N13's muscles screamed in protest as she sank against the rail, her head drooping forward. She was used to physical activity, it had been a part of her tests to be as physically fit as possible, but this was something else entirely.

Sweat trickled down her neck and braid; she still wore her hair stuffed into the hat Rayleigh gave her, but she felt awkward without it. None of the crew had seen her hair aside from her braid yet, which was darker than her real hair.

And she could feel it was a tangled mess by now.

Benn cracked a grin and slung his rifle over his shoulders, leaning back some. "I didn't say we were done yet." He hadn't broken a sweat and didn't seem to be winded at all.

A flicker of irritation coursed through N13's body, but she forced her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against her knee. The sword in her hand was heavy, not literally, but because she had been using it for an hour straight. She was barely out of breath, but she wasn't used to the movement this required.

It had only been a week, and she was no better than when she started. Benn usually practiced with her, though sometimes the others helped. Shanks in particular seemed to enjoy showing her how to move the sword effortlessly, but she wasn't sure if she liked it.

But training with him was a lot less taxing, at least.

"Give her a break Benn. You guys have been at it for almost two hours now," Shanks called from the quarterdeck. She hadn't known he was watching, but she wasn't surprised.

But two hours? That explained why this was a little taxing then. Usually she took periodic breaks, and she had never gone more than maybe an hour between exercises before.

The air tasted heavily of sweat, salt, and the now almost comfortably familiar smoke and ash of Benn's cigarettes; she seriously couldn't understand how he always had one. He should have lung cancer by now, she thought.

She looked up in time to see Benn cock his head at her, then shrug, his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. N13 ignored him, focusing instead on her breath.

"Alright, you've got a point. We're almost to port anyway," he said, joining the captain.

N13 looked over the rail at the approaching land. She could see several ships in port, though none were pirates or Navy. Several buildings stretched up behind the ships, maybe two stories, but she couldn't make anything else out. The island had been spotted the day before and she was both eager and scared to see her first place since being free, not including a dark Sabaody.

A small mountain rose behind the town, growing larger as they got closer. She could see the shore from here, and what she thought might be a forest. She had never seen so many shades of green.

"Excited?" Yasopp jumped down next to her, startling her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." His grin was almost infectious, but her heart was pounding a little too hard to reciprocate it.

Biting her tongue against a retort but shooting him a glare, she didn't stand until they were nearly docked. She stood against the railing with Yasopp as the rest of the crew left the ship. A handful were staying behind, but most were already gone. The thick taste she had grown accustomed to faded as they left.

Almost unconsciously, she watched Hongo head into town alone. A pang of guilt shot through her, but she shook it off.

Relaxing a little, she watched them chat amongst themselves as they split up at the end of the dock. Most went into town, though a few headed down the beach. She almost envied the ease they had with each other.

Shanks smirked as he walked up to her and Yasopp. "Yasopp, take her into town, will you? While we're here, she can get something else to wear."

N13's cheeks burned. The clothes she had worn the first couple of days were dirty from helping in the kitchen a few nights ago, and she'd had to borrow a set from Benn. She hated it, but he was the only one with clothes tall enough for her that wouldn't swamp her frame entirely. A borrowed scarf was wrapped around her neck; Shanks wouldn't let her around anyone without her tattoo covered.

She still didn't understand his reaction to it, but he had looked angry enough she didn't question him.

Yasopp grinned. "You're right, she needs her own gear." He took the pouch Shanks handed him, then turned to N13, noticing her hesitation. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, this town's small. Stick with me, and you'll be fine."

Not nearly as confident as him, N13 just nodded and stayed at his heels.

The town wasn't that big, like he said, but everything here was unfamiliar. The market air buzzed with life, a blend of scents and tastes—sweaty bodies, fresh produce, and the musk of animals—swirling around her in a heady, overwhelming mix. Market stalls outside certain shops were mostly of fruits or veggies, Yasopp pointed out a small butcher's shop where Roux was already inside getting meat for their stores, and a weapons store she eyed curiously.

She tasted the nerve-wracking lab tastes outside an apothecary, signaling Hongo had recently went inside. Limejuice and Snake were chatting outside a small technical looking shop, but she didn't see the rest of the crew.

