Before I start, I would like to thank to:
Nami4Life, who leaves so many comments and encourages me so much to keep going.
Sensua e, who got excited about Garp's entrance. I'm sorry that your wish hasn't been fulfilled yet, but it's not the right time.
Absolutelyfabulouslyobsessed, for the lovely words you said about this little fanfic.
And to everyone who has been commenting on the fanfic from the beginning, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of you, but I'm starting to respond, and I wish I could because I'm grateful to each and every one of you for every little or big comment you leave 3
And now, here it is:
Chapter 17
Against the Wind
Nami didn't usually think much about Arlong's mark, or at least that's what she told herself every night when she forced her mind to wander elsewhere. Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning when she struggled to breathe while thinking about the future, she would wake up with the sensation of an open wound on her shoulder, a wound that one day would leave her bleeding out on the ground, surrounded by a pool of resentment, fear, and hatred.
She had dreamed for so many nights about the unpleasant sensation of the ink devouring her from the inside that she had long since stopped counting the nightmares. It was the evidence of Arlong's power over her, the ultimate betrayal of her mother's memory, the barrier that would always separate her from her sister, Genzo, and all the villagers. It was proof that, in the end, she would always have a stain on her soul.
Nami had often thought about taking a knife and cutting her skin off until the ink forgot her. When she left the island for long trips, she would sometimes scratch her shoulder until she felt the blood drip and close her eyes, dreaming that the sticky liquid was black instead of red. Even so, she would often find solace in the tattoo's reflection in calm water because, when it was hard for her to return to where fear nested, to Arlong's claws, the image of the black ink reminded her of the invisible chain around her neck, and only then would she force herself to sail against the wind.
She always knew that the day would come when she would tear it off. A distant and merciful future, when her debt was paid. The problem, she realized on Dawn Island, was that her shoulder had begun to weigh her down, and it became increasingly difficult for her to lift it without feeling the ink, sticky and corrosive, eating away at her from inside.
Every time Luffy hugged her or played with her, even when Ace prodded her with words full of concern, her arm's nerves went numb, and her fingers tingled.
Ace and Luffy, who had already glimpsed parts of her story through her welts and distrust, remained so silent that the moonlight must have hesitated to fall on them, so similar to ghosts and as hard as rocks. Their grandfather, on the other hand, began to grow and grow until, at a certain point, he threw patience out the door and filled the room with rage. Her voice faltered, and her eyes fell straight to the ground when she remembered that day when her mother's name became synonymous with massacre.
Garp squeezed her so tightly that maybe a lone tear escaped.
That early morning, when Garp finally released her and sent her and Luffy to bed, with a dry, pasty mouth, freed from the weight of her story, which still ran through the wooden veins of the marine's little house, her shoulder didn't hurt, it burned. It burned like her eyes, swollen from holding back the tears, and like her throat, exhausted from recounting a story that had remained covered for so many years under a layer of secrecy, fear, and death.
When she got into bed, Luffy wrapped around her like a lock around a treasure. Nami sensed it was the fear that she might run away, that constant flight she always had tied to her feet.
Downstairs, Garp's deep voice danced syllable by syllable with Ace's in a conversation Nami couldn't make out through her grogginess but felt in the way the glass of a painting full of ships and anchors, covered in pirate flag drawings, vibrated.
Luffy's hand on her inked shoulder made her squirm in that tight embrace. Apparently, the boy had said something in a voice so low that her tired ears had completely missed it.
"What?"
"Do you still want to leave?"
The question touched on those secrets that now surrounded the house. No longer as secret, no longer as heavy. But just as painful as when they were first created.
"If you knew everything I've done, you wouldn't want me to stay with you."
"You're not bad."
She sighed and focused her gaze on the glass's reflection that moved with the vibration of the conversation below.
"Good people don't kill."
Luffy closed his mouth for two seconds, but he didn't let go before diving into the depths of a past from which Nami only knew how to run.
"Have you killed, Nami?"
The ink that lived under her shoulder squirmed under the weight of the memories as she gave voice, between whispers and sorrow, to a sea of regrets.
She remembered her mother, the warm blood, the cold eyes.
She remembered a woman whose hands were still tangled in a pearl necklace.
She remembered that boy she had tried to help escape and whose ghost still haunted her on the nights when the unfortunate came to Arlong Park's gates for a bit of revenge.
