Chapter 5 - Hope
Draven watched the flicker of hope dance in Nojiko's eyes the moment he posed the question. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was swallowed by wariness and suspicion. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of what he was offering. Was he serious?
"How… how would you even do something like that?" she asked, her voice steady, but the disbelief evident.
Draven shrugged, leaning back in his chair, completely unconcerned. "Killing him and his crew, of course."
Her mouth fell open in shock. She stared at him as if he had just said the most ludicrous thing in the world. For a moment, she was utterly speechless. Then, a spark of anger flashed across her face. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface erupted.
"Do you think it's that easy to kill him?" she snapped, her voice rising. "People have died trying to stand up to him! You… you can't just waltz in here and act like it's some small task! He's a monster!"
Her hands balled into fists on the table, her voice breaking as she spoke, and Draven realized she wasn't just angry—she was grieving. The wound Arlong had left wasn't just about the village; it was personal. It was about Bellemere. The tears that formed in her eyes spoke volumes, and for the first time, Draven saw the depth of her pain.
His gaze softened slightly, but only because it was Nojiko. He didn't need to ask to know she was thinking about her mother, about all the people who had been crushed under Arlong's iron fist. Normally, the sight of someone else's pain wouldn't stir anything in him—death was just a fact of life, something inevitable. The strong exerted their will over the weak; that was how the world worked. He had no sentimentality for death itself, but seeing that pain in her eyes, the eyes of someone he intended to claim, stirred a different kind of frustration. He didn't like seeing her like this.
"I'm starting my journey as a pirate soon." He said, his voice steady and sure. "I'm building a crew—people with potential. And you…" He locked eyes with her, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You've got something special. That fire in you, that spirit—it's exactly what I want on my side."
Nojiko blinked, the shift in conversation catching her off guard. "W-What?"
"That's the price," Draven said, leaning forward slightly. "I get rid of Arlong and his crew. In exchange, you join me as my first mate."
Nojiko stared at him, baffled. Her mind raced, trying to process everything he had just said. Was he really suggesting that? It sounded insane, but… if it meant freedom for her and Nami, for the whole village… could she really turn him down?
"You… want me to be your crewmate?" she stuttered, her voice shaky, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.
Draven nodded, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "That's the deal. You'll be my first," he said, adding a wink for emphasis.
Nojiko blinked, her mind not even registering the innuendo as it raced through the whirlwind of thoughts. This boy—this stranger—was offering her something unimaginable: a way to end the nightmare that had consumed her village for two years. All he wanted in return was for her to sail with him. It seemed like such a small price to pay. But could she trust him? Could he really pull off something so impossible?
"I… I need to talk to my sister first," she finally said, her voice shaky but resolute. "I can't make this decision without her. Nami's out of the village right now, but—"
Draven held up a hand, cutting her off gently. "Take your time. I'm in no rush." He waved her off, his tone casual, as if what they had just discussed was nothing more than a simple favor.
They finished their meal in relative silence after that, Nojiko still processing everything. Once they stood to leave, Draven told her where he was staying, the local inn where he had rented a room. "Let me know when you've made your decision," he said as they walked back to the main street.
Nojiko nodded, still in a daze. But before he could turn and leave, she hesitated. Her feet rooted to the spot, and she looked down at the ground, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm weak, ya know?" she said quietly, her fingers trembling as she gripped the handle of her basket. It was something she had never openly admitted to anyone. But here, standing in front of this strange boy who spoke so easily of killing monsters, she felt the need to say it aloud. I'm weak. Too weak to protect anyone.
Draven paused mid-step, a dangerous smile creeping across his face. It took him a few deliberate strides to close the distance between them again. Once close, he lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze, his eyes gleaming with something dark—something powerful.
"No," he said softly, his voice low and intense. "You're not weak. You've got the potential to be stronger than you can possibly imagine."
His words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Nojiko's heart skipped a beat as she looked into his eyes, seeing the absolute conviction in them. There was something about the way he said it, the confidence in his voice, that made her almost believe him.
Almost.
She nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat, before turning and walking away. As she disappeared into the streets of Cocoyashi Village, Draven watched her go, a small smirk on his lips.
He was already planning his next move.
Nami's POV
Nami huddled in the dark, cramped space of the barrel, holding her breath as she strained to listen for any movement outside. The rough wood scratched against her arms, but she remained absolutely still, her heart pounding in her chest. She'd learned early on that silence was her best friend. At just 13 years old, she had already mastered the art of slipping through the cracks—unseen, unheard, and untouched.
The pirate crew hadn't noticed her at all when they had loaded the barrel onboard, and she was grateful for that. It had been hours since she'd heard anyone pass by, so she dared to think it was safe to move. Slowly, she lifted the lid and peeked out, her sharp brown eyes scanning the empty deck. No one in sight.
With a sigh of relief, she climbed out of the barrel, her body stiff from staying in one position for so long. Her stomach growled, but food could wait. There were more important things to take care of first. Nami wasn't just stowing away for fun—she had a job to do.
Find the treasure.
Keeping low to the deck, she darted across the ship, her footsteps light and silent. The night was quiet, with only the soft lapping of the waves against the hull and the creaking of the ship in the breeze. She moved quickly, searching for a weapon. Her collapsible staff wasn't quite ready yet—it still needed a few more days of work—and she felt exposed without something to protect her. Her eyes fell on an open barrel filled with swords. She grimaced, wrinkling her nose.
"I hate these things…" she muttered under her breath, but she reached in and grabbed one anyway. It was heavier than she expected, the blade cold and sharp in her hand. The thought of using it made her stomach churn. Nami wasn't squeamish, but the spray of blood a sword would cause… it wasn't her style. She preferred clean, precise work. Still, she needed something in case she got caught.
