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Chapter Text

The stars were twinkling over the Thousand Sunny as the Straw Hat crew gathered around the dinner table, plates piled high with food courtesy of Sanji’s passionate (and slightly theatrical) efforts. Luffy was already elbows-deep in meat, and the rest of the crew was loud, happy, and thoroughly entertained by Usopp’s latest, definitely-mostly-true tale.

“So then,” Usopp declared, eyes gleaming, “I swung down from the mast with a rope—a FLAMING rope, mind you—and landed right on the sea king’s head! One shot from Kabuto—BANG—and it went down like a bag of bricks!”

Chopper gasped, clapping his hooves together. “Usopp, that’s amazing!”

Zoro snorted, halfway through his third bottle of sake. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all week, and I hang out with Luffy.”

“Hey!” Luffy said through a mouthful of meat.

“Please,” Sanji scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Usopp catching a sea king is about as likely as Luffy catching feelings for Nami.”

Chuckles bubbled up from around the table at the thought of the captain showing romantic interest in anyone, Nami or not.

Then Luffy tilted his head in confusion and said, “But I do like Nami.”

Chaos detonated like a cannon blast.

Sanji dropped his plate with a crash, eyes bulging. “WHAT?!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Usopp sputtered, “Back up. BACK. UP.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow, expression unreadable but attentive.

Brook, ever the instigator, chuckled. “Yohoho! What a revelation! My heart would be pounding... if I had one!”

Chopper looked like someone had just told him the sun was a lie.

Nami, meanwhile, sat frozen. A muscle twitched in her cheek. Her fork was hovering in mid-air.

Robin sipped her wine calmly, smiling just enough to be dangerous. “Well now. This dinner just got interesting. Please do elaborate, Captain.”

Luffy blinked at all of them. “Why are you guys acting weird? I like Nami. Duh.”

“LIKE like?” Usopp pressed, voice cracking. “Like write your names together in a heart kind of like? Or like her because she’s on the crew kind of like?”

“I like all of you guys,” Luffy said cheerfully, clearly not seeing the trap he’d just walked into. “You’re my friends!”

There was a collective sigh among the Straw Hats as the world righted itself for a moment.

Then the captain continued with a shrug. “I like Nami different, though.”

And boom. It was back to short circuits across the crew.

Zoro just covered his eyes with his hand and muttered, “We’re gonna be here all night.”

Sanji stood up, fists clenched, a vein visibly throbbing on his forehead. “What the HELL does ‘different’ mean?! Luffy, I swear to the All Blue—”

“I mean, like—” Luffy paused, counting on his fingers like he was listing snacks. “She’s awesome at stealing money. That pays for our food. That’s cool.”

Nami made a small choked sound, somewhere between flattered and horrified.

Luffy nodded solemnly. “She punches really hard,” he added, as if that explained everything.

“THAT’S a good thing?” Usopp squawked.

“Yeah! She only punches me when I deserve it,” Luffy said, totally serious. “Which means she cares. Right?”

Robin laughed softly. “An... interesting metric for affection.”

“Oh! And she takes good care of my hat,” Luffy said with a wide smile. “Like, really careful. She even fixes it when it gets beat up. That’s important.”

Nami was now experiencing an emotional whiplash cocktail: flushed, flustered, touched, mortified, baffled. Her eyes darted around the table, as if looking for a trapdoor to escape into.

“I—Luffy, that doesn’t mean you like like me,” she managed to say.

“I like all you guys like friends,” Luffy said with a shrug. “But I like the way I feel when Nami’s there. That’s just... different.”

Silence.

Real silence.

Even the ocean seemed to pause.

Robin put down her glass delicately. “Well, I was planning to read tonight, but this is much more entertaining.”

Chopper slowly slid under the table, squeaking out, “I can’t handle this.”

Usopp was frantically whispering to Franky, “Are we in a romance manga? Is this a love story?! Did we switch genres?!”

Sanji looked like his entire existence was being restructured. “I—I need to sit down,” he muttered, already sitting.

Nami, pink-cheeked and visibly overwhelmed, opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Luffy, you—” She stopped. Bit her lip. “You don’t even know what that means .”

“Probably not,” Luffy nodded agreeably. “But it’s true.” Then, casually, he reached for a piece of meat and added, “Anyway. Are we out of juice?”

Chapter Text

The night air was warm. The stars were bright. The food was mostly finished.

The sanity? Long gone.

Luffy had just announced—without blinking, without fanfare, while mid-chew—that he liked Nami “different.” And now the ship might as well be on fire for how the crew was handling it.

Nami was still gripping her fork like it had personally betrayed her. Her expression shifted every ten seconds, like her face couldn’t decide if it was angry, touched, or on the verge of a full system reboot. Okay. It’s fine. He probably means it in some weird Luffy way. Like how he likes meat. That doesn’t mean anything. Right? Right?!

Across the table, Franky leaned back with stars in his eyes and both thumbs up. “This is SUPER!” he boomed, beaming at Luffy. “I’ve been waiting for this ship to sail for AGES! I’m gonna build you two a LOVE NEST in the shape of a TANGERINE!”

“Franky, no,” Nami muttered, face aflame.

Zoro looked like someone had just poured sake in his eyes. “I knew I should’ve eaten in the crow’s nest tonight.”

Meanwhile, Sanji was physically vibrating, one hand clutching his chest like he’d been stabbed. “My Nami-swan... how could this happen to me?! Betrayed! Out-shined! And by that meat-munching, emotionally constipated rubber band?!” But then he paused, scowling. “Also, what the hell kind of confession was that? No romance! No poetry! No flowers! Just ‘I like Nami different’—what does that even MEAN?!”

“THAT’S WHAT WE’RE TRYING TO FIND OUT!” Usopp barked, pointing both hands at Luffy like he was a broken vending machine. “You like Nami more than us?”

Luffy, still chewing, nodded. “Uh, I guess so. 'Cause I like you all like my nakama. That’s one way.” He held up a meat-greased finger. “And then I like Nami like that... and a different way. That’s two ways.” Two fingers. He beamed. “And two is more than one.”

Usopp stared at him in open disbelief. “That’s not— you can’t do math with emotions, Luffy!”

“Seems pretty clear to me,” Franky muttered. “Two ways is definitely more than one. That’s just science.”

Chopper had climbed onto a stool and was frantically scribbling on a clipboard. “Subject is demonstrating classic signs of confusion-based affection,” he whispered. “Possibly undiagnosed crush. Mild case. Potentially terminal.”

Zoro groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I still sitting here.”

Sanji threw up his hands. “This isn’t fair! If someone’s going to confess to Nami-swan, it should be me! At least I’d do it with roses! Not... feel math!”

But Robin, ever the scholar of chaos, gently placed her cup down and smiled. “Let’s perhaps explore,” she said silkily, “what you might like to do with Nami.”

Sanji let out a strangled “GHHHK!”, caught between an explosion of jealousy and the fact that he could not, under any circumstances, yell at Robin. He covered his ears with both hands and yelled, “I’M NOT LISTENING, BUT I’M ALSO DYING INSIDE!”

Luffy frowned thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his chopsticks. “I mean... I like when Nami talks to me. Even when she’s yelling. It’s kind of fun. And I like when we go into towns together. Except when she makes me carry her shopping. But even that’s kinda fun. OH! And I like when she falls asleep near me on the ship and I can hear her snoring. It’s a cute snore. Like a little tchhh-tchhh sound—”

Nami’s soul visibly left her body. What?! No. Stop saying things. Why do you notice that? Is that even true?! I don’t snore. Do I?!

“She’s always yelling at me, but then like... if I fall asleep somewhere dumb, she’ll move me or give me a blanket.” Luffy’s voice had gone soft now. “And sometimes I catch her doing it, and she gets all mad, but I think it’s nice.”

There was a very long pause.

Then Franky wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Robin, smiling like a cat who had just nudged a glass off the counter, added, “So you notice her in ways you don’t notice the rest of us.”

Luffy nodded. “Yup. She’s just... more interesting to me, I guess. I always wanna know what she’s doing. Like, when I wake up, I always check if she’s around. And when we land somewhere, I like walking next to her. Even when she’s mad.”

He paused again, then added, “I just like the way I feel when she’s there. That’s different.”

Nami made a sound that can only be described as a squeaky wheeze, her mind still flying on overdrive as it processed all this very new, very publicly-revealed information. I am not emotionally prepared for this level of direct honesty. He’s being so Luffy about it and I don’t even know what that means .  Do I yell at him too much? Wait no, that’s not the issue.  He likes walking next to me? What does that even— WHO CARES? I CARE. OH NO.

Chopper blinked and updated his notes: “Symptoms worsening. Both subjects may be contagious.”

Zoro stood up. “I’m going to bed. If this turns into a wedding planning session, someone please stab me.”

Sanji was flat on the floor now, face down, muttering “no poetry... no roses...” into the wood.

Robin sipped her tea and gave Nami a knowing glance.

“Well, Nami,” she said with a sly grin. “He may not have used flowery words... but you got the truth. Raw, unfiltered, and deeply... Luffy.”

Nami groaned and buried her face in her hands again. “I didn’t ask for this tonight.”

Luffy blinked at the chaos he’d caused, chewing thoughtfully as he stared at Nami’s very red, very expressive face. “I can tell you again on a different night,” he said, casually, like they were talking about the weather.

Nami made a pained, strangled sound halfway between a groan and a whimper, slouching so low in her chair she was basically sliding under the table.

Robin chuckled softly into her tea, her smile positively diabolical. “How considerate of you, Captain.”

Then Luffy beamed at Nami, completely unbothered. “And you can count up ways you like me, too!”

Nami froze.

Zoro audibly slapped his forehead.

Usopp’s brain short-circuited with a quiet “OH NO.”

Sanji made a dying goose sound somewhere from the floorboards.

Nami stared at Luffy in abject horror, heart pounding like it was trying to escape.

NO I CANNOT. WHY WOULD YOU—

What do you MEAN “count up ways”?! Who SAYS that?!

Okay but like... f I had to count... hypothetically... it would just be like three. MAYBE four. That’s not even—SHUT UP, BRAIN.

Luffy just kept smiling at her, swinging his legs under the table like a kid who had no idea he’d just emotionally derailed the entire crew. “Can’t wait to hear 'em,” he added cheerfully, then went right back to shoveling food into his mouth.

Nami let out the loudest sigh of her life and mumbled, “We are never having dinner as a group again.”

Robin tilted her glass toward her, amusement dancing in her eyes. “On the contrary... I think we should do this every night.”

Chapter Text

The next day dawned bright and peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Because internally, the crew had entered Day 1 of “Operation: Figure Out What the Hell Luffy Meant.”

They weren’t going to bring it up. They’d all agreed: don’t poke the sleeping beast. Let it lie. Ignore it, move on. And by “they all agreed”, it meant they had nodded when Zoro said to leave it alone and don’t bring it up because he didn’t want to hear it.

And yet…

“Okay,” Usopp whispered, sitting beside Luffy on the deck as the captain happily balanced on the Sunny’s railing, “I just gotta ask. You remember dinner last night?”

“Yup,” Luffy said, grinning. “Sanji made that soup where the shrimp were shaped like question marks!”

Usopp blinked. “...Right. So. Not the soup part.”

Luffy looked at him, still grinning. “Oh, the part where I said I liked Nami different?”

Usopp nearly choked on his own tongue in frustration. “Yes. THAT part.”

“What about it?” Luffy asked, tilting his head.

Usopp took a deep breath. “Did you mean you like her... like that?”

Luffy blinked. “Like what?”

“You know! Like that ,” Usopp answered, waving his hands vaguely in the air.  “Romantic!”

Luffy squinted. “What’s romantic again?”

Usopp groaned. “Okay, okay, okay, I’ll try another angle. Do you wanna... hold her hand?”

