Chapter Nineteen – Somewhere Near Two Unconscious Men
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a hand latches on his arm in a fierce grip, and yet the voice is too broken to be hostile. Just by hearing his voice, Ace knows Koji is holding back hysteria and tears, and seeking a target to take it out on. So, Ace gives him a few more moments.
"Get lost!" Koji continues, the sound reverberating off walls in the silence around them. In front of them both is the scene called in and described only minutes before – two unconscious men and all around them is red, red, red.
"He's my brother!" Koji had shouted, and now, that's all Ace can hear underlying every ugly word and accusation.
"You don't need to fucking be here, you are the last person who needs to be here! If it weren't for people like you, if people like you didn't fucking exist—" "He's my brother!"
(Another voice, his own: "Do you think that I deserved to be born?")
"Because I'm a Pirate?" Ace snaps, turning on him suddenly, caught off guard by the resurfacing of his own memories and the stab Koji had unknowingly taken against an open wound, "Is that your whole reason for blaming me?" He hadn't realised his features had contorted into a glare until Koji flinched back and he caught himself again. He was going to tear into him, without even a thought of stopping himself.
(Is Marco right?) Damn it.
"Just let me go," Ace ends up ordering, shaking off the other man's hand. Without a backwards glance, he stalks to the scene before him, uncaring of Koji's protests. It doesn't take long for new thoughts to fill his mind, pushing out the ones he really does not want to keep.
This… is awful. Ace's experienced eyes scan the scene from a distance, taking care not to disturb the area too much. It seems too vivid to be real, a still from a movie, but then—
The movement catches his attention. His breath catches.
When it comes back, he turns and calls to Koji, "Call an ambulance! Now!" he yells at his hesitance.
"Why do you need—" Koji begins to demand, but he answers his own question first, "They're—"
"One is," Ace interrupts impatiently. The Pirate is dead. Of that, there is no doubt even if this is supported by visual evidence alone. But, the officer… the officer's chest is rising and falling with shallow, pained breaths and intermixed words.
Ace listens carefully. He makes out the familiar movement of the man's lips and adds, "Hurry up and call.
"Your brother's asking for you."
After this, Ace stations himself near the intersection to anticipate the approaching vehicles, indeed feeling like an intruder to the scene exclusive to the two brothers. Soon, he can hear sirens approaching in the distance and knows help will arrive shortly. So, he turns his minds to other thoughts.
One man dead. One beaten within an inch of his life. Ridiculously lucky or deliberate? He immediately decides in favour of the latter. The dead man had been dealt with thoroughly, almost professionally by Ace's standard. There is no way such a person would be careless towards their second victim. A message to the police then? Keep out? The only person with that kind of motive would be a Pirate. Most Pirates would be incapable of showing such restraint. The callous, common crop would have killed a man of the opposite side on sight. To think one might leave the officer alive as some sort of message…
Sure enough, when he follows the vehicles back to the scene of the crime, Koji is standing by the ambulance as his brother is transported inside. His back is to him, but Ace can guess the direction of his thoughts and the expressions reflected on his face.
"You can't," he deadpans. Koji actually jumps at this and whirls around, his eyes bulging out of his skull at Ace standing languidly nearby. "Someone like you definitely can't go after someone who did something like that."
This sparks a response, which is all Ace needs. This type of hostility is familiar, manageable, and he knows how to deal with it. Koji stalks forward, his hands clenched tight but he doesn't swing. It is grief that fuels his outrage, Ace realises. If it had been genuine hatred for Ace himself, he would've swung, long ago. Same as at the station previously. He had been wary and he had lightly questioned Nojiko; but he didn't discriminate against Ace completely. It is that knowledge which increases Ace's respect for this man, even if he is on the receiving end of such a fierce expression presently.
Koji growls, "Who the hell do you think you are? If it was your brother lying there—"
"I get it," Ace interrupts him quickly. Koji is taking too many stabs at too many open wounds that Ace had been allowing to scab, too slowly, over time, "I get it, alright?" At Koji's sceptical look, he finds himself forcing out, "You know, I used to have two brothers. Now, I only have one.