The clothing shop was small, but she felt a weight life from her shoulders when she spotted clothing for tall people. Yasopp waited outside.

"Can I help you two?" A woman came around a cabinet a second later, the click of a door behind her.

N13 tasted the sweetness of honey from the woman and relaxed. "I'm looking for clothes that could fit me and noticed you have a tall section."

The woman eyed her critically, then nodded. "Come with me."

Following the woman through the small selection of tall clothes, she picked out a few simple shirts, a couple pairs of long pants, and a few pairs of shorts. This would be plenty. But the only problem was her tattoo now. None of the shirts had tall necks, resting either below her collarbone or just above.

"Um, I hate to ask, but do you sell scarves or something?" She asked after she had picked out the rest of her clothes. The fabrics were softer than she had ever felt, and everything was much finer than what she had been wearing so far. These were all simple, but she already liked them.

The woman tilted her head, frowning. "This is a summer island, dear; we don't carry many things like scarves or gloves."

"I have a scar on my neck I'd like to keep hidden," N13 explained with a grimace. She wasn't sure what the woman meant by summer island, but said nothing and made a mental note to ask Yasopp later.

The woman smiled. "If it's small, we have a selection of wide chokers over here. They should be big enough to hide it." She led N13 to a small glass cabinet where strips of fabric were laid out carefully. On top, there was a small bust of a neck, where a simple lace thing wrapped around neck was displayed. "Some of these are a little thin, but the two types on this end should be wide enough."

The two kinds pointed out where of something woven and leather. N13 picked through the leather ones, noticing some tied and some had a button or two. She liked the feeling of the leather, but she wondered if it would be a good idea. While she wasn't familiar with a lot of things, she knew leather could be freezing if it was too cold or burning if it was too hot.

The woven ones were soft, but almost itchy. They had more designs though, and she kind of liked them.

"Pick one of each," the woman suggested.

N13 deliberated for just a moment, then grabbed a dark leather one and a bright blue silky fabric, then followed the woman to the counter. She didn't seem to mind that N13 wasn't that familiar with money and helped her sort out the correct amount. In the end, it hardly costed anything, at least that's what N13 thought, and she joined Yasopp outside shortly afterwards.

"Find enough?" he asked, noticing her bag.

"Enough that I shouldn't have to borrow from Benn anymore," she grumbled.

Yasopp snorted. "Not like you could've borrowed from anyone else. Come on, we can stop by a few other places. I saw you looking at the weapon shop."

"How long will we stay here?" she asked.

He shrugged. "A day, maybe two."

Walking down the street, he stopped at a few stalls where he picked out some leather thongs, a small pouch, and a few things he said were for his pistols. N13 grabbed a couple of thin ones for herself, thinking to tie her hair eventually and a wide one to wrap around the end of her braid.

Most of the people were friendly enough, chatting for a moment as the pair looked at their wares. Eventually, they found themselves at the weapons shop.

Her head almost spinning from the tastes surrounding her, she followed Yasopp inside, blinking against the sudden gloom, but let her shoulders drop as the taste faded.

A man called out from behind the counter, "Welcome. Anything in particular we're looking for?"

Yasopp paused, then turned to N13. "I know you've been practicing with a sword the past week, but you don't have to get one if you would prefer something else."

N13 nodded, her gaze flicking around the shop. Yasopp had showed her the general weapons the crew used, but most of these were like nothing she could've guessed at. Long blades, short daggers, rifles, pistols, and a multitude of others all piled together or hanging from the walls. The air tasted of steel, iron, a heady type of wood, oil, and gunpowder.

Yasopp immediately went for the pistols, chatting with the shopkeeper about the different types he saw.

N13's fingers brushed lightly over the weapons on display, her eyes wide. The heavy wooden ones with tapered ends and the brutal-looking hammers made her step back, but she lingered over the daggers, staves, and short swords.

A staff caught her eye and she carefully picked it up. It looked short, but she doubted some of the crew would consider it that. A curved blade at one end, and on the other end a thick knob of wood, it was surprisingly light. She stood it up against her side and the bladed end nearly reached her brow.

"That's a glaive," the shopkeeper said from somewhere behind her. "Those are difficult to handle, but I've seen some people manage it."