Luffy nodded. “Sure, if she needs it. Like if the ground’s slippery. Oooh, or maybe if we’re exploring some new forest. Easier to not get split up.”

Usopp pinched the bridge of his nose. “No—okay. Do you want to hold her hand because you want to? Like just because you like it?”

“I don’t know. I never thought about it. But I’d do it.” Luffy shrugged, smile still on his face, the brim of his hat waving in the breeze.

Usopp narrowed his eyes. “Okay. Hug her?”

“Yeah! I can totally hug her.” Luffy’s smile brightened. “Is she sad? I can make it extra squeezy.”

Usopp nearly screamed. “ALRIGHT. What about this—would you want to hang out with her alone?”

“Sure,” Luffy said without hesitation. “We always have fun when we go in town or exploring or whatever. She’s cool.”

Usopp dropped his head against the deck with a thunk. “I’m getting nowhere with this. I feel like I’m trying to explain dating to a coconut.”

Just then, Robin’s shadow stretched across them. “Trouble, Usopp?” she asked, voice like silk and danger.

He groaned again. “He doesn’t get it. I’m trying to figure out if he likes Nami romantically , but his answers are as emotionally deep as a grocery list!”

Robin chuckled. “Ah. That’s where you’re going wrong.”

“I did it wrong?” Luffy looked puzzled.

“Not quite, Captain. Let’s try something simpler,” Robin said smoothly, kneeling beside Luffy, her tone soft and calm but with a distinct glint of curiosity in her eyes. “Don’t think about what you’d do with her. Just think about how you feel when you’re around her.”

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That’s easy.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, imagining. He grinned, wide and honest. “Good.”

Robin tilted her head, intrigued. “Good?”

“Yeah,” he said brightly. “I feel... happy. Like it’s gonna be a good day. Even if I get punched or yelled at. It still feels good.”

Usopp muttered, “That is either incredibly sweet or emotionally concerning. Possibly both.”

Robin smiled. “Thank you, Captain. Now... let’s imagine a few things together.”

“Okay!” Luffy chirped, still smiling.

Robin’s voice stayed gentle. “Imagine someone else, not any of us, holding Nami’s hand. Not because she’s slipping, or in danger—just holding it. For no reason.”

Luffy’s smile slipped just a hair. “I guess... that seems weird,” he muttered, looking a bit confused. “Why are they holding her hand for no reason?”

Robin nodded slowly. “Alright. Now imagine someone giving her a hug. Close. Long. Maybe comforting her. Or maybe she’s just happy, and they’re sharing it.”

Luffy’s brows furrowed a bit. “I mean... I could do that. That’s what nakama are for. But if it’s someone else, I dunno. It feels kinda funny.” He shifted. 

Robin’s voice remained calm, smooth as still water. “Now imagine her going off on a day trip. Not with you. Not with the crew. Just... someone. Alone. Someone she chose to go with.”

Luffy frowned. “Why?” he asked, suspicious now. “Where’s she going? Why not with us?”

“Just imagine it,” Robin coaxed gently.

“I don’t like it,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “I’d want to follow them. Just to make sure she’s okay.”

Usopp, now frozen in place watching the scene before him, was mouthing holy crap .

“And last one,” Robin said, voice soft but piercing. “Imagine someone kissing her.”

There was a full three seconds of silence. Then.. his jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in something sharp and foreign to his usual wide-eyed self. “I don’t like that,” he said quietly. “Like... really don’t like that.”

Robin’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes gleamed. “What don’t you like about it, Captain?”

Luffy exhaled sharply through his nose and rubbed his chest absently. “It makes my chest feel weird. Like it’s too small or something. And like... I should punch something. Not big punching. Just... enough to make it stop.”

Usopp nodded sagely. “Yep. Romantic. That’s a romantic reaction. We’re there. We’ve landed. He’s arrived at the station, folks.”

Robin’s voice remained calm. “Would you feel that way if you imagined someone hugging or kissing me?”

Luffy blinked. “Huh? No, so long as you wanted ‘em to, that doesn’t feel bad.”

Robin chuckled. “Fascinating.”

Luffy scratched his head, clearly trying to sort it all out. “Is this... bad? That I don’t like it? Wait, does Nami want to kiss people?”

“I can’t answer that one, Captain,” Robin said, her tone turning oddly warm. “But it’s not bad that you don’t like the thought. It means you care. Deeply. And in a different way than you care about the rest of us.”

Luffy looked out toward the sea. Thoughtful. Not distressed, but quiet.

“Oh,” he said finally. “That’s the different.”

Robin nodded. “That’s the different.”

Chapter Text

Nami was definitely not overthinking anything. The sun was too bright. The sea was too calm. Her coffee tasted weird.

Or maybe she just couldn’t taste anything because her brain wouldn’t shut up.

“I like Nami different.”

Ugh.

Nami rolled onto her side in her bed and yanked the blanket over her head.

“You can count up ways you like me too!”

“Stupid rubber idiot!” she hissed, punching her pillow in a very calm and emotionally stable manner.

Why did he say that like he was giving me a free sandwich card?! And why is it bothering me this much?! I should be flattered, maybe amused. Not blushing like I’m sneaking glances at boys in class.

She groaned into the pillow. There wasn’t even any guarantee he meant it romantically. Sure, he said “different,” but Luffy said a lot of things that didn’t mean what they sounded like.

...But also, he did say he liked walking next to her. And her snore. And always checked if she was nearby.

That’s not nothing.

She pressed the pillow tighter to her face.

But if he does like me... then what? What does that even mean when it’s Luffy?

She sighed. “I'm gonna need ten years of therapy to get through this.”

“So I called this meeting,” Usopp began, standing dramatically atop the table, “to confirm the facts.”

“This is not what the meeting room is for,” Zoro muttered, arms crossed, already regretting showing up.

Robin sipped her tea, elegantly unbothered. “I think it’s exactly what the meeting room is for.”

Brook raised a hand. “Yohoho, are we voting on whether the captain is in love?”

“No,” Usopp said. “We are confirming that he’s not in love. Not yet. But he is romantically interested. Huge difference.”

Sanji let out a tragic noise and slid down the wall like a melting painting. “I was not emotionally prepared for this confirmation.”

Franky slammed his hands down on the table with an excited BANG. “THIS IS SUPER!”

“Robin and I interrogated him for an hour,” Usopp continued. “He didn’t know what romantic meant, but when asked how he’d feel if someone else held Nami’s hand, hugged her, kissed her—he got this frown like someone canceled meat day.”

“He also said it made his chest feel too small,” Robin added, serene as ever. “And that he wanted to punch something. Gently.”

Zoro snorted. “So he got jealous. Congrats. He’s human.”

“He got romantic-jealous,” Usopp corrected. “Which means he does, in fact, like her like that.”

Sanji wailed from the floor, “But he didn’t even say anything sweet! Or passionate!”

Chopper tilted his head. “He said being around her makes him feel good.”

Zoro rubbed his temples. “You people are so dramatic.”

Franky pointed dramatically at Zoro. “YOU’RE just mad you get front-row seats to watch the best ship of our LIVES.”

Robin laced her fingers together. “Now the only question left is… does Nami feel the same way?”

Everyone paused.

Even Sanji stopped moaning dramatically for half a second.

“...Yeah,” Usopp said, blinking. “She hasn’t punched him.”

Robin chuckled. “Yet.”

Luffy sat cross-legged on the figurehead, arms behind his head, staring at the sky.

He was thinking.

Very hard.

He knew now that he liked Nami “like that.”

Robin had helped him figure that part out. All the weird feelings made sense when he imagined someone else holding Nami’s hand. It wasn’t a mystery. It was something real. He liked being around her. She made everything feel more fun. Even when she was mad. Especially when she smiled.

And now that he knew that…

“Well,” he mumbled aloud to himself, “if I like her like that, and it makes me feel good…”

He tapped his forehead with a finger. “Then if she likes me like that… she’d feel good too.”

There was a long pause.

He grinned slowly.

“That’s good math.”

He stood up, fists clenched with determination.

“Okay! New mission!” he declared to the seagulls flying overhead. “Make Nami like me like that!” He nodded proudly. “Just gotta figure out how.”

He paused again.

“Probably not with meat. …Maybe a little meat.” He scratched his chin. “…Maybe a bunch of small things. Like making her smile. Or walking next to her more. Or finding her cool treasures. Or keeping her warm at night when it gets cold.”

He nodded again, this time to himself.

“I’m gonna make Nami feel good .”

Sanji, passing by at exactly the wrong time, caught this final declaration. He dropped his tray, nearly choked on his cigarette, and walked straight into a wall.

Chapter Text

Nami sat at her desk in the sunny corner of the library, working on a map.

The paper was blank. The pencil in her hand had bite marks. Her gaze had been fixed on the same knot in the wood for twenty minutes until she gave up and just closed her eyes. She tried to envision land forms rather than bright eyes and earnest smiles under a ratty straw hat.

Robin entered like a shadow with perfect posture, a book in one hand and a mild smile in place. “Mapping the back of your eyelids, Nami?” she asked—voice casual, implication deeply not .

Nami startled, pencil nearly flying. “Wha—no! Just… thinking. About trade winds.”

Robin hummed, shelving her book. “Ah yes. The mysterious trade winds of Why Did Luffy Say That Island.”

Nami’s face immediately flushed. “I am not thinking about that.”

“Of course not,” Robin said smoothly. “Silly of me.”

There was a pause.

Robin stepped closer, watching her with serene amusement. “You’ve been rather quiet lately.”

“I’m always quiet,” Nami mumbled. “It’s the other idiots who are loud.”

Robin raised a brow. “You’re quiet when you’re scheming. This is different. This is... contemplative.”

Nami groaned and flopped face-down on her desk. “Do not psychoanalyze me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Robin sat on the windowsill, sipping tea that she absolutely hadn’t had five seconds ago. “But I must admit, it’s interesting to see you thrown off balance.”

Nami peeked up, eyes narrowed. “You know something, don’t you?”

Robin just smiled, mysterious as the void. “It’s not mine to tell,” she said.

Nami sat up straighter, arms crossed. “Which means there is something to tell.”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Robin replied sweetly.

“You’re the worst, ” Nami hissed, heat rising to her cheeks again.

Robin’s eyes twinkled. “That shade of blush suits you.” The navigator glared daggers at her in response.

Robin stood, brushing invisible dust from her skirt. “You’ll figure it out. You’re clever. After all…” She smiled and turned toward the door. “I think you’re getting closer.”

Nami blinked. “Closer to what ?”

But Robin was already gone.

And now Nami was staring at her map again. Blank paper. Still. She sighed and muttered, “Why does he have to be so confusing?”

Luffy stood in the middle of the deck, arms crossed, looking very serious. Which for him, meant his hat was tilted forward and his mouth was set in a crooked pout.

He had a mission, and he needed strategy. So naturally, he turned to—

“Zoro!” he called out confidently.

“No,” Zoro said immediately.

Luffy blinked. “You don’t even know what I was gonna ask.”

Zoro didn’t look up from cleaning Wado Ichimonji. “If it’s about plans, no. If it’s about Nami, no. If it’s about feelings—extra no.”

Luffy frowned. “But you’re my first mate!”

“I’m your first fight mate. Go ask literally anyone else. Someone who likes talking about this. I don’t do dumb.”

Luffy grumbled and walked away. This wasn’t dumb. Zoro was dumb. Fine. He’d just have to ask someone smarter.

…Which is how he ended up in the workshop.

“Franky,” he said, sticking his head in, “how do I make Nami like me back?”

Franky dropped his wrench with a gasp so loud it probably startled fish. “LUFFY,” he boomed, eyes shining behind his shades. “You’ve come to the SUPER right place!”

Luffy grinned.

