Skies of Our Youth

by lalagirl1201

In a world of textbooks, internships, and late-night ramen, the Straw Hats navigate college life, careers, and the chaos of growing up. Between romance, drama, action, and friendship, they're chasing dreams—and each other—one wild day at a time in this modern AU.

3. June

June

The soft hum of the jukebox played "Dominoes" by Lorde, its mellow beat mixing with the warm summer breeze drifting in through the open patio door. Nami sat curled up on the couch in pajama shorts and a tank top, one leg tucked under her. Her hair was piled into a messy bun, and her oversized glasses slipped a little down her nose as she squinted at the storm modeling data on her laptop. A half-finished mimosa sat on the coffee table beside her.

She reached to set her glass down—but her cast bumped it, nearly knocking it over. Nami hissed through her teeth, catching it just in time.

"Ugh," she muttered, adjusting the glass with her good hand. "I swear, this thing is more of a hazard than the actual injury."

The apartment was quiet, everyone else long gone for the day. That is, until the faint shuffle of feet echoed down the hallway.

Luffy stumbled into the living room, shirtless and yawning, his hair sticking up wildly. His pajama pants hung low on his hips, and he rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand.

"Breakfast…" he groaned like a zombie.

Nami glanced over her shoulder at him. "Finally decided to wake up, huh? Let me guess—you stayed up all night playing video games again?"

Luffy ignored her, padding into the room and calling out, "Sanji! Where's the food?"

"Don't bother," Nami said, turning back to her laptop. "Everyone left for work like two hours ago. Besides, it's not breakfast anymore—it's basically lunchtime."

Luffy flopped dramatically onto the rug with a groan, arms spread wide.

"I'm gonna starve…" Luffy rolled over onto his stomach, cheek smooshed against the rug, and groaned, "Naaamiiiii… can you make me breakfast?"

Nami didn't even glance up from her screen. "Just go get a bowl of cereal or something."

Luffy pouted into the floor. "But cereal's not real food…"

"It is when you're too lazy to cook anything else," Nami replied dryly, eyes still scanning her storm patterns. She shifted slightly, adjusting her cast so it didn't knock her mimosa over again.

"But I'm injured too!" Luffy whined, holding up his still-bandaged hands for dramatic effect. "I can't open the cereal box…"

"You literally opened a jar of pickles yesterday with your teeth."

"That was different!" he huffed, pushing himself upright. "That was for survival."

Nami finally looked over at him, arching a brow. "So is getting cereal, apparently."

Luffy gave her a long, pleading look. She returned it with a blank stare.

A beat passed.

Then Luffy sighed heavily and dragged himself to his feet with the weight of a thousand tragedies. "Fiiine. I'll get my own cereal. But if I starve and die, it's on you."

Luffy shuffled to the fridge, feet dragging against the tile. He reached for the handle, gave it a tug—clunk. He tugged again. Clunk.

He stared at the shiny padlock securing the handles together and groaned, "Nami! Sanji locked the fridge again. Can you unlock it, please?"

From the couch, Nami let out a sigh so long it could've powered a wind turbine. She closed her laptop with a soft click and set it aside, pushing herself to her feet with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, yeah—hold on. But turn around. No peeking at the code this time."

Luffy spun around dramatically and shuffled to the nearest corner like a scolded child. "I wouldn't peek…" he muttered under his breath.

"You did last time and ended up drinking all of Sanji's marinating sauce thinking it was juice," she replied, already keying in the code. "We are not doing that again."

As soon as he heard the click of the padlock opening, Luffy bolted over like a kid on Christmas morning, practically yanking the fridge door off its hinges. "YEEES!" he cried, reaching in and immediately pulling out a full gallon of milk.

Before Nami could stop him, he tipped it back and started chugging straight from the jug.

"Luffy—!" she started, incredulous, but the words caught in her throat.

She stood frozen as she watched a stream of milk trail down the side of his mouth, dripping from his chin and running down the center of his chest. The sunlight from the patio door hit him just right, highlighting the definition in his torso—lean, athletic muscle from years of constant motion. Nothing like Zoro's hulking bulk, but still—

Damn, Nami thought, caught off guard by herself. She quickly averted her gaze, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pretending to adjust her glasses like nothing had happened.

"You're such an animal," she muttered, her voice tinged with a hint of color—just like her cheeks, which were starting to pinken.

Luffy pulled the jug away with a satisfied gasp, milk dripping from his chin. "So good."

"Use a glass next time, caveman," she said, though the usual edge in her tone was noticeably softer.

He beamed. "You sound like Sanji."

"Good. Maybe you'll finally listen to someone." She grabbed a dish towel from the counter and tossed it his way. "Wipe your face. You're dripping."

Luffy caught the towel one-handed and glanced at her. "You okay?"

Nami blinked. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

But then he stepped closer, and her breath hitched slightly. The flush on her cheeks deepened.

Oh god. He totally caught me checking him out. Dear lord.

Without warning, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

"You're all red. Are you getting sick?"

She immediately swatted his hand away, flustered. "No! I'm not sick. It's just... warm in here. I'll shut the patio door."

She spun on her heel, marching toward the door like it had personally offended her, praying he didn't notice the way she was absolutely not walking straight.

Nami let out a quiet sigh as she pulled the patio door shut, sealing out the summer breeze and, hopefully, the chaos that came with it.

Ever since that bizarre weekend she'd been stranded with Luffy at the weather station, something had started to shift. She tried to pretend it hadn't—tried to chalk it up to being cold and exhausted and desperate for warmth—but she had cuddled up next to him that night, tucked under a ratty emergency blanket, and something about the way he'd unconsciously pulled her closer had left a lasting impression she couldn't shake.

She hated to admit it, but she'd found herself staring a little too long at that picture Vivi had sent—of her and Luffy asleep in the van on the drive home, his head tipped onto her shoulder, her hand loosely resting against his arm. They'd looked... comfortable. Natural, even. Like a couple.

God, she thought, heart skipping. Am I seriously catching feelings? For Luffy?

No. Absolutely not.

This was just... summertime loneliness. That was all. She was in a weird emotional space—about to graduate, standing on the edge of adulthood, maybe just craving something real. A real relationship. Not another date-for-dinner guy. Not some drunk club makeout. She'd never had an actual boyfriend, just vague flings and fleeting distractions.

But Luffy?

No. Her brain needed to get itself together. Luffy was impulsive and childish and a total mess most of the time. Sure, he was sweet—thoughtful in his own weird way—and yeah, okay, maybe surprisingly good-looking when he wasn't covered in snack crumbs. But he was Luffy. Her friend. Her dumb, reckless roommate. That's all.

Her spiraling thoughts screeched to a halt when she heard his voice behind her.

"Wow, this looks cool!" Luffy was now perched on the couch, hunched over her laptop. "Is this your work stuff?"

Nami turned, startled. "Hey—don't touch that!" she said, a little too quickly, marching over.

Luffy looked up at her, eyes wide with curiosity rather than guilt. "But it's got all these swirly storm things on it! Like clouds and spirals and—whoa, is that lightning?"

Nami huffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "Yes, it's lightning. And yes, it's my work stuff. I'm modeling the storm systems expected to hit the East Coast next week."

Luffy grinned. "That's awesome. You can see storms before they even happen?"

Nami rolled her eyes. "That's kind of the whole point, yeah."

He leaned back against the cushions, clearly impressed. "You're like a weather superhero or something."

Nami blinked, caught off guard. "A... superhero?"

"Yeah," Luffy said, sincere as ever. "You make sure people don't get caught in bad stuff. That's cool."

Nami's heart tugged unexpectedly. For all his nonsense, Luffy had this way of making things sound... important.

She cleared her throat, brushing her fingers across the edge of the keyboard. "Well, it's not that heroic. It's just data."

"Still cool," he smiled.

Nami crossed her arms and gave him a look. "When exactly are you going back to work?"

Luffy blinked at her, yawning. "I told you. When Chopper gives my hands the okay. Heracles said I can't really do much until they're healed anyway."

Nami nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced. "Right. Well, then I'm going back to my room to work. Some of us don't get time off with nothing to do."

Luffy immediately pouted, flopping sideways on the couch like a kicked puppy. "Nooo, Nami, don't leave me alone! It'll be so boring!" He stretched out his words dramatically, rolling onto his back. "We should do something!"

"I told you," she said firmly, scooping her laptop back into her arms, "I have work. You know, real work."

"But it's summer," he whined. "And hot. And slow. And you're already dressed comfy. We could go outside! Watch a movie! Get ice cream! I dunno—something!"

"You know what you should be doing?" she said as she paused by the hallway. "Studying. Isn't your first calculus exam coming up sometime this week?"

Luffy groaned like she'd just told him his favorite snack was discontinued. "Ughhhh. Don't remind me."

She raised a brow. "You really want to waste your whole morning lying around doing nothing?"

"I mean," he sat up a little, hopeful, "technically I could study... if you helped me. While we watched a movie. Or had a picnic. Or went to the park. Or did literally anything that wasn't me sitting alone with a textbook."

Nami hesitated. Just a second. Long enough for Luffy to catch it.

He grinned. "C'mon. Just a little break. You can pick the movie. Or the park. Or the ice cream. Dealer's choice."

Nami let out a dramatic sigh, staring at him with exasperation. "God, you're so annoying."

Luffy's face lit up instantly. "So... is that a yes?"

She rolled her eyes but smirked. "Let me get changed. I wouldn't mind a little sun and fresh air."

"YES!" Luffy fist-pumped, bouncing slightly on the couch.

"But you are taking a shower first," Nami added, pointing at him. "You smell terrible."

Luffy groaned, flopping back onto the cushions. "Ugh, fiiine."

---

The morning sun shimmered over the water, casting golden glints along the surface of the slow-moving river. Luffy and Nami strolled down the gravel path toward a quiet, shaded spot tucked beneath a row of willows.

Nami adjusted the brim of her oversized sunhat, her heels clicking lightly against the stone. She had a backpack strapped over one shoulder, her designer purse on her good arm, and a picnic basket swinging from the same hand. "Hopefully there's no one we know over here. I don't want people seeing me with the cast."

Luffy trudged beside her, a mismatched pile of fishing poles and tackle boxes bundled awkwardly in his arms, his straw hat perched at a slight tilt atop his head. "You're being dramatic," he said, squinting ahead at the riverbank.

Nami scowled, shifting her load and lifting her cast slightly. "You aren't the one with a hunk of plaster making your arm look like Franky's. I feel like I should be shooting rockets out of it."

Luffy snorted. "That'd be awesome. Do you think Chopper and Franky could add that?"

She gave him a sideways glare. "You're not funny."

He grinned anyway. "A little funny."

They reached the patch of grass closest to the river, tucked just enough out of view from the walking trail. Nami set the picnic basket down with a huff and shrugged off her backpack.

Luffy dropped the fishing gear with a clatter and immediately plopped down in the grass. "This spot's perfect! Look—no people. Just us and fish."

"And probably mosquitoes," Nami muttered, digging into her bag for sunscreen.

"Nature's friends," Luffy said cheerfully, already tying bait onto a hook.

Nami rolled her eyes and sat down beside him, stretching her legs out and adjusting her sunglasses. "What are you doing? You get half an hour of studying. Then you can fish."

Luffy groaned dramatically. "But my brain's not ready!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Then I guess neither is your fishing rod."

He grumbled, pulling out his notebook from her bag with exaggerated reluctance.

---

Luffy's brow was furrowed, tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he scribbled down the start of a problem. "Okay, so… the derivative of 3x² is… uhhh…"

"6x," Nami said patiently, tapping her pencil against his notebook. "Come on, we've gone over this three times."

"Yeah, but I was hungry those times," he mumbled.

"You're always hungry."

Before Luffy could come up with another excuse, the soft patter of running feet caught both their attention. A tall figure slowed down on the walking path above them, squinting through the dappled afternoon light.

"Luffy?"

They turned to see Shirahoshi jogging in place, tugging her earbuds out. Her soft pink hair was pulled into a high ponytail that bounced with each movement. She wore a navy sports bra and matching shorts, skin dewy from her run and cheeks flushed with effort. At six and a half feet tall, Shirahoshi was hard to miss.

She was on the university swim team—one of their best, despite being a year under Luffy. Her coach had tried convincing her to join the basketball team too, but she cried too much under the pressure of team sports. Nami and Shirahoshi knew each other through the Women in Campus Extracurriculars club, and both she and Luffy considered her a good friend.

Luffy lit up. "Hey! Weepyhoshi!"

Shirahoshi's nose scrunched in a pout. "I really wish you'd stop calling me that, Luffy."

He just grinned, completely unapologetic.

Her gaze shifted and landed on Nami, her expression brightening. "Oh! Nami's here too!"

"Hey," Nami said, offering a nervous little wave and a half-smile.

But then Shirahoshi noticed the cast. Her bright blue eyes widened in alarm. "Oh my goodness, Nami! What happened? Are you okay?"

Nami sighed and held up her arm slightly. "It's a long story."

"She fell while climbing," Luffy said helpfully.

Shirahoshi gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth, eyes already starting to mist. "That's terrible! You poor thing!"

"No, no—don't cry," Nami said quickly, waving her good hand in alarm. "It's not as dramatic as he's making it sound. I'm fine, really. Just the arm."

"You didn't hit your head or anything, right?" Shirahoshi asked, worry furrowing her brow.

"Nope. Just the arm. And maybe my pride," Nami muttered, adjusting the brim of her hat.

Before Shirahoshi could get teary, Luffy jumped in with a grin. "So what are you doing over here? You training?"

"Mm-hmm!" she said, perking up again. "Summer swim season starts next week, so I've been doing more cardio. My coach says I need to build endurance outside the pool."

She gave a sheepish smile. "I try to come this way. There's fewer people, so it's not as overwhelming."

Luffy perked up, slapping his thigh with enthusiasm. "You should take a break and come fishing with me!"

Nami shot him a glare. "You still haven't finished studying."

Luffy let out a dramatic groan and pouted, looking to Shirahoshi for sympathy.

She giggled, hands resting on her hips. "That's okay, I should really get back to my run anyway. Besides…" Her eyes sparkled with innocence. "It would be rude to crash your date."

"Date?" Luffy blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

"IT'S NOT A DATE!" Nami blurted out, nearly dropping the picnic basket as her face turned scarlet.

Shirahoshi flinched, eyes going wide before they welled up with tears. "I-I'm sorry for misunderstanding!" she sniffled. "Please don't yell at me!"

Nami immediately panicked. "Oh no, no no no—I wasn't yelling at you! I swear! I just—just got startled, that's all!"

Luffy turned to Nami. "Dammit Nami, You made Weepyhoshi cry again."

"I didn't mean to!" Nami blurted, already digging through her bag for tissues. She hurried over, holding them out. "Shirahoshi, I promise I wasn't mad at you, okay? I was just—ugh, never mind."

Shirahoshi took the tissues with a sniffle, dabbing at her eyes. "Okay… I believe you…"

Trying to ease the mood, Nami shifted the subject with a small smile. "Hey, once I get this stupid cast off—should be a few weeks—you wanna hit the beach together?"

Shirahoshi's face brightened immediately, her teary eyes sparkling. "I'd like that very much!"

Nami relaxed, glad to see her smiling again.

"Oh! Also—" Shirahoshi perked up, bouncing slightly on her toes. "I'll have a home swim meet at the end of the month! If you guys wanna come, I would love the support!"

Luffy's eyes lit up. "Yeah! That sounds fun!"

Nami nodded with a warm smile. "Totally. Just text us the details and we'll be there."

"Really? Yay!" Shirahoshi clapped her hands together, looking overjoyed.

"Now go finish your run before your coach gets on you," Nami teased, waving her off.

"Right! Bye, Luffy! Bye, Nami!" Shirahoshi gave them both a cheerful wave before jogging off, her ponytail swaying behind her.

Luffy scratched the back of his head, his straw hat tilting slightly. "Huh, I wonder why she thought we were on a date."

Nami let out a soft sigh, sitting back down. "I mean, going on picnics and stuff like that is stuff couples do."

Luffy blinked. "Yeah, but friends do it all the time too."

"I know, I know," Nami muttered, glancing away toward the river. The sunlight sparkled on the water, and for a moment she focused on that instead of the warm, fluttery feeling in her chest. "Let's just… get back to studying."

---

The interior of the bank was cool and quiet, the scent of polished wood and paperwork lingering in the air. Sanji sat beside Zeff in an oversized leather chair, legs crossed, fingers drumming impatiently against his knee. Across from them, a suited banker adjusted his glasses, glancing between their credit reports and the screen in front of him.

"Well," the banker said, clearly impressed, "everything seems to be in order. Strong credit histories, a clear business plan, and the down payment is substantial. I think we're ready to move forward on the loan approval and the purchase of the property—"

The sharp jingle of the doorbell interrupted him.

Three figures strode in, all unmistakable. Big Mom's wide silhouette filled the entryway, her bright dress swirling as she entered with a booming laugh. Pudding followed behind, demure but visibly irritated, and Katakuri brought up the rear, calm and brooding as always.

Sanji's heart nearly burst from his chest. "Pudding-chaaaan!" he gasped, stars in his eyes. "You look absolutely radiant, like a chocolate ganache glazed over the heavens!"

Pudding laughed nervously, giving him a wave while muttering, "What a moron."

Big Mom stormed up to the desk, hands on her hips. "Hold it right there! This building isn't up for grabs just yet."

Zeff stood up slowly, his expression cool but sharp. "We put in an offer. Bank says it's clean. You got a problem with that, Linlin?"

"Damn right I do!" Big Mom snapped. "I've had my eye on that lot for months. I want it for my darling daughter's bakery expansion."

The banker shrank slightly in his seat, eyeing the two older chefs nervously. "Uh—technically, the first party to secure financing has claim—"

"Silence," Big Mom said, waving a hand. The banker immediately went quiet.

Katakuri cleared his throat. "We could argue all day about who was here first, or who deserves the spot. But I have a simpler idea."

All eyes turned to him.

He stepped forward, arms crossed. "A cook-off. Sanji versus Pudding. Big Mom judges. Winner gets the building."

Sanji's eyes widened. "What?! That's completely rigged. She's her mom! There's no way she'd pick anything but her daughter's—"

"We accept," Zeff interrupted firmly.

Sanji whipped around to stare at him. "Old man?!"

Zeff looked back at him with steady confidence. "My son is the best damn chef I've ever met. I have faith in his abilities. Even if you're biased toward your daughter's cooking," he added, narrowing his eyes at Big Mom, "I know Sanji will win you over."

Big Mom's lips curled into a sharp smile. "You sure about that?"

She clapped her hands together. "Then it's settled! In two weeks on Wednesday. You two are welcome at my estate. We'll eat, we'll judge, and we'll see who's truly worthy of that storefront."

Sanji exhaled sharply, adrenaline already buzzing in his veins.

Katakuri gave a faint nod. "May the best chef win."

---

The clatter of silverware and the scent of sautéed garlic filled the house, the kitchen warm and golden with the glow of overhead lights. Everyone had gathered around the big dining table, plates of curry and rice steaming in front of them. But Sanji, usually the one fluttering around with seconds and praise, sat slouched in his chair, eyes distant as he absentmindedly pushed rice around his plate.

Luffy blinked across the table, mid-bite. "Hey, are you okay?"

Sanji didn't look up. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Jinbe narrowed his eyes. "You look like someone who isn't fine. Did you run into Big Mom again today?"

Sanji let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah…"

Chopper gasped from beside Nami, spoon halfway to his mouth. "Oh no! Does that mean you and Zeff didn't get the storefront?!"

Sanji finally looked up and leaned back in his chair, exhaling hard. "Not exactly."

Everyone went quiet. Even Zoro glanced up from his drink.

Sanji ran a hand through his hair, expression tight. "We were just about to finalize the purchase when Big Mom barged into the bank. With Pudding. And Katakuri."

Usopp's mouth dropped open. "At the bank? Seriously?!"

"So what happened?" Robin asked, calm but curious.