She remembered the first slaughter she attended with the crew.
And as she remembered, her fingers became sticky, bloodied.
Her tongue stung when she bit it, aware that she was a coward who didn't want to lose Luffy under the weight of those sins. She nodded with her aching shoulder and her head down, refusing to cry because a sinner didn't deserve compassion, didn't deserve pity.
"Shanks lost an arm for me, you know? A Sea King ate it whole."
The statement caught Nami by surprise, unable to articulate a response to that blood-filled memory that didn't belong to the circle of her sins.
"The truth is, I think you're like him, but you've lost so many arms that the monster has eaten you whole, and since you're inside its enormous belly, you can't see well; you're a caterpillar. Sacrificing yourself for friends isn't bad. Shanks did it for me, and your mother did it for your sister and you. But you need help because your Sea King is very big, and hey, don't worry! It's okay because we're here. There's me, and there's Ace, and although he's scary, Grandpa's also here. Soon, you'll be a beetle; you'll see."
Luffy put his sentences together, mixing up ideas, but she liked the way he seemed to build and dismantle words while he spoke because he did it with care and honesty. With that magic that only lived on the lips of someone who has never stopped dreaming.
"Thank you," she whispered warmly, her eyes still wet, but her heart a bit warmer.
The boy laughed, already rocked in the promise of a world far from everyday problems, and the ink under her veins curled up, still guilty but a little fresher. Before she slipped fully into unconsciousness, she felt like a large, wrinkled hand was stroking her head, and Nami allowed herself to dream of a life surrounded by windmills, tangerines, fights, and dirt.
A pleasant dream to cling to while asleep, even as she denied it to herself when she opened her eyes. Because until everything was securely in place, she would never allow herself to dream while awake.
In the meantime, she would enjoy the nights surrounded by a warm life, far removed from ink and the grim reality.
Despite the warmth with which she had fallen asleep, Nami woke up freezing. Luffy's embrace had loosened while the octopus boy tossed and turned in his sleep under the dawn light. The house remained silent, either because it was still early or because they had stayed up so late the night before.
As she sat on the mattress, with what seemed to be Ace's breath on the back of her neck, she became aware that it wasn't yet eight o'clock because no one had knocked on the door with the file Garp had requested. Slowly, and knowing that once the old man woke up, it would be impossible to leave that house, she got up, still dressed in the clothes and bruises from the previous day, and slipped out of the partially open second-floor window, guilt gnawing at the back of her mind. Even though she shouldn't feel guilty because, after all, Nami had decided to stay. She had told everything, and that story would only lead to death if she returned, for her and her family. Arlong only had compassion for his own kind and his interests, and Nami would cease to interest him the moment he saw how she had sold him out to the Marines. Even though that "Marine" only had one member and was the grandfather of two wild children, he was still a Vice Admiral, which is why she had trusted him—because, even if it was for the love of those children, Nami had faith in the strength of that affection, which could be sensed between the anger and the scolding.
Even so, if she wanted to stay and lend a hand to that strange family, she first needed to position the pieces correctly on the board. Only then could she face a threat like the one that awaited her on Cocoyashi Island, and for that, she had to return to the ship to gather the supplies stored beneath its floorboards
The door opened quietly, and she left a visible fingerprint on the doorknob, to remove any responsibility from the boy who was still rocking in his sleep, clutching a pillow in his rubbery arms.
The house was near Foosha Village, so she took the liberty of leaving another trace of her presence when she greeted Makino, who was already preparing the tavern for opening time.
"Nami! They told me you were with Garp and the kids. Have they already released Ace?"
Makino's voice was tinged with hope, and the girl's stomach twisted. She should have avoided the place, she thought, as she twisted a loose thread from her shirt sleeve between her fingers, where the tattoo urged her to take to the sea and never return.
"The old man wants to take care of everything, ma'am. I imagine he'll sort it out. I would never mess with a man like him if I were one of those Marine thugs."
The soft, reddened lips of that maternal-looking woman curved at her words, and Nami tried to distance herself from the gravitational pull of a woman like her. With that aura that only mothers radiated. The worst nightmare for an orphan like her, who lately found herself drawn to any promise of family, however weak.
"I'm glad to hear that. Come, stay for breakfast, Nami. Isn't Luffy with you today?"