“What you need,” Franky said, slapping blueprints on the table, “is high-altitude affection deployment. A SUPER sonic love-bird!”

“A what now?” Luffy asked.

“She won’t see it coming. No one sees the seagull of emotion coming. ”

Thirty minutes later, the Straw Hat Pirates were introduced to Franky’s latest invention:

S.S. Luvgull-9000 — a mechanical seagull with a speaker built into its chest and Luffy’s voice pre-recorded in romantic loop mode.

It flew majestically over the deck, flapping awkwardly, screeching such gems as “NAMI I LIKE YOU DIFFERENT!”

It soared by the galley, squawking at the top of its mechanized lungs. “YOU’RE COOL AND SMART AND PUNCH ME REAL GOOD!”

It sailed towards the tangerine trees where Nami was gathering fruit before letting loose another cry.  “I’D LET YOU HAVE MY MEAT!”

Every crew member froze. Every head turned.

Nami watched as it neared. Her face was unreadable. For exactly three seconds.

Then her staff extended with a terrifying click-shoom.

WHAM.

The seagull exploded in a rain of springs and heartfelt debris.

Nami’s cheeks were the color of sunset.

Frozen in place, Usopp was whispering, “...Let you have my meat? There has to be other things he could have said.”

“She exploded it,” Sanji whispered, awestruck. “That was romance and violence. A beautiful combo.”

“I am going to my maps,” she announced loudly. “If anyone interrupts me without shouting ‘cyclone ahead,’ I will throw you overboard.”

She stormed off.

No maps got drawn. But a lot of imaginary conversations happened. Most of them ended in her punching him. One particularly heated mental exchange ended with her envisioning delivering a kiss and a swift fist to the skull.

She put her head down onto her folded arms and groaned. She was pretty sure the only “close” she felt was “close to losing it.”

Chopper peered over the side of the ship, squinting at the remains of the Luvgull-9000 floating in the sea. He flipped open his clipboard and scribbled furiously:

Patient 001 (Captain):
Symptoms include irrational optimism, chest tightness, romantic tunnel vision.
Has begun actively seeking “missions.”

Patient 002 (Navigator):
Blush frequency increasing. Map productivity decreasing.
Exhibits extreme sensitivity to public declarations.

He frowned. “I should make a chart. And I may need to develop new subcategory: 'Emotionally Compromised Command Structures.’” He chewed the end of his pencil nervously. “Hope they don’t explode. Emotionally. Or literally.”

Back in the corner, Robin sat sipping from her teacup again.

She watched Nami vanish into the map room. Then looked out across the deck, where Luffy was already chasing another idea.

And she smiled, softly, like a secret. “Definitely closer.”

Chapter Text

It began, as so many disasters do, with Brook and a guitar.

“My dear Captain,” the skeleton cooed, brandishing a rose as he propped one bony leg on a barrel like a pirate Casanova. “Music is the language of the soul—the instrument of romance!”

“Instrument!” Luffy echoed, very inspired despite having no idea what the plan was.

The musician was only too keen to fill him in. “You must serenade her!” 

Luffy squinted. “What’s that?”

“You stand outside her window and sing your heart out!” Brook explained. “Lyrically! Emotionally! Passionately!”

“Awesome!” Luffy grinned. “I’m gonna go do that RIGHT NOW.”

Brook grimaced as only a skull can. “Wait—maybe we should rehea—”

But Luffy was already gone.

Meanwhile, tucked away at her drafting table, Nami was taking advantage of the solitude and silence. She had just managed to finally focus on her map again when—

TWANG. A terrible, horrifying sound filled the air.

“🎶 Naaaaami you're coooool—like a breeze in a place where it's hot— 🎶”

TWANG. SCRAPE. TWANG-TWANG.

“🎶 You punch real hard and your money schemes are smarrrrrt— 🎶”

Nami’s eye twitched. Her pencil snapped in half. She slowly rose.

“🎶 I’d give you meat—like ALL of it—if that’s what you neeeeeed— 🎶”

The door burst open, a scowling navigator glaring daggers toward where the sound was coming from. The twang was awful. The chords were butchering her nerves.

Luffy beamed from his perch just outside her window, strumming a wildly out-of-tune guitar. “NAMI! Hey! Did it work? Did you get feelings yet?”

Through gritted teeth came the reply: “I am feeling like I’m going to feed you to a sea king if you don’t KNOCK IT OFF!”

She slammed the door and stalked back to her desk. She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but if someone just took the guitar away, it might’ve been tolerable. His voice..she didn’t hate it. She stared down at the unfinished map.

Focus: obliterated.

***

After the failure of Luvgull-9000 and The Ballad of Brain Melt, Luffy turned to a new source.

“Usopp,” he said with utmost seriousness, “you know about girls, right?”

Usopp froze mid-tinker. “…I do.” He didn’t. But when had that ever stopped him? “You’ve come to the right guy,” he said, puffing out his chest. “Gather round. Let me teach you the sacred arts.”

Luffy sat down, eyes shining like they were making a battle plan.

“First,” Usopp said, “you gotta smolder.”

“…What’s that?”

“You know. Look mysterious. A little brooding . Like you have secrets. Girls love that.”

Luffy tried. His face contorted like he was holding in a sneeze while fighting an abscessed tooth.

“…You’ll need practice. Moving on. Compliment her. So she knows you notice her.”

“I did that!” Luffy said proudly. “I told her she hits me really hard!”

Usopp pinched the bridge of his nose. “Other compliments. Not ones involving pain.”

“Ohhh. Not-punching compliments. Got it,” Luffy nodded, banging his fist against the palm of his other hand. 

“And do nice things for her,” Usopp added.

Luffy perked up. “I do that too! Like when I helped her with Enel!”

“…That’s not exactly what I meant, but sure.”

“Okay. So—smolder, compliments, nice stuff. What else?” Luffy wore a serious expression that said he was clearly trying to take all of this in. This should’ve been a red flag, but the sniper charged ahead anyway

“Give her something,” Usopp said. “A gift! Or a card.”

Luffy nodded slowly. “You really know a lot, Usopp. Is this the stuff you did with Kaya?”

Usopp jumped like he’d been touched with a live wire at the mention of his crush. “WHAT?! No—I mean—we—That’s totally different—I didn’t—”

Luffy tilted his head. “Did you forget the ‘beat up a lightning god’ step?”

Usopp threw his hands up in exasperation. “WHY IS THAT YOUR STANDARD?! For the love of— No, I just did normal things. Made her laugh. Mostly, I write her letters now since–”

Luffy just smiled. “Okay, got it. Smolder, compliments, letter. Thanks, Usopp!” And like an overcaffeinated golden retriever, he was off.

Usopp stared after him, then buried his face in his hands. “Oh no. What did I just unleash.”

From behind a barrel, Robin sipped her tea. “I wonder what he’ll write,” she mused. “I hope it’s a haiku.”

Chopper scribbled furiously on his clipboard. Symptoms: Sudden guitar-related outbursts, spontaneous smolder attempts, poetry. Prognosis: Terminal dumb crush.

***

Nami opened the map room door mid-stretch, stepping out for a breath of air.

Luffy appeared instantly like a summoned spirit. “Nami!” he grinned. “I on-purpose ignored you while you were in there! And I also wrote you a letter!”

She blinked. “…You ignored me?”

“Yeah! Because interrupting would’ve been not nice, and I’m doing nice things!” He held up a letter like it was a prized treasure. Then, suddenly remembering himself, he straightened… and pulled a face that looked halfway between a squint and being constipated, furrowing his brow like he was trying to summon thunder with pure willpower.

“Are you okay?” she asked, mildly alarmed, though she supposed this wasn’t even in the top 5 weird things he had done these past few days.

Luffy gave a thumbs-up. “Yeah. Just... smoldering. But look! Letter!” He shoved it into her hands with zero subtlety.

Nami unfolded the letter slowly, bracing for either nonsense or emotional spiral.

Inside was a drawing of Nami holding a money bag, giving a thumbs-up next to the words:

“You are awesome. I like when you laugh. And when you zap people. You’re my favorite cloud in the sky.

– Luffy :)”

She stared at it.

He was watching her excitedly, expectantly. Bouncing on his toes with the eagerness of someone waiting for fireworks after lighting the fuse himself.

She looked up and deadpanned, “...I like the money bag.”

Luffy beamed.

Nami rolled her eyes, but her fingers smoothed and folded the paper anyway as she walked past.

The note was still in her pocket hours later.

Still folded. Still hers.

Chapter Text

Luffy was lying on the deck, pencil between his teeth, staring at a page of notes he had been scribbling for the better part of an hour.

“Stuff That Didn’t Work”

• Seagull Screaming Plan
• Guitar Screech Serenade
• “Eyes are like Meat” Compliment*
• Smoldering
• Not Smoldering
• Being Quiet (very hard, 0/10)
  *should have been the best compliment, dunno why she got mad
  
  

He sighed.

That’s when Robin wandered by, arms crossed, amusement already gently tugging at her mouth. She stopped. “A progress report, Captain?”

Luffy sat up. “Robin, everybody’s advice is weird.”

She smiled. “And yet, you’ve tried all of it.”

“Yeah,” Luffy said, flopping back again, “but I don’t think I’m doing it right. How do I know if I’m going for the right kind of ‘like’?”

Robin sat beside him, looking out at the sea. “If other people’s ideas don’t feel right… perhaps all you need to do is be yourself.”

Luffy blinked slowly. “But how does that help? I’m already being me. I’m always me. I can’t be not-me.”

A beat of silence passed as the gears turned in his head. Then he ventured, tentatively, “Unless…”

Robin raised a brow, curious just where he’d end up.

“…What if I was Nami ?”

Her smile deepened. “Do go on.”

“Yeah. Cuz if I was Nami, then I’d know what Nami likes,” Luffy said, eyes widening as he sat up, fully locked into the chaos now. “So that means I’d know how to make Nami like me because I am Nami. But also, I’m me. So… does Nami like me, or does Nami-me like me-me?”

He stared into the void.

“…Is Nami me?”

Robin was delighted at bearing witness to this trainwreck of thought.  “Fascinating.”

Luffy stood up, eyes glassy. “I need to lie down. Or eat.”

Chopper, just behind a barrel, nodded solemnly and scribbled into his clipboard. Symptoms: Identity confusion, philosophical meltdown, probable low blood sugar. Treatment: Snack. Maybe nap.

The sun was low, skipping golden kisses across the softly rolling waves.

Luffy, newly snacked and marginally recovered, sat on Sunny’s figurehead, swinging his legs and thinking.

He thought about dinner. Not tonight’s, though meat was always a nice topic. That dinner. When everyone laughed like the thought of him liking Nami was impossible. And he said what he thought. And things got weird.

He hadn’t been trying to hide it, it wasn’t a secret. Just no one had ever asked. But it had been true. He liked Nami different. And now… wait, maybe that was the thing.

He lit up like a lantern.

Maybe she already likes me, and just nobody asked her !

Nami was high up in the tree garden, trying to calm her brain by watering something green. It was proving more challenging than she’d like to admit. She’d almost managed to refocus, letting the quiet settle into the fading sunlight—until she heard a sound snapping her thoughts back to where they had just escaped from.

“HEY NAMI!” came a shout, bright and warm and familiar.

She jumped, nearly watering her shoes. “Luffy, I swear. If you have some weird gadget, or letter, or a riddle about meat again—”

“Nope!” Luffy said, grinning, hands behind his head. “Just a question.”

“…Oh. Okay,” she said, untensing her shoulders. “Let’s hear it. Is it about the next island?”

He beamed. “Do you like me?”

Silence.

“…What?” she said, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Do you like me? Like that ?” He tilted his head. “You know. Like maybe you should hit someone if they kissed me.”