Sanji grimaced. "Katakuri stepped in. Suggested a… 'friendly' cook-off between me and Pudding. Big Mom as the judge. Whoever she picks wins the building."

The table erupted into reactions.

"What?! That's totally unfair!" Nami said, slamming her hand on the table.

"That's biased as hell!" Franky added. "You're gonna cook against her daughter, and her mom's gonna be the judge?!"

Luffy, however, was grinning. "A cook-off?! That sounds awesome! You'll win for sure, Sanji!"

Sanji shook his head slowly. "It's not that simple. Pudding's good. Really good. And Big Mom's palate is legendary—and unpredictable."

"She once gave a five-star review to a guy who served nothing but raw jam on toast," Jinbe muttered.

"I heard she tried to eat the guy afterward," Robin added dryly.

Chopper fidgeted, eyes wide. "So… are you gonna do it?"

Sanji paused for a beat. Then nodded. "Zeff accepted the challenge before I could say anything. Said he believes in me. Said I'll win her over, bias or not."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then Zoro snorted. "Tch. He's right. You are annoyingly good."

"Yeah," Usopp said, punching the air. "We believe in you!"

Sanji looked around at the faces of his friends—his family. Their support warmed something in his chest, tugging the tension loose from his shoulders. Slowly, a small smile curved at the corner of his lips.

"Thanks, guys," he said quietly, voice low but genuine.

Luffy leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "Hey—can we come?"

Usopp's fork nearly slipped from his hand. "What?! To Big Mom's house?! Are you crazy?!"

Jinbe stroked his chin thoughtfully. "In two Wednesdays… That's when Brook gets back from tour too, right?"

Sanji glanced up, surprised.

"I think it would be nice if we all went and showed our support," Jinbe continued with a small nod. "Make it a proper outing."

"Like a field trip to enemy territory," Usopp muttered, still wide-eyed.

Chopper, however, looked excited. "Ooh, maybe Brook can sing something while we're there! You know, like background music for the cook-off!"

Sanji chuckled under his breath, the nerves in his chest easing just a bit. "You guys really are something else…"

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "As long as we're not expected to dress up or anything."

"You could at least try to look decent," Nami said, giving him a pointed look.

"Count me in," Robin said with a calm smile, sipping her tea. "This sounds far too entertaining to miss."

Sanji's gaze lingered on all of them—these chaotic, unpredictable people who had his back without question.

"Alright," he said. "Let's make a show of it then."

Luffy grinned. "We're gonna cheer so loud when you win!"

Sanji smirked, finally starting to feel like himself again. "Damn right you are."

---

The living room was bathed in a soft, warm glow, the hum of the television filling the space as the group sank into their nightly routine. A half-empty wine bottle rested on the coffee table, Robin and Nami sipping from their glasses. Zoro was knocked out cold in the armchair, an empty bottle loosely gripped in one hand and a faint snore escaping him every few minutes.

Robin had her laptop balanced on her knees, reading over a dense-looking document, her expression calm despite the chaos of voices and flickering TV images around her.

Everyone else was glued to the TV, watching the latest episode of Survivor. Luffy sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes wide, popcorn bowl in his lap. Chopper and Usopp leaned forward like the fate of the world depended on the tribal council vote. Even Jinbe, usually composed, looked faintly amused.

Nami, meanwhile, was half watching, half scrolling through Tinder on her phone, her finger idly swiping left with a disapproving look.

Usopp leaned over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Playing the Tinder game," Nami said with a shrug. "You know, half of these profiles are so cringy. Just look at this one."

She angled her phone toward Usopp, showing him a group picture of a bunch of men.

"Why do they always post group pictures?" Nami muttered. "They never wanted you to know which one in the group they are."

Usopp snorted. "Oh! That reminds me. Nami, I need your help setting up a Tinder profile."

Nami raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Why? I thought you were only interested in Kaya."

"No no," Usopp said quickly, waving his hands. "I am, I totally am. But I've got a plan. Okay, so I set up my Tinder, right? And you make me look, like, awesome. Cool photos, witty bio—like, peak me."

Nami looked skeptical. "Alright…?"

"Then Kaya sees it. And she swipes right. Boom! Instant, natural segue to take our friendship to the next step."

She blinked. "You're banking this entire plan on Kaya swiping right on you?"

"No, no, no," Usopp said confidently. "Not just that. I know she will. You wanna know why?"

"Why?" Nami asked, already bracing herself.

Usopp pointed at her like he was delivering the final answer in a quiz show. "Because everyone always swipes right on people they know."

Robin didn't even look up from her screen. "That's not true at all."

"Really?" Sanji piped in from the couch, cigarette in hand. "I always swipe on girls I know."

Franky chimed in without missing a beat, "That's because you swipe right on everyone, bro."

"Not true," Sanji said, scandalized. "I have standards!"

"Do you though?" Nami muttered, sipping her wine.

"That's cold, Nami-swan…"

"Anyway," Usopp said, undeterred, "are you gonna help me or not?"

Nami sighed and leaned back against the couch cushions. "You know, you don't need a whole elaborate scheme. You could just ask her out."

Usopp hesitated, frowning. "Okay, but… what if she says no?"

Nami turned to him, firm but kind. "Usopp. Kaya likes you."

He blinked. "Really?"

The room groaned in unison.

"YES," everyone said at once.

Just then, Luffy suddenly leapt to his feet, pointing at the TV. "DO YOU SEE THAT? SHE HAS AN IDOL!"

"Shh!" Chopper hissed, eyes still locked on the screen. "This is the best part!"

Luffy leaned in, gripping the popcorn bowl with intensity as the tribal council unfolded. "I knew she had an idol! She's gonna play it! She's totally gonna play it!"

"She better," Jinbe muttered, arms crossed. "Otherwise she's getting blindsided."

As the dramatic music swelled, the contestant onscreen stood up and pulled out the hidden immunity idol.

"YEEEEESSS!" Luffy yelled, nearly spilling the popcorn.

Chopper threw his arms up. "Let's gooo!"

Robin glanced up from her laptop with a faint smile. "You'd think they were watching the World Cup."

Usopp grinned. "Honestly, tribal council is more stressful than soccer."

Zoro let out a snore from the armchair, shifting slightly but still completely dead to the world.

---

Later that into the next week, the sun was starting to dip low, casting golden streaks through the blinds of Nami's room. "Yuck" by Charli XCX played softly from her phone speaker as she stood in front of her mirror, carefully applying a coat of lip gloss. She wore a sleek green cocktail dress that hugged her figure in all the right ways, paired with chunky platform Doc Marten sandals. Her hair was styled effortlessly, and she looked like she was going somewhere fancy—even though she wasn't.

The door creaked open without a knock. Luffy stepped in, looking like a zombie, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, his shirt wrinkled, and his expression blank. He collapsed face-first onto her bed with a dramatic groan.

"How'd your exam go?" Nami asked, not looking away from the mirror as she clicked her lip gloss shut.

"My brain hurts," he mumbled into her pillow.

"That's good. That means your brain was working."

Luffy rolled onto his back, eyes squinting up at the ceiling. Then he turned his head toward her, blinking slowly. "Why are you getting all dressed up?"

Nami glanced at him in the mirror, then turned around to face him. "I wanna take some pictures for my Tinder today."

Luffy raised a brow. "Why are you on Tinder? I thought you deleted it."

She gave him a look like the answer was self-explanatory. "Because I think I want a boyfriend? Why else?"

"Why?"

She sighed, brushing a hand down the front of her dress to smooth it. "Because I'm twenty-two and I've never had a boyfriend? I don't know. I think it would be nice."

Luffy sat up a little. "But you already have boy friends. Me, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Chopper—"

"Not that type of boyfriend," she cut in, shooting him a flat look. "I want, like, a boyfriend boyfriend."

"You don't need any other guys," Luffy said, frowning. "We keep you company all the time."

Nami groaned, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him. "Luffy, you're not interested in that type of thing. You don't get it."

He caught the pillow and hugged it, unconvinced but quiet.

She picked up her phone and tossed it at him. "Here. You're gonna take my pictures."

Luffy blinked at the phone in his hands. "Wait, what? Right now?"

"Yes, right now," she said, already grabbing a different lipstick from her vanity. "Golden hour doesn't wait."

As Nami pulled a brush through her hair one last time, Luffy wandered over to the photo wall by her desk—an ever-growing collage of polaroids, ticket stubs, and candid snapshots tacked up in a loose grid. His eyes scanned over them with mild curiosity, until one picture caught his attention.

He tilted his head, stepping closer. It was a photo tucked near the edge—slightly crooked, like it had been added in a rush. He reached up and plucked it off the wall. "Hey… when did we take this?"

Nami turned, eyes widening as she saw which one he was holding. "We didn't," she said a little too fast. "Vivi did. On the way back from Windmill Village."

It was the one of them asleep in the back of Nami's van—her head resting on his shoulder, his head tilted slightly toward hers. Both looked peaceful, completely out cold, bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun.

Luffy stared at it for a moment, then grinned. "Aww. I like it." He turned to her, holding it up. "Can you print me one too?"

Nami blinked, then quickly turned back to the mirror, pretending to reapply her lip gloss to hide the way her ears were turning pink. "Y-Yeah. Sure. I'll send you the file later."

---

Luffy held up Nami's phone, squinting at the screen as he tapped to focus. Nami stood by the window, one leg slightly bent, arm behind her back as she angled herself just right—chin tilted, lips parted just a little, like she'd practiced this a million times.

"Why are you only facing one side?" Luffy asked, his brow furrowed.

She let out a breath through her nose, shifting a bit. "Because I don't want this—" she gave her cast a small shake, "—in these pictures."

"Oh." Luffy nodded solemnly. "Okay."

She struck another pose, flipping her hair over her shoulder, arm still tucked behind her. Luffy tilted the phone, trying to frame the shot.

Then he paused, squinting again. "Why are you pushing your butt out so far?"

Nami whipped her head toward him, scandalized. "I'm not!"

Luffy shrugged. "Well, that dress just makes your butt look big, I guess."

"LUFFY!" she barked, face turning bright red.

"FINE!" he shouted back, lifting the phone again. "I'm taking them! Geez!"

"Okay! Got them!" Luffy declared proudly, lowering the phone like he'd just finished a mission of great importance.

Nami smiled and walked over. "Let me see."

She took the phone from his hand and started swiping through the photos. Her smile faded almost instantly.

Click. Click. Luffy kept snapping pictures with the same energy he'd use catching bugs—unbothered, mildly amused, and a little too honest.

One photo was tilted like the phone was halfway upside down. The next had Luffy's finger in the corner. Another was just slightly blurry—her face in mid-blink. And in another, the lighting was so off it made her look like she was glowing (and not in the good way).

Luffy leaned over her shoulder, grinning. "I think they turned out really nice."

Nami stared at him, deadpan.

He blinked. "What? You look like yourself."

She let out a long sigh. "You know what? I'll just ask Sanji this weekend."

Luffy walked back in from the patio, the sliding door clicking shut behind him. He flopped dramatically onto the couch, arms sprawled across the cushions like he'd just come back from running a marathon. "You know," he started, looking over at Nami, "I don't get why you think you need to get all dolled up and put those clear circle things in your eyes for pictures."

Nami walked in, shutting the patio door behind her. "They're contacts. I need them to see. They look better than my glasses."

Luffy waved a hand. "Yeah, those. And the dress. And the shoes. And the… lip shiny stuff."

"Lip gloss," she corrected with a sigh. "Luffy, Tinder is all about first impressions based on physical appearance. I wanna look good."

Luffy sat up, frowning slightly. "Yeah, but you look pretty without all the makeup. And in your glasses too. Why would you want attention from guys who are only interested if you're in heels and a dress?"

Nami froze for a second, a little caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone.

"I mean," Luffy went on, scratching his cheek like he was trying to find the right words, "you're cool the way you are. You make people laugh. You're smart. You help us when we don't get stuff. You're already good. I don't get why you'd wanna change just for… that."

Nami settled onto the couch beside him, tucking her legs under her. She gave him a sidelong glance, a teasing smile playing at her lips. "Wait a second… you think I'm pretty?"

Luffy nodded without hesitation. "Sure I do. So is Robin. And Vivi. And Hancock. And Shirahoshi. And Rebecca and—"

"Okay, okay," Nami laughed, nudging his arm. "I get it. I just… didn't think you noticed that kind of thing."

Luffy shrugged, casually. "Of course I do. I mean, I'm still a dude."

Nami smiled for a second, watching his profile as the flickering light from the window danced across his face. She hesitated a moment, then asked more quietly, "Hey Luffy… I know you've said before that you've never really thought about dating anyone. Do you know why?"

Luffy leaned his head back against the couch, his expression thoughtful for once. "I mean… I guess I'd be lying if the idea never crossed my mind. Like, once or twice. Briefly." He scratched the back of his head. "I just decided it's kind of boring. And it takes you away from your friends."

Nami raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

He looked over at her, more open than usual. "Back when I was in middle school and my brothers were in high school, they had tons of girlfriends—Ace more than Sabo. And whenever they were with them, I was left all alone." His voice dropped a little. "I didn't like it."

Nami's smile softened. "You felt like they were choosing their girlfriends over you."

Luffy nodded. "Yeah. And I didn't want to do that to anyone. Or be that person who forgets his friends just because he's with someone."

There was a quiet pause.

"…You know," Nami said softly, "it doesn't always have to be like that. Dating can actually be really fun. It's not the same as friendship, but… kind of is. It's like being close to someone in a different way—like you're friends, but there's this part of them only you get to see."

Luffy tilted his head, brow raised. "Didn't you say you've never had a boyfriend before?"

Nami smirked. "Yeah, well… I've had a few flings with some guys. And I've read basically every romance book Robin's ever recommended, so I've got a pretty good idea."

Nami gave him a small smile, then shifted the mood with a clap of her hands. "Well, what do we want to do until everyone gets back?"

"Movie?" Luffy suggested, already curling deeper into the couch cushions.

Nami perked up. "Great! I get to choose!."

"Nuh uh," Luffy protested, sitting up. "You picked last time! That park!"

She gave him a look. "Uh uh uh—you picked that park so you could go fishing. I only said I wanted to go outside. So technically, I didn't choose."

Luffy opened his mouth to argue, paused, then frowned. "…Dang. Fine."

"We're doing the Twilight movies," Nami declared with a wicked grin.

Luffy groaned, flopping back against the cushions. "Not the sparkle vampire one…"

"Don't complain," she smirked, already heading toward her room. "There's a really fun drinking game that goes with it. Let me get changed and we'll start."

Luffy narrowed his eyes. "…Do I get popcorn at least?"

"You get popcorn and the honor of watching cinematic history," Nami called from down the hall.

---

A little while later, Nami came back into the living room—now in black leggings and a red tube top, her hair twisted up into a messy ponytail. Her makeup was gone, leaving her face fresh and glowing, though her were still in place instead of her glasses. She balanced a tray in her hands, carrying a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, and two tall palomas.

She set it all down on the coffee table with a triumphant grin. "Okay. I found the drinking game."

Luffy perked up from where he was sprawled on the couch. "There's rules?"

"Oh, there are rules," Nami said, unlocking her phone. She pulled up the list and cleared her throat with mock formality. "Alright, take a sip every time Bella bites her lip. Take a drink whenever Bella and Edward silently eye-fuck. Take a drink if Edward does something controlling and it's played off as romantic. Drink anytime Charlie looks awkward. Finish your drink if Jacob randomly takes his shirt off."

Luffy blinked slowly. "So... we're gonna get wasted."

Nami smirked. "Very possibly. Oh, and bonus shots for any of these legendary lines: 'This is the skin of a killer, Bella.' 'Hold on tight, spider monkey.' 'Bella, where the hell have you been, loca?' 'Battle scars.' 'She broke her hand punching my face.' And of course—" she paused dramatically, "'You named my daughter after the Loch Ness Monster?!'"

Luffy stared at her like she was reciting an ancient prophecy. "Those are all real quotes?"

She just grinned wider. "You have no idea what you're in for."

He reached for his drink, sniffed it warily. "What's in this again?"

"Tequila, grapefruit soda, and lime," she replied, flopping onto the couch beside him. "Don't worry—it's mostly soda. Mostly."

---

They were a couple drinks in when Edward led Bella into the forest.

Luffy was slouched deep into the couch, his paloma nearly gone. Nami had her phone in one hand, half-reading the drinking game list again, and her shot glass balanced on her thigh.

"Wait for it…" she muttered.

Onscreen, Edward said, "You need to see what I look like in the sunlight."

"Oh get ready, one of the lines is coming up!" Nami shouted, already reaching for the bottle.

Luffy groaned but obediently held out his glass. "Why is he acting like he's gonna explode?"

Nami poured. "Just wait."

Edward stepped into a beam of light. His skin shimmered, pale and glittering like diamonds.

Luffy blinked. "…What's wrong with him?"

"He sparkles," Nami said, deadpan. "He sparkles in the sun."

"Why?" Luffy asked, absolutely baffled.

Nami finished pouring her shot. "Because Stephenie Meyer."

They both watched as Edward dramatically declared, "This is the skin of a killer, Bella!"

"SHOT!" they both yelled at once.

Luffy was laughing. "That's what killers look like? He looks like he fell in a vat of glitter glue."

Nami was snorting, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "You should see the baseball scene."

"I don't get this movie," Luffy said, making a face after the shot.

"You're not supposed to. That's part of the fun."

He looked at her sideways, one brow raised. "You actually like this?"

Nami smiled, tucking her legs up beneath her on the couch. "It's kinda dumb… but in the best way. Makes me feel like I'm back home with Nojiko and Bellemere."

Luffy perked up. "Nojiko likes this too?"

"Oh, Nojiko loves these movies," Nami laughed. "She used to sit us down and make it a whole thing—blankets, snacks, dramatic commentary. Total tradition."

Luffy tilted his head, still puzzled. "Why did she like these so much? I really just don't understand."

Nami chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You didn't grow up in a girl-only household. You just won't get it. The girls who get it, get it."

---

Luffy leaned back into the couch, his head resting against the cushions, a slightly lopsided grin on his face. "You know," he said, pointing loosely at the dark TV screen, "the baseball scene wasn't that bad. It was kinda cool."

Nami beamed, holding her mostly empty glass in both hands. "I told you. Cinematic masterpiece."

"You ready for the next one?" she added, already reaching for the remote.

Luffy blinked. "Next one? How many more are there?"

"Four!"

Luffy groaned dramatically, letting his head fall to the side. "When is everyone else coming home?"

Nami snorted and grabbed her phone. "You're right. It's like… seven. Everyone should be back by now." She unlocked the screen and opened their group chat. Her eyebrows lifted as she scrolled through.

"Uh-oh."

Luffy sat up slightly. "What?"

Nami held the phone between them. "Chopper's doing an overnight shift at the clinic. Robin says she just made a breakthrough and she's in the zone. Sanji's got a rush at Baratie. Zoro's walking home because his motorcycle broke down, and he may or may not be lost. Franky's out looking for him—"

Luffy snorted. "They're never getting back."

"—Usopp's pulling an all-nighter at the bookstore to work on his comic, Jinbe's prepping for a judo competition tomorrow, and Brook…" she paused, "…well, Brook's still on tour."

Luffy let out a wheeze and slumped into the couch again. "So it's just us."

Nami looked over at him, amused. "Yup. Guess that means you're stuck watching New Moon with me."

Luffy immediately sat up. "No way—food first! I'm starving!"

---

The kitchen buzzed with the sounds of clattering utensils and laughter. Luffy perched halfway on the counter, digging through a cabinet for instant noodles while Nami nodded her head to "Sour Patch Kids" by Bryce Vine, Luffy's pick.

"I found the spicy ones!" Luffy shouted, holding the bright red packets above his head like a prize.

"Perfect," Nami grinned, reaching for one—only for Luffy to pull it just out of her grasp.

"Nuh-uh. Say please."

"Luffy," she warned, narrowing her eyes in mock threat.

"Pleeaase," he mimicked, batting his lashes.