She shook her head, downcast. Her fingers tingled as she forced herself to squirm under the weight of the lie.
"No, I'm sorry, ma'am. I have to pick up some things, and Garp sent me to get them now while Ace and Luffy are still asleep and can't cause a fuss over everything. You know how they are."
The innkeeper laughed softly, but Nami didn't give her time to respond. She headed toward the cliff, urgency in her steps and guilt clinging to her back.
Even if it was just to collect the maps and the Den Den Mushi hidden aboard her small boat and buy some time.
The sea was choppy when she reached the spot where she had moored her little boat, and she quickly tasted the salt in the air.
She had hidden the boat well, so with the high tide, it took some effort to reach the light planks and climb aboard with some semblance of elegance. She wobbled a bit when she finally managed it and had to grab onto the mast like any child touching the sea with their feet on wood for the first time.
Once her stomach had fully grasped that it wasn't the time to throw everything up, and when she finally steadied herself—something that always took her a few seconds longer than the rest of the world due to her ears—she dug her fingers into one of the planks that separated the boat's real bottom from the thin air bubble that kept it from the depths of the sea.
Her hands went numb from the cold water and the effort. By the time the plank finally gave way, Nami was gasping, with the icy droplets of the sea caressing her body.
The cold intensified, and she lost what little air remained in her lungs when she realized, horrified, that the small bag containing the backup maps and the Den Den Mushi had disappeared.
Hysterical, she fell to her knees on the floor, completely soaked by the waves and groped unsuccessfully at the bottom of the boat. Her hands trembled, paralyzed by fear and cold.
"Looking for this? Nami, dear."
Her blood turned to ice, and the most absolute terror, lodged in her throat, anchored her there, curled up on herself.
The small shell jingled in front of her, near her blue-tipped fingers. She felt like wax when a scaly, jelly-like hand touched her neck, lifting her chin as it squeezed the tender flesh of her throat.
Arlong.
Arlong had come looking for her.
"I hope you missed me, my sweet kitten," the fish-man's other slimy, cold hand sought out the hidden ink to pierce one of his claws into it. "I definitely missed you. You had me worried after so long without answering my calls. Right, Chew?"
Her already pale face went completely white at the sight of blonde hair emerging from the sea, alongside two dark pigtails and a tentacle too large to be a coincidence in those murky waters.
"Arlong, I…"
The excuse didn't even have a chance to be born before the man tightened his grip around her neck.
"Save it, dear. I'm sure your old Marine loves the bedtime stories you tell, but I've seen enough to know what you've done, idiot."
She shook her head vigorously, desperate.
"No…"
"You betrayed me, Nami. Kurobi was right—humans know nothing but how to lie."
The hand choking her tightened to the point where the long, serrated nose of the fish-man became the center of her world. Her shoulder throbbed with his claw buried in her flesh.
She tried to breathe, but Arlong's hand squeezed her throat even more. She whimpered, terrified. Her legs, already clumsy in the icy water and the cold of the morning, burned, hot.
Hachi's squeaky voice reached her ears, weakened by the lack of air and fear.
"Captain, I think she just peed herself."
Shame didn't even cross her mind as Arlong and his crew's laughter filled her ears, with the world turning into a sphere of darkness and her body aching, increasingly numbed by the lack of oxygen.
Arlong's long fingers relaxed around her neck, and Nami finally managed to gulp in air. Her lungs burned, and the world went black and silent again, as desperation found her once more in its rough embrace.
"Thank your mother for teaching you to do something, or you'd already be dead, traitor."
Through the haze, she thought there couldn't be two more different embraces—it should be unnatural. Luffy's arms were elastic and warm when she had woken up tangled in them just an hour before. Now that the world was fading again, they seemed part of a cruel joke, twisted and cheerful, amid the cold and cruel misfortune that had always been and would always be her life.
Surprise!
I truly hope you didn't expect that ending for this chapter! I've already planned the grand finale—there's still some time before we get there, but it's approaching. Don't worry, though, there's still more to come! Even so, it makes me a bit sad because I already know the ending. In fact, I even have the summary written down. :(
Well, how was the chapter? Did you like it? It took me three attempts to write it the way I wanted (so this chapter has been written three times)
That's why I made the summary.
Well, how was it? I need to know your opinions!