Nami’s face cycled through eleven expressions in three seconds. Why is he asking that? Why is he asking that NOW?! Why is my brain putting that image in my head—Why do I hate that image so much?! Because the truth was… she could see it. Someone leaning in to kiss Luffy. Someone not her. And that image made her jaw tighten and her hands clench.

Okay. Fine. Maybe she does feel a little weird about him. And his stupid smile. And his weirder letters. And how he said she was his favorite cloud. Maybe her heart did something strange at that. Maybe she really would punch someone in the face if they kissed him.

She sighed, defeated.

“Yeah,” she muttered, shoving her watering can into his chest. “I like you too. Idiot.” Her face was hot, her heart louder than it had any right to be. She didn’t look up. But she didn’t take it back, either.

Luffy lit up like the dawn. “Cool!”

No sooner had the words slipped out than a chorus of reactions erupted from around the Sunny.

“He did it! He actually just asked !” Usopp crowed, popping out of a bush, binoculars in hand.

“‘I Like You Too, Idiot’ shall become a love ballad for the ages! Yohoho!” Brook declared with flourish.

Zoro grunted out from where he had been trying to nap. “Would have been more interesting if she had decked him.”

“I need to update the symptom chart!” cried Chopper, skidding across the grass.

Franky was genuinely sobbing with happiness. “THAT WAS SO SUPER I COULD CRY!”

“My Nami-swaaaaan…!! If it had to be someone, at least he has… strong shoulders…” Sanji wailed out, mid-dramatic faint.

Robin smiled serenely at the chaos unfolding around her. “I believe I called this.”

Nami turned to Luffy, mortified. “Did you know they were watching us?!”

Luffy scratched his chin. “Nope. But I did wonder why Brook had sheet music called ‘Confession Backup Chorus’.”

Nami groaned.

Luffy offered her the watering can.

She rolled her eyes—and took it back. “…You're lucky you’re cute,” she muttered.

“Thanks!” he grinned. “Wanna walk with me?”

She hesitated. Then, quietly: “Yeah.”

They walked down the stairs together, shoulder to shoulder. Luffy’s hands swung freely at his sides; Nami’s fingers toyed with the edge of his note in her pocket.

Behind them, the sound of half a dozen people trying to sneak after them while tripping over each other was loud enough to scare a bird off the mast.

Chapter Text

The kitchen of the Sunny was filled with heavenly smells—simmering sauces, freshly baked bread, herbs sizzling in garlic oil—but Sanji’s mood was anything but heavenly. He stirred with fury. Chopped with flair. Muttered like a tragic anti-hero.

“That stupid rubber captain,” he grumbled as he diced a tomato so finely it was practically sauce. “He doesn’t know the first thing about romance. About courtship! About subtlety!” He slammed a pan onto the stove. “If it were me,” he growled, “I’d sweep Nami-swan off her feet with candlelight and cuisine. I’d serve her soufflés so divine her toes would curl in delight.. She’d moan with gastronomic euphoria at the flavors I awakened in her—”

Outside the open galley window, Luffy sat cross-legged on the deck, nose in the air, eyes closed, taking in the smells like a hungry meditation master.

Most of Sanji’s rant flew right over his head like a sleepy gull. But one phrase—"her toes would curl in delight"—lodged in his brain.

Toes can curl? That sounds awesome. I wanna see that!

He pictured it vividly: Nami getting something so good that lightning bolts of happiness would shoot through her brain. And then her toes would curl. Maybe she'd float off the ground a little. Her voice would go “whoa” like Usopp’s does when fireworks go off.

That’d be so cool.

He nodded to himself and murmured quietly. "Okay. Curl mission: go.”

Later that afternoon, the crew went about their business aboard the ship. The captain slipped into the kitchen while it was unoccupied. Sanji had left the galley spotless. It was a tactical error.

“This is fine,” Luffy said as an egg slid off the counter and hit the floor with a splat. “This is how Sanji starts, probably.”

He poked at a spice jar. The label said paprika, but he didn’t trust it. He sniffed it, sneezed, then dumped half in the batter. “Zing,” he said happily.

A loud sizzle followed. Then a tiny fire. Chopper held his hooves over his nose two decks away. “Why does it smell like someone’s putting regret into a skillet?”

Several unauthorized eggs, a ruined frying pan, and two narrowly avoided galley fires later, Luffy emerged from the kitchen victorious, flour in his hair, something sticky on his elbow, and a plate in his hands.

It was… a food item. Possibly. Pancake-adjacent. Maybe a crepe. Grey, somehow. Dotted with berries. Drizzled in… ketchup?

Nami reclined on the deck lounge, sunglasses on, a glass of citrus water in hand. Robin sat beside her, flipping through a book, sipping tea like she owned every secret in the sea.

“You’ve been very relaxed lately,” Robin murmured.

“Don’t ruin it,” Nami deadpanned, not even lifting her head.

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You were thinking it.” Nami popped one eye open to squint it at her friend.

Robin smirked. “Mmm, one does wonder what you were thinking about earlier when you were humming.”

Nami groaned and dragged her sunglasses over her face like a shield. “You’re worse than Sanji.”

“Untrue. He’d be serenading you by now. I just enjoy watching the unraveling.”

Before the teasing could escalate it was interrupted by the thunderous voice of their captain. “HEY NAMI!” he called, fast approaching.

She looked up just in time to see Luffy skidding across the deck toward her, eyes sparkling like he’d just found treasure.

“I cooked! It’s for you!” He held the plate aloft like a sacred offering.

Coming up the steps from the storeroom came the sound of an enraged chef. “You did WHAT?!” Sanji launched himself over the rail. “That’s my kitchen, rubber bastard! YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE THE TARRAGON IS!”

"What's a tarragon?” Luffy asked innocently, dodging a flying ladle.

While the two bickered, Nami cautiously regarded the offering.

It wobbled. Like it was grainy jello. Or alive.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I dunno,” Luffy said proudly. “I just kept adding stuff until it looked cool!”

Robin leaned over. “Is that ketchup?”

“And berries!” Luffy added. “For the sweet AND the kick.”

Nami grimaced but took a tentative bite. The flavor ambushed her immediately. Her eyes watered. Her expression twisted like her taste buds were going through a midlife crisis.

From the side, Sanji rushed over with a glass of water and a slice of melon like an emergency medic. “Nami-swan, quick! Before the flavor sinks in too deep!”

But Luffy missed every bit of her reaction. He was too busy staring at something else: her feet. “Huh,” he muttered. “Didn’t curl.”

Nami almost choked on the melon. “What?”

“My food,” Luffy said, completely serious. “You ate it, but your toes didn’t curl. Sanji said food could make toes curl in delight. So I cooked for you.”

There was a long pause, then Nami snorted, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Luffy, you’re a better captain than a cook.”

Luffy grinned. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Robin flipped a page in her book. Calmly, sweetly, with the timing of a master bomb-dropper, she said, “I bet there are other ways to make her toes curl."

Nami’s soul left her body. Her face went crimson.

Robin didn't lift her head from her book, but she did allow a small smile to curve her lips. Their reactions were much more entertaining than her story.

Sanji collapsed in the background like he’d been mortally wounded.

Luffy blinked, looking from Nami to Robin and back again. “Like what?”

“Don’t answer that,” Nami said through clenched teeth, shooting a warning glare at Robin.

The archaeologist chuckled and mimed locking her lips.

Luffy pouted a bit, then shrugged. But he still glanced at Nami’s toes like they were keeping secrets.

Nami dropped her face into her hands. “Why do I like you,” she muttered, more to the universe than to him.

“Because I’m awesome?” Luffy offered helpfully.

“Stop talking.”

“Want me to go cook again?”

“I will throw myself overboard. Or you. Probably you.”

He just beamed, completely undeterred.

Robin, not yet satisfied with the chaos, turned the page. “I wonder if we have whipped cream...”

Nami screamed into her palms.

Luffy perked up. “Whipped cream... that sounds like a good plan.”

“Robin,” Nami muttered, “If he tries to cook again, I’m blaming you.”

Chapter Text

It was a peaceful afternoon on the Sunny. A bit hot, but otherwise beautiful weather.

Nami lay stretched on her lounge chair, basking in the sun, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. She had her sunglasses on, her iced citrus drink in hand, and the faint sound of Robin flipping a page beside her. Perfect.

Until she heard the words that should have warned her. “Gomu Gomu no…”

Nami didn’t even have time to sit up.

“WIND BALLOON!!” A violent blast of air slammed across the deck. Her hair went flying, her drink toppled, and she clung to the lounge chair to keep from flipping backward. A napkin slapped onto Robin’s face. The breeze passed as suddenly as it came.

Luffy landed with a huff in front of them, deflating like a popped balloon, smiling brightly. “Nami! Did it work?!”

She whipped her hair out of her face. “Did WHAT work?”

“Did your toes curl?”

There was a beat of silence. Robin daintily removed the napkin from her face and resumed reading, expression carefully schooled.

“My what?” Nami blinked.

“Sanji said that when something’s really good, your toes curl! I can’t do food good, so I made you feel a really good breeze!”

Nami glared at him. “You almost launched me into the ocean!”

“So… not good?” Luffy asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Not even a little.”

“Dang.”

Robin turned a page, amusement tugging at her lips. “A bold first attempt.”

A couple hours later, Luffy was back.

This time, he approached cautiously—no yelling, no wind blasts. Just wide eyes and something hidden behind his back.

Nami was brushing sand off her chair. She narrowed her eyes as Luffy got closer. “If you’re about to hurl gale force winds at me again—”

“I’m not!” he said quickly, then stepped forward and gently placed his most prized possession—his straw hat—on her head.

She froze. The weight of the hat was oddly familiar. Warm from his head, a little too big.  He looked very proud.

“There! Do your toes curl now?”

She blinked at him. “...what?”

“You like my hat, right? You always take care of it. I thought… it makes me feel good, maybe it would make you feel good too. And if good things make your toes curl, it might work!”

There was something oddly sweet in the gesture, and Nami had to stop herself from smiling. “You’re such an idiot,” she muttered, flicking his forehead lightly. “Thanks for letting me wear it.”

“No curl though?” he asked, crouching and staring at her toes with complete focus.

“Luffy.”

“Dang,” he mumbled again, plucking the hat back and slinging it on. “Okay, back to thinking!”

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew had gathered quietly below decks at the behest of Robin. She was calling it a crew meeting. Zoro had to be bribed with alcohol. Brook brought a notepad. Chopper held a clipboard. Usopp wheeled in the chalkboard.

Robin, as always, sat calmly at the center of it all.

“So,” she began, folding her hands, “our beloved Captain has a new mission.”

“Let me guess,” Zoro muttered. “Find the One Piece. Fight a sea god. Wrestle a cloud.”

Robin’s smile turned mischievous. “No. He’s trying to make Nami’s toes curl.”

Zoro groaned. “I’m not sure the booze is worth being at this meeting.”

Brook gasped dramatically. “Yohoho! That’s incredibly intimate!”

Franky fist-pumped. “That’s SUPER romantic!”

Sanji’s cigarette nearly dropped from his mouth. “That buffoon is trying to make Nami-swan feel pleasure?! With his cooking?! With his—what is he even doing?!”

“Wind,” Robin answered, serenely. “So far.”

Usopp slapped the chalkboard. “Time to help him out. Gentlemen—and lady—welcome to Operation: Captain Makes Her Toes Curl.”

The board was divided into neat columns, quickly filling up with ideas, doodles, and a worrying amount of enthusiasm.

Chopper’s original idea (“mild, safe stimulant to simulate curling!”) was swiftly vetoed by Robin, who pointed out it would ruin the data if artificial.

He sulked and revised his plan to adorable, heart-shaped vitamin gummies instead. “Full of nutrients and romantic symbolism,” he insisted.

In the end, the board looked like this:

Usopp whispered to Robin, “Do you think Nami would really punch someone for kissing Luffy?”