"And maybe that's not the same thing. Hell, it definitely isn't. But, this part…" This part: the anger, the urge to go after someone or something and take it out, brutally and painfully, on that thing, "… This part, at least, I understand."
So, just let me deal with it, alright? Not even as a Pirate, or a police dog, but as a brother… Those two sentences. Two sentences are all that he has to spit out and he can't do it; because he is afraid if he opens his mouth, those sentences will dry up and dissolve and he'll start rambling without pause. To a stranger. The words wanted to break out once, while Ace was balanced on the edge of a cliff and trying to console his one weeping, remaining brother. He hadn't moved a single muscle then – not to smack Luffy's head when he declared he would never cry again and would become stronger than anyone, nor to scoff 'even stronger than me? I'd like to see you try!' He hadn't moved a single muscle, and it was largely due to the same fears he suffered at the moment; because, over his damned, dead body would he ever let Luffy, of all people, see him hurting as badly as he did. To hell would he ever let a stranger see that, either.
So, he doesn't say a word. Luckily for him, it seems his words and personal admission have already formed an implicit understanding. Koji doesn't say another word either, but he nods once, his eyes shadowed by the standard cap he's pulled back over his head. As he passes Ace, heading back to the patrol car, he turns back last minute, seeming to fumble with the sentence for a second. Ace watches him curiously.
"Need a lift?" he finally asks. The apology is almost invisible in the offer, but Ace grasps it, like a mirage, and chooses to believe in its existence anyway. He shakes his head.
"Nah. Go on."
Koji doesn't ask twice. As soon as he leaves, some of stifling tension leaves with him, and Ace lets out a breath he'd been holding in unconsciously. The wisps of white make a startling contrast when it floats over the red stains that remain.
"Here's fine."
"We're on a highway—"
"Just park in the bus lane. It's fine."
"You are unbelievable." Still, Nami flicks on the indicator and floors the brake to ease the car into the bus lane. More than a few beeps follow this action, though both girls hardly notice.
Without a single trace of humour, Nami asks, "Do you expect me to believe you live on the highway, now?"
"If you want to believe that, I won't stop you." Ain retrieves her belongings from the console and unlatches her door. Neither say 'goodbye' when the door slams shut once again. Nami doesn't know whether Ain is pissed or worse since Nami hung up from dialling in the incident to the station. Using Ain's phone, no less.
She waits until Ain turns off onto a non-descript road and disappears from the pools of light illuminating the highway before she restarts the car to leave. She doesn't want to think about this night anymore. By the time she pulls up outside the station, she's still no closer to accomplishing this goal than she was leaving F District.
Red, red, red.
She hears the click of a gun.
"Hey, hey, calm down…" and suddenly, Nojiko is there, her hands over Nami's, their matching bangles a dull glint of gold between them, "Nami, hey… it's just me." Eyes that would look like hers were they filled with barely concealed fear instead of steadiness held Nami's own and soon, the tightness in Nami's chest eases up.
"Don't do that," Nami forces out. With her tone, it could have been a stutter or a question.
"Open the door to get in my own car?" Nojiko jokes.
Not while I'm thinking of that… not when anything can sound like that.
At Nami's silence, Nojiko's own expression sobers and she moves again, releasing Nami's hands from her own. They're cold; Nami rubs them together briefly, not knowing whether they appear red and stained or not. They're shaking.
And Nojiko says: "Swap seats with me. I'll drive." Nami doesn't protest.
…
Once they're on the road again, Nojiko tries not to think too much of Nami's silence. Even though this is the first time she hasn't complained about never being able to drive, and the first time she hasn't tried to blast EDM in the car, and the first time she hasn't purposefully locked the doors when she heard Nojiko approaching and smiled smugly while Nojiko glared menacingly at her through the window. The first time, as Nojiko's eyes flick to her for the fifth time, that her hands can't stop trembling even whilst pawing at her bangle. When she closes her eyes briefly, Nami appears calm, but as soon as they pass under a streetlight, they snap open and she flinches in her seat, as if startled.
At the next traffic light, Nojiko picks up the cup she'd placed in the centre console and proffers it in front of Nami's nose, "Here. The lady at the station insisted I take something to drink."
