The wind whipped past Nami's face, and her scream was lost to the endless blue skies as she tumbled through the air. Her soaked and heavy satchel clung precariously to her shoulder. With every wild spin, her mind raced, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"Somebody help me!" she shrieked, barely able to hear her voice. "Monkey King, Luffy, anyone! I'm too young to die!"

As she plummeted, the wind blurred the world around her into streaks of blue and gold. Then, she saw it: a shadow against the sun, growing larger, closer, sharper. Her breath caught as she made out massive, jagged wings, the sun glinting off a figure clad in green and gold. It wasn't the Monkey King. This being felt different—darker, heavier, and more dangerous.

Her eyes widened in horror as the figure's golden skin and emerald-green hair came into focus. The figure moved with terrifying precision, and its glowing red eyes locked onto her like a predator zeroing in on its prey.

"Oh no," she whispered, dread thick in her voice. "This can't be good."

With a swift, sudden motion, the figure dove toward her. Before she could react, she was yanked out of freefall, strong arms cradling her effortlessly. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, but it wasn't rough—more like a predator capturing its prey with care.

Her vision steadied as she found herself staring at a god dressed like a demon. His molten-gold skin shimmered under the sun, and every detail of his angular, otherworldly face was as sharp and striking as a sculpture brought to life. His flowing green hair whipped around his face like wild flames, untamed and vivid. His red eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of time and space, assessing, measuring, and judging.

Nami froze, unable to look away. He was… monstrous, terrifying, and yet she couldn't deny his beauty—an untouchable, dangerous allure.

"T-thank you," she began, but her voice caught in her throat as his crimson gaze flicked to hers. He wasn't seeking gratitude; he was sizing her up, his sharp jaw tight with irritation. His massive, claw-like wings shifted behind him, with jagged edges that shimmered like molten gold.

The sight of him—his monstrous wings, glowing skin, and burning gaze—overwhelmed her. Panic surged through her chest, and before she could stop herself, she screamed.

A shockwave erupted from her body, a burst of energy she didn't know she possessed. The force knocked him off balance, his grip slipping as they spiraled downward. With a deafening crash, they hit the water below, sending waves cascading in every direction.

Nami crawled to the shoreline, her drenched clothes clinging to her skin. She gasped for air, her chest heaving as she glanced behind her. Nami's breath hitched as the surface of the lake rippled, her wide eyes fixed on the figure rising from its depths. First came the glow—an unearthly golden light that shimmered like molten sunlight beneath the cascading water. Then, as the figure emerged fully, she realized with both awe and unease that this was no mere man.

The water poured off his towering frame, glinting as it slid down his molten-gold skin. Every inch of him was sculpted, impossibly perfect, with a strength that seemed carved from some celestial force. His broad shoulders rose above the water first, followed by his chest, which bore intricate, spiraling markings that pulsed faintly with an otherworldly glow. The patterns seemed alive, moving subtly in rhythm with his breaths, as though they weren't just etched into his skin but fused into the very essence of his being.

Her gaze lingered on his face, and despite herself, she couldn't look away. His sharp, angular features were striking—terrifying, but in a way that left her breathless. His wild green hair still held movement as it clung to his face and body, dripping with water, framing his sharp jawline and slightly pointed ears with their dangling gold earrings. His eyes, however, held her captive. They burned like molten fire streaked with green and gold, piercing through her with a predatory intensity that made her pulse quicken. There was a weight in those eyes, a silent threat that demanded submission, and yet they weren't entirely inhuman. Beneath the glowing, otherworldly fire, there was something… raw. Something restrained.

As he stepped forward, the water rippling around his waist, her focus shifted to his wings. They were massive, jagged things, grotesque yet strangely beautiful, with dark, golden veins running through them like molten fire. The way they flexed and moved felt unnatural, yet their motion was elegant—a precision that matched his deliberate movements. When the wings folded into his back with an eerie, seamless motion, she found herself flinching as though she'd witnessed something that should have been impossible.

Her attention fell to his hands as they emerged from the water. Clawed, golden, and sharp, they flexed with a casualness that sent a shiver down her spine. Those claws weren't just for show—they could tear through flesh, steel, or anything else that stood in his way. She did not doubt that.

And yet, for all the monstrous elements that defined him, there was something profoundly human about the way he moved. His bare feet splashed softly in the shallows as he waded closer, his posture upright and unyielding. The green overcoat tied at his waist swayed with each step, its tattered edges a stark contrast to the pristine glow of his skin. The crimson sash cinched around his hips added boldness to his appearance, the color striking against the deep greens and golds of his form.

Nami's mind raced as she tried to piece him together. He wasn't like the demons she had read about in Belle-mère's old books—mindless, ravenous creatures driven by destruction. No, this was something entirely different. He moved with purpose, his presence radiating control, power, and a terrifying self-awareness. He wasn't a beast; he was something far more dangerous.