Robin’s smile widened. “I think she might, but that’s not curled toes.”

Luffy sat on the figurehead, legs swinging over the sea, hat tilted back, deep in thought. The breeze brushed past, and he watched the waves, lips pursed in serious consideration. “Hmm… maybe if I give her meat and the hat at the same time…” He nodded to himself. “I’ll figure it out. I just gotta keep trying.”

Behind him, hidden from sight, Robin and Usopp leaned around the corner of the cabin, quietly placing their bets.

“Three berries on the picnic failing,” Usopp whispered.

“Ten berries on her blushing before the week is out,” Robin countered, sipping her tea.

Below deck, the chalkboard glowed with new energy, updated with fresh ideas and adjusted odds.

The mission was clear.

The captain was determined.

And the crew was way too involved.

Chapter Text

Nami was double-checking course projections at the map table when she heard soft footsteps behind her.

She didn’t look up. “Unless someone’s dying, the ship is on fire, or you’ve found buried treasure, I’m busy.”

A moment passed.

“…What if it’s vitamins?” Luffy said hopefully.

That made her glance over her shoulder.

He stood there holding a little glass jar. Inside were bright red, heart-shaped gummies with a big “B12!” label stuck to the side in Chopper’s handwriting. The lid was sealed with a gold sticker and had a tiny bow on top. Luffy thrust it out at her like he was handing her a treasure chest.

“Nami! These are good for your heart and your brain and also maybe your toes. Do they curl yet?”

She stared at the jar. Then at him. “You’re giving me… vitamins?”

He nodded vigorously.

“And you think they’ll make my toes curl.”

He blinked. “They’re shaped like hearts.”

There was something so absurdly earnest in his expression that Nami sighed and accepted the jar. “Thanks, Luffy. I’ll, uh… take one later.”

Luffy grinned. “Okay! Let me know if it works!” He dashed off.

Nami set the jar on her desk, blinked down at the little gummies, and muttered, “What is happening lately?”

Robin, seated nearby, sipped her tea. “I’m sure the answer’s in your heart. Or perhaps… your toes.”

Nami let her head drop back and groaned at the ceiling.

Later that afternoon, Luffy showed up again. “Nami! I built something with Franky! Get in!”

That should have been her first clue to run.

Instead, she was dragged below deck where, to her horror, Franky had retrofitted a single-passenger Mini-Merry cart onto a rail system that went nowhere in particular—just loops around the interior rigging of the ship.

“I call it the Super Spiral Spin-n-Slide!” Franky announced proudly. “Patent pending!”

“This is safe?” Nami asked warily.

“Totally!” Franky lied, giving two thumbs up and absolutely no safety instructions.

The ride lasted forty-two seconds.

She screamed for twenty-one of them, gripped the rail for the other half, and was ejected into a net at the end—frazzled, disheveled, and on the verge of murder.

Luffy, however, loved it. He bounced up. “That was awesome, right?! Were your toes curling?!”

Nami’s voice was strangled. “Luffy. My spleen curled.”

He looked slightly disappointed. “Dang.”

Franky, unfazed, turned to Brook. “Needs more fire next time.”

Chopper hid (badly) by the doorframe, watching and adding notes to his quickly growing file.

Chopper’s Observation Log – Entry #27

Subject: Nami
Incident: Super Spiral Spin-n-Slide
Symptoms: Dizziness, mild whiplash, verbal spleen complaints.
Toe Curl Status: Probable negative.
Note: Recommend avoiding mechanically-based vestibular stimulation attempts. Captain unaffected. Possibly enjoyed too much.

*Conclusion: Thrill-induced curling = unreliable. Further testing discouraged.

On deck, the sound of clashing blades rang out as Zoro and Luffy trained near the mast.

Or rather… Zoro trained.

Luffy was doing backflips and occasionally remembering to dodge.

Zoro growled. “Focus, idiot!”

“I am focused!” Luffy insisted.

“Not on training!”

Luffy bounced on his feet. “Hey Zoro?”

“No. Shut it.”

“But you’re cool. Girls probably like you.”

Zoro scowled. “What does that have to do with anything?!”

Luffy grinned. “Do you have ideas on making Nami’s toes curl?”

Zoro dropped his sword mid-swing.

“I can honestly say,” he said slowly, “I have never wanted to think about that. Not once. Not ever.”

“Really? I think it’d be cool.”

Zoro stared at him, willing him to shut up, or at least switch topics.

Luffy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe if I do something awesome, she’ll like it. I just have to impress her.”

Zoro picked up his sword again. “You know what would impress me? If you actually trained.”

Luffy gasped. “Training… near Nami!”

Zoro immediately regretted speaking.

“Thanks Zoro! That’s a great idea!” Luffy zipped off toward the front of the boat.

Zoro lowered his sword and muttered darkly, “I hate this ship."

Later that evening, the Sunny sailed smooth and steady under a sky streaked with gold.

On the open deck, Luffy was… training. Sort of. He was throwing punches, doing weird high jumps, and occasionally somersaulting for no clear reason. His movements were erratic, but focused—in his way. He even grunted occasionally, which he clearly thought made it more legit.

Nami sat nearby in her lounge chair, book in hand, sunglasses on. She wasn’t watching him, of course. She had a book. Books were interesting.

Totally reading.

She turned a page…after seven minutes.

Robin, seated beside her with her own book, didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

Nami shifted slightly in her chair. She was absolutely not watching the light sheen of sweat on Luffy’s arms or the way the sea breeze ruffled his hair. She wasn’t wondering if maybe this new training streak was connected to his bizarre recent antics.

Not at all.

She turned another page. This time, four minutes.

The sunglasses helped. She didn’t have to admit she was looking.

"Whatever's gotten into him,” Nami muttered under her breath, “I guess it's not the worst thing." She turned another page without glancing at it. "Not doing much for my toes, but at least my eyes are happy."

Robin smiled without looking up. “Mm. Progress is rarely instant.”

In the distance, Luffy grinned to himself and threw a high kick straight up, narrowly missing a passing seagull.

Chapter Text

It started with a chalkboard.

Tucked away below deck, behind a barrel of tangerines and suspiciously close to the emergency snacks stash, Nami found it.

The words “Operation: Captain Makes Her Toes Curl” were emblazoned at the top in bold, dramatic lettering. Underneath it, a grid of names, ideas, and “odds of success” in red marker.

Nami stared at it for a long moment. Then her eyes narrowed. “Oh,” she said quietly and a bit dangerously. “So this is why it’s been weirder than usual.”

She scanned the names, the scribbles, the fluctuating odds—Franky had made charts—and her mouth curled into a smirk.

“Romantic picnic? Love letters?” She snorted. “Idiots. He’d eat the letter and forget the picnic.”

Her smirk sharpened. There was no way she was going to let someone else win a bet. Not when she was pretty sure she had more game than the entire rest of the crew, at least when their advice was filtered through Luffy. 

She plucked the chalk from its holder, drew a new line beneath the main table, and in confident strokes wrote:

Operation: Curl His Toes First

Under it, one name.

Contestant: Nami

Time to see what flusters rubber, she thought to herself with a smile.

And just like that, the game changed.

Later that morning, Luffy was sitting cross-legged on a barrel beside Usopp, listening intently to a totally factual tale about a sea dragon with laser breath and a secret vendetta against dials. “—and then I said, ‘You’ll never get my sea chicken!’” Luffy cheered and chuckled. Nami walked by, fingers trailing lightly down Luffy’s arm as she passed.

He froze mid-laugh.

“And then the dragon—wait, Luffy?” Usopp asked, waving his hand in front of the captain’s eyes.

Luffy blinked, snapped out of it, and glanced back at Nami, who threw him a smile over her shoulder. His cheeks warmed unexpectedly. “…I forgot what you were saying,” he muttered.

Usopp frowned. “That never happens. You okay?”

Luffy rubbed the back of his neck. “Dunno. Nami just touched me.”

Brook, standing nearby, ran to inform The Board.

He was sitting on the railing, fishing pole dangling over the side. Nothing had bitten in over twenty minutes.

Then she appeared beside him.

Nami leaned in and gently rested her head against his shoulder. “I hope you catch something good for me, Captain.”

Luffy went very still. He didn’t totally understand what was happening, but his heart definitely tried to launch itself into the ocean. He gripped the pole tighter. Fishing success had never felt so important.

“I will,” he said immediately. “The biggest one ever.”

She hummed and smiled at him.

The fish didn’t bite, but Luffy didn’t care.

Back at the chalkboard, Franky updated Nami’s odds to 5:1 with a note: “Psychological warfare confirmed. Super effective.”

It was late. The sky was black velvet, the stars pinpricks overhead. Luffy was on watch, lounging against the figurehead, hat pulled low as he gazed out at the sea.

He didn’t hear her until she was close. And then she leaned even closer, her lips a hair’s breadth from his ear.

“I’m really glad you chose me as your navigator,” she whispered softly.

Luffy’s entire brain stuttered. His eyes went wide. His hat slid slightly down over his brow. His hand came up like he might reach for her, but she was already slipping away.

She disappeared toward her room, not looking back. 

He didn’t move for five minutes. Not even a blink.

He could still feel her breath by his ear.

Zoro passed by on his way up from a nighttime snack raid, took one look at the frozen rubber captain, and muttered, “Oh hell no. I’m not getting involved in round two.”

The next morning, the crew gathered around the chalkboard. Robin, unsurprised, was already sipping her tea nearby.

Brook was pacing in delighted panic. “I did not see the counterattack coming! What a stunning reversal!”

Franky had literal tears in his eyes. “This ship! These idiots! I’ve never felt more alive!”

Usopp, staring at Nami’s entry, muttered, “Wait, does this mean she knows about the board? Is she playing to win? I didn’t sign up to be a pawn!”

Chopper added a new page to his file. Captain: High Heart Rate + Sudden Stillness + Awkward Blinking = Flustered. Diagnosis: Success??

Sanji stared at the chart with his arms crossed. “Fine. If this is happening, I’m stepping up my game. A proper picnic will absolutely outperform subtle sabotage.”

Zoro entered, saw the updates, and turned right back around.

Robin smiled at the chaos and murmured, “I do love a good match.”

Somewhere above, on the deck, Nami hummed a little to herself and stretched out in the sun.

The wind was in her favor.

And Luffy, poor thing, didn’t even know the sails were turning.

Chapter Text

Brook’s “plan” began at sunrise.

It was... a lot.

He appeared on the deck with a flourish, trailing a crimson cape and a portable speaker Franky rigged for him out of morbid curiosity.

“Luffy, my boy!” Brook declared, one skeletal hand resting dramatically on his clavicle. “Romance is music! Let her feel the depths of your passion through song!”

Without further warning, Brook pressed play.

Electric guitar blared from the speakers—intense, thrashing, wildly inappropriate for morning or wooing. Luffy clutched the lyrics Brook had provided as he bobbed his head, waiting for the cue to start. Nami came outside mid-verse, bleary-eyed and pajama-clad.

She paused, sleepy brain trying to take in the scene before her.

The tempo surged into what could only be described as musical whiplash. Guitar solos screamed. Luffy tried to keep up, squinting at the sheet music like it was written in code.

Brook flashed Luffy double finger-guns: his signal to start. The gleeful captain stepped up, heartily singing the lyrics composed by the skeleton. “SAY THE WORD NAMI AND I’LL GIVE YOU MY BONES–”

Brook on backup vocals echoed, “Give you my booones—!”

“Nope,” Nami said firmly, turned around, and shut the door behind her.

Robin, returning to her reading in bed, murmured, “Bold opening.”

Franky, gleefully recording odds on the chalkboard, updated Brook’s entry to 1:∞ and drew a skull emoji next to it.

Later that day, Luffy sat on the railing near the tangerine trees, a little dazed from Brook’s metal opera.