"Your coffee is way too bitter," Nami should have scoffed, her nose wrinkling a bit. Instead, she murmurs a "thanks" and her hands close around the beverage. By the third sip, she has yet to say another word and the trembling settles down.
Was she just cold, then? Tired? Did I read that completely wrong?
The car behind them blares its horn loudly. Quickly, Nojiko pushes her car forward, passing the green light, an irritable scowl twisting her features. The impatience of some people…
"Are you OK?"
A sidelong glance reveals a young girl curled up against the passenger seat, that orange hair mussed up at the day's end and obscuring one side of her face, wide brown eyes that haven't aged a day and hands that cradle the cup like a child. Even the question – the way she said it – took Nojiko back to the day she turned 18. When she realised she must have been sad for so long that it was unusual for Nami to see her so happy. That was also something she'd resolved would never happen again, and yet, here they were. Irritation dissolved quickly into shame once more.
"Yeah, of course I am," she murmurs.
Further conversation halts until they pull up in front of their home. Nojiko doesn't miss the sight of Nami throwing out an empty coffee cup and retreating too quickly up the stairs to fumble unsuccessfully for her key. Eventually, she gives up and steps aside for Nojiko to use the one attached to the car keys. It's a mild autumn night and inside, the apartment is still warm from having the stove switched on recently.
So, there's no reason her hands should still be shaking.
"Nami?" Nojiko calls. Her sister halts in the doorframe of her room. She's switched on the light inside and the warm tone flushes her with colour in the darkness of the hall. They meet each other's eyes.
Softer: "Are you OK?"
With a practiced smile, so polished that even Nojiko couldn't disprove its authenticity, her sister beams at her: "Of course I am."
The door shuts with a 'click' behind her, and the hallway is filled with darkness once more.
In the mornings of the days, and then weeks, that follow, Nami learns the names of the regulars at Makino's Café as she offers to serve one or two of them each morning before going to school with Luffy. By the end of the second week, she stops asking Makino at all. She simply breezes in like a regular employee, drops her bag in a seat and takes the carafe of coffee to the Mayor, who always seems to need a refill. Each time, she is reimbursed with a small pack of treats which she nibbles on on the way to school, leaving Luffy whatever remained by the time they reached the school gates. By the end of the third week, Makino starts adding an additional box to the pack of treats.
"Wait, Makino-san, what is this?"
"Luffy may have mentioned to his friends that you tend to eat instant noodles every day," Makino only giggled with a knowing, cheery smile, "One of them started dropping these off here every morning."
Of course, when Nami picked up the box, it was no mystery who the sender was.
'FOR NAMI-SWAN. LUFFY, DO NOT TOUCH. LUFFY, DO NOT EAT. (ACE, TOO).' The accompanying, cartoonish drawings made both women burst out in laughter. Nami made sure to visit Baratie as soon as she could to thank the chef personally and the next box that arrived was even more excessive, and just as delicious.
Her place as a member of Luffy's crew became a well-established fact throughout the Academy, even if Nami herself wasn't sure she'd ever truly agreed to it. With that affiliation came a mixture of responses – and not all of them positive. There were people who had it out for Luffy, and now, by extension, Nami as well since she fell under his protection, willingly or not.
"We're going up to the roof," Zoro told her each and every day, "Are you coming or not?" Most days, Nami tagged along straight away. Today, she waved them ahead, having to reclarify some points on the Maths exercise with Buggy before joining them. Although Usopp and Chopper shot wary looks at each other, Zoro shrugged and went on his way, following his captain. Reluctantly, Usopp followed him, but Chopper hesitated a moment longer.
"Um, Nami, just be care—"
"Come on, Chopper!" Zoro called, somehow his voice coming from the opposite direction that he walked. Chopper whipped his head from one side, towards the rooftop garden, to the other and his eyes bugged out, having no doubt recognised the older boy walking away from his destination.
"HOW, ZORO? USOPP!" Chopper yelled. Turning back to Nami briefly, he pled once more, "Be careful, alright?"
"Sure—?" Nami uttered but Chopper already ran off to herd back a meandering Zoro.