Yasopp joined her. "We don't have anyone on the crew that could help you with that, though Limejuice uses a staff," he said. "And you'd have to keep the blade clean, but that's true for any weapon."

N13 tried to think of how she'd watched Limejuice the other day when he sparred with Shanks, but didn't think using this would be anything like that. "It would keep people at a distance though."

Yasopp nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged. "As long as you don't kill any of us with it, no one would complain if you brought that back."

In the end, she picked the glaive and a dagger, as well as a blade-cleaning kit, then followed Yasopp back outside; the money pouch was considerably lighter now. Shanks met them in front of a larger building with a sign that read "Tavern".

"Glad you found something," he remarked, seeing her new weapons. "But that's a tricky weapon. Whitebeard uses something similar, though a lot bigger."

"Whitebeard?" N13 hadn't heard the name before, but the way he said it made her think they were important.

Shanks nodded. "One of the four Yonko's in the New World. He's powerful, said to be the strongest man in the world." He jerked his head towards the door. "Most of the crew is inside already. Yasopp, why don't you join them and I'll take her back to the ship for now."

Yasopp gave N13 a smile before darting inside. The taste of his excitement was more bitter than lemon, but unmistakable. The taste of spirits came through the open door briefly and N13 mentally sighed. It seemed like the entire crew drank whenever they could. She had certainly noticed it in the almost two weeks she had been with them.

Shanks didn't say anything until they were almost to the ship, where they could see Benn and Bonk on guard on the quarterdeck; Monster was slinging about the rigging above them. "Why don't you go change, then come back to the bar with us?" She could only describe the look on his face as hopeful and she smiled.

"Maybe. I don't like spirits, but I would like to get to know everyone better," she said. He grinned widely. "Should I leave my glaive on the ship?"

Shanks looked at her weapon and nodded once. "I would, at least until you know how to use it. But keep your dagger on you. I'll wait here."

Quickly, she dashed up the gangplank and slipped inside, feeling the two men on the ship watching her. She went to the crew's quarters, glad it was empty, and quickly changed into a tight fitting dark blue shirt and pair of black shorts that reached halfway to her knees. She hadn't worn shorts since she was little and missed them. Tugging her shirt over her head, she was a little surprised when it barely came to her midriff. She hadn't meant to get a short shirt like this, but rather liked the tight fit. The neck was snug too, rising just above her collarbone, but she wished it were higher.

She felt awkward showing so much skin. Her arms almost to her shoulders were bare, as were her legs, stomach area, and…

N13 ran her fingers over the scarf covering her neck, the fabric rough against her skin. Shanks' order to keep her tattoo hidden echoed in her head, but she undid the scarf quickly. It was far too hot for it and she couldn't wear it forever.

Using the mirror at the end of the room, she put on the leather choker and adjusted it until she was satisfied her tattoo was covered. The leather was snug against her skin, and the buttons didn't itch thankfully. Before she moved however, she looked at herself. It was the first time she had seen herself since leaving the labs two years ago.

Her skin was darkening in places, but the freckles across her nose stood out more. Her hair was still stuffed under the hat and she contemplated taking it off. She had yet to remove it since Sabaody, but decided to leave it on until she could comb her hair properly. Her pale violet eyes, almost silver in the dim area, already looked happier though.

Her mouth twitched up at that, but she didn't let herself get caught up in those thoughts.

Turning away from the mirror, she folded up Benn's clothes, but paused. She wasn't sure where he slept, as she'd been sleeping on deck where the stairs led from the main deck to the quarterdeck. Shanks had been uncomfortable with that, but relented when she said she would rather be where she could see the sky. And it hadn't rained, so he hadn't pushed going below, especially after her reaction to Hongo.

Finally she just left them stacked on a barrel near the stairs, stuck her dagger into the loop around her waist, leaned her glaive just inside the mess and tied her bag with remaining clothes to it, then went back outside.

N13 wasn't prepared for Shanks' reaction though and stopped when she reached the dock, holding her braid as he openly gaped at her. "Is something wrong?"

Shanks' eyes widened, his face turning crimson. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to stick, emerging in a stammer. A taste almost like ginger swelled out from him. "Yeah, it's just…that looks good on you." A burst of laughter came from behind her and she tasted something bright from the ship.