Her gaze darted to the swords at his side. Three blades, each one humming faintly with energy, as though they too were alive. One, in a pristine white sheath, glowed faintly, exuding a quiet, commanding aura. Another, sheathed in crimson, seemed to pulse with malice, its energy dark and foreboding. The third, darker and subtler in design, carried an air of quiet lethality. She could feel the weight of their presence even from where she stood, and she couldn't help but wonder what kind of power they held—and what kind of destruction they could unleash in his hands.

As he stepped onto the shore, the sunlight caught his molten-gold skin, making him glow like a living flame. His broad shoulders flexed as he adjusted the green overcoat, draping it over himself to obscure the jagged wings now hidden within his back. The motion was strangely deliberate, almost as if he were trying to shield her from the full force of his presence.

For a moment, Nami thought she saw something flicker across his expression—a shadow of restraint, maybe even fatigue. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the stoic, unreadable mask he seemed to wear naturally.

Her heart pounded as he turned those piercing red eyes on her. He was impossibly tall, and his presence was so overwhelming that it seemed to fill the entire clearing. And yet, as much as her instincts screamed at her to run, she didn't—she couldn't.

Because, beneath all the fear and awe, there was something else.

Curiosity.

Who—what—was this man? Demon? Monster?

The silence between them stretched as she tried to steady her breath, her mind scrambling for words. Finally, she managed, "W-what… what are you?"

Nami barely had time to process the question she had asked—What are you?—before the golden figure stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. His molten gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch.

For all the monstrous power he radiated, his movements were calm, an unsettling stillness that felt like the eye of a storm. His crimson eyes locked onto hers briefly, unreadable yet piercing, before drifting lower. She froze under his scrutiny, her pulse quickening as his gaze traveled down her body—not in the leering way of a predator but as if he were studying her, cataloging every detail.

Then his attention stopped at her foot.

"You're injured," he muttered, his voice low and rough like distant thunder.

Nami blinked, startled. She hadn't even noticed the dull ache in her ankle until now. "It's nothing," she said quickly, instinctively brushing it off.

But Zoro didn't seem to hear her—or he didn't care. Before she could protest, he knelt before her, his massive frame folding gracefully despite his size. The sudden closeness left her breathless. She could see the faint glow of his skin, the subtle shifting of the patterns etched into his chest, and for a moment, she was struck by how… alive he seemed.

"Wait—what are you doing?" she stammered, her voice unsteady.

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for her foot with a hand so large it nearly enveloped her ankle. His golden claws hovered just above her skin, sharp and deadly, yet they didn't so much as graze her. She tensed, her heart hammering in her chest as she watched him work, his focus entirely on the swelling that had already begun to form.

"It's sprained," he said, his tone matter-of-fact, as if her injury were the only thing in the world that mattered at that moment.

She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him to back off, but the words caught in her throat when he leaned closer. His breath was warm against her skin, and she swore she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"Hold still," he said, his voice softer now, almost… gentle.

Nami's body stiffened as he brought his lips close to her ankle, his movements so deliberate and intimate that her cheeks flushed without her permission. Then he exhaled—a slow, cool breath that sent a wave of relief washing over her. The ache in her ankle ebbed almost instantly, the swelling retreating—soothed by magic.

Her breath hitched again, her mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. His proximity was overwhelming, the golden glow of his skin casting faint reflections on her own. She should have been pushing him away, should have been demanding answers, but instead, she found herself frozen, staring at the way his sharp green hair framed his face, at the intensity of his crimson eyes as they flicked back up to meet hers.

For a moment, they looked at each other, the world around them falling away. There was something in his gaze—something unspoken, as if he were searching for something in her face, something he couldn't quite name.

"You didn't have to do that," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched almost imperceptibly. Was that a smile? Her gaze fell to his clawed hands as he reached for her satchel, water dripping from his golden skin. He lifted it effortlessly and held it out to her. "You dropped this," he said.

Nami snatched the bag from his hand, her fingers brushing against his warm, shimmering skin. She flinched at the contact, her pulse quickening. "Th-thanks," she mumbled, clutching the satchel to her chest.

He turned without another word, his broad shoulders flexing as he adjusted the crimson sash at his waist. His presence was magnetic, his sheer size and power commanding the space around him.

As he walked ahead, Nami's gaze lingered on the spiraling patterns etched into his golden skin, faintly glowing like veins filled with molten fire. For a moment, she wondered what kind of power lay beneath that golden exterior—and if she could survive whatever storm he carried with him.

He smirked faintly, his sharp teeth glinting in the light. "Hurry up, witch. I don't babysit slowpokes."

Nami glared at him, her cheeks flushing with anger. "I'm not a witch, you golden brute!"

His low, gravelly chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. "You're loud," he muttered, straightening to his full height.

Her cheeks burned, the spell of the moment breaking as her indignation flared. "Loud?! I wasn't even—"

"You're welcome," he interrupted, turning his back to her as he adjusted the green overcoat draped over his broad shoulders. His wings had disappeared, hidden seamlessly beneath the fabric, but the memory of them lingered in her mind.