She snatched it from him when he cracked up, unable to keep dodging. "You're such a little gremlin when you drink."

Luffy flashed a wide grin, hopping off the counter to grab two eggs. "You want them runny, or the weird solid kind Sanji makes?"

"Runny. But don't mess it up—"

"I won't!" he interrupted, cracking an egg with exaggerated flair. The pan sizzled loudly.

They moved around each other in the cramped kitchen like it was second nature—bumping hips, stealing bites of food, and Luffy belting out off-key lyrics.

"I don't wanna think about anything at all! I just wanna run around doin' what I want!" Luffy sang, then pointed at Nami as he sang the next line, "With a pretty ass girl and a slow jam, and some Sour Patch Kids and a Coke can!"

Nami rolled her eyes, but her laughter betrayed her. Luffy burst into laughter, too.

He wandered over, leaning a little too close, peering at the pot of noodles. "Smells good."

"You're breathing on my neck."

"I'm appreciating the food vibes."

She nudged him away with her elbow, her cheeks tinged with pink.

As she stirred, her thoughts drifted.

Is he… flirting with me right now? No. No way. Luffy doesn't even know how to flirt. It's just the alcohol. Focus on dinner. Focus on—

"Hey, Nami."

She snapped back to the present, looking up.

He grinned like a kid who'd just discovered fire, holding out a spoonful of broth. "Taste test?"

Nami leaned in, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. She immediately recoiled, coughing and gagging. "What the hell—Luffy! How did you manage to screw up instant noodles?!"

"What? That bad?" he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

She shoved the spoon back at him. "You try it!"

Without hesitation, he took a sip—then doubled over, gasping for air.

Nami grabbed a glass of water, still coughing. "Did you put all the chili oil in?!"

"Maybe…" he mumbled, blinking through tears. "I thought it needed flavor!"

She thumped him on the back as he hacked into his elbow. "You're banned from seasoning anything ever again."

---

By the time the kitchen had cleared of smoke and their mouths had stopped burning, they'd both agreed that cooking while tipsy was maybe not their best idea. Which was how they ended up back on the couch, wrapped in blankets, with a stack of pizza boxes on the coffee table and New Moon queued up on the screen.

Luffy was already elbow-deep in his first pizza box—cheese stretching between bites like edible spiderwebs—while Nami sat cross-legged beside him, picking at her salad with a fork and sipping the last of her paloma.

"I still don't get how you can eat three whole pizzas," Nami said, side-eyeing Luffy as he tore through his second slice like it was nothing.

"I'm a growing boy," he mumbled around a mouthful of cheese and crust.

"You're twenty-two," she laughed, shaking her head.

"Still counts."

The movie began, and the familiar moody soundtrack filled the room as Bella stared blankly into the forest. Then came the slow, melancholy montage—her sitting motionless in her room as the seasons passed outside her window.

Luffy blinked at the screen, chewing slower now. "Damn," he muttered, "this is actually kinda sad."

They were both a little deeper into their drinks now—Nami sipping her paloma with ease, while Luffy had taken a few more shots than strictly necessary. His cheeks were flushed, and his limbs had that loose, floppy look that only came when he was just past tipsy.

On screen, Jacob strutted up to Bella outside his garage. "Bella! Where the hell have you been, loca?" he grinned.

"Shot!" they both shouted at the same time, laughing as they clinked their glasses and tossed them back.

Luffy slammed his empty shot glass on the coffee table, then immediately let out a loud, rumbling belch that echoed through the living room.

"Gross," Nami groaned, swatting at him with the throw pillow beside her.

Luffy grinned lazily and flopped backward against the couch, limbs splayed out like a starfish. "I don't know how much more I can keep going, Nami…"

She smirked, sipping from her glass. "I forgot—you're a lightweight."

Luffy gave her a sleepy glare. "Am not…"

"Are too."

Nami grinned, stretching out on her side of the couch and propping herself up with an elbow. "Fine. I'll just take your shots for you, you pussy."

Luffy turned his head toward her with an exaggerated gasp. "Did you just call me a pussy?"

"If the shoe fits," she said sweetly, grabbing the tequila bottle and pouring herself half a shot with practiced ease.

Luffy narrowed his eyes. "That's mean."

"Not mean, just facts," she teased, then knocked back the shot and winced, letting out a little shiver.

Luffy watched her with a pout. "You're a mean drunk."

"I'm fun when I'm drunk," Nami corrected, leaning in just enough to steal a slice of his third pizza. "Besides, you're the one who almost set the kitchen on fire earlier. I've earned this pizza."

"You said it was our dinner," Luffy countered, though he didn't stop her. "And you're stealing my food and insulting me."

"Welcome to quality time with me," Nami said with a wink, leaning a little closer than before.

There was a brief, quiet pause, the movie still playing in the background but forgotten for the moment.

Luffy blinked slowly, his gaze flicking to her lips before returning to her eyes. "I feel really warm."

Nami giggled. "Well, there's a reason the saying goes, 'tequila makes your clothes fall off.'"

Luffy looked at her, then at his empty shot glass. "I need water."

Nami handed him a glass. "Here."

---

The credits for Eclipse had just rolled, and now they were deep into Breaking Dawn, Part One. The screen radiated with an intense, romantic atmosphere as Bella and Edward finally shared a moment of passion. Nami had kept her word, drinking Luffy's share of drinks while he stuck to water. While Luffy had sobered up quite a bit, Nami had only grown more tipsy.

Luffy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes widening as he stared at the screen. "Oh God, are they gonna have sex?"

Nami, visibly drunk, took another sip of her drink and grinned at him, her voice a little slurred. "Duh. That's what the whole buildup was for."

Luffy shifted again, still not quite comfortable with what he was seeing. "I don't wanna watch a sex scene with you. That's... weird."

Nami raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Relax. It's not that bad. They don't actually show anything. And it's short."

Luffy frowned and quickly looked away, clearly still uncomfortable.

Nami couldn't resist teasing him. "Aweee, Luffy. Are you really that shy?"

Luffy gulped loudly and avoided her gaze, his discomfort palpable. Nami noticed this and leaned closer, gently cupping his face in her hands to turn him toward her. "You know, it's just a movie. No one's actually doing anything. It's just... pretend," she said softly.

Nami gently turned his face back toward the screen, her hands still resting lightly on his cheeks. "See? It's already over," she said with a sly smile, watching the awkwardness fade from his expression.

Luffy blinked a few times, his eyes flicking between the screen and her. "That... was quick," he muttered, still a little uneasy, but visibly relieved it wasn't as bad as he'd expected.

Nami giggled, leaning back into the couch and sipping her drink. "Told you. It's just all about the buildup." She smirked, her gaze flicking to him with a teasing gleam in her eyes. "You were worried for nothing."

Nami leaned back, her smile playful but her eyes curious. "Seriously, Luffy. Why are you so awkward about all the romance stuff? I get it, you're not into dating, but you don't have to act like a kid about it. Have you ever even kissed anyone before?"

Luffy froze, his eyes widening slightly. The words hit him more than he'd expected, and he stammered for a moment before going quiet, not meeting her gaze.

Nami smirked, watching him closely as he went silent. "No way. No fucking way."

Luffy, feeling the heat of her teasing, snapped defensively, "What?"

Nami burst into laughter, nearly spilling her drink in the process. "You're twenty-two, and you've never kissed anyone? Oh, Luffy..." She shook her head, still chuckling. "You're such a kid!"

Luffy pouted at her, crossing his arms. "I'm not a kid!"

She continued to laugh, clearly enjoying herself. "You totally are! I mean, you should've seen your face when Sabo gave Koala that forehead kiss back when we were camping. You looked at him like he had cooties! Is that why you haven't kissed anyone? Do you think they've got cooties?"

Luffy's face flushed, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed her shoulders and leaned in, their faces just inches apart. "Stop it!" he protested, his voice quieter than he meant, his heart pounding from the sudden closeness.

Nami's laughter tapered off, her breath catching slightly as she met his gaze. Her drunken, half-lidded eyes studied him with a teasing smirk. "What? You don't like being called a kid?"

Luffy straightened up, his voice a little firmer, still visibly flustered. "No, I don't. Because I'm a man! I'm not a child—I'm an adult!"

"Oh? So you want me to see you as a man, Luffy?" Nami teased, her voice low and playful.

"Yes!" he blurted, surprising even himself.

Nami's eyes widened slightly, and the room fell still for a moment. She and Luffy held each other's gaze, the only sound the low murmur of the movie playing in the background. Her eyes drifted to his lips—full, a little chapped. Actually, pretty chapped. He could really use some chapstick. Then, slowly, she closed her eyes and leaned in, the air between them electric.

"Nami… What are you—?" Luffy stammered, breath catching in his throat.

"What the fuck are you two doing?"

Both of them jumped at the sound of Zoro's voice. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, one brow arched in judgment.

"Zoro!" Luffy grinned, completely unbothered. "You found your way back! I thought we'd have to send out a search party."

Nami, on the other hand, went red. Without missing a beat, she grabbed Luffy's face and rubbed at it exaggeratedly. "Come here, dummy. You've got crumbs all over your face—that's all I was doing. Getting the crumbs."

"Oh, really? Thanks, Nami," Luffy said cheerfully, completely buying the excuse.

Zoro just stared at them for another long second before walking in, muttering, "I should've stayed lost."

Zoro waltzed over to the coffee table, his eyes landing on the half-empty bottle of tequila on the table. Without hesitation, he grabbed it.

"Hey!" Nami protested, sitting up straighter. "That's not yours!"

Zoro gave her a flat look as he unscrewed the cap. "I had a long day," he muttered, then took a long swig straight from the bottle before slumping down into his usual recliner with a groan. Zoro's eyes then flickered to the TV. Then, with a deep frown creeping onto his face, he asked, "Are you two watching fucking Twilight?"

---

The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of Nami's room, catching the slight mess of notebooks, coffee mugs, and her laptop as she sat cross-legged on her bed. Her phone was propped up against a candle jar, Vivi's face taking up the screen as the two talked over FaceTime while Nami typed half-heartedly on a work report.

"Are you for real? You almost kissed him?!" Vivi shrieked from the screen, nearly jumping out of frame.

"Jesus, Vivi!" Nami hissed, scrambling to turn down the volume. "Scream for the whole world to hear, why don't you?"

Vivi didn't miss a beat, completely unbothered. "Oh, Nami, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this! I always knew you'd realize your feelings for Luffy eventually! Hear that, Koza? You owe me dinner!"

Nami blinked. "Wait—were you and Koza making bets about us?!"

Vivi just grinned smugly. "Maybe. But hold on—why didn't you kiss him?"

Nami groaned, collapsing dramatically into her pillows. "Zoro walked in. Of course he did. I panicked and made up some dumb excuse about wiping crumbs off his face." She sighed, dragging a hand down her face. "I think Luffy actually bought it. Zoro? Not so much. I've been too embarrassed to even leave my room, even though Zoro left this morning."

"Oh my God," Vivi said, clearly thriving off the chaos.

"What was I thinking?" Nami muttered, staring at her laptop screen like it had betrayed her. "Choosing tequila of all things for a drinking game. Like I was asking to humiliate myself."

"Well, what now?" Vivi asked, kicking her legs up onto her bed on the other side of the screen. "Are you gonna tell him how you feel or—?"

"No!" Nami said quickly, then softened it with a sheepish wince. "Absolutely not. I think it's just because we've been spending so much time together. Alone. It's proximity. Cabin fever. He's just… around a lot. I don't think it's anything real."

Vivi raised a skeptical brow.

"I'm serious!" Nami insisted, gesturing with her good hand. "I'm even considering going back to the office early—cast and all. That's how desperate I am. I even redownloaded Tinder."

"Oh?" Vivi's eyes lit up. "Anyone cute?"

Nami sank back against her pillows with a groan. "Not even close. Just some guy named Brent who sent me a picture of his grilled chicken dinner with the caption 'you could be dessert.'"

Vivi recoiled. "Ugh. Delete the app."

"No," Nami said flatly. "Look, I told you—this whole thing with Luffy? It's just some weird, passing attraction. We've been spending way too much time together. I need to redirect that feeling elsewhere. Preferably into someone who is actually interested in dating people."

Vivi tilted her head, skeptical. "You sure it's just a passing attraction? You tried to take his first kiss last night."

Nami narrowed her eyes. "I was drunk. But it doesn't matter. He's… Luffy. I'm not letting Luffy be my first boyfriend. That's dumb. Besides, Luffy's not into that kind of stuff anyway."

Vivi raised an eyebrow. "And yet he was two inches away from your face last night."

Nami let out a dramatic sigh and dropped her head into her hand. "You know him, he has no idea what the words 'personal space' mean."

"I'm just saying," Vivi said, her tone teasing but gentle. "You've gotta stop treating your feelings like some kind of glitch. I think you and Luffy would be really cute together."

Nami groaned. "It would ruin our friendship. Luffy's one of my best friends—I don't want to mess that up."

"And who says it would?" Vivi countered. "Koza and I have been friends since, like, forever. And now we've been dating for four years. If anything, our friendship got stronger."

"Vivi…" Nami said, her voice cautious.

"I know, I know," Vivi said quickly. "Take your space. Figure out what you're feeling. That's fair. But don't be scared of the idea just because it's unfamiliar. Luffy's a great guy. He really cares about you, you know? And it's a bonus that he's not ugly!"

Nami looked away, unsure.

"I'm just saying," Vivi continued softly, "he's already miles ahead of any Brent with a grilled chicken dinner. Just… think about that before you go settling for someone who can barely spell dessert."

Just then, a knock sounded at Nami's door.

She glanced up from her laptop. "Who is it?"

"It's Sanji! I brought you a snack!"

Nami perked up slightly. "Oh, come in!"

Sanji pushed the door open with his back, carefully balancing a small tray. "Who are you on the phone with?"

"Vivi," Nami replied, giving him a quick smile.

"Hi, Sanji!" Vivi chirped from the screen.

Sanji glanced at the phone and offered a little bow. "Vivi-swan! Always a pleasure to see your beautiful face—even virtually."

Vivi giggled. "Still charming, I see."

"Only for the loveliest ladies," Sanji said smoothly, setting the tray down on Nami's desk with a little flourish.

"Well, I need to get back to work," Vivi said through the screen. "Glad to hear your arm's feeling better—and the cast comes off next week, right?"

"Yup," Nami replied, stretching her fingers slightly.

"Okay, well—I love you. Think about what I said, seriously. Bye, Nami! Bye, Sanji!"

"Bye, love you!" Nami called back, waving at her phone.

"Take care, Vivi-swan!" Sanji added, offering one last dramatic wave as Vivi's face disappeared from the screen.

Nami sat up straighter and reached for the tray he'd brought in. "Okay, what is this?"

Sanji gave her a proud little smile. "Just try it first."

She eyed the small, elegant cake, then stuck her fork into it. The moment it hit her tongue, her expression lit up with delight. "Oh my god—this is amazing."

Sanji grinned. "It's a yuzu and black sesame chiffon cake. I've been experimenting with different flavor profiles for the cook-off. Trying to stand out a bit."

"Well," Nami said between bites, "this definitely stands out. In the best way."

Sanji beamed. "I'll take that as the highest compliment."

He settled onto the edge of her bed with a casual sigh. "By the way, I gave Luffy a good ass whooping this morning. He did a number on my poor kitchen last night."

Nami winced with a small laugh. "Yeah… I can't really say anything. I was part of the chaos."

"That why you've been holed up in here all day?" Sanji asked, giving her a side glance. "It's Saturday—my one day off every week. We've all been hoping you'd come hang out. You can work out there if you want. I'm not mad at you, just at Luffy."

Nami looked away thoughtfully. "Is Zoro back yet?"

"No," Sanji said, narrowing his eyes. "Why? Did he say something? Do something? That idiot—I'll kick his ass."

"No, nothing like that," Nami said quickly. "He just… caught me in a really embarrassing moment last night."

Sanji chuckled knowingly. "Ah. That's what tequila'll do to you."

He stood up and picked up her now half-finished cake and laptop. "Come on, I'll carry these. You can meet me out there."

Nami smiled, her cheeks warming. "Thanks, Sanji."

---

The living room buzzed with quiet activity, the soft clicking of controllers filling the space as Chopper and Usopp sat cross-legged in front of the TV, fully immersed in their game.

Robin glanced up from the couch, a gentle smile forming on her face as she saw Nami walk in. "There you are. Hi, Nami."

Nami smiled back, her eyes sweeping the room. "Hey. Where's Luffy?"

Usopp paused the game and glanced over his shoulder. "You didn't hear? When Chopper got back from his shift this morning, he gave Luffy's hands the all-clear. He went into work."

"Oh," Nami said, trying to sound nonchalant, though her voice faltered slightly.

Sanji, who had been adjusting the couch cushions with unnecessary precision, perked up. "Here, Nami," he said, stepping aside with a flourish. "Got your spot all set."

She smiled, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Sanji."

Robin looked up from her notebook with a subtle smirk, her tone teasing. "And since you're clearly wondering where everyone else is… Zoro's at the dojo now, and Jinbe's still at that judo competition. He should be back Tuesday. And Franky's still asleep. He got back around dawn after searching for Zoro all night—only to find out Zoro was already home and didn't bother telling anyone he made it back safe."

Nami groaned. "Of course he didn't. I'm sorry, I should've texted the group chat when he came back."

"Don't worry about it. Sounds like you were having a fun night in, from what I heard," Robin said with a wink.

Nami's face flushed instantly. Robin just smirked, her mind briefly drifting back to that morning.

She had been standing in the kitchen with a mug of coffee when Zoro wandered in, disheveled and bleary-eyed, wearing only boxers. He grunted and poured himself a cup.

"You know," Robin said casually, not looking up from her cup, "a text saying you made it home would've been nice."

Zoro jumped slightly. "Jesus, Robin. Do you have to sneak up on people like that? It's freaky."

Before she could reply, the front door opened, and Chopper stumbled in, clearly exhausted from his overnight shift. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his med kit on the counter like it weighed a ton.

"Good morning, Chopper," Robin greeted warmly.

"Morning, Robin…" he replied, barely keeping his eyes open as he slumped into the chair next to her.

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "First overnight shift kick your ass?"

Chopper just nodded, letting his face fall onto the table.

"That's my man," Zoro said with a small grin. "Look at you go."

Moments later, Luffy burst in, full of energy, wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. "Is that Chopper I hear?"

"Good morning, Luffy," Chopper mumbled.

"Hey Chopper, can you check my hands? They feel way better now!"

Chopper let out a long sigh. "You said that last time, and they weren't healed yet... But fine, let me see."

Luffy held out his hands. Chopper inspected them for a moment, then nodded. "Actually… this time, you're right. I'd say they're good enough for you to go back to work."

"Woohoo!" Luffy cheered, throwing his hands in the air.

"Congrats," Chopper muttered—before promptly passing out in the chair, making Robin chuckle behind her coffee mug.

Zoro gave Luffy a side-eye. "You're not planning to spend all day with Nami again, are you?"

"I mean, I could," Luffy said with a shrug. He turned toward Chopper again. "Hey, Chopper—oh, he's asleep already."

Luffy started to reach out to wake him, but Zoro smacked his hand away. "Let the poor kid sleep. He actually worked last night. Unlike you, sucking face with the witch."

"Sucking face?" Luffy blinked. "What's that?"

Robin's brow lifted, intrigued. "Oh?"

Zoro scoffed. "What else would you call what I saw last night? You guys were clearly about to kiss."

"Oh, no! We weren't gonna kiss or anything," Luffy said quickly. "Nami was just being nice and wiping crumbs off my face."

Robin arched an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Crumbs, huh?"

"Yeah! Why? What made you think we were kissing?"

Zoro sighed heavily, sipping his coffee. "Whatever. I guess it's not my business." He set his mug down and turned to leave. "I'm going to the dojo."

Luffy turned to Robin. "What's up with him?"

Robin just giggled into her mug. "Who knows?"

Her memory faded as Chopper's voice pulled her back to the present.