After finishing up with Buggy, Nami packs up her books and begins the walk over to the greenhouse. Around the second corner, a short walk away from the ladder to scale up to the roof, she is surprised to see another group of Pirates. Not in any of her classes, but she noticed them slinking around occasionally; since the looks they threw the boys' way were definitely not friendly, nor necessarily intimidated.
One of those lazy, decidedly unfriendly looks now came her way.
"What do we have here?" drawls the owner of the gaze. His tone doesn't suggest surprise at all… only anticipation.
"Someone's broken from the pack," remarks one of his friends, a tall female, "The newest stray Straw Hat's picked up."
The last sentence drives some defiance back into Nami and pushes back the momentary fear. Who do they think she is, Luffy's pet? One hip cocks out, like a finger beckoning her opponents to a challenge, but the bored scowl on Nami's face suggests they aren't even worth her time.
"Are we done here?" Nami demands. She gives them a second to respond, but when they don't, she strides forward instead, intent on passing by them and finally going to eat her delicious lunch.
She doesn't expect a hand to grab her upper arm, squeezing her bicep uncomfortably. Internally, she flinches, but she whirls immediately, glaring at whoever dares to touch her. Unlike the first two, this one doesn't lose his words. Must be the captain of this little party, or at least someone with a bit more courage.
"I'd appreciate if you didn't treat my crew so condescendingly, hm?" he says amiably, confirming her theory. The pressure he adds to his grip repeats the message with the opposite tone and Nami can't help her audible wince. She tries to turn on him, using her other hand to fight back, but he catches that wrist too, applying the same amount of pressure. He continues, "Like your whole arrogant crew, butting into other people's business, looking down on the rest of us—" Nami cries out again, her head ducking as the strength on her wrists double.
She starts seeing red, a colour she had repressed from her mind for weeks, hearing the drops of blood she'd repressed for years, and suddenly Nami feels very afraid. These people were really going to—
When the pressure releases on both hands, she is confused at the sudden reprieve, until she glances up and realises her captor's mouth is agape, uttering similar sounds she had been letting out only seconds earlier. A hand is wrapped around his neck, effectively crushing his windpipe
"Alright, I think that's just about enough," says a familiar voice beside her. The sight Nami sees when she turns is even more familiar, though the context is different.
Zoro's expression is as demonic as Arlong's when he orders the captain, "Let go."
Nami's wrist and arm are released immediately. Both are cradled to her chest, the skin looking angry and red. She is sure Zoro notices, but he doesn't say anything. His arm, however, seems to grow tenser, clear lines of muscle sticking out as his grip tightens even more.
The captain cries out again, but it's more of a wheeze.
It is only at this point that the rest of his crew are roused back to life.
"Hey!" yells one member, as defiantly as one can with a shaking voice. She starts forward, "Let go of him, Roronoa!"
The captain's fingers are clawing at Zoro's hand, still latched securely around his neck, and down his arm. Zoro doesn't even seem to notice from his lack of reaction. He looks almost bored now.
"Fine. Have him back, then," and he shoves the captain back, releasing his neck.
The woman moves quickly…
… And it is Luffy's voice that yells, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
It is Luffy's fist that buries into the captain, sending him hurtling back into his crew and knocking them all to the ground, including the female crewmember who'd started forward. From her hand, Nami notices a glint of silver. A knife buries into the ground not far from them all.
She glances towards Zoro, who also notices the item with a scowl. Was she going to—?
"Hey, are you OK?" Luffy asks her. His gaze drifts to Zoro, too, but confirming he is unharmed, his attention returns solely to her, "Did they hurt you?"
"I'm fine," she replies, but she doesn't withdraw her arms quickly enough to hide from his eyes.
"I'll get Chopper to have a look," Luffy promises. He glares once more at the crew on the ground, but ushers Nami away without another word, Zoro following in their wake.
Thank you. Say it. Say it.
The words don't make it past her lips. Instead, when she doesn't hear the sound of his footsteps anymore, she shouts, "This way, Zoro!"
"Damn it!" his voice curses somewhere in the distance. Luffy stifles his laughter. Soon, they reach the ladder to get to the roof, Luffy clambering up first and waiting patiently for her at the top.
"Come on, you have to get up before Zoro arrives," Luffy calls.