He didn’t hear Nami approach.

She walked up, took his hand gently in hers, and used her fingers to splay his palm open. He blinked at her, curious.

Then she plucked a tangerine from one of her trees, placed it delicately into his open hand, and closed his fingers over it.

“You looked like you could use a treat,” she said, her voice low and warm. “Captain.”

She smiled and walked away.

Luffy stared at the fruit like it had whispered a secret to him. His heart did an odd flip-flop thing. Then it did it again. His stomach felt like when Sunny launched into the sky. He held the tangerine tightly in both hands, then stuffed it in his hat for safekeeping.

Chopper noted the symptoms silently from a barrel. Flushed face, mild shortness of breath, and whispering to a piece of fruit. Diagnosis: dangerously smitten.

Determined to push past his confusion (and to see toes curl), Luffy found Sanji in the kitchen and dropped into a chair. “Hey Sanji. Teach me. Like, all of it. How to be a lady’s guy.”

Sanji dropped the whisk. “You want me to teach you how to woo the goddess?”

Luffy blinked. “Woo?”

Sanji launched into a dramatic crash course. He laid out a notebook and began sketching an elaborate diagram labeled ’The Path of the Gentleman.’ It had arrows, labeled steps, and a curiously muscular heart in the corner. His lecture detailed all the Rules of Romance, which Luffy found to be contradictory most of the time.

“You walk on the dangerous side of the road—”

“But what if we’re not on a road?”

“—you open every door—”

“But you said ladies go first, so how do I beat her to the door?”

“—you compliment her.”

“Oh! I do that already! I told her she punches real good.”

Sanji cringed. “Normal compliments. Her hair, her smile—romantic remarks befitting a radiant angel such as Nami!”

He detailed an ideal picnic spread: oysters (“romance food”), wine (“mood-setter”), and chocolate-dipped berries (“toe-curler certified”), adding that they would gather the supplies when they next docked.

Luffy nodded earnestly… then sprinted away the moment the lesson ended.

Nami had barely made it ten steps from her drafting table when Luffy appeared, basket in hand, grinning wide. “Let’s go! We’re having a picnic!”

She laughed, bemused. “What—right now?”

“Yup! I made a basket! I got the chocolate things and the berry things and the meat stuff. It’s gonna be great!”

Sanji’s wail echoed from below deck: “You were supposed to wait until the next island, damn you—”

Nami tilted her head that direction. “You know what that’s about?”

Luffy replied, “He just wanted me to wait for oysters. But waiting’s dumb, and I got the closest thing.” He grinned, full of confidence, and Nami knew this “closest thing” was going to be interesting.

“Lead the way then, Captain.”

Ten minutes later, Nami and Luffy sat under a sun sail with a blanket and what looked like the contents of the ship’s emergency rations tossed artfully into a basket. He proudly held out a handful of jerky and trail mix like it was treasure.

“See?” he beamed. “Chocolate. Berries. Meat. All in one!”

She stared at the mix, then at him.

He looked so proud.

She reached out, touched his cheek, and lightly stroked her thumb along his cheekbone.

“It was a sweet try,” she said softly.

Luffy blinked. His breath hitched. He knew deep in his heart that oysters couldn't have been better than this.

And then—he grinned like he’d just won the Grand Line.

High above, in the crow’s nest, Usopp pressed a tiny snail mic to his mouth like he was hosting the final match of a world tournament. “We’ve got movement on the port side, the Captain has been visibly rattled! Nami just pulled a Class-A Cheek Stroke. Possible fluster detected!”

Sanji’s voice crackled back through the receiver. “Did his toes curl?!”

“Negative! Minor twitch only! But she's leaning in. She has declared it a race, folks! The battlefield has shifted.”

Brook chimed in on the line, solemn as death: “Truly, this is a duet of destinies.”

Chapter Text

Below deck, the chalkboard had become a living, breathing organism. It now spanned most of a wall.

Operation: Captain Makes Her Toes Curl

Status: Chaotic Neutral

Subsection: Operation Curl His Toes First

Status: Aggressively Active

Current tallies showed:

• Nami: 2 toe-wobble-inducing events
• Luffy: 0 confirmed curls, 2 questionable physiological responses, 1 accidental cheekstroke success

Brook had drawn a violin next to his name, labeled RIP. He told everyone R was for Romance. Zoro continued threatening to erase the board every time he saw it. Chopper had given up on subtlety and now labeled both Luffy and Nami’s columns “Active Symptom Watch.”

And then, Robin struck again.

Luffy sat with his legs flung over the railing, chewing absentmindedly on a snack when Robin sauntered over with her usual quiet confidence.

“Captain,” she said smoothly, “I’ve noticed you and our navigator share a deep fondness for discovery.”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “She likes to map stuff, and I like to find stuff!”

Robin adjusted her gloves. “Perhaps… you should do some exploration together. And with a hands-on approach,” she added with a sly smile, “you may make progress toward your objective.”

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Because of the hands!”

She inclined her head. “Exactly.”

When they reached the next island—a misty, rocky cove with dense jungles—Luffy all but pounced on Nami.

“Nami! Let’s go explore! Robin said it’s good for hands!”

“…What?”

But she was already being tugged toward the island, Luffy’s fingers wrapped tightly around hers.

It started sweet. He enthusiastically pointed out every cool plant, fluffy cloud, and shiny rock. Nami made small notes aloud, mildly amused. And then she made louder ones, less amused, when the subject of his focus was some weird bug.

Fifteen minutes in, she tried to shake him off.

“Luffy, I need both hands to write—”

“Nope. Robin said do hand stuff.”

Nami’s cheeks flamed. “Oh she did, did she?” Luffy just bobbed his head and grinned, dedicated to keeping their palms together. The way I will enjoy eviscerating my roommate.. Nami fumed as they continued their trek.

Twenty minutes in, she was fully dragging his dead weight every time he stopped to check out something awesome.

Forty minutes in, she finally declared, “We’re going back. Or at least I am, with or without this hand,” she declared, holding up his hand that clutched hers.

Back on Sunny, she retreated to the map room, relieved to have her space again.

For all of two minutes.

Luffy wandered in, apparently still committed to hand time - after all Robin was one of the smartest people he knew so surely this advice would work - but Nami's hands were busy sketching the new coastline.

So he adapted.

He plopped down beside her, slouched low in the chair, and casually dropped his hand onto her bare knee like he’d seen Sanji do to barmaids. Smooth. Strategic - if you count “nearest available surface” as strategy. 

Still, Nami froze. His warm palm on her leg was not high, not risky - but it felt dangerous. Wait. Was that her toe threatening to twitch?

She kept her voice still. “Whatcha doin’ Luffy?”

“I’m just hanging with you. We’ve still got time for hand stuff.”

Her brain screeched. How dare this dork be accidentally flirty? “OUT!” she shouted.

Luffy blinked. “You seem red. Did your toes curl?”

“NO!” she yelled, shoving him backward with one foot. “I just need to work!”

The door slammed in his face.

Luffy stood outside, staring at the closed door thoughtfully. “That felt like a different ‘no’…” He filed it away in the increasingly crowded mental folder labeled Important Nami Stuff and wandered off toward the kitchen.

A captain can’t strategize on an empty stomach.

The island hadn’t been uninhabited.

As the Straw Hats finished stowing their newly gathered supplies, a rival band of pirates thought it wise to raid the Sunny. They were wrong.

The crew engaged like a well-oiled storm, mainly letting the trio of Zoro, Sanji, and Luffy take care of the not-so-threatening threat. Zoro cut through the front line. Sanji flash-cooked three enemies with his flaming heel. Brook was singing again, for morale, or maybe just flair.

Luffy had just launched himself into the air, cracking his fists together midair, when—

“You know.. Captain” came Nami’s voice, smooth and honeyed, “you look really good while you’re fighting.”

Luffy froze mid-punch.

His eyes widened. His mouth opened. His arms forgot what they were doing.

The rival pirate didn’t forget. His fist collided squarely with Luffy’s jaw, knocking him sideways into a crate of stolen supplies.

“LUFFY!” Sanji roared angrily at his captain, spin-kicking the enemy into low orbit. “ARE YOU FLIRTING DURING A BATTLE?”

Nami merely giggled and winked from her spot on her lounge chair as Zoro and Sanji picked up the short-circuited captain’s slack.

Franky whooped. “Seduced in the air—now that’s Super-Advanced Level Nami!”

“We’re going to need to make a whole new category for ‘Distractions During Combat’ now,” exclaimed Usopp.

Chopper held up his clipboard. “Captain’s blood pressure spiked mid-punch. That’s never happened before.”

Robin sipped her tea, smiling. “One more for the board, I think.” She delicately chalked a new mark under Nami’s name, humming softly. “Weaponized flattery. Devastating.”

Chapter Text

Below deck, the chalkboard had become a problem.

It now stretched most of the wall, spilling over onto pinned notecards and the surrounding wood planks. Franky had installed backlighting. Brook had attempted a glitter border (denied). Robin was compiling footnotes. The crew was no longer pretending they weren’t obsessed.

Operation: Captain Makes Her Toes Curl
Status: Chaotic Neutral

Subsection: Operation Curl His Toes First
Status: Aggressively Active

Current tallies showed:
• Nami: 3 toe-wobble-inducing events
• Luffy: 0 confirmed curls, 2 physiological anomalies, 1 cheekstroke success (pending)

New entries had been scribbled onto the board in different handwriting styles:

Sanji: Strategic Shirtlessness → “His wardrobe is terrible. He might as well show off the abs.”
Usopp: Rope Swing Date → “Height = Drama. Drama = Romance.”
Brook: New Ballad: ‘The Curl of the Toe Is the Heart’s True Woe’ → scratched out by Zoro with the note: “Absolutely not.”

“I swear to every Sea King,” Zoro muttered, eyeing a new limerick, “if I see one more poetry line on this thing—”

“Then you’re admitting you’re watching closely?” Robin asked sweetly, not looking up from her book.

Zoro left the room immediately.

Meanwhile, Chopper had added two new observations to the “Symptom Watch” column:

• Subject A (Luffy): Disrupted battle focus. Possible cardiac flutter.
  
  
• Subject B (Nami): Shortened verbal responses. Fluctuating vocal tone. May explode.
  
  

The crew was taking this very seriously.

Later that afternoon, Luffy lay on the deck with his "journal" open across his chest. Yes, he had one; it was a sketchpad. Mostly it was filled with doodles of meats with names like “Dream Steak” and “Meat I Saw Once in a Dream.” But today, he’d tried something different.

He was attempting to map the last island from memory—badly.

Chopper wandered by, glanced down, and tilted his head. “Luffy, uh… why is this section just a bunch of trees with hearts in them?”

Luffy blinked at the drawing. “Huh. I didn’t even notice I did that. I think it's supposed to be fruit.”

“…And that’s Nami next to the tree, right?”

“Oh yeah!” he beamed. “From when she leaned her head on my shoulder. That was nice.”

Chopper gave a slow nod, made a mental note, and walked away muttering: “Adding ‘Absentminded Infatuation’ under Subject A…”

Nami, meanwhile, was pacing the deck with a quiet tension.

No curled toes yet. Not quite. But something in her chest kept pulling her toward the game—not for the points, but because it felt like watching a storm roll in on the horizon. Unavoidable. Building. And she wanted to meet it head-on.

She decided to try something subtle. Sweeter. Calibrated.

Her first attempt came as Luffy passed by eating a snack. She smiled at him before reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat and smooth the fabric of his shirt by his shoulders. “You’re looking very captain-y today,” she murmured in a voice as smooth as sea silk.

Luffy froze. His snack slipped from his fingers. It bounced off his foot.

From behind a barrel, Chopper popped up like a gopher, scribbling on his clipboard.

“Sudden hand weakness?” he whispered.