"I'm excited for Wednesday!" Chopper said, pausing his game. "Brook gets back, and we all get to watch Sanji's cook-off!"

Robin nodded, flipping a page in her notebook. "Then Thursday, your cast comes off. Busy week for us."

Nami let out a long breath as she settled into the couch. "Busy's an understatement."

Nami glanced over at Robin and leaned in, her voice low. "Look, whatever Zoro told you, I guarantee it didn't happen."

Robin raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile still plastered on her face. "Zoro didn't tell me anything. All I heard from Luffy is that you were being a good friend last night… making sure his face was clean."

Nami groaned softly, flopping her head back against the couch cushion. "You know, sometimes I hate having so many roommates. Everyone gets wind of everything way too fast."

Robin chuckled, flipping her pen in her hand before setting it gently in the crease of her notebook. "But, if something did happen… or even if nothing happened and it's just feeling complicated, I want you to know I'm here if you ever want to talk."

Nami looked at her, surprised by the softness in her voice.

"It's been a while since we had a proper girls' night. Or even just girl talk," Robin continued, offering a warm smile. "I'm always here for you, Nami. Us girls have to stick together in this crazy, testosterone-run house."

Nami's tense shoulders relaxed a little, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Thanks, Robin."

Robin winked, picking her pen back up and tapping it against the edge of her notebook. "Anytime."

Just then, from the other side of the living room, Usopp let out a victorious cheer. "Yes! Finally beat that level! Take that, lava boss!"

Chopper raised his arms triumphantly too, even though he hadn't been much help. "We make a great team!"

---

Time had flown by, and before they knew it, Wednesday was here. Jinbe had returned late the night before, proudly carrying a first-place trophy from his judo competition—something that earned him plenty of congratulations and celebratory pats on the back from everyone.

Today was a big day: Brook was coming home from tour, and Sanji had his much-anticipated cook-off with Pudding scheduled for later in the evening. Jinbe decided to close the martial arts studio for the day, opting to stay home with Nami. Once Brook texted that he'd be back in an hour, Zoro and Franky left work early to help move his gear back inside. Unfortunately, they were the only ones able to get the day off. Even Sanji, despite the pressure of the cook-off, had been at the Baratie since five in the morning, working through recipes with Zeff.

The front door creaked open as Brook stepped in with a familiar flourish:
"Yohohoho~! I have returned from the land of loud amps and lukewarm hotel breakfasts!"

Behind him, Jinbe followed calmly, carrying two of Brook's instrument cases like they weighed nothing. Franky trailed with a stack of stage clothes in garment bags slung over one shoulder. Zoro, already sweaty and clearly annoyed, was wrestling with a massive amp that nearly engulfed him.

"Can we talk about how this guy owns more accessories than any of the girls in the house?" Zoro muttered, almost tripping over a stray boot in the doorway.

Nami didn't look up from her yoga pose, one arm planted on the mat while the other—still in a cast—rested awkwardly at her side. "Hey, he's fabulous. Let him live."

"Speaking of fabulous," Zoro shot back, "maybe you could help instead of doing… whatever that is."

"I'm still crippled," Nami replied flatly, raising an eyebrow. "And besides, even if I wasn't, lifting is a man's job."

Zoro scoffed. "I thought you were a feminist?"

"I am," she said, stretching her leg out dramatically, "until manual labor is involved."

Franky let out a booming laugh. "That's super convenient!"

Across the room, Uta flopped onto the couch like a ragdoll, her oversized hoodie swallowing her up. "Where's Luffy? I wanted him to show me those disgusting bug pictures he keeps sending me."

"He's at work," Jinbe rumbled, setting the last case down carefully in the corner. "Something about cataloging new specimens."

Uta groaned. "Ugh. Lame. He better come home with something gross."

"You're all free to help carry the last of the stuff in," Jinbe added, shooting Zoro a meaningful look.

Zoro sighed and turned around. "Why do I feel like I'm the only one actually doing any lifting?"

"Because you are," Nami replied sweetly, adjusting her balance and trying not to wince as her weight shifted.

Brook floated past her, scarf in hand. "Miss Nami, you're looking radiant as ever. I see the cast has done nothing to dull your charm!"

"Thank you, Brook," Nami said with a grin. "Nice to know there's at least one gentleman left around here."

"And if you would be so kind as to show me your pant—"

Nami launched her yoga mat at his head before he could finish.

Uta cackled from the couch. "How did you survive a whole month with that?" Nami asked, shaking her head.

Uta shrugged. "Plenty of girls on tour were showing him their panties. He was probably getting his daily quota in. Plus, I got a break when we went camping with you guys."

"Speaking of," Uta added, "when does the cast come off?"

"Tomorrow," Nami said, exhaling with relief. "I cannot wait."

"You gonna keep it? Like a souvenir?"

"Absolutely not. It's going straight in the trash. They're also removing the stitches, thank god. I already bought scar oil to help with the marks."

"Very on brand," Uta said, grinning.

Uta stretched her arms over her head with a dramatic sigh. "Well, I gotta head back to the studio. My agent wants to start brainstorming the next album. Tell Luffy I said hi, I guess." She glanced at Jinbe and Nami, then made her way to Brook, arms outstretched.

She pulled him into a hug. "It was an honor having you on tour with me, Soul King."

Brook chuckled softly, returning the embrace. "The honor was all mine. Thank you for letting this old man rock out again."

Uta stepped back, grinning. "Next tour I go on, you're gonna be my opener. For the whole thing."

Brook blinked. "The whole tour?"

She nodded with a sly smile. "Yup. No more just one-month runs. You better start prepping for two years straight of loud crowds, weird hotel beds, and never knowing what city you're waking up in."

Brook threw his head back in a delighted laugh. "Yohohoho! My, you're taking me back to the times of my youth! I haven't felt this alive since the Grand Line circuit!"

Franky let out a whistle. "Two years, huh? That's super hardcore."

"Gotta keep things fresh," Uta said, already walking toward the door with her hoodie sleeves flapping. "And Brook keeps the crowd hyped like nobody else."

Everyone followed her out to the driveway, where the glossy tour bus was parked. The driver gave a small wave as he climbed into the front seat. Uta turned around on the steps, flashing one last grin.

"Alright, later losers!" she called, throwing up a peace sign.

"Safe travels," Jinbe added with a wave.

"Tell Luffy to send me his grossest bug next time!" Uta shouted just before the bus doors closed with a hiss.

The engine rumbled to life, and they all stood there for a moment, watching as the tour bus pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.

Brook sighed with a soft, nostalgic smile. "Two years… guess I'd better start restringing my instruments."

Zoro clapped a hand on his bony shoulder. "You sure your bones can handle two years of that chaos?"

"My bones have survived far worse," Brook replied cheerfully. "Besides, chaos is good for the soul."

Nami rolled her eyes playfully. "If you even have one."

Brook wagged a finger. "I do, and it's deeply funky."

---

The hallway was a storm of movement—closet doors creaking open, hairdryers humming, hangers clattering. Evening sunlight filtered through the windows, casting warm stripes of gold across the hardwood floors as the house buzzed with pre-event energy.

In his room, Usopp stood in front of a mirror, meticulously lint-rolling his blazer like it was a red carpet premiere. He peeked out into the hallway. "Are we sure we all want to go to Big Mom's house? Like, actually a hundred percent positive?"

From down the hall, Zoro's voice rang out, "Quit being a pussy. We all decided to go, even if it is for the stupid love cook."

"I HEARD THAT!" Sanji's voice exploded from his own room, where the sound of hairspray and swearing could be heard in equal measure.

"Yeah, well you were meant to!" Zoro fired back without missing a beat.

"Will you shut the fuck up for five seconds, mosshead?!" Sanji yelled again, this time louder.

"No, you first!" Zoro shot back, practically grinning as he adjusted his collar in the mirror.

"YOU BOTH SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'LL MAKE YOU!" Nami's voice echoed over all of them like a thunderclap, sharp and terrifying enough to momentarily silence the chaos.

A beat of silence.

Then, from the bathroom, Robin's calm voice floated out like incense smoke "Thank you Nami!"

Chopper peeked out of his room, trying to adjust his tie in the hallway mirror, his expression anxious. "Do you think they'll actually fight at Big Mom's house? Because I can't handle that level of tension right now. I'm sweating through my shirt already."

Jinbe, dressed in a crisp dark shirt and slacks, passed by and clapped a reassuring hand on Chopper's shoulder. "If they do fight, we leave them there."

"That's fair," muttered Franky, walking by in a slick electric-blue suit, sunglasses already on despite the sun setting. "And super deserved."

Brook, fully dressed in a flamboyant but classy black suit with a paisley scarf, shuffled out of his room and twirled a cane for dramatic flair. "Shall we be off soon, or do we wait for another round of screaming?"

"Hopefully there's wine at this thing," Nami muttered as she stepped out of her room, stunning even with a silk wrap covering the cast. "I'm gonna need it."

Robin followed her shortly after, calm and elegant as ever, slipping on a pair of earrings. "There's always wine at Big Mom's. The question is whether or not we'll be allowed to leave after drinking it."

"Cool, love that for us," Usopp said, giving himself one last check before walking into the hall. "Let's hope we don't end up on the menu."

Luffy came barreling down the stairs in a button-up shirt that was somehow already untucked on one side. "Wait, is it fancy? Are we supposed to be fancy?! Nobody told me that!"

"You're fine," Nami said, grabbing his sleeve and trying to tuck it back in. "Just stop moving for two seconds."

"I don't want to be late! What if the food's gone?!"

Sanji appeared from his room at last, wearing a sharp black vest and crimson tie, looking polished and—more importantly—tense. "The food won't be gone. I'm the one making it."

"Right," Luffy grinned. "Then we're definitely getting seconds."

Zoro rolled his eyes. "Only if he doesn't set the kitchen on fire trying to impress Pudding."

Sanji flipped him off without looking. "Eat shit, marimo."

"Not on the menu, love cook," Zoro smirked.

Brook turned to Nami as they all started heading to the door. "Do you think it'll be a bloodbath or a buffet?"

She sighed, smoothing her dress with her good hand. "Knowing our crew? Both."

---

Franky's truck rumbled down the long private road, tires crunching over polished gravel that sparkled faintly under the setting sun. The trees lining the path were unnaturally symmetrical, pruned to eerie perfection, and the air felt heavier the closer they got. And then, through the final curve of hedges and iron-wrought gates, Big Mom's estate came into view.

It was less of a house and more of a palace—lavish, overwhelming, and absurdly massive. Spiraling towers loomed above a central chateau that gleamed in pastel tones, as if someone had fused a royal palace with a candy shop and a gothic cathedral. Every window had gold trimming, and bizarre, living gargoyle-like statues lined the rooftop, their eyes glowing faintly as if watching. The front lawn was an expanse of marble walkways, bubbling fountains shaped like teapots, and strange, colorful flora that looked more decorative than natural.

Everyone in the truck leaned toward the windows at once, mouths slightly open.

"Holy shit," Usopp whispered, eyes wide. "Is that building breathing?"

Robin tilted her head slightly. "Not breathing. Just... pulsing. Fascinating."

"Big Mom doesn't do anything small, huh?" Franky muttered, adjusting his sunglasses.

Zoro crossed his arms. "Place looks like Willy Wonka started a cult."

Nami snorted. "Yeah, and we're the sacrifices."

Sanji sat stiff in the front seat, his hands clenched into fists on his knees, jaw tight as he stared up at the estate. "It's just a cookoff," he murmured to himself. "Just a cookoff."

As they neared the estate's towering front gates, a pair of heavily armed guards stepped out and signaled for Franky to stop. Dressed in matching white-and-red uniforms, they looked more like elite soldiers than house staff.

"Everyone out," one said flatly.

They filed out of the truck, a few muttering complaints as the guards circled them with scanners. One by one, they were checked for weapons or "contraband." Zoro's swords were, unsurprisingly, the first thing flagged.

"Really?" he grunted as they lifted them from his back.

"No weapons allowed past the inner gates," one guard said without a hint of humor.

Zoro scowled. "What if dinner turns into a bloodbath?"

"It won't," Nami said, kicking him lightly in the shin.

Usopp got a slingshot taken. Franky had to surrender a wrench he forgot was in his jacket pocket. Chopper sheepishly handed over a multi-tool he kept "just in case," and even Luffy—somehow—was found with a pocketknife that no one remembered giving him.

"I was gonna cut apples with it!" Luffy protested.

Sanji was clean. His hands were still shaking.

After the last scan, one of the guards gave a curt nod. "You're clear. Proceed to the front."

Everyone piled back into the truck as Franky revved it up the last stretch of winding path. They pulled into the circular driveway in front of the grand entrance, where wide stone steps led up to giant double doors carved with sugary-looking motifs—flowers, teacups, and in the center, a stylized carving of Big Mom herself.

Standing there at the top of the stairs was Zeff, clean-cut in his chef whites, arms folded proudly as he looked down at them. Behind him, a small contingent from the Baratie stood in crisp uniforms, beaming and fidgeting in anticipation.

Sanji opened the door slowly and stepped out first. Zeff raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

Then, a valet in a candy-striped vest and pristine gloves approached Franky's window.

"Keys?" the valet asked, voice calm but no-nonsense.

Franky blinked at him. "You sure you know how to drive this beast?"

"I've parked tanks before, sir."

Franky whistled, handed over the keys, and watched with a smirk as the valet climbed in and expertly shifted the truck into motion, driving it off toward a side garage.

Everyone stood in the shadow of the estate now, the size of it making even the tallest of them feel a little smaller.

"Okay," Sanji said, straightening his tie one last time, trying to look like he wasn't on the verge of throwing up. "Let's do this."

---

The grand double doors groaned open on their own, revealing a vast entrance hall drenched in velvet red and gold. Everything sparkled—the chandeliers, the marble floors, even the railings. A line of Charlotte siblings, all dressed like they were attending a royal gala, stood like a welcome committee along the edges of the room. And at the far end, seated like a monarch on an oversized, baroque throne shaped like a teacup, was Big Mom herself.

She was larger than life, both literally and in presence. Draped in an opulent dress made of layered silks that looked like frosting, she wore a wide-brimmed hat and dozens of jeweled rings. Her wide grin didn't quite reach her eyes as she leaned forward, watching them approach like prey.

"WELL, WELL," she boomed, voice echoing off the high ceilings. "LOOK AT THIS RAGTAG BUNCH. YOU MUST BE THE COMPETITION."

Everyone froze mid-step.

Chopper clung to Robin's arm like a frightened child. Usopp looked like he might pass out. Brook gave a nervous bow and immediately adjusted his tie. Franky raised a stiff hand in greeting. Nami swallowed hard but kept her chin up. Only Zoro, Jinbe, Sanji, and Luffy kept walking at a steady pace.

"Ma'am," Jinbe greeted with a respectful nod.

"Thanks for having us," Luffy said flatly, eyes locked with hers.

Big Mom's grin widened. "Ahh… Garp's grandson. What a small world." Her gaze sharpened. "Still full of fire. I remember you from the last time I had a run in with your grandpa. You were just a kid though, I doubt you remember."

The tension in the room shifted. Charlotte siblings exchanged glances. A few subtly reached for their phones or earpieces.

"I remember you," Luffy said, voice cool. "Still chewing on anyone who gets in your way?"

Zoro muttered under his breath, "Here we go."

From the side, a tall figure stepped forward—lean, sharp, and imposing even in a sleek tailored suit. Katakuri. His gaze found Luffy's, and the energy in the room dropped ten degrees.

"You should know better than to speak to our mother that way," Katakuri said, calm but dangerous.

Luffy didn't flinch. "I speak however I want."

"Try that again when you're not a guest in our house," Katakuri replied, hands still in his pockets.

Before things could escalate, Sanji stepped forward with a nervous but charming smile. "Let's all relax. We're here for a cookoff, not a war."

Big Mom cackled, loud and echoing. "AH-HAHAHA! TRUE ENOUGH! LET'S NOT SPOIL THE FUN!"

From behind the crowd, Pudding made her entrance, stepping delicately down the stairs. Her dress was simple compared to the rest—soft blue, floral embroidery at the hem, hair tucked back with a pearl clip. She practically glowed.

"Hi everyone!" she said sweetly, voice like honey. "Welcome to our home! I hope the ride wasn't too stressful."

Sanji turned to her and visibly melted, hearts practically forming in his eyes. "Mademoiselle Pudding! You look divine tonight!"

"Oh, stop it," she giggled, waving him off playfully. "You're too kind."

The rest of the group visibly relaxed. Even Nami gave a small nod of approval. Chopper shyly waved. Usopp whispered to Robin, "She seems way too sweet for this family."

"She's playing her part well," Robin whispered back.

A group of Charlotte siblings—Oven, Daifuku, and a few others—stepped forward then, smiling politely.

"Sanji," one of them said, "we'll show you to the kitchen. You'll want time to prep."

Sanji nodded, adjusting his tie again, trying not to look nervous. "Right. Let's get to it."

As he followed them down one of the side halls, Pudding's smile lingered for just a second before she turned to the group with a very different expression—eyes sharp, lips curled into a smirk.

"Oh, by the way," she said casually, "Sanji's going to lose tonight. Miserably. And I'm going to enjoy ripping that pretty little ego of his to shreds. It's only a bonus that I get the storefront at the end."

Silence.

She turned and walked off down another corridor, humming softly to herself.

Everyone stared after her, frozen.

"Did she just—?" Usopp blinked.

"Yup," Nami said flatly.

"She seemed so nice!" Chopper squeaked.

Robin crossed her arms. "A classic mask. Fascinating, really."

Brook blinked. "My dear, that was chilling."

Only Zoro, Jinbe, and Luffy remained unfazed.

"Called it," Zoro muttered.

Jinbe nodded once. "She's sharper than she lets on."

Luffy shoved his hands in his pockets, frowning slightly. "Sanji's gonna be fine."

They all turned toward the hall where Sanji had disappeared.

"Still," Nami said slowly, "maybe someone should've warned him his competition was a psychopath."

---

The grand dining hall of Big Mom's estate had been transformed into a culinary arena. The long, elegant room sparkled with golden light, chandeliers glittering above velvet-draped tables arranged in a semi-circle around two sleek, open-concept kitchen stations at the front. The entire setup looked like something off a televised cooking show—stainless steel counters, hanging utensils, glass bowls glinting under spotlights, ovens preheated and humming.

At the very center of the room, Big Mom sat alone on an elevated dais at a private circular table, looking like a queen at court. Her throne-sized chair was upholstered in royal purple, her table decked out with extravagant centerpieces of spun sugar and floral arrangements crafted from candy. A plate and utensils gleamed in front of her—pure gold, of course. She sipped from a goblet filled with something thick and red, probably not wine.

The guest tables were mixed deliberately, seating both Sanji's crew and the Charlotte family together in neat, calculated chaos.

At one table near the front, Nami sat gracefully with Lola and Chiffon, the twin sisters chatting excitedly. Next to Chiffon was her husband Bege, gruff in a dark pinstripe suit, his arms crossed and his cigar unlit. His right-hand man, Vito, lounged beside him, adjusting his sunglasses and occasionally whispering something under his breath with a wicked grin.

"Sanji's got this," Nami said with a sip of water, though she kept sneaking glances toward the kitchen with mild anxiety.

"I hope so," Chiffon said with a tight smile. "Pudding's been... intense lately."

"She's always been intense," Lola muttered.

At a table further back, Usopp and Chopper sat beside Paddy from the Baratie, who was already nervously twisting a napkin in his hands. Across from them were Charlotte Amande, her sharp features unreadable, Opera, who was sweating profusely despite the AC, and Mont-d'Or, nose buried in a leather-bound book even while seated.

Usopp whispered, "Should we be this close to someone named Opera?"

Chopper, wide-eyed, whispered back, "What's in that book, do you think? Recipes? Spells?"

Paddy groaned quietly. "I should've stayed back in the kitchen…"

At another table, Jinbe sat comfortably with Praline, the shark-toothed Charlotte daughter who kept laughing heartily, and Aladdin, her equally toothy husband and Jinbe's long-time friend. Brook was there as well, looking dapper and calm, sipping his drink with a practiced air.