Nami rolls her eyes at him, tempted to quip "we have a whole hour, then." But she can't bring herself to tease Zoro further at the moment. Even if he probably ended up in the library by now and wouldn't hear her, anyway.
She focuses on the task before her, though her arms still feel tender. The true pain hasn't settled in yet, so she scales to the top fairly easily. That knowledge only makes her dread tomorrow, when it's sure to hurt so much worse.
Luffy lets her go across the roof first. She is getting more comfortable walking across the glass for a greater distance now, but somehow the feel of Luffy's steady hand on her shoulder or hovering over the small of her back is a support she is not willing to relinquish just yet.
So, it feels cold when Luffy withdraws the hand on her shoulder once they pass the two-thirds mark. She yelps a little out of surprise, but otherwise retains her balance.
"Luffy!" she complains at the same time he blurts, "Sorry! I didn't realise… does it hurt? Your arm, I mean."
Oh. He isn't messing with her.
He's afraid of hurting her.
"No," Nami utters, and talks quickly to cover the shaky word, "No, no, it doesn't hurt at all. Sorry. I should be the one apologising."
Silence. The inability to say those words of apology that caused them so much frustration and anger mere weeks ago just passed between them in seconds.
So, what are we now? She can't see his face, being too afraid to turn for fear of losing her balance, yet Nami wonders if Luffy is thinking of the same thing. Then again, he'd already been convinced of what they were when they first met.
Either we're friends or not friends. That's simpler.
"It'll hurt a lot tomorrow then," Luffy suddenly contributes, "When I fought with my brothers when I was younger, I wouldn't feel any pain straight after sometimes but the next day…" he makes a sound akin to a shudder.
"If you need any help with anything, just ask Chopper. He's a good doctor," Luffy finishes with a voice of supreme confidence, "He's always helping Zoro since he's useless at that stuff."
"As if you're one to talk!" bellows a voice behind them, causing Nami to shriek and Luffy to turn with a curious grunt, his hand automatically righting Nami's flailing body.
"Oh, Zoro, when did you find us?"
"You dolt! I could have died!" Nami shouts, though she is still facing forward, unable to summon the courage to turn around to yell at him properly.
"Who're you calling a dolt? Why don't you hustle and stop holding up the rest of us then!" Zoro yells right back.
The rest of the trip to the garden is spent with similar bickering, and Luffy as the lazy mediator, before finally being broken up by Chopper. He steers Nami off to examine her possible injuries at Luffy's request. Luffy and Zoro flop down once more by their box garden, alternatively laying in comfort and speaking in short, animated conversation. Usopp is nowhere to be seen.
"Timber shed," Chopper answers when Nami asks about the latter, "He's usually got a project he works on down there."
Proceeding briskly with the exam, he concludes, "There'll be bruises and the affected areas are going to be tender for a couple of days but there's no other injuries. I can get you an ice pack for now." Nami nods.
As he rummages through his kit, Nami glances over at the duo. Zoro is quiet, leaned back with his eyes shut, though she can tell he isn't asleep yet. Luffy is unusually quiet, rolled out on his stomach beside him and tracking different insects. A quiet companionship lingers between them, a mutual comfort in the other's presence. Eventually, Chopper successfully retrieves the pack for Nami and calls Zoro over to be examined. Luffy waves off a similar offer and flops back down to the ground, so Nami makes her way over there first.
She sits down in the place Zoro just vacated and unpacks her lunch. Immediately, Luffy's head jerks up at the scent but, obviously having been warned explicitly by the chef, he pouts and recommences his little activities. Their silence isn't exactly as companionable, nor mellow, as what Nami sensed previously with Zoro; and Luffy doesn't seem to want to break it either.
Say thank you. Say thank you.
"How did you two know?" she mumbles, a mixture of uncertainty and the residue of a rich sauce in her throat making her voice croaky. She clears it once, and tries again, "To find me. How did you know?"
The answer, unexpectedly, comes from Zoro who partly turns from Chopper and spouts, "Does it matter? The important thing is that we did. Honestly, shouldn't you of all people be able to take care of a couple of idiots like that?"