Nami lounged near the figurehead, half-lying across a bench as Luffy stared out at the sea from his favorite perch. She didn’t look at him, didn’t speak. Just turned a page in her book every few minutes.

Then she started humming. Quietly. Familiar.

Luffy perked up. “Hey! That’s the tune Brook played during the cherry blossoms festival! I remember that day.”

“Mm,” Nami said, still reading. “It reminded me of Drum. I liked how it made my heart feel.”

Luffy’s brain flatlined. He turned slowly back to the wheel like someone had just told him fire was wet.

Robin, observing from the shadows as always, murmured, “Subtle play. Good tempo.”

Chopper passed by. “Do I write that down?”

“Definitely.”

That night, Luffy sat on Sunny’s figurehead, hat tipped back, legs swinging off the prow. The sky was clear. Stars glittered like they knew secrets.

“She makes my chest all hot,” he mumbled to no one.

He frowned. “But not like fever-hot. More like… inside-a-campfire hot. Like it’s supposed to be hot.”

A pause.

“She makes me wanna jump up and run around—but also just sit still and look at her face. And she makes dumb stuff like knees and fingers seem cool.”

Another pause. Longer.

“…Is that what curling toes means?”

He stared at his feet.

Wiggled his toes. Stared harder.

From behind the mast, Brook raised a brow socket, scribbled a note, and crept away like a gentleman ghost.

Back below deck, the chalkboard got a new notation:

Subject A (Luffy):
• “Possible early toe curl event. Under review.”
• “Spontaneous stargazing monologue (unreliably witnessed).”
• “Symptoms escalating.”

Robin stood before the board, sipping her tea, smile quiet and amused. “It won’t be long now,” she murmured.

From the other side of the galley, Zoro glared. “You people need hobbies.”

Robin smiled wider. “We have one. You’re watching it unfold.”

Chapter Text

Luffy had been thinking all morning. Thinking was hard and not usually his thing, but he was determined. He sat upside down on the deck rail—Chopper said it helped with blood flow—trying to deduce what went wrong.

“Hands didn’t work. Leg kinda worked. Hmm.. probably because..” He snapped upright with an epiphany. “The knee is closer to the toes! Sooo…” he continued, brow furrowed in concentration. “The closest thing to toes… is feet!”

His eyes lit up like a man with a new purpose in life. “Foot massage time,” he said decisively, banging his fist against the palm of his other hand.

He launched off the rail and zipped around the ship in search of Nami. He found her reclining in a lounge chair, basking in the sun with a drink in hand, barefoot and unbothered.

Perfect.

Without preamble, he dropped to the ground and snatched one of her feet. Nami, now absolutely bothered, fixed him with a look. “Luffy, what the hell—”

“I’m gonna curl your toes!” he announced, all confidence and bright-eyed optimism, and then he began. Now, in theory, this was meant to be a foot massage. In reality, it was more of a vigorous foot interrogation. Knuckle-y fists pressed against the soles of her feet as if they were the final enemy standing between Luffy and the One Piece.

“OW! Idiot!” Nami shouted, leaning forward to smack him on the head. “What are you doing?!”

Abandoning the footrub to instead rub the new lump on his skull, Luffy pouted. “I was giving you a foot massage, meanie! Your toes are right there so they were gonna curl!”

Nami glared. “You were attacking my feet. All that curled was my fist.”

“Aw man,” Luffy groaned. “Feet don’t work.”

That evening, the crew gathered to listen to Brook pluck out a few soothing songs on the deck. The setting sun painted the sky in streaks of gold and rose. Nami lounged in a chair, one leg casually hooked over the other, drink refilled, mood mostly restored.

Luffy sat beside her on the ground, legs folded, hat hanging down his back. He was unusually quiet, still frustrated from his earlier failure.

Nami, relaxed and lost in the music, let her gaze drift. The sun’s light was casting soft highlights through Luffy’s hair. Her fingers moved before her thoughts caught up. She reached down and threaded them gently through his soft, messy strands.

Luffy made a sound. A little sigh of pure contentment, and a pinch of something else. He leaned into her touch like it was instinct. And then—it happened. He felt it at the tips of his sandals.

A twitch. A flinch. A betraying toe shift.

His eyes went wide. Not a full curl, but danger was close. “I gotta—I just remembered—uh—over there!” he shouted, leaping to his feet and bolting across the deck like it was on fire.

Robin, sipping her tea nearby, tilted her head. “Interesting,” she murmured.

Nami, watching him flee, narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Almost where I want him.”

The next morning, Luffy’s frustration was at critical mass.

He was training with Zoro, or supposed to be. Instead of throwing punches and focusing in, he was pouting and kicking imaginary rocks.

Zoro finally snapped. “Just go kiss the witch and maybe you’ll get your braincell back!” he shouted.

Luffy stopped.

Zoro’s eye twitched. He knew that look on the captain's face. His that's a great idea, let's go! look before doing something stupid. Zoro had never regretted a sarcastic remark so much in his entire life. “…Wait. No. Luffy, don’t—don’t you dare—”

But Luffy was already standing tall. He knew from earlier that hair could affect toes, and hair was all the way on the head. You do kissing with lips, and lips are on the head too. Maybe that's the key. “Thanks, Zoro!” he shouted, already launching himself from the crow’s nest.

Zoro groaned. “Well. Crap.”

Nami stood near the helm, pointing at maps and explaining their route to the next island. The rest of the crew was loosely gathered around, listening and nodding. Until— 

“Hey, Nami!” came the voice of the captain, growing close to the group.

She turned. “Luffy, what now—?”

SMACK

His lips met hers with all the subtlety of a cannonball.

Every conversation stopped. A mug shattered. Brook dropped his violin. Zoro finally caught up to the scene and just buried his face in his hand.

When they broke apart, both stood blinking. Stunned, softly smiling.

The crew noticed none of that, for their eyes had dropped immediately to the bare toes of the pair. For during the kiss, a single toe had curled from each of them. At the exact same time. There was a beat of stunned silence.

“…It happened,” Chopper whispered.

“Simultaneous toe curl,” Usopp gasped.

“Super,” Franky choked out, weeping openly. The bet board would never be the same.

Chapter Text

There was silence.

Then…

“TOE. CURL.” Usopp’s voice broke like a glass pane under a hammer.

“Both of them—BOTH!” Chopper shrieked, pointing to Nami and Luffy’s feet like they were rare museum pieces. “That was synchronized curling! You can’t even get that from vitamin B12 absorption! Do you understand the biological implications?!”

Brook let out a high-pitched “Yohoho!” and broke into an impromptu love ballad—something about “Toe-tally Taken by Love”—which Zoro immediately threatened to end with his sword.

Franky dropped to his knees, overcome. “It’s so… SUPER,” he wept. “They curled in harmony! That’s true romance!”

Sanji, still holding a tray of hors d'oeuvres no one had asked for, stared in abject disbelief. “HE KISSED HER. MY NAMI-SWAN. IN FRONT OF ME.”

Robin sipped her tea, eyes twinkling. “It’s official. I believe we’ve witnessed a successful deployment of Operation Toe Curl.”

Usopp was already hauling the chalkboard up onto the deck, shouting like a carnival barker. “We have a curl confirmation! Crew, check your bets! Who predicted the first kiss?! Who gets the payout?!”

Luffy blinked.

His lips still tingled.

His toe—he noticed this belatedly—had curled instinctively, like it had been caught in a riptide of cool.

Also, her lips had been really soft.

Also also, her mouth tasted like tangerines. That felt important.

He blinked again and turned to find the swordsman watching him like a man regretting every life choice that led him here.

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Zoro! Your idea totally worked! She almost got me earlier with the hair, but man—the lips. That part did the curl for sure! Thanks!”

Zoro went rigid. “NO—wait, no no no,” he sputtered, backing up as the crew turned towards him.

“You’re the one who told him to kiss her?!” Usopp gasped.

“It was sarcastic!” Zoro barked, backing away. “I didn’t mean—he was being an idiot—!”

Chopper waved his clipboard. “But it worked! That’s a direct cause-effect chain of command suggestion!”

“WINNER!” Franky howled, hoisting Zoro’s name tag to the top of the leaderboard.

“I DIDN’T WANT THIS,” the swordsman tried to wave them off

“Mosshead?” Sanji hurled a handful of finger sandwiches directly at him. “Of all people, it had to be you?!”

“Excuse me,” came the navigator’s deceptively calm voice from behind the group. “Did I just hear Zoro won?”

Nami had been frozen in place since the kiss. Somewhere in her mind, metaphorical fireworks were still going off. Her heart was thudding a little louder than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t pushed him away. She hadn’t even gotten mad.

In fact, part of her was ready to pull him back. But then...

“Zoro’s the winner!”

That yanked her straight out of her daze.

Absolutely not, she thought to herself.. I am not about to lose this bet. And to Zoro?! She fumed as she turned towards the group gathered around the bet board.

"Did I just hear Zoro won?" She stalked toward the chalkboard, heels of her sandals echoing like a death knell across the deck.


Nami grabbed the chalk with controlled fury and turned, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Do none of you pay attention to your own chalkboard?”

Usopp swallowed. “I mean… we do?” He hoped that would be the safest answer.

She tapped the top of the board with pointed force. “It says Toes—plural. Not toe. Singular. What happened was one toe each. That’s not a win. That’s barely a flirtation. The game,” she said, chalk dancing in her hand, “is still afoot.”

She underlined Toes.

Twice.

The assembled chorus on deck exploded again.

“Wait, she’s extending the match?”

Franky pumped both fists in the air, tears already streaming. “The game's still on?! We get BONUS ROUNDS?! THIS IS THE MOST SUPER LOVE STORY OF OUR ERA!” He immediately started labeling a new subsection on the bet board as Overtime Showdown Rules.

“Oh no. Oh no, she’s going to make our captain spontaneously combust, yohoho.”

“I need to start sketching new probability trees!” Chopper said, flipping pages.

Robin chuckled into her tea, unbothered. “She’s escalating. Wonderful.”

“Does that mean she’s still playing to win?” Usopp immediately backed up two steps. “I’m gonna need emotional hazard pay,” he muttered.

Luffy was laughing uproariously. “That was funny, Nami,” he told her, grinning like a puppy who just learned a new trick. “The game is a foot! Because toes are on feet!”

Nami looked skyward. “Not ‘a foot’, idiot, I said.. You know what, nevermind.”

Sanji fell to his knees again. “You chose him? HIM?! With the hat and the rubber and the brain made of clouds?!”

Nami rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, yeah… trust me, I’m still asking myself the same question.” She peeked at Luffy, who was beaming at her like she’d just handed him a lifetime supply of meat. He was ridiculous. Utterly, irreparably ridiculous.

Yet some part of her mind still hadn’t shut up about wanting to pull him back in. And despite herself…she smiled.

Chapter Text

The Bet Board had become a living document.

Every hour, a new line appeared. New tallies. New theories. Usopp had added a color-coding system for “confirmed flusters.” Chopper had drawn a bar graph titled “Captain Heart Rate Spikes by Tactic.”

It was disturbingly thorough.

Robin took notes. Not to add to the board—just for her own private amusement.

Franky had offered to install pyrotechnics around the chalkboard. He was vetoed only because Brook suggested accompanying sound effects.

But while the crew plotted below deck, above deck…the real war was heating up.

Nami had taken to dressing slightly more loosely than usual. Breezy shirts that slid off one shoulder if she “wasn’t paying attention.” A few new accessories that might catch the captain’s eye whenever she casually leaned over him.

She was a strategist, after all. She knew she had strengths, and she was discovering her opponent’s weaknesses.

So when Luffy was lying across the deck rail, idly watching clouds, she struck.

She leaned over, all faux-casual, lips nearly touching his ear. “Whatcha thinking about… Captain?” she cooed.

His shoulders jumped like she’d zapped him.