"This will be quite the show," Brook said. "I do hope dessert involves flambé."

Praline grinned. "I'm rooting for Sanji! I like his fire."

"Let's hope his fire survives the family," Aladdin added dryly.

Toward the opposite side of the hall, Robin and Zoro were seated with Charlotte Brûlée, her mirror-like compact resting on the table beside her, and Charlotte Compote, who looked vaguely bored but was sipping tea like royalty. Robin smiled politely, Zoro looked like he couldn't care less.

"I feel like they're watching us more than the food," Robin said softly.

"They blink yet?" Zoro asked, cracking his knuckles under the table.

Franky had been split off on his own table with Charlotte Daifuku, who kept polishing a gold ring on his finger, Charlotte Snack, who was nervously tapping the table, and Charlotte Galette, who stared down at Franky's blue hair like it was personally offensive.

"So," Franky said with a grin, "who here likes engine grease?"

And at one of the closest tables to the kitchens, Luffy sat stiffly beside Zeff, who looked just as unimpressed as he was serious. Across from them were Katakuri, looming and quiet, Cracker, who kept inspecting his nails, and Smoothie, legs crossed and sipping on something fresh-squeezed.

Zeff leaned over to Luffy. "Don't start anything."

"I'm not," Luffy muttered. "Unless they do."

"You're doing the face," Zeff said.

Luffy leaned back and scowled harder.

A light chime rang through the room.

Up at the front, Baron Tamago stepped into the spotlight between the two kitchen stations, dapper in his egg-white suit and holding a vintage-style microphone.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," he said with a charismatic bow. "WELCOME TO ZE GREATEST CULINARY BATTLE OF ZE DECADE!"

Applause rang out across the room—some polite, some enthusiastic, some barely clapping.

Baron adjusted his glasses and continued. "Tonight, our two chefs will engage in an intense five-course showdown. Each round will test their technique, creativity, and soul as chefs!"

He held up a hand. "Zey will prepare enough for all of you, but in ze end—only one tongue matters."

He turned dramatically toward Big Mom, who raised her goblet in acknowledgment.

"She alone will decide who wins each course. Whomever wins the majority… shall be declared victor and receive ze grand prize: the storefront!"

A small murmur passed through the room.

"Round one shall be hors d'oeuvre, followed by a plated appetizer, salad, entrée, and finally… dessert." His eyes glinted. "Do not underestimate dessert."

"And now…" He gestured grandly toward the double doors at the back of the room. "Allow me to present our chefs!"

The doors swung open as Sanji stepped out in a crisp white chef's coat, tailored perfectly, collar popped, hands in his pockets. His hair was tied back, expression calm but serious.

Behind him, Pudding emerged in her own coat—soft pink with gold buttons, her hair done up, smile wide and sparkling.

They approached their stations, stopped, and gave each other a polite nod.

"Let's have a good match," Sanji said, ever the gentleman.

"Of course," Pudding said sweetly. "Try not to embarrass yourself."

Baron clapped his hands. "AND WITH THAT—LET ZE COOKOFF BEGIN!"

---

Round 1

The room erupted into applause again as both chefs turned to their stations and the timer on the wall began its countdown. The kitchen stations erupted into motion the second the round began. Sanji moved like a man possessed, coat flaring behind him as he tore through his prep—knives flashing, pans heating, ingredients laid out in flawless mise en place. He was fast, focused, and elegant. No wasted motion. Just precision.

Across from him, Pudding was no slouch. Her movements were sharper, snappier—like someone who had trained under a perfectionist and was now trying to outdo them. Her ingredients were pre-portioned in little pastel-colored ramekins. Her station gleamed, every surface untouched by mess. She chopped with meticulous control, stirring sauces with a calm smile, casting the occasional glance across at Sanji like she was already two steps ahead.

At Nami's table, Lola sighed heavily, her chin resting on her hand.

"I hope Mama plays clean this time…"

Nami blinked. "What do you mean?"

Bege, arms folded, grunted. "She never plays clean. Anytime she sets up one of these competitions, something always goes wrong—accidentally, of course."

"Rotten ingredients," Chiffon added, frowning. "Faulty burners, cracked mixing bowls, even stations 'mysteriously' moved during prep. Anything that gives Pudding an edge without making it look like cheating."

"But…" Nami frowned, looking toward the kitchens. "Sanji's too good to fall for that, right?"

Lola offered a tight smile. "If he's really as good as you say, then he'll adapt. He'll have to."

Back in the kitchen, Sanji was already starting to notice things going sideways.

His burner sputtered twice before dying completely. The pilot light refused to catch.

"The hell…" Sanji muttered, moving smoothly to a backup burner, only to find that one wouldn't hold temp either.

He pivoted, still focused, slicing cherry tomatoes for his hors d'oeuvre—a play on caprese skewers with handmade mozzarella and basil oil—when he discovered the mozzarella had gone sour.

His nostrils flared, but he didn't stop. "Fine," he muttered, "we'll go with plan B."

He swapped ingredients on the fly, switching to a different cheese from his reserve, tossing cubes into a pan to sear and crisp for a textural contrast. But when he opened the fridge for garnish—his fresh herbs were gone.

Stolen? Moved? Sabotaged? Didn't matter. He was already halfway through improvising again, but time was slipping through his fingers like sand.

Across the room, Pudding was plating already. Her hors d'oeuvre were dainty, precise, and artful: buttery puff pastry nests filled with whipped goat cheese, candied walnuts, and a balsamic fig reduction. They looked like they belonged in a magazine.

The countdown clock ticked down—ten seconds left.

Sanji scrambled to plate whatever he could salvage, but as he reached for the final garnish, his backup pan slipped off the counter. It clattered to the ground, oil splashing his shoe.

"Three… two… one—hands off!" Baron Tamago's voice rang through the speakers.

Sanji stood frozen, jaw tight, empty plate in front of him. Across the room, Pudding stepped back from her finished dish, cool and composed.

Baron clicked his tongue. "Mon dieu… Unfortunately, it seems one of our competitors was unable to plate in time."

The crowd buzzed, leaning in.

"By default… Miss Pudding is the victor of the first round!"

Cheers erupted from the Charlotte family's side of the room, clapping and hooting like a stadium.

Waiters in matching uniforms swept in and began delivering Pudding's hors d'oeuvre to the tables. As they were carefully placed in front of each guest, she walked to the front of the kitchen and bowed.

"For this first course, I created a bite that balances sweet and savory," she explained with a practiced smile. "Puff pastry nests, filled with a whipped chèvre and honey cream, topped with a candied walnut, a drizzle of fig-balsamic, and just a hint of citrus zest."

Guests murmured in approval, impressed.

But at Luffy's table, the plate sat untouched. He crossed his arms and pushed it gently aside with a pout.

"I'm not eating it," he said. "I'm only eating Sanji's cooking."

Across the room, Usopp, Chopper, Paddy, and a few others nodded in agreement.

"Me too," said Chopper. "No offense, but Sanji's food is just better."

"I didn't come here to eat fig cheese nests," muttered Usopp.

Even Brook gently pushed the plate back. "Food without soul isn't food at all, yohoho."

But Zeff, sitting beside Luffy, didn't move.

He raised a brow at Luffy. "Spoiled brat," he muttered.

Before anyone else could react, Sanji's voice cut through the murmurs.

"Absolutely not."

Everyone turned.

Sanji had stepped out from behind his station, eyes blazing, hair falling across his face as he pointed at Luffy's table.

"If I see you—or anyone else—not eating the food that was served, I'll come down there and shove it down your throats myself."

A stunned silence followed.

He continued, voice hard and unwavering. "I don't care if you came here for my cooking or not. Pudding is a chef, and she put her pride on that plate. You don't disrespect that. Not here. Not in my kitchen. You better clean that plate like it's the only damn food you've seen in weeks."

Everyone was wide-eyed. Even the Charlotte siblings looked surprised.

At the front of the room, Pudding stood frozen, her hand at her chest. She looked shocked—no one had ever defended her like that.

Then slowly, a small smile touched the corners of her mouth, her eyes a little glassy. She turned her head away before anyone could see.

The room was still reeling from Sanji's outburst. Eyes lingered on him as he stepped back behind his station, jaw set, expression unreadable.

With a slow, steady hand, he reached into the breast pocket of his apron, pulled out a slightly crumpled cigarette, and tucked it between his lips. The flick of a lighter followed, flame catching with a click. He exhaled the first plume of smoke like a sigh—calm, collected, focused.

Across the room, Oven abruptly stood from his table.

"Hey!" he barked. "No one's allowed to smoke in the house except the family!"

Heads turned again. Sanji didn't look up. He just held the cigarette between two fingers, tapping ash into a dish.

But before Oven could continue, Big Mom raised her hand without taking her eyes off Sanji.

"Let him."

Oven blinked. "But… Mama—"

"I said let him," she said with a smirk curling at the edge of her wide mouth. "I like his spunk. Let him smoke if he wants."

Oven sat down, still frowning, but said nothing more. A murmur rippled through the Charlotte siblings—no one argued when Big Mom made a call like that.

Baron Tamago stood again, brushing invisible lint from his pristine lapels. "Ahem! Thank you, Madame Charlotte," he said smoothly, then turned to address the room.

"Mesdames et messieurs, our next round will be a plated appetizer. While the rest of us enjoy the delicious pastry nests made by Miss Pudding, let the second round… begin!"

A soft chime rang, signaling the start.

---

Round 2

Sanji's demeanor shifted instantly.

Now, he wasn't just trying to win—he was adapting.

He'd figured it out during the first round. Pudding's ingredients were higher quality. Imported cheeses, pristine vegetables, top-shelf pantry goods. His? Sabotaged, for sure. The leafy greens were limp. Some of the seafood had been half-thawed and re-frozen. His oils were basic, acidic, too sharp.

But now he knew what he was up against—and Sanji was nothing if not a survivor.

He rolled up his sleeves higher, cigarette trailing smoke from the corner of his mouth, eyes sharp with new resolve. No more playing it safe.

He threw out half the ingredients from the initial plan, raiding what was still usable from his station. He leaned into his bistro roots—smoked paprika, caramelized onion, seared scallops, a deeply aromatic garlic confit he started on the fly, trusting his instincts and nose. He wasn't going to beat Pudding at presentation or polish. So he'd win on flavor. Soul. Technique.

Meanwhile, Pudding was calmly reducing a red wine glaze, her appetizer already half-plated with surgical elegance. She was making something bold and French—a duck mousse tartlet with microgreens, shaved truffle, and a port wine jelly.

She glanced at Sanji's station with faint curiosity, only to find him working with a kind of effortless flow that was impossible to ignore. Despite the sabotaged goods, he moved like the kitchen was his stage. Controlled chaos. Smoke curling around his face like he belonged there. Like nothing could stop him.

From the dining tables, more people were watching now—not just Pudding.

Robin leaned toward Zoro, murmuring, "He's switched tactics."

Zoro smiled faintly, eyes on Sanji. "Smart."

At Nami's table, Bege grunted approval. "He's got guts, I'll give him that."

Chiffon leaned over to Lola. "Do you think she's rattled?"

Lola looked at Pudding, then back at Sanji. "Maybe not rattled. But I think she's starting to take him seriously."

Back in the kitchen, the clock continued to tick down. Sanji was plating his dish—not with tweezers or precision—but with confidence, letting each element shine in a natural, deliberate way. A rustic scallop tartlet, set on an herbed chickpea purée, with blistered tomatoes and a drizzle of toasted chili oil.

The chime rang again, clear and decisive—signaling the end of Round Two.

Waiters swept forward with practiced precision, lifting the silver domes off each plate with synchronized flair. They carried Pudding's duck mousse tartlets first, artfully plated with truffle shavings and port wine jelly. Her voice was confident as she stood beside her station.

"For my plated appetizer, I created a savory duck mousse infused with cognac and black garlic, topped with a port wine gelée, and served in a flaky pastry shell. The garnish is a blend of microgreens with a balsamic glaze."

Applause followed—polite, if restrained. The Charlotte family clapped proudly, some already grinning like the round was in the bag.

Then came Sanji's plates, wafting warm, aromatic steam that curled through the air like a siren song. When the waiters lifted the domes, the room filled with the scent of roasted garlic, seared scallops, and chili oil.

Sanji stood casually, wiping his hands with a towel and speaking through the last curl of smoke from his cigarette.

"Seared scallop tartlet," he said, voice smooth. "Set on a bed of herbed chickpea purée, blistered cherry tomatoes, and a toasted chili oil drizzle. It's humble, but it hits."

There was a moment of stillness as the dishes were placed before the diners.

Big Mom lifted her fork slowly, the room holding its collective breath. She took a single, deliberate bite of Sanji's tartlet.

Chewed.

Swallowed.

Her eyes widened.

Then narrowed.

The room went deathly quiet.

"...Interesting," she said at first, voice low.

Another bite. She hummed. Then she smiled—not politely. Not diplomatically. She grinned.

"This is delicious!" she declared, her voice booming across the grand dining hall. She waved her fork toward Sanji. "This one's the winner. No question."

Gasps rippled around the room. The Baratie crew and Sanji's friends erupted in cheers. Luffy punched the air, laughing. Robin whooped. Usopp and Chopper high-fived, nearly knocking over their glasses. Zeff just crossed his arms and gave a subtle, proud nod.

Even Big Mom seemed surprised at her own reaction. "Been a while since someone else made food that actually impressed me. Not bad, blondie."

Pudding's smile faltered for just a fraction of a second.

Across the various Charlotte tables, the mood had shifted.

Murmurs started to rise.

"Did Mama just—pick someone else's dish?"

"She's never done that."

"He made that with compromised ingredients…"

"Maybe we underestimated him."

"No matter what happens next," whispered Charlotte Galette, leaning toward Perospero, "we can't let another one of his dishes reach Mama."

Perospero scowled and nodded. "Oui. No more screw-ups. Sabotage wasn't enough. We might need… more direct measures."

Back near the front, Baron Tamago cleared his throat with a polite cough, rising to speak.

"Mesdames et messieurs! With one round to Miss Pudding, and one to Mr. Sanji, we are now tied. We shall proceed to our third course: the salad round!"

A new chime rang.

---

Round 3

The third round—the salad course—was underway. Sanji wasted no time, knives flashing, tossing together a vibrant array of produce he had scouted from the most usable of his limited ingredients. Crisp fennel. Fresh citrus segments. A house-made vinaigrette he whipped up from scratch with nothing but instinct and flair. Everything was coming together beautifully—until the refrigeration unit at his station suddenly powered down, shutting off with a loud click.

Sanji's eyes snapped toward the unit. His prepped greens, neatly layered in chilled bowls, were inside.

"Damn it," he hissed, rushing over. The inside was already warming up, the temperature gauge blinking red. "They're gonna wilt."

He cursed under his breath. A quick glance over his shoulder caught several Charlotte siblings watching him from their table, too interested.

Thinking fast, Sanji improvised. He grabbed ice from his drink cooler and layered the greens in a mixing bowl, tossing them gently with the vinaigrette to cool them just enough before plating. Barely made it.

The bell rang—time's up.

Waiters swept in again. Dishes from both competitors made their way around the tables. Pudding's was a refined beetroot carpaccio with whipped goat cheese and edible flower petals.

Sanji's was a citrus and fennel salad with chili-roasted pistachios and a sesame-orange vinaigrette. It looked fresh. Light. Perfect.

Big Mom took one bite of Pudding's salad and nodded approvingly.

Then she tasted Sanji's.

She paused.

A slow smile crept onto her face.

"Well well… Seems like this chef's not just a one-hit wonder," she chuckled. "Delicious. Balanced. Bright. I declare the winner of Round Three… Sanji!"

The Baratie folks of the room exploded with cheers once again. Pudding's expression was unreadable, her smile tight, but her jaw clenched. The Charlotte family muttered more urgently now, casting annoyed glances at each other.

"He's won two rounds…" Galette whispered.

"This is bad," said Oven, scowling.

---

Round 4

As the timer started, the heat in the kitchen rose—literally and figuratively. Pudding approached Sanji at his station with a casual, fake-pleasant smile.

"Still think you have a chance?" she asked sweetly. "Two rounds won't save you. This is the big one. The entree."
Her tone dropped ever so slightly, coy and cutting. "You nervous?"

Sanji didn't even glance up, still flipping a pan. "Only thing I'm nervous about is how you manage to look this good and still be such a sore loser."

Pudding blinked.

Sanji turned to flash her a dazzling smile. "Try not to fall in love with me when I win this one too, sweetheart."

Pudding scowled and stalked off.

They both got to work. Sanji, despite knowing the Charlotte family was doing everything they could to sabotage him, moved with cool-headed focus. He was making a pan-seared duck breast with a blackberry wine reduction, served over parsnip purée.

Pudding plated an elegant saffron risotto with lobster tail and crispy leeks.

The bell rang. Dishes were prepared. Waiters stepped forward.

But just as one of the waiters neared Big Mom's table with Sanji's dish—

He tripped.

The plate flew into the air and crashed to the ground. Food splattered. Gasps echoed across the room.

Big Mom raised a brow. Sanji went rigid.

"Oh no…" said Chopper, horrified.

Baron Tamago stood. "It appears Mama cannot judge Sanji's dish. By default… the victor of this round is Miss Pudding!"

Cheers erupted from the Charlotte tables. Pudding tried to look gracious, but her smile was smug. Luffy slammed his fists on the table.

"That's not fair!" he shouted.

Before anyone could stop him, Jinbe stood up calmly and said, "If Mama is still willing, she can judge my plate. It's the same dish."

"Absolutely not!" snapped Perospero, jumping to his feet. "Who's to say you didn't alter it? It's compromised. Pudding wins!"

Sanji stared at his ruined dish on the floor. His fists trembled. He marched over to the waiter, grabbing him by the collar.

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled. "Wasting perfectly good food for what? A cheap trick? A dirty win?"

From her table, Smoothie scoffed. "What do you expect us to do? Eat it off the ground like dogs?"

Laughter erupted from the Charlottes—except for Katakuri, Lola, and Chiffon. They were watching in tense silence.

Then—

Luffy stood up.

Katakuri's brow twitched in surprise.

Luffy walked toward Big Mom.

The moment he stepped off his platform, guards immediately raised their weapons, red dots aimed at his chest. His friends shouted—Zoro started to stand, Robin held her arm out to stop him.

But Luffy didn't flinch. He made direct eye contact with Big Mom.

Then—

He sat down on the floor.

And started eating Sanji's ruined food.

"Still delicious," he muttered through bites. "Don't care if it's on the floor."

The room was stunned. Every single person froze.

Zoro, calmly, stood and walked over, sitting next to Luffy. He picked up a piece of duck breast, brushed it off with a napkin, and ate it without a word.

The Charlotte siblings scoffed and mocked again—except for those same three, who now stared at Luffy and Zoro like they were seeing something strange.

Sanji stood there, mouth open, completely silent. For once.

"…Idiots," he muttered, though his voice cracked. His chest was tight with emotion.

Baron Tamago stood, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Ahem. While… that concludes the entree round… let us now prepare for the final round—dessert."

Pudding strode up to Sanji, her voice sugar-sweet and mocking again.

"Well," she said, hands folded neatly. "Clearly, you've realized we don't play fair here."

She leaned in, her voice dropping.

"But don't worry. This round will be clean. I don't need help to beat you where it really matters—dessert. It's my specialty."

She smiled wider. "I'm looking forward to getting that storefront. Maybe after this, we'll even buy up your father's sad little floating diner… what was it called? The Baratie? Doesn't matter."

She patted his chest condescendingly. "Good luck. You're gonna need it."

She turned and sauntered back to her station.

Sanji's jaw clenched. But then he looked over at Luffy and Zoro still munching on his floor dish, and a flicker of a smile touched the corner of his lips.

He turned to face his station.

