palm and started washing her thighs.

Really, his presence made her feel much safer. It was comforting to wake up in the morning and see him still sleeping or rummaging about in their room for clothes to wear to work, his hair sticking out in several directions but a very wide awake smile on his face (because Sanji was a morning person who made other morning people look like grumps). She loved coming home to him waving at her from the kitchen with ten things going on at once and letting her know what was on that night's menu. She was starting to really love the sound of his singing voice, too, even if most of what she heard was just warm-ups and scales, and even if they were screw ups and he swore before starting over.

He was getting into shape, too, and it really, really was showing. Sanji wasn't ripped like Zoro or some of the other pirates and Marines they'd encountered, but he was still very toned and had well-defined abs and pecs, and his arms weren't too bad either (either from all the stirring and chopping he did in the kitchen or all the handstands he did when fighting). They were probably solid to the touch by now, or would be soon, and-

Nami realized her heart was beating a little faster than usual and she paused – although Gala insisted her heart was fine now, she was still sensitive to what it was doing sometimes and this caught her a little off guard. This was the shower, her substitute bath, this was supposed to be relaxing! What the hell could have caused that?

That was when Nami realized where her hand was.

And what it had been doing.

Panicked, Nami was on her feet and shrieking, sending water and soap suds flying in all directions. She heard a banging on the bathroom door followed by it swinging open, and she froze in place. Shit. She'd nearly forgotten Sanji was home. "Nami-san! Nami-san are you all right!? What happened?"

Sanji was standing outside of the fogged glass door, and Nami reached over to the handle to keep it close. "Sorry! Something took me by surprise, that's all! I'm okay, I'm fine, just let me rinse off and you can take the shower, okay?" If she thought her heart was beating fast before, now it was about ready to leap out of her chest.

"Are you sure?" Sanji's voice had calmed, but he was still worried.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, don't worry about."

Sanji stood there, his barely visible form still holding concern. "I'm going to boil up some water and leave some chamomile tea out for you. While I'm in there I want you to have a cup, okay?" Nami nodded (even knowing there was no way Sanji could tell from where she stood), and watched as the blurry colors that were him exited the bathroom.

"You sure you're okay?" he called from behind the closed door.

Nami swallowed. "Yeah. I'll be done in a minute."

After getting rinsing off, drying off, and then making the fastest sprint to their bedroom Nami thought possible to get dressed as quickly as she could, she found herself sitting over a cup of chamomile tea (which Sanji had prepared just the way she liked it – with a little bit of milk and honey), staring at it while her hands shook.

Of course he knew how she liked her tea. Of course.

It wasn't like Nami had never done that before – she was a virgin, not an oblivious virgin who knew nothing of the way things worked between a man and a woman, or a man and a man, or a woman and woman. She'd experimented a little before, and Nojiko had insisted that it was completely normal and natural to have certain urges and then . . . act on them. She had a small library of "those kinds of novels" hidden in a shoe box in a small trunk surrounded by shoe boxes containing shoes under her bed on the Thousand Sunny, and one she'd acquired since coming to the island at the back of her sock drawer in a box labeled "TAMPONS" to make sure Sanji never found out about it.

(Actually, Sanji was well aware of the book – she'd left it out one afternoon and he'd read the first five chapters over a cup of coffee and a piece of pie. He gave up after finding the characters to be bland and uninteresting, and Nami assumed she had recovered the literature before her roommate discovered it.)

This time was different. This wasn't about the adventures of Sir "I Don't Buy Shirts That Fit Properly Because I'm Beautiful" and Lady "My Boobs Are Busting Out of This Bodice Like Twin Waterfalls". Those were pretend. This hadn't been. This was about Sanji, Sanji, of all people! This was her best friend, her roommate, her . . .

Nami pressed a hand to her forehead and took a sip of tea. She remembered telling him that he was her most important treasure. She remember how she felt the first time she'd been alone after the night Sanji kissed her. She remembered staring like an idiot at him when she was trying to convince him to try out for Braeburn's band. And then paired with this afternoon and what had happened in the shower . . .

Son of a . . .

Nami didn't think her feelings for Sanji were very platonic anymore.

Author's Notes

Remember when I said M rated material was around the corner?

I have no idea if the balance exercise was a real one or not, but there's likely some stuff from high school and college in there. Don't try it at home, though – I can't promise the safety of anyone who tries it.

The title of the chapter comes from the chorus line of a certain song by a band called the Divinyls. I'm sure at least some of you are familiar with it and know what the subject matter is. Here's a hint: it has a lot to do with what Nami was doing in the shower.

Dixxy