Benn's hand came down on her shoulder, making her jump. "Ignore him," the older man drawled. "We just didn't expect you to wear something like that." She hadn't noticed him walk up behind her, the taste of ash weaker than usual; a brief glance told her he was missing a cigarette for once.

"Not that we expected clothes like before, it's just that's so…" Shanks' face was getting redder by the second.

The laughter got louder and Benn chuckled. "It's a lot different from what you've been wearing before N-" He stopped himself, his fist curled at his side. "Dang it!"

N13 and Shanks stared at him, both surprised by the brief outburst.

"Sorry, but do you have a different name we could use?" He stepped back, a hand behind his head. He was gripping his rifle tightly, his expression carefully controlled.

N13 blinked in confusion.

"He's…got a point. We should've thought of something else before we left Sabaody," Shanks, his face no longer red, looked at the ship. Sourness rose from him.

N13 wasn't exactly bothered by it, but she wished she understood why it bugged them so much. "I don't being called-"

"No." Shanks snapped his eyes to hers. "That wasn't even a name, alright?" Haki sparked around them.

She looked at Benn, who looked calm as usual but again, except for the white knuckles around his rifle. She remembered him reacting like that in Sabaody, but never thought it was just because her tattoo.

"He's right. That wasn't a name," Benn growled. "And besides us, only Yasopp knew it. You can pick your own."

N13 tightened her grip, wincing as she accidentally squeezed the fading bruise. Names were something alien to her, something other people had. None of the others in the labs had them, and she never learned the names of the doctors or scientists.

"Hm," Shanks hummed, cocking his head at her. "Names usually reflect a person, but we don't know you yet." She had spoken very little to most of the crew, preferring to listen for the time being, so that was no surprise.

"Aria." Benn's suggestion was hesitant, and when they both faced him, he shrugged. "I heard her humming along to the crew the other day, and yesterday when she was reading at the bow. She's got a good voice."

N13 stared at him. How had he noticed that? She could sing, she just didn't know any songs by heart and had been punished for it sometimes. Even then she knew that wasn't fair, but she never complained. And her humming was always involuntary. But she hadn't realized she had done it here, not when she hadn't used her voice for almost two years before meeting Rayleigh.

Shanks watched him curiously, but spoke to N13. "Would that be alright?"

N13 shrugged, unease flickering through her mind. "It doesn't matter to me. I'm used to being called whatever."

From the annoyed look on Shanks' face, she knew he didn't like that response, but he said nothing.

"The crew's already asked about your name, and we've refused to tell them what Rayleigh explained to us," Benn told her. "They won't say anything, but a few of them have already guessed you were a slave before us."

N13 sighed and nodded. "They aren't correct, but I don't want them asking." Benn's eyes widened slightly and he looked at Shanks, who gave a tense nod. "I'm fine with it."

Shanks tipped his hat back a little, his eyes almost hard. "You'll have to be more than fine with it, Aria. You're free now. You shouldn't be called by that…" He closed his eyes and turned around, not bothering to finish his sentence.

N13, no, Aria, watched him in confusion. She already felt a little better having a name, though she wasn't sure why. "Shanks, why does that bother you so much?" Now that she thought about it, he always seemed more bothered than anyone else by that.

He didn't answer her, just laced his hands on his head.

Benn spoke instead. "Captain here grew up a pirate, as you heard Rayleigh say, and to Shanks, being a slave is one of the worst things that can happen to someone. But whatever you've been through has been worse, though I don't know everything Rayleigh told him." He shot a look towards Shanks. "Whatever that number designation means, that's not you."

Aria was shocked. How much had Rayleigh guessed? Then told Shanks?

Shanks spoke, but he didn't turn around. "Aria, I don't want to hear you ever call yourself by that again, alright?" Without waiting for a response, he stalked off down the road in a wave of spice and sourness.

Aria watched him, confused, but didn't follow.

Benn nudged her. "Stay on the ship with me and Bonk for now. Let him cool off." Another taste of cloves followed him as he headed back to the ship.

She watched after Shanks. He was past the tavern now, but she could feel his haki from here, still taste the spice of his rage. She wanted to go after him, ask him to explain what Rayleigh told him, try to understand why her designation made him so mad.

With a sigh, Aria turned back to the ship and joined the other two. Going after Shanks wouldn't help right now.