Nami bristles and retorts, "Are you trying to blame me for someone grabbing me—"
"Ignore him, he's just mad because someone could sneak a knife in here and he can't," Luffy states matter-of-factly.
"Shut up, Luffy!" Zoro snaps.
"A knife?" Chopper questions; curious, but not at all surprised, "Zoro, are these wounds—?"
"They're just scratches. I was holding a guy by the throat, he clawed at my arm." Blasé.
"Zoro!" the little doctor scolds.
"Well, what do you expect me to do? First, that stupid cook had to go and graduate and then I'm banned from bringing my swords to school! But those little bastards can still weasel in their knives—!"
"What is he talking about?" Nami hisses to Luffy. He blinks at her.
"Zoro's a swordsman," he states, as if that explains everything. At her look, he elaborates, "I mean, Zoro can throw a punch and defend himself fine, but he's strongest with his weapons. But he's banned from bringing them to school. Without them, he can't fight with his body as well as Sanji and I can, so that's why he gets injured."
Unspoken, but conveyed in his amused gaze: and why I have to fight hard on his behalf.
Perhaps, the way he fought; the true anger behind his usual upbeat expression and malice in his voice… was that for Zoro, then? She finds it hard to remove the quietly brimming joy attached to his actions – the relief, yes, of having a threat removed from her; but also… the relief of having someone on her side again, of having someone who could fight for her…
… And win.
Too many times in her life, Nami had seen people fight for her and lose, so seeing Luffy challenge someone so boldly and win so decisively made old feelings rise to the surface again – awe at another person's strength and the warmth of feeling safe and protected.
Maybe that was unintentional, and in all likelihood, it was Zoro Luffy fought first to protect and Nami was second. But that didn't negate that his actions had, for a fragment of a moment, made her feel safe; and she was grateful for that. Does she owe him something then? Now? In future?
Nami decides she'd rather not digest all of that today. In fact, when she becomes consciously aware of the action of eating once more, she finds she will be digesting all but one thing. At this, she smiles. When did her subconscious mind start doing these things without her consent?
"Hey," she says and proffers the box to Luffy, "Here, this is yours."
And she watches with quiet contentment as the boy inhales the remainders of the box with much louder delight – the roast meat: his favourite.
Thank you. Thank you.
She doesn't expect him to proffer it back to her so quickly – even for Luffy, this was record time—
"Last one's for you," he grins. As if Nami needs more proof of his intent (which she does, Luffy never gives up food after all), he adds, "It's yours, take it."
It's as if he could understand what her actions truly meant, for his eyes seem to reply in kind: don't worry about it.
"Eat it all, OK?" he says cheerfully, placing the box between them, "I wanna go see Usopp in the workshop. Chopper, wanna come?"
"Yeah, I'm just finishing up!" comes the reply, "Wait for me!"
"Nah, you'll have to catch up!"
"Luffy! Wait! Wait, I said!"
Their voices become quieter and quieter as Luffy dashes off first, Chopper following in hot pursuit. Everyday shenanigans with this crew.
But as Nami reaches out to take the box, she misses Zoro's hand coming down and flipping the extra piece of meat into his own mouth in one smooth motion. Chewing it thoughtfully as he lays back down, grumbling slightly at the pressure it must put on his wounds, Zoro mutters, "Curly Cook hasn't lost his touch at least." As he swallows, he opens his eye again and watches Nami critically, "You're awfully quiet. Not going to yell at me for stealing your food?"
"Nope," she answers simply. She owed this man too.
Zoro blinks; and if Nami didn't know better, she would even say he looks surprised. However, it's gone a second later and his face screws up tightly with his permanent sour look, "Don't be nice. It's creepy coming from you."
Well then.
"You'll pay me back. With interest," Nami snaps, snatching the box back to her and noisily resealing the lid, "Asshole."
"Yeah, yeah," Zoro replies, his words mingling with a yawn as he leans back against the cement block. There's no mistaking the smile that turns his mouth up at the corners though, even if just slightly.
They lapse into the mellow silence – again, not quite as nice as the one between him and Luffy, but one that is familiar enough to them. Comfortable enough that soon Zoro sleeps soundly like every other day in Biology, trusting Nami implicitly to wake him when it's time to go.