---

Round 5

The tension was palpable as the bell rang for the last time. A new timer counted down, ticking steadily toward the end of the competition. The crowd leaned forward in their seats. Pudding cracked her knuckles, rolling her shoulders like a boxer about to enter the ring.

"This is it," she muttered with a smirk. "Time to show you what a real dessert looks like."

Sanji didn't respond. He was already at his station, his focus razor sharp.

The kitchen bloomed with scent—melted sugar, warm spices, fresh cream. Pudding reached into her personal stash and pulled out a box of her specialty chocolates—imported, high-cacao, tempered to perfection. She began melting them with practiced ease, stirring with a grace and speed only a true chocolatier could manage.

Sanji, meanwhile, worked with delicate care on a trio of plated desserts—a cream puff, a brûléed tart, and a delicate quenelle of mousse to tie them all together.

Then—

A puff of black smoke.

Pudding froze. "No—no no no no—"

She looked down. The chocolate had burnt. The smell turned acrid, bitter. In her panic, she grabbed the pot to move it from the heat—

Sssszzzt!

"Aaahhh!" she yelped, instantly pulling her hands back. The pain shot through her fingers, and in the sudden motion, she lost her balance.

She slipped—

The pot teetered—

But before it could fall and scald her, a hand grabbed her waist, catching her mid-fall.

Another hand—Sanji's—grabbed the pot handle, holding it steady even as the heat seared into his palm.

For a moment, time paused.

Pudding looked up into Sanji's calm, concerned face.

"…Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice the picture of composure, despite his burning hand.

Pudding's cheeks flushed pink. She scowled and turned away. "I'm fine. Jerk."

Sanji helped her up. She winced, looking at her ruined pot of chocolate.

"Damn it… I'll have to start over."

She reached for the pot to dump it—

But Sanji stopped her hand.

"Wait."

He dipped in a spoon and tasted it.

His eyes widened, almost sparkling. "Holy hell… This is the best chocolate I've ever had."

Pudding blinked. "What?"

"If you're just going to toss it," he said, meeting her gaze, "may I use it?"

She stared at him. Then looked down. "…You want to use my burnt chocolate?"

"It's not burnt," he said. "It's caramelized. Deep. Beautiful." His voice softened. "Like you."

She turned a deeper shade of red and glanced away.

"…Fine. But only because I don't have time to start over anyway."

Everyone in the audience gasped. Murmurs spread like wildfire across the Charlotte family.

"Is he serious?"

"That's cheating!"

"He's using her ingredient?!"

But Big Mom raised her hand, silencing them. Her gaze was sharp, but not unkind. Zeff, arms crossed, gave a low chuckle.

"He's not cheating," Zeff said. "He's adapting. Like a real chef."

Big Mom nodded once. "Let them continue."

Sanji worked with delicate precision, incorporating Pudding's rich, complex chocolate into his dessert. It transformed the dish. Elevated it. He paired it with a chocolate shell filled with spiced ganache, candied citrus, and a small scoop of roasted banana gelato.

Pudding tried to salvage a last-minute backup dessert, but the pain in her hands and the dwindling time made it impossible. She had no finished plate to present.

The final bell rang.

Only one dish remained: Sanji's.

It was brought forward on a silver platter, placed reverently in front of Big Mom.

She took one bite.

And collapsed.

The room erupted in chaos.

"Did he poison her?!"

"Guards!"

Guns were drawn. Blades unsheathed. The Baratie crew leapt to their feet. Sanji didn't move, but his jaw clenched, ready for anything.

Then—

Big Mom stirred.

She sat up, dazed, dreamy-eyed.

"…That…" she said, breathless, "was the best dessert I have ever had in my life."

The tension snapped. Everyone froze again.

"I declare… this round a tie!"

"WHAT?!" cried out the roommates.

"A tie?!" Zoro echoed, visibly offended.

"That was his dish!" Nami protested. "Pudding didn't even present anything!"

Big Mom stood and walked to Sanji, still licking a bit of chocolate off her spoon.

"He used Pudding's chocolate, didn't he?" she said, smiling wide. "Then it was a collaborative dish."

She gestured expansively. "Sanji gets the storefront. But only on one condition—"

Sanji raised a brow. "…Which is?"

Big Mom grinned. "You share it. With Pudding. Make her your dessert specialist."

Pudding blinked. Sanji turned to her slowly, eyes wide.

The room was stunned silent.

Then from the back, Zeff laughed. "Looks like you're not gonna be flying solo after all, eggplant."

Sanji smiled, fire still dancing in his eyes despite the burn on his hand. He stepped forward and extended it toward Big Mom without hesitation.

"I accept your terms!"

Big Mom threw her head back in a booming laugh. "It's a deal!" she said, shaking his hand with surprising grace for someone of her size and power.

The entire room erupted into cheers. The Baratie crew whooped and clapped, Usopp jumped onto Luffy's shoulders, yelling something about "our boy doing it!" Franky flexed both arms and shouted "SUPER!" while Brook tried to play a celebratory tune on a fork and wine glass. Even Jinbe cracked a rare smile. Zeff grunted his approval from the back, though his proud eyes said more than words ever could.

Sanji turned then, eyes settling on Pudding. His smile softened, just a touch smug.

"Looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other," he said smoothly. "I look forward to it, darling."

He ended the line with a wink.

Pudding's entire face went bright red.

Her eyes turned to hearts.

Then—

"Kyaaa!" she squealed, staggering back as her knees gave out.

She fainted, right there on the banquet floor.

Lola gasped and rushed over, dramatically dropping to her knees beside her sister.

"Pudding! Are you okay?! Stay with us!"

Chiffon walked over more casually, peering down at her collapsed sister and twin.

"Ah, don't worry about it," she said, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. "It just looks like she got bit by a love bug is all."

The rest of the Charlotte siblings groaned in unison.

But Katakuri, standing in the back with his arms crossed, only shook his head with an amused hum. His gaze lingered on Sanji for a moment. For the first time, he gave the chef a subtle nod of respect.

As the chefs and family members bustled around, clearing the stage, Baron Tamago clapped his hands, voice ringing out across the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the competition has concluded! The storefront has been awarded—shared, in fact! Let us all give one final ovation to our brilliant chefs, Monsieur Sanji and Mademoiselle Pudding!"

Another round of applause broke out.

Sanji raised his hand in a quick wave, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery.

Then he looked back down at the unconscious Pudding, sighed fondly, and muttered:

"Mon dieu… She's gonna be a handful."

---

The soft hum of the stove and clink of utensils filled the air, joined by the comforting aroma of eggs, pancakes, and sizzling sausage. Sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, painting golden streaks across the hardwood floor as Sanji glided around the kitchen like he was dancing.

"Breakfast is served, mes amis!" he announced, spinning as he laid out the final dish.

The crew was scattered around the dining area in various states of waking up—Luffy was already halfway through his third plate, Usopp still had pillow lines on his face, and Robin was quietly sipping coffee, an amused smile playing on her lips.

Zoro, who had just wandered in and dropped into a seat with a grunt, squinted blearily at Sanji.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" he muttered, rubbing one eye.

Brook, sitting nearby and tuning his violin for no real reason, chimed in. "The restaurant, no doubt! Yohohoho!"

Sanji placed a delicate plate of food in front of Nami, giving her an extra flourish and a little bow. "Exactly!" he said, practically glowing. "Me, the old man, Pudding, and Big Mom are going to the bank this afternoon to close the deal and sign the business arrangement."

He leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel, clearly savoring every word as he spoke.
"Then we get to work on the menu… oh, mon dieu, the possibilities!" he sighed dreamily. "A whole day with the lovely Pudding. Every day with the lovely Pudding from this day onward…"

He turned, beaming even brighter. "And then—when I come home, my darling Nami's arm will finally be cast free!"

"It's a good day!" he finished, twirling the towel like a cape over his shoulder.

Chopper giggled from his spot next to Usopp, who was trying to eat while still half-asleep. "Wow, I've never seen him this chipper in the morning," Chopper whispered.

Nami, munching on toast with her good hand, raised a brow at him.

"Don't get any ideas. I'm not letting you carry me bridal-style through the living room just because I get my cast off."

"But Naaaamiii~" Sanji whined dramatically, swooning behind the counter.

Franky, still in a bathrobe and wearing sunglasses indoors, lifted a mug of coffee. "Yo, let the man have his moment. He just out-cooked an entire crime syndicate family and flirted his way into a business partnership."

Jinbe gave a low, approving hum. "Indeed. It was an impressive show of both culinary skill and diplomacy."

"And love," Robin added teasingly, sipping her coffee.

Sanji clutched his chest. "Mon cœur!"

Zoro, now awake enough to be irritated, rolled his eyes. "You're gonna burn the eggs at this rate, Romeo."

"I never burn anything in the kitchen," Sanji shot back smugly.

Luffy, still chewing, pointed with his fork. "You did burn your hand yesterday though!"

Sanji froze, smile stiffening. "That was a noble burn, thank you very much."

Robin gently set her mug down with a soft clink and tilted her head toward Nami. "Speaking of your cast, Nami… who's going to be taking you to and from the hospital?"

Nami perked up, brushing a crumb off her pajama pants. "Actually, one of Big Mom's kids. Lola! I was sitting at a table with her last night and we really hit it off. She's really sweet—super chatty, but in a fun way. I told her about the whole cast thing, and she said she'd be willing to take me."

Luffy's head snapped up from his plate, his cheeks still full of food. "What?! You asked me to do it just last week!"

Nami smirked, reaching over to grab her orange juice. "Yeah, but you're back at work now. You need to make money for rent."

Luffy slumped dramatically over the table. "Buuut I wanted to take you!"

"You also forgot my checkup appointment last time because you saw a praying mantis on the sidewalk," Nami shot back flatly.

"It was a huge mantis!" Luffy protested. "It looked like it was doing karate!"

Franky chuckled as he set down his empty mug. "Things are getting super connected around here. Us, friends with the Charlottes? Never thought I'd see the day."

"Don't lump us all in," Zoro said, stabbing a sausage. "I didn't like anyone at that damn dinner party."

Usopp glanced over at Luffy, a curious look on his face. "Hey, Luffy… didn't Big Mom say something last night about seeing you when you were a kid? Something about your grandpa? What was that all about?"

Luffy leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head as he spoke. "Yeah, when I was a kid, my grandpa used to drag me around all the time for 'training'—which just meant throwing me into danger and calling it a life lesson. We ran into all sorts of cool and dangerous people. Big Mom was one of them."

Chopper's eyes widened. "Wait—Big Mom? That's crazy!"

Luffy nodded. "Yep! That's actually how I met Shanks when I was little."

"Shanks?" Chopper blinked. "Like Uta's dad?"

"Yeah!" Luffy grinned. "Shanks is like a dad to me, too. He was always super cool, bought me food, told me stories, let me hang around his crew. 'Cause, y'know… my real dad wasn't around much."

Robin tilted her head. "Your father… that would be Dragon, right?"

"Mhm. But he was always busy with his undercover agent stuff, so I never really saw him," Luffy said, scratching his cheek. "Gramps really didn't like that I was getting close with Shanks. Said people like him were a bad influence. So eventually, he sent me off to live with Dadan and her gang. That's when I met Ace and Sabo."

Zoro snorted. "And the rest is chaos."

Luffy laughed. "The best kind!"

---

Nami sat on the padded exam table, swinging her legs slightly as she waited, her arm elevated on a small cushion. The clinic was quiet this morning, soft sunlight spilling through the high windows. Chopper stood nearby, gloved hands slightly trembling with excitement as he prepared to remove the cast from her arm.

"You ready, Nami?" he asked, eyes bright behind his glasses.

"As I'll ever be, Doc," she smirked.

Under the watchful gaze of Dr. Kureha, Chopper carefully went to work. The cast cracked and loosened under his tools, and he handled the process with a steady calm that seemed to surprise even himself. Within minutes, the hard shell was off, revealing Nami's healing arm beneath.

"Nice work, Tony," Kureha said, arms folded, a rare smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Go sanitize and finish logging Nami's chart. I'll handle the stitches."

"Yes, ma'am!" Chopper beamed and gave Nami a quick thumbs-up before scurrying out of the room.

Once he was gone, the room quieted. Kureha pulled a stool over and began working on removing Nami's stitches with practiced ease.

"So," she said after a pause, her tone lighter than usual, "you're one of Chopper's roommates, right?"

Nami nodded. "Yeah, I am."

Kureha sighed, "I never got to properly thank you all… for taking that brat under your wing."

Nami blinked. "Why? You're Chopper's mom, aren't you? If anything, we should be thanking you. You raised an amazing kid. Chopper is irreplaceable."

Kureha chuckled under her breath, her hands still steady as she worked. "That he is. Chopper's definitely my son—through and through. But truth be told… he's more like his father."

Nami tilted her head. "His father?"

Kureha nodded, eyes softening. "Yup. I don't know if he's told you, but Chopper's adopted. Actually… he's been adopted twice. The first time was by a quack doctor named Hiriluk. Madman, really. But a good one. He was a dear friend of mine. Hiriluk found Chopper when he was young, raised him until he was about twelve. The man was sick though—terminal cancer. He passed shortly after Chopper's twelfth birthday."

Nami's expression softened. "That's awful."

"It was," Kureha said simply. "But the boy was tough. After that, I took him in. Chopper was already determined to be a doctor by then. Obsessed with it. He studied like crazy, got into college at fifteen. Homeschooled up till then, never had a real friend his age. Honestly, the three years he lived with me were rough. We fought a lot."

Nami stayed quiet, listening intently.

"When he got into the university," Kureha continued, "I kicked him out. Told him if he was grown enough to chase a degree, he was grown enough to live on his own. Might sound harsh, but I had my reasons. He couldn't spend his whole life cooped up in my house buried in textbooks. He needed the real world. He needed people."

She paused, tugging gently at the last suture. "And I'm glad it worked out. You all… gave him something I couldn't. A place to belong."

Nami smiled. "He belongs with us. Always has."

Kureha gave a small grunt that sounded suspiciously close to affection. "Good. That's good."

The door creaked open as Chopper peeked back in, clipboard in hand. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect," Kureha replied, standing. "She's all yours."

Chopper grinned as he walked over, while Nami flexed her now free arm with a satisfied sigh. "Freedom never felt so good."

"You did great, Chopper," Nami said.

He blushed. "Thanks… I'm just glad it's healed right."

"Same here," Nami winked, nudging him gently with her elbow. "Say, you wanna get lunch with me and Lola? I'm craving something celebratory."

---

The three of them sat at a sunny outdoor café just off campus, shaded by a large red umbrella. A half-eaten sandwich sat in front of Nami, while Lola enthusiastically tore through a plate of loaded fries. Chopper nursed a smoothie, occasionally scribbling something into a tiny notebook he kept in his hoodie pocket—probably a study note or health tip.

"I gotta say," Lola said between bites, "I didn't expect the campus food to actually slap. I thought it was gonna be all sad salads and mystery meat."

Nami grinned. "You just haven't seen the Tuesday tuna surprise."

"Oh no," Lola deadpanned. "Don't ruin this for me."

Chopper laughed, setting his smoothie down. "She's right, though. Tuesdays are dangerous."

They shared a laugh, and for a moment, the conversation dipped into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with good food and good company. Then Lola leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"So, Nami," she said slyly. "You got any boyfriends?"

Nami blinked. "Huh?"

"I mean, I remember when I was your age—I was boy crazy. Had a new crush every week. What about you?"

Nami's face turned bright red. "N-No! I don't… especially not boyfriends, plural."

Chopper, ever helpful, nodded seriously. "Yeah, Nami's never had a boyfriend."

Nami shot him a betrayed look. "Chopper!"

"What?" he asked innocently. "It's true."

Lola's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! But you're a total knockout!"

Nami groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Can we not talk about this?"

Lola giggled, clearly having too much fun. "Come on, I'm just saying! You're smart, gorgeous, got that whole mysterious confidence vibe going on. Someone out there's gotta be head over heels."

"She's picky," Chopper said with a casual shrug. "She always says, if she's gonna date someone, they've gotta be worth it."

"Damn straight," Nami mumbled, hiding her face behind her hands.

Chopper added, a bit too cheerfully, "She is back on Tinder, though."

Nami's head shot up. "Chopper! Why are you airing out all my business?!"

Lola gasped dramatically. "Oh! So you are looking! Well, in that case, I could totally introduce you to a few of my brothers! Let's see—there's Mont-dor, Cracker, Katakuri—"

"No offense, Lola," Nami interrupted quickly, "but your family kind of terrifies me. I'm good."

Lola pouted. "Aw, come on. There's gotta be someone who's caught your eye. Who is it?"

Nami blushed, waving her hand dismissively. "Seriously, there's no one."

"You're lying!" Lola leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Come on, spill. It's just us girls!"

"Yeah, spill, Nami!" Chopper chimed in excitedly. "I'm one of the girls!"

"No, you're not!" Nami snapped, but she was smiling now.

She let out a sigh, poking at her food. "I guess… there is someone."

Lola leaned in closer. "Ooh! What's he like?"

Nami rolled her eyes, but her cheeks stayed pink. "…He's an idiot."

Nami groaned, running a hand through her hair. "He's… kind. And a little dense. He always knows how to make me laugh, even when I don't want to. He's stupidly brave. And… I don't know. He's got this way of making people feel safe. Like, even if everything's falling apart, if he's there, it'll be okay."

Chopper blinked slowly. His eyes widened.

He promptly spit his entire smoothie across the table—straight onto Nami's shirt.

"CHOPPER!" Nami shrieked, leaping to her feet as she tried to shake the sticky mess off her blouse. "What the hell?! This shirt was new!"

Chopper gawked, still in shock. "You're interested in Luffy!"

Nami turned bright red. "NO! No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!" Chopper pointed accusingly, as if this were a courtroom. "The guy you just described? That's exactly Luffy! It's totally him!"

Lola tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Luffy, Luffy… was he the one eating food off the ground at the party last night?"

Chopper nodded with mock wisdom. "Yeah, the one with the black hair. Not the green hair—that was Zoro."

"Ohhh, right!" Lola snapped her fingers. "I remember now. He was kinda cute. Didn't seem like the brightest bulb, though."

Chopper snickered. "You've definitely got a crush~."

Nami bristled. "No I don't!"

Chopper grinned mischievously. "Nami and Luffy, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—wait, ew! I don't wanna think about that!"

Bonk!

Nami smacked him lightly on the head with her spoon. "Will you shut up already?!"

Lola leaned in, grinning like she was about to spill tea. "Well then, why haven't you told this Luffy guy you've got the hots for him? You're gorgeous—there's no way he'd turn you down."

Nami groaned, covering her face. "God, I already told my friend Vivi this. It's just… a glitch. An emotional glitch. We were stuck together for like four weeks straight, way too close for way too long. My brain's trying to trick me into thinking I like him. That's why I need to find a real guy on Tinder. Someone with less chaos and more brain cells."

Lola tilted her head. "Mmm-hmm. And if it wasn't a glitch?"

Nami sighed. "Even then, it wouldn't matter. Luffy's not interested in girls."

"Oh?" Lola raised an eyebrow. "So he's gay? That's unfortunate for you."

"I don't know," Nami admitted. "But our whole house kinda thinks he's aromantic and asexual."

Chopper, chewing a piece of his sandwich, suddenly perked up. "Actually, Luffy's not asexual."

Nami's eyes shot wide. "What?!"

Chopper nodded, nonchalant. "Yeah. He said it during that camping trip at Dadan's place. We were all talking about stuff around the fire. The topic of Luffy's sexuality came up somehow. And then… his family told us way too much."

"Wait—what do you mean way too much?!" Nami asked, scandalized.

"You and Luffy were inside doing homework at the time," Chopper said, thinking back. "So you missed it. That's probably why you didn't hear."

Nami sat back slowly, her mind racing. "Wait… if he's not asexual, at least…"

Her cheeks flared as sudden flashes from their time together crashed into her thoughts:

Luffy frowing at her. "Yeah, but you look pretty without all the makeup. And in your glasses too. Why would you want attention from guys who are only interested if you're in heels and a dress?"

