Nami stirred awake, her back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree. The faint, early rays of sunlight warmed her face, and she shifted slightly, feeling something heavy draped over her shoulders. Blinking, she realized it was his green overcoat.

She pulled it tighter, inhaling the faint scent clinging to it—something sharp, like steel, mixed with the subtle warmth of sun-baked earth. Her lips quirked into a small, involuntary smile.

Wait…

Her smile faltered as she realized something: If she was wearing his coat, what was he wearing?

Her heart skipped a beat. "No. No, Nami, don't think about it. He's a monster—a shirtless, scarred, unnaturally handsome monster." She groaned, burying her face in her hands as if that would stop her thoughts from spiraling.

A soft thud snapped her from her embarrassment. She looked up just as Zoro landed in front of her, his wings folding seamlessly into his back. He tossed a bundle of fabric at her feet, his expression unreadable.

"Here," he said gruffly. "Your clothes are useless. Change."

Nami leaned forward to pick up the bundle, murmuring a soft "thanks," but the word stuck in her throat the moment she registered him fully.

Zoro was standing in front of her, shirtless—and pantless.

Her eyes widened, involuntarily scanning downward. His crimson gaze, piercing and detached, didn't seem to register her reaction, but she couldn't look away. His broad chest gleamed faintly in the soft light, each muscle sharply defined beneath molten-gold skin. The intricate swirling gold markings etched into his flesh seemed to move subtly, alive with some unseen force.

But her gaze didn't stop there.

He wore nothing but his crimson sash, tied low and haphazardly around his hips, barely covering him. He'd clearly adjusted it with some care—just enough to maintain his modesty—but the long sash hung low, emphasizing the sharp cut of his hips.

Her cheeks burned as her mind unhelpfully pointed out the sheer length of the sash. But then her attention shifted to the scars.

A jagged, diagonal scar slashed across his torso, running from his left shoulder to his right hip. It was deep and angry-looking, even in the glow of his golden skin. Her eyes drifted lower to the faint, circular scars on his ankles. They weren't large, but their placement told a brutal story. Nami's chest tightened as she remembered that he said he was tied to the Treasure Tree Adam when Luffy found him. Legends told of warriors who were tied to its roots, their bodies marked with scars as the tree slowly consumed their strength and will. Who would have cursed him like that?

She couldn't stop herself from imagining it—the jagged diagonal scar across his torso wasn't just a wound; it was a story. Had it been the roots of the Treasure Tree Adam, digging into his flesh as they drained his strength? Or was it a blade wielded by someone who wanted to see him fall? The idea sent a pang of something strange through her—anger, sorrow, maybe even guilt for wondering at all.

Her fingers curled into the overcoat draped over her shoulders as her gaze lingered on another scar near his ribs, half-hidden by the swirling gold designs. It was jagged, as if left by something crude and merciless—like someone had carved into him to watch him bleed.

How many battles has he fought? she wondered, her awe tinged with sorrow. The scars told of a life forged in violence, each mark a reminder of pain endured and battles survived. But they also told a story of strength—of someone who refused to give in, no matter how many times they were broken.

"Are you done staring, or should I give you more time?"

Zoro's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone dry but laced with faint amusement.

Nami jolted, her face flushing. "I wasn't staring!" she snapped, clutching the bundle of clothes to her chest.

"Right," he said, adjusting his sash slightly—just enough to pull her attention back down before she tore her eyes away.

"Huge- I mean, YOU can have your clothes back," she said with a fluster as she tossed him his jacket. "I'm going to wash up!" She peeked over her shoulder only to get a cheeky smirk. "And-and YOU'D better put something on before I get back!"

As she stomped toward the waterfall, Zoro smirked faintly and shook his head. He watched her retreat, the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance.

With a sigh, he leaned back against the tree, folding his arms across his chest. His crimson eyes flicked toward the horizon, but his thoughts lingered on her.

Nami dipped her toes into the cool water, the chill drawing a soft gasp from her lips. The waterfall's roar was soothing, its constant rhythm muffling the distant noises of the forest. She stepped further in, releasing herself of her tattered dress.

She let out a deep breath and sank into the pool until the water reached her shoulders. The aches in her body from days of travel began to melt away, replaced by the refreshing embrace of the cold. She tilted her head back, letting droplets from the waterfall mist her face and dampen her fiery orange hair.

It was rare to find such a moment of peace, and Nami allowed herself to savor it. Her fingers brushed over her arms, scrubbing away the grime of the journey while her mind wandered. Thoughts of her sister, her mission, and Zoro's cryptic presence swirled in her head.

For once, she tried not to think too hard. Just a few minutes, she told herself—a few minutes to breathe.

But the sense of calm didn't last.

As she ran her fingers through her hair, a prickling sensation crawled up the back of her neck. Her instincts flared, an unshakable feeling that she wasn't alone.

Nami stilled, her gaze darting toward the tree line. The sunlight dappled the forest floor, but the shadows beneath the canopy seemed darker than they had before. Her heartbeat quickened.