Nami glared at him, her frustration bubbling up. "You could've just said you were helping! Instead of acting like some… some—"

"Some what?" he asked, glancing back over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, the faintest hint of amusement glinting in his eyes.

She faltered, her words dying on her tongue as she caught his expression. There was something about the way he looked at her now, something softer and quieter than his earlier, predatory stare. It wasn't quite a kindness, but it wasn't cold, either.

"I—never mind," she mumbled, pulling her satchel closer to her chest.

He let out a low hum, almost like a laugh, before turning fully toward the forest. "Let's go."

"Go where?" she called after him, her irritation rising again.

"North," he said, not bothering to look back.

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at the sun, already low on the horizon. "But you're heading south."

He stopped in his tracks, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned to face her, his red eyes narrowing in a way that made her feel both triumphant and slightly afraid.

"…No, I'm not," he said, his tone flat.

"Yes, you are," she shot back, crossing her arms.

He grunted, clearly annoyed. "Does it matter?"

"Yes!" she snapped. "I'm not wandering through a forest just because you can't navigate! You could've at least told me the plan instead of—"

He cut her off with a sharp look, the faint glow of his eyes silencing her for a moment. Then, to her surprise, his expression softened—just barely.

"You talk too much," he muttered, but there was no malice in his tone.

Nami huffed as she rose, dusting herself off as she marched ahead of him. "And you're impossible."

She didn't see the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth as he followed behind her, his footsteps quiet and deliberate.

Nami mumbled to herself as she led the way. "I'm loud? You're the one who looks like—like that!" She gestured wildly around, her voice rising in pitch.

He tilted his head, his green hair falling into his face as his lips curled faintly. Was that a smirk? "If you're done yelling, then lead the way, woman. I don't have all day."

"You don't have all day?!" Nami shouted, spinning to look at him. "You just dropped me into a lake! And now you're giving orders like it's my fault?!"

When she spun on her heel, her shoulder bumped against something unyielding—his chest. She froze, her words catching in her throat as she realized just how close they were. His golden skin glimmered faintly in the setting sun, and the faint scent of smoke clung to him, sharp and earthy.

"Careful," he muttered, his hand catching her arm before she could stumble.

Nami blinked, her blush deepening as she hastily pulled away, her words a jumble. "I—I'm fine! You—you're just—too close!"

His crimson eyes flicked down to her with an unreadable expression. "Am I?"

Zoro leaned in closer, his crimson gaze piercing through her as though he could see right into her soul. She felt her heart skip a beat, her pulse racing as the heat from his body surrounded her.

"You're wet," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Nami's breath caught, her face heating. "W-what?"

He raised an eyebrow, his clawed hand brushing the damp fabric of her dress at her shoulder where the sleeves cut off - out of wear and tear. "Your clothes," he clarified, his tone maddeningly casual. "You're cold."

"I'm fine!" she blurted, stepping back hastily—only to trip on a rock. Before she could hit the ground, his hand caught her waist effortlessly, pulling her upright.

"You're not wet," she mumbled.

"What?"

She cleared her throat as she stepped back, "You're not wet...how..."

He shrugged, "Just how my body is."

"Right," she said absentmindedly as she stared at the body he so casually mentioned.

"But you are," he said as he leaned in.

The blush was back. "W-what?"

"Wet."

Suddenly, the word seemed to have a different meaning. Her cheeks burned as she felt his fingers tighten around her waist, steady and secure. The intensity of his gaze was too much—too close, too overwhelming. Panic and frustration surged in her chest, mixing with something else she couldn't name.

Without warning, a wild surge of energy erupted from Nami's body. It wasn't intentional—she didn't even know where it came from. The shockwave hit Zoro with the force of a gale, sending him crashing through the clearing. He tumbled into a cluster of trees, the splintering wood echoing through the air.

Nami gasped, staring at her hands in disbelief. "I—didn't mean to—"

Zoro groaned as he picked himself up, dusting off leaves and broken branches. His golden skin shimmered as though untouched by the impact. "So much for gratitude," he muttered, his crimson eyes narrowing as he looked back at her.

But before he could say anything else, she swayed on her feet, exhaustion overtaking her. She crumpled, but he moved quickly enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

Zoro sighed as he leaned her against a tree in a soft patch of grass and went to work gathering all the trees he had—well, she had destroyed, by flinging his body half across the clearing.

Eventually, Zoro leaned back against a tree, his crimson eyes watching the unconscious woman curled up near the fire. He had placed her there to dry off, but now she looked like a little ginger kitten. The flames danced across her face, softening her sharp features. For all her bluster, something was compelling about her—a spark of stubbornness, strength, and something he couldn't quite name.

He smirked to himself, running a hand through his dried hair. "At least she's strong," he muttered, his gaze lifting to the stars above. The faint scent of mikan lingered in the air, stirring a memory that refused to surface fully. He shook his head, dismissing it, as his eyes flicked back to the fire…and her.