Then, later in the night. Luffy, tipsy and warm, his gaze flicking from her lips back to her eyes—"I'm really warm," he'd murmured.

Later, on the couch—his face flushed as he leaned in, gripping her shoulders. "Stop it," he'd said, his voice breathless and too soft, heart pounding.

Her own teasing smirk. "What? You don't like being called a kid?"

His flustered, almost desperate response. "No, I don't. Because I'm a man! I'm not a child—I'm an adult!"

"Oh? So you want me to see you as a man, Luffy?"

"Yes!" he'd blurted.

Nami snapped back to the present, blinking hard, her entire face red. "Oh my god," she whispered, mortified.

Chopper gasped. Lola leaned over the table like she was watching a telenovela.

"Girl," Lola said, voice full of drama. "You've got so much to unpack."

---

The clang of steel had long faded from the dojo. The air still buzzed faintly with the energy of sparring, but now only the quiet hum of fluorescent lights remained. Zoro wiped the sweat from his neck with a towel, the edge of his mouth tugging into a satisfied smirk.

"Good work," Mihawk said, standing at the edge of the sparring floor, arms crossed. "You're getting better. But you've still got a ways to go."

Zoro nodded, tossing the towel over his shoulder. "Yeah, I know." He sounded confident, not cocky—there was always more to learn. And from Mihawk, that was high praise.

He headed to the locker room, showered quickly, and changed into his usual jeans and a black tee, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. He was just about to hop on his bike out front when he noticed someone sitting off to the side, half-hidden in the fading light of the late afternoon.

Tashigi.

She was perched on the edge of the low brick wall, uniform jacket crumpled beside her, her sword laid across her lap. She didn't look up when he approached—just stared down at the blade, her expression tight.

"Why?" she muttered, her voice low but sharp, cutting through the quiet. "Why is it that you always seem to get better, while I stay at the same level?"

Zoro slowed, brow furrowing. "Tashigi—"

"I train just as hard," she said quickly, gripping the scabbard in both hands. "I study more. I've got technique, discipline. I follow the book. So why do you keep moving ahead and I'm stuck right where I was a year ago?"

He stayed silent for a second, watching her. The frustration in her voice was raw, real—not just about swords, but everything that pride and self-worth wrapped around them.

Zoro stepped closer and lowered his bag to the ground.

"You're not stuck," he said simply. "You're just looking too hard in the wrong direction."

She finally looked up, eyes sharp behind her glasses. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're always comparing yourself to me. Or Kin'emon. Or anyone but you." Zoro shrugged. "That's the fastest way to stay stuck."

Tashigi's jaw clenched. "That's rich coming from you. You never shut up about beating Hawk Eye and taking the dojo from him. You walk in here and measure yourself against him every damn day."

Zoro shook his head. "It's not him I measure myself against—it's his title. I don't care how he fights. What works for him isn't gonna work for me."

His gaze dropped to the sword in her lap. "That blade—it's yours, right? Not inherited. Not handed down."

She nodded, slower this time.

"Then fight like it. You're not Kin'emon. You're not me. You're you. And maybe that's the problem—you keep chasing someone else's path instead of figuring out your own."

Her fingers loosened around the hilt. She looked at him for a moment—silent, thoughtful. No scowl. No comeback.

"You say stuff like that," she murmured, "and I almost forget you're a dumbass."

Zoro smirked. "Almost."

Zoro pushed off the wall and rolled his shoulders. "I'm going home," he said, stepping toward his bike. "You should do the same. It's important to eat after working out all day."

He had just slung one leg over the seat when he heard her voice behind him.

"Wait—Zoro!"

He glanced back, one eyebrow raised.

Tashigi stood now, clutching her sword with both hands. Her voice wasn't demanding—it was earnest. "If I start coming in early… would you be willing to, too? Can you help me train?"

Zoro looked at her for a long beat. There was no pride in her tone this time, no edge. Just determination. He exhaled slowly, then turned back toward her, planting one foot on the ground.

"I'm not a teacher," he said flatly. "I'm not gonna go easy on you. You'll get knocked down a lot."

Tashigi nodded. "I don't want easy. I want to get better."

Zoro smirked, a familiar spark lighting in his eye. "Alright then. Tomorrow. Dawn."

She blinked. "That early?"

"You said early, didn't you?" He kicked the bike into gear, giving her one last look. "Don't be late."

And with that, he sped off down the road, leaving Tashigi standing at the edge of the dojo, wind tugging at her hair, a quiet fire starting to burn in her chest.

---

The morning sun poured through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the table crowded with plates of toast, eggs, and cut fruit. Nami sat at the head of the table, practically beaming as she stretched her newly freed arm above her head.

"Finally," she said, grinning. "No more cast! I can actually go back to the office today."

"That's great, Nami!" Franky said. "Just don't overdo it, okay?"

"I won't," she promised, picking up her coffee. "But I'm definitely milking all the sympathy I can while it lasts."

Chopper looked around mid-bite. "Hey, where's Zoro?"

Sanji didn't look up from the stove as he flipped a crepe. "He grumbled something last night about going to the dojo early. Said something about needing to get serious."

Usopp glanced at the clock and squinted. "It's seven in the morning. Just how early did he leave?"

Sanji shrugged. "Clearly before seven in the morning. Which, honestly, is fine by me. I think breakfast'll be a lot more peaceful without him."

Robin smirked over her tea. "Sanji, you don't mean that. It would make me very sad if you did."

Sanji spun on his heel, nearly dropping his spatula. "Of course not, Robin! I miss that moss-brained marimo already!" He placed a heart-shaped crepe on her plate with a flourish.

Brook let out a long, melodramatic sigh, stirring his tea without drinking it. "I can't believe it's already the end of June. Summer is going by far too fast, yohoho…"

Robin gave a small nod, her fingers still wrapped around her warm cup. "I agree. I leave for my research trip in three weeks. I can't believe July is so close."

Nami gasped suddenly, setting down her coffee. "Oh my gosh, you're right! Luffy—it's almost the end of the month!"

Luffy looked up mid-bite, blinking. "So?"

"So," Nami said, jabbing her finger toward him, "do you remember that Shirahoshi invited us to her swim meet at the end of the month?"

Luffy scratched his chin, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. "Oh yeah! I completely forgot!"

Sanji slammed his spatula on the counter, outraged. "WHAT?! The beautiful Shirahoshi personally invited you and you managed to forget?! You're such a moron!"

"I mean, I remembered now," Luffy mumbled around a mouthful of toast.

Jinbe looked up from his newspaper, smiling fondly. "What day is it at the end of the month? I'd love to support Shirahoshi in her athletics. She's like a daughter to me."

Nami pulled out her phone. "I'm not sure—I'll have to text her and ask. Good thing I remembered."

"Good thing indeed," Jinbe said warmly.

---

The low hum of Weatheria Inc.'s office buzzed around Nami like white noise—keyboards clicking, printers whirring, muffled conversations about satellite readouts and storm systems. She sat at her desk, finally back in her element, her arm light and free now that the cast was gone. The familiar sight of forecast charts and climate projections filled her monitor.

And then her phone vibrated. Again.

And again.

And again.

With a long sigh, she glanced down at her lock screen, now flooded with a chaotic mess of texts.

Vivi: So, what'd we decide about your little love life predicament? To pursue or not pursue 😏

Chopper: Make sure to come back to the clinic if anything feels off with your arm! For real! Don't ignore it!

Shirahoshi: The meet is this Saturday! Can't wait to see you!

Usopp: Hey, don't forget the Charli XCX concert in August too. Also send me a picture of your tickets so I know you weren't lying to me about getting them.

Robin: I just finished a new romance series you might like. Do you want me to give it to you?

Kaya: Hey! I know you're busy right now with work and everything, but we should totally hang out soon. I miss you! 💖

Nojiko: Are you still okay with me coming down in 3 weeks? Mom is sending me with an assload of tangerines btw 🍊🍊🍊

Luffy: U never sent me that picture of us :(

Nami groaned and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples before she started rapidly clearing her notifications with practiced thumb swipes.

Just as her phone screen cleared, a new alert popped up.

Tinder: Someone superliked you!

"Oh god." She hesitated… then tapped the notification.

Kidd superliked you!

Her eyebrows climbed. "Kidd? Really? Who names their kid Kidd?"

She scrolled through his photos:
—One of him shirtless, head-banging at a punk concert.
—Another with him flexing awkwardly in a dirty gym mirror.
—A photo of him with a long-haired blonde man throwing up the horns
But the last picture made her pause.

It was a group photo: Kidd on one side, folding his arms with a pout on his face. On the other side, a tall, tired-looking guy with dark blue hair and serious eyebags. And in the middle—Luffy, grinning wildly, his arms slung the other two in matching soccer team uniforms. Nami blinked, then quickly screenshotted the photo and shot it off to Luffy.

Nami: [image]
Luffy: This isn't the picture of us. Y are u sending me my picture with Traffy and Kidd?

Nami: Is Kidd cool?

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Luffy: I think he is. Y?

Nami: He liked me on Tinder.

She watched the little dots appear.
Three of them. Typing.
Then they vanished.

She waited, staring at the screen, her thumb hovering.
Nothing. Still nothing.
She started to tap out another message, then stopped.

The dots came back.
Paused.
Gone again.

Finally:

Luffy: Up to you I guess.

Nami stared at the message.

Short. Barely even punctuation.
No emoji. No follow-up. Just that.

She felt something tighten in her chest—a weird, dumb flutter of something unnameable—and quickly locked her phone, setting it face-down on the desk.

Nami scoffed, tossing her phone aside on her desk with a clatter. "Up to me, huh? Ugh, what does that even mean?"

Just then, a familiar voice snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, Nami!"

She jumped to her feet. "Ah! Haredas! I wasn't on my phone, I was—uh—reviewing satellite data!"

Haredas chuckled, waving her flustered excuse off. "Relax, relax. No one's gonna dock you for checking your texts. We're all just glad you're recovering nicely." He leaned in slightly, voice lowering to something a little more serious. "And I don't want to overwhelm you since it's your first day back, but we really need you on this project. It's... very high profile, if you catch my drift."

Nami blinked, quirking an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'high profile'?"

Before he could answer, a commanding woman's voice cut through the office like a thunderclap.

"Where is the CEO?! I need to speak with him now!"

Nami and Haredas turned toward the source of the voice—and there, standing dead center in the open office, was Boa Hancock. The Boa Hancock. In real life. In the flesh. Towering. Dazzling. Absolutely terrifying.

She was mid-rant, her perfectly manicured finger aimed like a weapon at a trembling intern. Her other hand rested dramatically on her hip, her long hair fluttering behind her like she'd brought her own wind machine.

"You had one job," she hissed. "One. And yet here you are—trying to deceive me like I'm some kind of fool! Do you know who I am?!"

The poor intern looked seconds away from passing out.

Nami's jaw dropped. "Is that—is that Boa Hancock?! Like... actual Boa Hancock?!"

Haredas sighed, long and heavy. "Unfortunately, yes. And she's in one of her moods. You can always tell—she looks so far down on you she ends up looking up. It's very confusing."

Suddenly, Hancock snapped her head in their direction. "Haredas! I hear you whispering! Where are you?! Show yourself at once!"

Haredas yelped and yanked Nami under the desk with surprising speed for a man his age.

"Did she just hear you from across the room?" Nami whispered.

"She's got the hearing of a hawk and the wrath of a god," he muttered. "Pray she doesn't sniff me out."

Nami peeked out from under the desk, dreamily watching Hancock chew someone else out. "She's even prettier in person. Do you think she'll give me an autograph?"

"Nami, focus!" Haredas hissed, grabbing her shoulder. "She's our most high-profile client! Hancock personally hired us to install a weather-control system at her estate that keeps the climate in perpetual summer. But there's a problem—she hates men. Like, truly hates them. Loathes them with the fire of a thousand suns."

Nami blinked. "Okay, but what does that have to do with—?"

"We tried to accommodate," Haredas whispered frantically. "We sent out the team in disguise. Wigs. Makeup. Voice modulation. It worked—for ten minutes. She saw through them instantly. It's a disaster."

Nami stared.

"That's why we need you," he continued. "You're the only woman in the department. You're the only one who can handle this job without risking being vaporized on sight. Please. You understand what's at stake here?"

Nami slowly looked back at Hancock, who had now moved on to berating someone's choice of font in the weather model presentation. She blew a strand of hair from her face.

"…So, you're saying I get to work on the most advanced weather tech in the country, go to the Boa Hancock's mansion, and get paid for it?"

Haredas blinked. "...Yes?"

Nami stood up, cracking her knuckles. "Say less. I'm in."

Haredas straightened his shirt and marched over to the storm that was Boa Hancock.

"Ah! Lady Hancock, we've been expecting—"

She whirled around, eyes blazing. "You—you old, incompetent fool! I should have your entire company shut down for this disgrace! Do you hear me?!"

Haredas flinched like he'd been hit with a lightning bolt. "Loud and clear," he squeaked, shrinking back.

Just as Hancock took a breath to continue her tirade, a calm voice cut in.

"Hello," Nami said, stepping forward smoothly. "We haven't met—I'm Nami. I'm interning here for the summer. I've been out for the past few weeks due to an injury, which is probably why we haven't crossed paths yet."

Hancock blinked, thrown for a split second by the confident poise in Nami's voice.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Nami asked, hands folded neatly in front of her.

There was a beat of silence as Boa Hancock gave Nami a slow, sweeping once-over—from head to toe. Her narrowed eyes softened, just slightly.

"…Is that Burberry Her I smell?" she asked.

Nami tilted her head, a bit caught off guard. "Oh—yeah. It was a gift. I don't wear it often, just for special occasions."

Hancock's entire demeanor shifted. "I adore that scent. So graceful. So modern. It doesn't try too hard—just like you." She took a step closer, eyes gleaming. "And your hair. My stars, it's practically radiant. What products do you use? I must know."

Behind them, Haredas stood frozen, like he was witnessing a once-in-a-lifetime eclipse.

"Oh, um," Nami said with a soft laugh, "just a mix of drugstore stuff, honestly. And a coconut oil mask I make myself. I can write it down if you'd like?"

"What mascara do you use?" Hancock continued, completely invested. "Your lashes—are they extensions?"

"Nope, all natural. I use Chanel Le Volume," Nami replied.

There was a pause. Then, without warning, Hancock surged forward and embraced her. "Thank the gods—you're really a real girl, aren't you?"

Nami flushed, awkwardly returning the hug. "Yeah… I'm a real girl."

Hancock pulled back, then suddenly caught sight of the healing scars on Nami's arm—still fresh from her stitches being removed the day before. Her expression shifted again, this time to concern, as she gently took Nami's arm in her hand.

"What happened here?"

Haredas quickly stepped in. "As Nami was saying, she's just returned after an injury. She got banged up retrieving climate data for us from Mount Colubo and—"

"You sent a woman on a mission like that?" Hancock snapped, eyes narrowing into daggers. "Is that your excuse? You couldn't fulfill my simple request because you nearly killed the only competent woman on your staff?"

She struck her iconic pose—head tilted downward, arms crossed, gaze looking so far down it somehow pointed up. "Pathetic."

Then, in a grand sweep of her arm, she declared, "Enough! From this moment on, she's the only person from your sorry excuse of a company I want working on my project."

Before either of them could respond, she turned on her heel, already striding toward the exit. Nami and Haredas stood frozen in her wake.

Hancock paused, her silhouette framed in the doorway, hair flowing like silk in an invisible breeze. She flipped her head around, perfectly dramatic. "Well? Are you coming? This weather system won't build itself, Nami."

"Uh—yeah. Do you still want me to write down the ingredients to that hair mask or—"

"Don't bother," Hancock called over her shoulder. "I only asked to test if you were actually a girl. I don't need some homemade junk when I have the world's best stylists tending to me."

She tossed one last glance back, her eyes landing on Nami's arm again. "I'll have my dermatologists overnight you a scar-minimizing gel. Those gaudy things won't last long. Now come on, chop chop!"

Nami quickly grabbed her tablet, phone, laptop, notebook, and a tote bag from her desk, slinging it over her shoulder as she hurried to catch up. Hancock was already striding ahead with purpose, and Nami fell into step beside her.

As they made their way toward the elevator, they passed the intern from earlier—the one Hancock had chewed out. He was now completely passed out on the floor, limbs splayed, eyes closed… but with a blissful, goofy grin still frozen on his face.

Nami blinked. "Uh… are you going to, um… apologize to him?"

Hancock didn't even pause. "Of course not."

She slipped a hand into her black Birkin bag, pulling out a pair of oversized designer sunglasses with practiced elegance. She slid them onto her face without missing a beat. "Besides," she said coolly, "it doesn't matter if I apologize or not."

"Why's that?" Nami asked, genuinely curious.

Hancock turned to her with a slow, deliberate smirk. "Because people will always forgive me," she said, voice like silk. "Even if I don't ask for forgiveness."

Then she pulled down her shades just enough to show her icy blue eyes and winked. "Because I'm beautiful."

Nami stopped in her tracks, eyes wide as her brain tried to process what just happened. Her heart skipped a beat. Or two. Maybe three. Her face turned beet red.

"Y-yes, ma'am!" she squeaked, immediately regretting how loudly she'd said it.

Hancock gave a satisfied little hum, as if the reaction was exactly what she expected, and kept walking.

Nami, still blushing furiously, followed after her like she was under some kind of spell.

---

Nami flopped face-first onto her bed, still wearing her work clothes, phone propped against a pillow as Vivi's face filled the screen on FaceTime.

"What do you mean you might be a lesbian?!" Vivi said, eyes wide, her voice climbing an octave. "When did you decide this? This is kinda big news, Nami! I mean, I'll support you obviously and love you no matter what you are and I guess I'm happy for you finding your true self, but like… this feels kind of out of the blue?"

Nami rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling with a dazed, faraway look. "Two words," she sighed. "Boa. Hancock."

There was a pause on Vivi's end. Then she made a face. "Girl, that doesn't count. Every girl is gay for Boa Hancock."

Nami replied dreamily. "No, but like. I think I actually blacked out for a second when she winked at me. I'm not exaggerating. My soul left my body."

Vivi snorted, adjusting her camera with a grin. "Yeah, that sounds about right. She didn't get named 'Most Beautiful Woman in the World' for nothing. I heard she's kind of a nightmare though—super demanding. Maybe even a total bitch."

She shrugged. "Not that it matters. That woman could step on me and I'd say 'thank you, ma'am'."

Nami laughed, then Vivi blinked. "Wait—hold on. Isn't Luffy, like... friends with her?"

Nami froze. "Oh my god. You're right! I completely forgot!"

She suddenly sat upright, panic rising. "And it's not just casual friends! She's obsessed with him. Like, full-blown delusional, wants-to-marry-him type obsessed."

Vivi burst out laughing. "No way. So Luffy's your competition? And she's your competition for Luffy? You've landed yourself in the weirdest love triangle of all time."

"This isn't funny!" Nami snapped, flailing her arms. "This is serious! Luffy told us the last time he saw her, he was at a café with his lab partner—just doing homework, totally innocent."

She dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Hancock took one look at the girl, pulled her aside… and after that? The girl dropped the class."

Vivi's jaw dropped. "What?!"

Nami nodded solemnly. "Gone. Ghosted. Possibly transferred schools. Might've fled the country."

Vivi broke into a fit of laughter. "Okay, yeah—you're definitely doomed. Does she even know you're friends with Luffy? Let alone that you live with him?"

"She doesn't even know that I know him! I spent the whole day at her place starting the weather system, and she was just... lounging by the pool with her sisters like some magazine spread. It was actually really hard to concentrate—her bikini was so cute. I was gonna ask where she got it, but let's be real, it's probably a hundred thousand berries and imported from Paris."

She groaned, flopping back against her pillows. "This is just one more reason I need to squash those weird feelings I have for Luffy. I don't want Hancock to kill me!"

"So," Vivi said carefully, "you're going with the 'do not pursue' route?"

"That was a given," Nami muttered. "Oh! I forgot to tell you—I finally got a match on Tinder."