Better to have it and not need it, she told herself.
Sword in hand, she continued her search, sneaking past closed doors and sleeping crew members. Her heart raced every time she passed someone, her breath catching in her throat, but no one stirred. After what felt like an eternity of creeping through the ship, she finally found it—the treasure hold.
Her eyes lit up, her heart doing a little flip as she slipped inside, gasping softly at the sight before her. Piles of gold coins, jewelry, and other valuables were stacked haphazardly, glinting faintly in the dim light. But what truly caught her eye was the bag stuffed full of beri.
Without even counting, she knew—almost a million beri!
Her eyes turned into literal beri symbols, gleaming with greed and excitement. Her love of money was so strong, she could practically sense the exact amount. She could already imagine what she'd do with that kind of cash—how it would help her and Nojiko, bringing her one step closer to freeing their village from Arlong. She grabbed the bag, tucking it under her arm, and darted back to her hiding spot. The barrel was cramped, but she slid inside with ease, making sure the bag was securely tucked away.
Hours passed. Nami remained silent, her breathing shallow, as the crew began to stir. The ship bustled with activity, the pirates moving around the deck and calling out to one another. She didn't move an inch, even when the noise grew louder. Her patience paid off, as half a day later, the ship finally anchored at a dock. She could feel the steady motion of the ship come to a stop, and the loud clatter of the crew leaving the ship told her it was time to move.
Carefully, she slipped out of the barrel once more, the heavy bag of beri still in hand. She snuck her way across the deck, avoiding any lingering pirates with ease. Nami had always been good at this—stealing, sneaking, surviving. She didn't even think about it anymore. It was second nature to her.
Once her feet hit the dock, she let out a quiet sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She had made it. No one had caught her, and, more importantly, she hadn't needed to use the sword. That was a victory in itself.
She glanced around the island, taking in her surroundings. It was a small port town, with the typical bustling docks and merchants yelling about their wares. Her keen sense of direction kicked in almost immediately, and as she sniffed the air, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
A smile spread across her face.
I know exactly where I am.
Her internal compass had never failed her. She was only a few days' journey away from home. All she needed now was a dinghy, and she could sail southeast straight back to Cocoyashi Village.
Her heart swelled with excitement at the thought of returning home with the haul she'd gotten this time. Almost a million beri. That would put a serious dent in Arlong's debt. Maybe, just maybe, she'd even see the end of it sooner than she thought.
She couldn't wait to show Nojiko.
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In the middle of the vast ocean, the marine frigate cut through the waves, its imposing sails towering over the crew below. Aboard the ship, nestled in the grand captain's quarters, sat Commodore Nelson Royale, lounging on his oversized throne that was barely able to contain his mountainous bulk. The room smelled faintly of sweat and grease, with food scraps littered across the floor, evidence of his gluttonous lifestyle.
Nelson Royale was a truly grotesque sight. His morbidly obese figure sprawled out, his enormous belly drooping over the sides of his chair, nearly touching the floor. His skin was slick with sweat, his face flushed red from both exertion and the obscene amount of food he constantly shoved into his gaping mouth. His double chin quivered as he chewed lazily on the last scraps of a meal, already finishing the plate that sat like a greasy tray on his immense stomach.
With a loud belch, he pushed the plate aside, letting it slide off his belly and crash onto the floor. His pig-like eyes gleamed with irritation.
"More food!" he bellowed, his voice rumbling through the ship like an earthquake.
One of his trembling subordinates rushed into the room, saluting nervously before quickly disappearing to fulfill the command. Nelson's tiny, beady eyes followed the marine for a moment before he leaned back, sighing in boredom.
He hated this assignment. A man as great and important as him, chasing down some insignificant rat in a small, backwater village like Cocoyashi? What a complete waste of his talents. He was Commodore Nelson Royale—his name carried weight, his status demanded respect! He didn't have time to bother with such trivial matters. But orders were orders, and he begrudgingly accepted the mission.
Still, he had to find a way to make this detour worth his while.
His fat fingers drummed lazily against his belly as he thought about the village. Cocoyashi. A tiny, insignificant place. Barely worth the ink on the map. And yet, there was something there, wasn't there?
Ah, yes. That fishman pirate, Arlong.
Nelson's lips curled into a smug, toothy grin, his yellowed teeth gleaming under the dim cabin light. He'd heard the rumors—everyone had. Arlong ruled over the island, squeezing the villagers for every last bit of money and leaving them destitute. But no one did anything about it. Why? Because Arlong had once been part of Jimbei's crew, and no one in the East Blue wanted to deal with the fallout of tangling with a pirate of that caliber.
But Nelson Royale? He didn't care.
In fact, he saw an opportunity. If the marines didn't want to interfere, well, that was their loss. He could always… negotiate with Arlong. Maybe get a piece of the action for himself. A tribute, of sorts. Arlong wouldn't dare go against a man like him—Commodore Nelson Royale—not if he wanted to avoid trouble from the World Government. And as for the villagers?
Nelson chuckled, his chins wobbling as he reached for another tray of food that had just been placed before him by his trembling marine. They were already exploited from one side, why not squeeze them from the other?
"Heh…" he grunted to himself, tearing into a roasted leg of something he couldn't be bothered to identify. "Might as well make this trip worthwhile. I'll take what's owed to me from those fools. Maybe I'll even have Arlong pay me a little respect too. Doesn't hurt to collect a few extra beri while I'm here."
He bit down hard, the juices of the meat dribbling down his double chins.
Little did he know, however, that Cocoyashi Village was already being squeezed dry—both by Arlong and a certain mousey-looking captain of the marines.