"Zoro?" she called out, her voice steady despite the unease that gripped her.

There was no reply—only the sound of the waterfall and the distant rustling of leaves.

She swallowed hard, brushing the thought aside. Maybe it was just her imagination.

But it wasn't.

From the shadows, unseen, a pair of eyes watched her every move.

The watcher stayed hidden, his breath slow and measured as he observed the woman in the water. She was mesmerizing, especially to him. The way the sunlight caught her damp hair, the droplets gliding over her skin, the defiant strength in the set of her shoulders—it was as if she belonged to a different world entirely.

She looked like a painting brought to life, a subject crafted with care and detail. Each movement she made, each ripple she caused in the water, drew him in further.

He crouched lower, his body blending with the shadows. He hadn't planned on finding her here, hadn't expected such a prize to wander into his territory when he sought after the thief who broke into his palace. But now that she was here, he couldn't let her go. He noticed the clothes she placed by the edge and drew a vicious grin. Licking his lips, this was perfect. She was going to be his reward by paying the price for her thievery. To think such a delectable creature had come into his home and gotten away...

Her every movement seemed calculated to ensnare him. He knew it wasn't intentional—how could she possibly understand the effect she had? But the sunlight that caught the fiery strands of her hair, the defiance in her posture, and the subtle vulnerability in her searching eyes made him sure of one thing: she wasn't just a prize—she was perfection.

The bells tied to his wrist jingled softly as he shifted his weight. The sound was faint, nearly swallowed by the waterfall. Or so he thought.

She tilted her head, brushing droplets from her face, unaware that every ripple she caused in the water seemed to mesmerize the shadow that watched from beyond the trees. It was only when the faint jingle of bells broke through the waterfall's roar that she stiffened, her instincts screaming a warning she couldn't quite place.

Her head turned sharply toward his hiding spot, her amber eyes narrowing. She sensed him.

A smile crept across his face, sharp and predatory.

Nami's gaze swept over the tree line, her pulse racing. The air felt thick now, heavy with an energy she couldn't explain. She clenched her fists, her fingers trembling slightly.

"I know you're there," she said, her voice firmer this time. She knew it wasn't Zoro. His aura was warm and strong, but this felt like death—a death that wanted to consume her.

Nothing.

Then, a branch snapped behind her.

She spun around, water splashing around her as she faced the sound. Her heart pounded, but there was nothing there—just the waterfall and the rippling pool.

"I don't have time for games," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

And then, she felt it.

Something wet and slimy dragged across her cheek.

She tried to scream, stumbling backward. But before she could manage a sound, a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries.

The watcher moved with speed, his invisible form wrapping around her like a net. Her struggling only made him more eager, more confident that she was what he sought.

"You will be our bride," he purred, his breath hot against her ear.

His other hand slid down her arm, holding her in place as she thrashed. Her muffled cries were music to his ears, a prelude to the ceremony that awaited her.

She tried to summon her strength to fight back, but something about his touch drained her. The energy left her body, and her vision blurred as darkness began to creep in at the edges.

Her legs kicked frantically as the slimy grip tightened around her mouth and arms, sending icy splashes into the air with every thrash. She clawed at the invisible force, her nails finding nothing but space, and for the first time since her journey began, the thought hit her like a blow: she was going to fail.

"No…" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she felt herself slipping away.

The last thing she saw before the world faded to black was the gleam of the bells on his wrist as he hoisted her over his shoulder.

Zoro sat by the edge of the clearing, his back against a tree, waiting for her to return. His eyes were half-closed, but his senses were sharp, attuned to the slightest disturbance in the air.

He sniffed the air again, his chest tightening. The faint sweetness of mikans that had always lingered around her was gone, replaced by something rancid—something that made his teeth grit and his claws flex involuntarily. The faint jingle of bells reached his ears, and his wings unfurled instinctively, their jagged edges catching the morning light.

"Nami?" he called, his voice low but commanding.

No response.

He rushed to the water where they had first landed and noticed the clothes he had given her left on the shore. However, what sickened him was the tattered dress she was wearing. It floated in the water, the only remnants of her scent now that the disgusting aura of decay poured over everything.

His mind raced as he launched into the air, his wings beating furiously. She was a task that Luffy had assigned him- because he couldn't take the Devil Fruit himself. That was all. But the thought of her being taken, of that scent fading forever, made his chest burn in a way he couldn't name.

The castle loomed on the horizon, its dark spires piercing the mist like jagged teeth. The bells grew louder with every beat of his wings, each chime echoing in his chest like a challenge. His grip tightened on his swords, and for the first time in years, he felt it—a dangerous, unrelenting need to destroy.

"That's where you took her," he muttered, his voice a low growl.

With a burst of speed, Zoro shot toward the castle, his heart pounding with an unfamiliar urgency.

He didn't know why he felt this way. He only knew one thing: Whoever had taken her was about to regret it.