Vivi's eyes lit up. "Shut up. Who?"

"Some guy named Kidd. He's on the soccer team with Luffy."

Vivi blinked. "Wait, Kidd? As in Eustass Kidd?"

"I think so?" Nami replied, a little hesitant.

Vivi groaned. "Nami, no. Unmatch with him right now. He's a total barbarian. We were in the same phys ed elective last semester—he nearly broke someone's arm in flag football. And he's, like, aggressively rude."

Nami frowned. "Really? Luffy said he thought he was cool."

Vivi raised an eyebrow. "Wait. You told Luffy you matched with him?"

Nami groaned. "Yeah, I kind of asked him for advice. And you'll never believe what he said. It took him forever to respond, too. Just one line: 'up to you, I guess.'"

She sat up, throwing her hands in the air. "What does that mean?!"

Vivi shook her head, laughing. "You're such a mess."

---

The Saturday sun beamed down over the aquatic center, its reflection dancing across the shimmering pool. The stands were filling up quickly, but one corner in particular was already loud and lively—Luffy's group had staked their claim early.

"Man, this place is huge," Usopp said, eyes wide as he leaned over the railing to get a better look at the lanes below. "They've got a whole second pool just for warmups!"

"It's a proper national competition venue," Robin said calmly, sipping a cold drink in the shade. "The best facilities for the best swimmers."

Jinbe, dressed in a neat collared shirt and slacks, was deep in conversation with a cluster of equally recognizable figures: Shirahoshi's family. Her mother, Otohime, radiated warmth as she listened to Jinbe speak, her father, Neptune, booming laugh echoed through the air, and her three older brothers—Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi, and Manboshi—stood nearby, offering polite nods and loud encouragements in equal measure.

Brook waved his flag with gusto. "Yooohohoho! I hope they let me play the anthem when she wins!"

"Did anyone bring snacks?" Chopper asked, looking around hopefully.

"Hold your horses, I'm here!" came Sanji's voice, arms full of paper bags and his business partner in tow. "I brought pastries from Pudding's place—fresh out of the oven."

Pudding gave a small wave, smiling sweetly as she passed out little boxes. "Hi everyone! It smells like chlorine and excitement out here!"

Not long after, Nami arrived, her arm linked with Kaya's.

"Kaya! You made it!" Usopp beamed, instantly crossing the distance to greet her. Kaya smiled and hugged him back.

"Wouldn't miss it. Shirahoshi's been working so hard—her and Camie deserve a full cheering squad."

"Where's Zoro?" someone asked.

Luffy, who was currently trying to balance a soda on top of his head, blinked. "Training."

Chopper's ears drooped a little. "He's always training lately... I kinda miss him hanging out with us more."

"He'll show up eventually," Franky said, lounging back with his sunglasses on. "Probably crash through the wall or something."

"Classic Zoro," Usopp muttered fondly.

Luffy turned to Sanji and Pudding with a grin. "So how's the restaurant stuff going?"

"It's coming together," Sanji said, lighting a cigarette. "We've got the menu locked down—lotta fusion dishes, my specialty."

"We're remodeling now," Pudding added. "It's been... an experience. Mama and Sanji had very different ideas about the aesthetic."

"She wanted it to look like a literal candy palace," Sanji muttered.

"She is Mama after all, she has her own peculiar taste in décor," Pudding said with a shrug. "But they reached a compromise. Sanji gets full control over the décor—as long as we bring in outside entertainment."

Robin raised a brow, amused. "And?"

"I think I found a group," Sanji said, eyes twinkling. "They're called The Kamas. No pictures anywhere, but they've got five-star reviews across the board."

Franky smiled. "Well, if you need an extra hand with hauling furniture, let me know. I'd be super happy to give you a hand!"

Luffy nodded in agreement. "Me too!"

Before Sanji could respond, there was a ripple of motion at the far end of the pool. Shirahoshi had emerged from warmups, her long hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, her team jacket draped over her slim frame. Even from a distance, her smile was bright enough to light up the entire stadium.

She jogged over, cheeks pink and eyes wide. "Everyone! You came!"

"Of course we did!" Luffy yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. "You're gonna do great!"

"We're so proud of you," Robin said warmly.

"We got you snacks!" Chopper added, holding up one of Pudding's boxes.

Shirahoshi laughed gently, hands clasped in front of her. "It means a lot to have you all here. I was really nervous earlier, but seeing you made everything better."

"Well then," Jinbe said with a proud smile, "swim your heart out. We'll be cheering with everything we've got."

The team erupted into supportive whoops and whistles, Franky practically lifting Usopp off the ground in a celebratory shake.

Shirahoshi giggled again, then waved as she turned back toward her team.

"Good luck!" Kaya called after her. "You've got this!"

As she disappeared down the poolside tunnel, the group settled in, laughter and anticipation in the air.

---

Back behind the starting area, Shirahoshi sat on a towel while gently stretching out her long legs. Camie plopped down beside her, bouncing slightly on her heels as she reached for her toes.

"I'm so glad you invited Luffy and everyone else!" Camie grinned. "It feels nice knowing we've got a whole cheering squad today. I feel like a lot of people slack when it comes to supporting the swim team—but this? This is awesome!"

Shirahoshi nodded, though a frown tugged at her lips. "Well… not everyone is here."

Camie tilted her head. "Huh?"

"Zoro isn't," Shirahoshi said, glancing toward the stands.

Camie followed her gaze, scanning the crowd. "Huh… I guess you're right. Weird. Maybe he got lost on the way here?"

Shirahoshi gasped, eyes going wide. "What if I made him mad? What if he's not here because of me? Maybe he… maybe he just doesn't like me!"

Camie blinked. "What would you have even done to make Zoro mad?"

"I—I don't know!" Shirahoshi wailed, burying her face in her hands as tears welled up. "I thought we were friends!"

At that moment, their coaches, Pappagu and Hachi, jogged over from the team area.

"Hey hey hey, what's going on here?" Pappagu asked, sunglasses perched on his tiny frame as he pointed up at Shirahoshi. "Why's our star swimmer crying? We've got a race coming up!"

Camie straightened up. "She's upset Zoro didn't come."

Pappagu blinked. "What friend?"

"Zoro," Camie said, gesturing vaguely toward the bleachers. "You know—the guy with the green hair who hangs out with Luffy?"

Hachi squinted, lifting a big hand to block the sun. "You mean that guy?"

They all turned to look.

There he was.

Zoro.

Seated casually in the stands, looking like he'd been there the whole time, arms crossed behind his head, sunglasses on, chewing something nonchalantly. No one had seen him arrive. He was just… there. Like a forest spirit that materialized out of pure willpower and muscle.

Camie's jaw dropped, her eyes bugging out. "Wha—he spawned. He literally spawned."

Shirahoshi gasped, tears immediately forgotten as her face lit up like the sun. She leapt to her feet and waved both arms frantically. "Zoro! You made it!"

Zoro sat up a little straighter, looked over, and smiled lazily. "Shirahoshi! Camie! Kick everyone else's ass out there!"

Shirahoshi beamed. "He does like me!"

Pappagu clapped his hands sharply. "Alright, alright! You two are up—let's go!"

Hachi nodded encouragingly. "Time to show 'em what you've got."

They moved to the deck, barefoot and focused, stepping up onto the starting platforms. The crowd quieted to a low hum as the announcer's voice echoed through the aquatic center. Camie shook out her arms, took a deep breath, and gave Shirahoshi a nod. Shirahoshi nodded back, her expression calm and determined.

"Swimmers, take your marks…"

The sharp click of the starting pistol rang out.

A beat.

And then—splash.

Seven girls dove cleanly into the water, slicing through the surface like arrows. The crowd roared to life again as the race began.

It was long. Brutal. The 2000-meter freestyle wasn't for the faint of heart. But Shirahoshi's strokes were smooth and powerful, like a machine powered by raw will and encouragement. Camie stayed close behind, her form tight and sharp, always two strokes behind.

Luffy stood up on his seat, yelling at the top of his lungs. "LET'S GOOOO, WEEPYHOSHI!"

Usopp cupped his hands around his mouth. "CAMIE, YOU GOT THIS!"

Chopper was nearly crying. "They're doing amazing!"

Franky shouted something about hydrodynamics. Robin smiled softly. Zoro, now standing with his arms crossed, simply watched—with a quiet, confident nod.

The final stretch came down to three.

A swimmer from another school was close on Camie's tail—but Shirahoshi surged forward, leaving the others in her wake with an almost inhuman burst of speed.

The buzzer blared as she touched the wall first.

Camie hit second.

The third-place swimmer followed right behind.

The crowd erupted.

Shirahoshi gasped for air, turning to look for Camie with wide, shining eyes. Camie popped up beside her, panting, but smiling from ear to ear.

---

Sanji held his phone up with both hands, angling it just right. "Okay, ladies! One, two—gorgeous on three! One… two… three!"

Click!

Nami struck a peace sign with her hip popped to the side, Robin stood tall and elegant with her hand resting lightly on Camie's shoulder, and Kaya stood between Pudding and Shirahoshi, all of them smiling wide under the sunlight. Camie and Shirahoshi held their medals proudly in front of them, shimmering in the light.

Sanji practically swooned. "Magnifique! Absolute perfection! You're all radiant! I need at least three printed copies of this for the fridge—"

"Okay!" Camie cut in with a big grin, stepping forward and grabbing Luffy's wrist before Sanji spiraled into more praise. "Me and Shirahoshi want a picture with you! Come here!"

"Yeah!" Shirahoshi nodded eagerly, bouncing a little in place. "Then after that—Mom! Dad! My brothers! Jinbe! I want a picture with all of you!"

Jinbe chuckled, already rounding up the Neptune family as Luffy stood between Camie and Shirahoshi, grinning while they held up their medals again.

Meanwhile, Usopp had drifted over to Kaya, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Hey, uh… feels like I haven't seen you in a while."

Kaya looked up at him and giggled. "It has been! You haven't texted me or anything. I thought you fell off the face of the planet for a bit."

Usopp blinked. "Text you? But… I don't have your number."

Kaya tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. "What? I swore I gave it to you when we first met a couple years ago."

Usopp shook his head. "No, I don't think so…"

"Well," Kaya said with a soft smile, "let's fix that." She pulled her phone out of her purse and handed it to him.

As he typed in his number, she added, "By the way, my little cousin absolutely adored that toy you helped me pick out. So, thanks!"

Usopp flushed, glancing up at her with a shy grin. "Ah—glad I could help!"

He handed the phone back, and as their fingers brushed for a second, both of them froze slightly—just long enough for their cheeks to heat up.

They looked away.

Then they looked back at each other at the same time, blurting, "What are you—"

Kaya laughed. "No, you go first."

"No, you," Usopp stammered, waving a hand. "I can wait."

Kaya smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was just going to ask what you're doing tomorrow. Do you work?"

Usopp relaxed a little. "Nah, I get my weekends off, usually. I was just gonna work on drawing some new comics. Why? Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No plans so far."

Usopp swallowed, then, with a burst of nervous courage, stuttered out, "W-Well, if you're free tomorrow, and I'm free tomorrow, maybe we should… do something. Together."

Kaya looked at him, amused but gentle. "Usopp, are you asking me on a date?"

His eyes went wide. "I mean—uh—only if you—like—want it to be? If not, it could totally just be a hangout, or like—y'know, a—uh—low-stakes friendly outing, not that I don't want to go on a date with you, I just—"

Kaya laughed, soft and warm. "I'd love to."

Usopp blinked. "Wait—really?"

"Really," she said, her eyes twinkling.

Usopp looked like he might explode from joy. "Okay! Cool! Great! Then it's a—uh—thing. Tomorrow. You and me. Cool."

Kaya nodded, her smile warm. "Text me."

"I will," Usopp said, already pulling out his phone like it was his life's most important task. He glanced back up at her, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

From just a few steps away, Nami appeared with a knowing smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper, "Told you you didn't need some elaborate scheme."

---

Inside the soon-to-be restaurant, chaos was in full swing.

Sanji and Pudding were guiding a couch through the door with Luffy and Franky on the other end, struggling to keep it balanced. Zeff barked orders from across the room while Big Mom waved her arms dramatically, arguing with him over where the tables should go.

"I told you," Big Mom snapped, "the booths should be purple. It creates ambiance!"

"Ambiance my ass," Zeff retorted. "This is a restaurant, not a circus tent!"

"It is a dessert shop! It should look like one!"

"Not if it looks like it was decorated by someone with a sugar rush!"

Sanji groaned, setting the couch down. "Can we not do this again? We've been fighting about the drapes for three hours!"

"You want drapes?! I wanted gold-trimmed velvet curtains and you said no!" Big Mom huffed, towering over him.

Sanji squared up, unbothered. "Because it's tacky! This isn't your birthday party—this is my restaurant!"

Pudding sighed, stepping between them with a placating smile. "Okay, okay, let's all just take a breath and maybe... compromise? Again?"

Luffy and Franky watched the scene like it was live theatre.

"Should we help?" Luffy asked, eyes wide.

"Nope," Franky said, arms crossed. "They're too far gone."

"Cool," Luffy replied, wiping sweat off his forehead. "Let's go grab the next round of furniture before someone throws a chair."

They headed outside, but as they reached the sidewalk, Luffy spotted a familiar face. "Oh hey! Usopp—"

Before he could shout, Franky clamped a hand over Luffy's mouth. Luffy flailed, muffled grunts escaping as he wrestled free.

"Franky! What was that for?! It's just Usopp!"

Franky pointed dramatically. "Look!"

Luffy squinted. Across the street, Usopp stood nervously next to Kaya, handing her an ice cream cone. She beamed, brushing her hair behind her ear as they started walking together, side by side.

"Cool," Luffy said, shrugging. "It's just Kaya. So why'd you cover my mouth again?"

Franky grinned, practically vibrating. "Luffy, they're on a date! And not just any date—their first date! How adorable is that?!"

Luffy blinked. "...They're dating? Since when?!"

"Since now, apparently!" Franky grabbed Luffy by the shoulders. "Come on! We've gotta follow them!"

"What? But what about the restaurant?" Luffy protested. "Sanji said he'd feed me extra if I helped!"

Franky was already dragging him in the opposite direction. "Food can wait. True love is happening."

Luffy sighed. "But I'm hungry now…"

"Shhh! Romance first. Burgers later."

---

Kaya licked her ice cream, smiling softly as they strolled side by side down the quiet, sunlit sidewalk. "You picked a good flavor," she said. "I didn't know they had lavender honey."

Usopp grinned, clutching his cone like it might melt out of his hand if he didn't hold it just right. "Yeah, I kinda panicked and pointed at the first one that sounded cool. Worked out though, huh?"

Kaya laughed. "Total win."

There was a comfortable pause. The breeze was gentle, the city sounds distant, and for once, Usopp's nerves didn't feel like they were trying to strangle him. He glanced at Kaya from the corner of his eye.

"You, uh… come to this part of town often?" he asked, immediately wincing. "Wait, no, that sounds like—like I'm trying to be a shady cab driver or something, I didn't mean it like that—"

Kaya giggled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know what you meant. And yes, actually. There's a bookstore I like a couple blocks down. I used to come here all the time after class."

Usopp's eyes lit up. "You like bookstores?"

"I love bookstores."

"Me too!" he said a little too loudly, then cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah. Totally. I like browsing the art books and comics and stuff."

She tilted her head. "You draw comics, right? You mentioned that."

"Yeah," he nodded, ducking his head a little bashfully. "Mostly short ones. Adventures, monsters, the occasional tragic backstory. Y'know. Drama."

"Drama, huh?" Kaya smiled. "Do your comics have romance?"

"Uh—sometimes?" Usopp's ears went a little red. "I mean, not usually. I'm still figuring that part out."

Kaya smiled, brushing her thumb over the napkin around her cone. "Maybe you'll get some inspiration soon."

Usopp blinked. "Huh?"

She looked up at him, her smile small but warm. "Well, I mean… you're on a date. Kind of perfect timing, right?"

Usopp nearly choked on his ice cream. "I—I mean—yeah! Right! This is a date!"

Kaya giggled again, clearly enjoying how flustered he was. She nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "Relax, Usopp. You're doing great."

He smiled at that, heart pounding, but in a good way. "Thanks… You too."

They kept walking, laughter trailing behind them. Just a few steps back, very stealthily hiding behind a bush, Franky and Luffy peeked out.

"They're smiling," Franky whispered. "This is going so well. Atta boy, Usopp!"

"I'm still hungry," Luffy whispered back.

---

The afternoon mellowed into golden hour, washing everything in warm light as Kaya and Usopp wandered from bookstore to bakery to a small street art fair. Kaya picked out a pin shaped like a cat in a top hat and handed it to Usopp, declaring it "absolutely you," while Usopp bought a little seashell bracelet from a vendor and awkwardly asked if she liked… wrists.

They shared a pastry from a local café, sat in a park watching a couple kids fly kites, and stopped to look at ducks floating in a fountain. Usopp told a wild story about a duck that once stole his sandwich and Kaya laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone.

Meanwhile, two shadows followed them from a safe (or not-so-safe) distance. Franky, crouched behind a car, kept muttering field notes into a tiny voice recorder. Luffy simply kept popping up from behind bushes and garbage cans, snacking on bits of leftover takoyaki.

By the time the sun began sinking into the horizon, Kaya and Usopp had made their way to a quiet harbor. The ocean glittered orange and pink, gentle waves rolling in below. They sat on a worn wooden bench just above the beach, wind tousling their hair, a calm silence resting between them.

"This was really nice," Kaya said, glancing at him. "You know, I'm glad we did this."

Usopp nodded, a little stiff. "Yeah. Me too. I was kinda nervous, but… today was awesome."

Kaya tilted her head slightly, smiling. Her gaze lingered. "You really didn't need to be nervous. I like being around you."

Usopp swallowed. His hand was resting so close to hers he could feel the warmth. Kaya leaned in just a bit, eyes soft and her smile gentle, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Usopp…"

She tilted her head. Her eyes flicked to his lips. She was waiting.

Usopp froze.

"W-Well! Look at the time!" he blurted suddenly, leaping to his feet like someone had set off a firecracker behind him. "Getting kinda late, huh? We should probably go home! Yeah! Definitely!"

Kaya blinked up at him, surprised, a little thrown. She sat back, folding her hands in her lap and giving a small, disappointed sigh. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Behind the building, Franky let out a guttural groan, dramatically collapsing behind a dumpster, clutching a pair of pink plastic binoculars.

"Noooooo! Usopp, you jackass! She was giving you the signs! The A-OK! Green light! The whole intersection was empty!"

Luffy, sitting cross-legged and chewing a skewer of meatballs, blinked up at him. "Why are you so mad she didn't wipe the crumbs off his face?"

Franky sat up slowly, peering down at him. "Crumbs off his… what the hell are you talking about?"

"That's the face someone makes when they're checking your face for crumbs," Luffy explained, nodding with sage-like confidence.

Franky's jaw dropped. "Luffy, no! That's the face a girl makes when she wants to be kissed!"

Luffy's eyes went wide. "What?!"

His mind suddenly reeled back—

They were on the couch. A movie flickering quietly in the background, the room dim and warm. Nami had leaned in close, eyes lidded, her voice soft.

"Luffy…"

He'd barely managed to stammer, "Nami… What are you—"

"What the fuck are you two doing?"

Zoro's voice crashed in like a bucket of cold water. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, brow arched.

"Zoro!" Luffy had grinned, entirely unfazed. "You found your way back! I thought we'd have to send out a search party."

Nami, however, had gone redder than a stop sign. Without missing a beat, she grabbed Luffy's face and scrubbed it.

"Come here, dummy. You've got crumbs all over your face—that's all I was doing. Getting the crumbs."

"Oh, really? Thanks, Nami," Luffy had said, utterly convinced.

Back in the present, Luffy dropped the meatball skewer out of his mouth. "Oh shit."

Franky, however, continued to grieve at Usopp's cowardice, ignorant to the epiphany Luffy was having right beside him.