Nami pulled back with a smile. She could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.

“Meat,” he muttered after a beat. “I was thinking about meat.”

“Mm. Sure you were.” She walked off, swaying a little more than usual, and made sure to toss her hair over her shoulder when she glanced back at him. She didn’t look at the way his hands gripped the railing.

She didn’t have to.

She thought she had the upper hand. But then—then—it happened.

They were approaching the next island, her at the helm, Luffy on the figurehead scanning the coastline, eager to hop off and get to exploring.”Settle down, Luffy. We’ll be docked in just a couple minutes.”

He turned to look at her.. and winked. Deliberate, oozing confidence and bravado.

Nami froze. Visibly. Like a clock that had forgotten how to tick.

He turned back around, stretched to grab a tree on the coast, and rocketed himself ashore.

Nami squinted at his back.

No. No, he’s not allowed to wink like that when he’s about to slingshot himself over the ocean like a circus act. He doesn’t get wink privileges. It’s cocky, and obnoxious…

And yet…her mind continued to supply her with the moment his confident face sought her out. To wink at her. And her heart did that annoying skip thing. She hated it, or felt like she should at least.

Fully docking the ship, she gritted her teeth and muttered, “He’s cute. Sometimes. I guess.”

By now, Nami had narrowed down a short list of what definitely flustered her captain.

• Whispers near his ear (bonus if they were about any pirate-adjacent success)
• Saying “Captain” in a voice she wouldn’t use in public.
• Touching his hair.

That last one was gold.

She wasn’t sure why. Was it because with his hat on most of the time, his scalp was just touch-starved? Or perhaps it was because his hair didn't seem as rubbery as the rest of him. Maybe that upped the sensitivity?

No matter the reason, any time her fingers ran through his messy black strands, he leaned into it like a cat being scratched. His eyes would glaze over. Sometimes he'd sigh like he forgot how to keep air inside.

She weaponized it ruthlessly.

But Luffy was stumbling his way into flustering her right back—and it was starting to show.

Once, he caught her dozing in the shade and gently tucked a blanket around her shoulders. When she opened one eye, he just whispered, “Didn’t want you cold,” and gave her the softest smile she'd ever seen on him.

She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from audibly sighing, but her heart still hummed contentedly.

Another time, he caught her eye across the deck, grinned, and just held her gaze. Like he was thinking something private. Something warm.

She’d looked away first.

She would not admit it made her insides do a weird flip. She would not.

Robin watched it all from the upper deck, serene and smug.

She opened to a page in her journal titled “Progression of Mutual Weakness Points: Field Observations” and studiously recorded all observations.

The sun was beginning to dip low, casting a gold sheen over the Sunny’s deck. Nami had just managed to corner Luffy by the mast, her hand casually trailing along his shoulder. She was about to launch a particularly devilish “Captain~” in Luffy’s direction when a shout from Usopp on lookout split the moment.

“SHIP STARBOARD!”

All heads turned.

There, gleaming in the low light like a royal parade float, was a ship that practically oozed with excess. Ornate, shimmering, unnecessarily gilded. The sea itself looked embarrassed to be under it.

“Is that…a pink house on that ship?” Chopper asked, blinking.

Franky adjusted his shades. “That’s definitely super pink. Almost a palace.”

And on the bow, one leg delicately lifted, arm outstretched as if commanding the very wind, stood none other than Boa Hancock, Empress of the Kuja, pride of Amazon Lily.

“LUFFY!” she sang, clasping her hands together.

Luffy, stepping away from Nami for a better view at the approaching vessel, squinted for half a second and then beamed. “Oh! It’s Hancock!” He waved both arms. “HEY HANCOCK!”

Nami’s smile vanished like it owed her money. She scowled, eyes narrowing behind her sunglasses—but then just as quickly, she smoothed her expression, slipping on her game face with the precision of someone drawing battle lines.

Robin sipped her tea and murmured, “Well. This should spice things up.”

Chapter Text

The ship pulled alongside the Sunny with theatrical sparkle. Boa Hancock didn’t just step aboard—she descended, flanked by sparkles that absolutely no one else could see. Her cape fluttered despite the still air. Her hair shimmered in its own private spotlight.

“LUFFY!” she cried, leaping toward him with arms outstretched.

He caught her with the ease of someone catching a tossed melon, and dropped her to her feet with about the same style. “Hey, Hancock! You wanna hang out?”

Robin raised a brow. Sanji let out a choking sound. Nami’s grip on the rail tightened like she needed something to strangle.

“Oh, darling,” Hancock cooed, twirling a lock of her hair and gazing around with polished disinterest at the rest of the Straw Hat crew, “if it means I may gaze upon your beautiful face for another day, I would travel a thousand leagues.”

“You didn’t have to,” Luffy said cheerfully. “We were gonna go to an island soon. You coulda just waited there.”

Her smile twitched.

Zoro, already leaving in hopes of napping this entire encounter away, muttered, “He has no idea he’s a bomb with the pin halfway out.”

It did not take long for Sanji to explode. “WHY?! Why does the rubber idiot get this?! This—this royalty! This goddess! This radiant beacon of femininity wrapped in silk and seduction!”

“She’s not into you, cook,” Zoro said flatly.

“She’s not into YOU either, mosshead!”

“I didn’t say she was. I’m just not making it everyone’s problem.”

Below deck, there was war room energy.

The crew—minus Zoro, who had already bailed, and Sanji, who was wailing into a napkin somewhere—gathered around the chalkboard like generals before a battle.

Usopp slapped a fresh sheet of odds onto the wall. “Okay! New sub-pool opened: how long until Luffy says the word toes in front of Hancock?”

“Three hours,” said Chopper, already jotting it down. “He’s already past due for a weird overshare.”

“Ten minutes,” Brook guessed, fingers steepled like a man betting his life savings. “He’s distracted and happy. It’ll slip out.”

“I give it twenty seconds,” Franky muttered. “You can feel it in the air. Like static before a thunderclap.”

Robin laced her fingers together, smiling faintly. “You’re all being generous. He’s already said it. No one was close enough to hear.”

“WHAT?” Usopp and Chopper gasped in unison.

Robin didn’t elaborate.

Brook calmly adjusted the chalkboard. “All right, toe timer still running.”

“And we need to update the Nami-collapse odds,” Chopper added, flipping to a new chart. “Exposure to rival romantic attention, plus two weeks of escalating flirt warfare? That’s a stress bomb.”

“Exactly,” Usopp nodded. “There’s only so long she can femme-fatale her way through before she goes nuclear.”

“Someone’s toes are gonna curl off,” Franky added.

Robin, serene as ever, stated “I’m more interested in the breakdown of ego-to-attachment ratios under duress. But yes. This is getting good.”

Chopper tapped his pencil. “So... who breaks first?”

“Luffy,” Usopp said immediately. “It’s always Luffy.”

“Yoho, I’d say Nami,” Brook countered. “You saw the eye twitch after the wink.”

Chopper frowned. “What if it’s… Hancock?”

A hush fell over the room. Everyone stared at the young doctor, contemplating this possibility.

“You think the Empress of Love loses composure before Nami?” Usopp whispered.

“I mean…” Chopper hesitated. “They’re both terrifying.”

Robin closed her notebook. “Place your bets, boys. And buckle in.”

From the deck above, Luffy’s voice carried down like a death knell:

“Hey, Nami! Hancock says my boldness is strong!”

The crew looked at each other.

Chopper sighed. “Timer might have been too generous.”

Meanwhile above deck, Hancock sat beside Luffy, regal and luminous. Their conversation was going exactly the way one of them had hoped, but the empress was nothing if not persistent.

Hancock leaned toward him to declare, “Your strength is only matched by your boldness, my love.”

“Thanks!” Luffy replied amiably. “I caught, like, the biggest fish earlier. Real heavy.”

Hancock clapped her hands. “Such a provider! When I saw you defeat that warlord with a single blow, I felt my soul cry out for you.”

Luffy nodded. “Yeah, that guy was loud. Had to punch him real fast.”

Nami walked past slowly, dragging one finger along the railing. Humming faintly.

Luffy noticed her immediately and turned to her with a grin. “Hey Nami! Hancock says my boldness is strong!”

Nami turned just enough to smile over her shoulder. “Oh, I know, Captain.”

Her tone wasn’t flirty or coy. Just evenly stated. But after a week of her weaponizing his title in their flirt war, it still hit.

Luffy jolted just slightly, like she’d pinged a nerve he didn’t know was exposed.

Her smile was all honey and warning bells.

Hidden behind a stack of crates, Brook was composing a new love ballad titled “Caught in a Triangle (But the Triangle Has Teeth).”

Robin updated the chalkboard to include a new subsection: “External Threats to Curl Success.”

Chopper’s symptom charts were becoming more complicated. “Do I count Hancock as my patient too?” he pondered, trying to decide whether to add a new file to his clipboard. “I probably have to while she’s on the ship, right?”

Usopp had abandoned data for popcorn and was sharing a bucket with Franky.

“Ten beri says Nami bites first,” Franky whispered.

“No way,” Usopp hissed. “She’s gonna smile so sweetly it hurts.”

Dinner was a disaster waiting to happen.

The meal was loud, chaotic, and full of tension no one acknowledged directly. Hancock, luminous and smug, had taken the seat beside Luffy. Nami sat diagonally across, arms folded and wine glass in hand.

Luffy, oblivious as always, was happily inhaling meat skewers while the rest of the crew half-watched and half-prayed. Hancock reached toward his plate—and paused as his hand shot out.

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s my meat.”

Her smile faltered for half a second. “Of course, my darling. I was only admiring your… appetite.”

“Okay,” he said, already eating again. “As long as you weren’t gonna take any.”

Nami, barely hiding her laugh, leaned in toward Hancock and said in a low, breezy voice, “You’ll get used to it. He’s a very… hands-on captain.”

Hancock’s eye twitched. “So am I.”

“Oh, good. Then this’ll be fun.”

Hancock pointedly turned her attention away, fully facing her body towards Luffy. "So my love, have you had any exciting adventures lately? Developed a new quest?"

“Well,” Luffy said around a bite of meat, “I’ve been working real hard on this one thing.”

Zoro groaned. “Please don’t let it be what I think it is.”

Chopper was already scrambling to grab his notes.

“What is it, my dearest?” Hancock asked, leaning in like it was a dinner for two.

Luffy grinned. “I’m trying to curl Nami’s toes!”

Sanji, mid-sip, choked. “I—I beg your what—?!” 

“Yeah,” Luffy continued, “I thought I had it once, but she said it didn’t count. So I gotta keep trying.”

Nami made a sound that was part laugh, part wheeze.

Hancock’s wine glass shattered in her grip. She rose, voice rising like thunder. “You’re trying to curl her toes?”

“Yeah?” Luffy blinked up at her. “Why?”

“Luffy my love, you curl my toes every day!”

Luffy frowned. “But… I haven’t even seen you.”

Hancock clutched her hands to her chest. “Just the thought of you is enough!”

Nami took a long sip of wine, smiling. “Some of us require a little more stimulation than that.”

Sanji made a strangled sound and slid under the table in slow despair.

Brook plucked a single tragic chord.

Luffy, looked around, a little confused at what was happening. He tried supplying context. “I mean, we’re in a race. Nami’s trying to curl my toes too!”

Franky spat soda across the table. Chopper screamed and started scribbling so hard his pages were in danger of ripping.

Hancock’s eyes narrowed into daggers. “Then I will be the one to curl the toes of my beloved! I shall make you tremble with longing!” she declared liked it was a challenge. A sacred trial. The summit of seduction.

Nami set down her glass with a delicate clink. She leaned in, smile all sugar and threat.

“You can certainly try.”

Silence.

Somewhere, thunder cracked.

Zoro stood and left without a word.

Sanji’s hand, from beneath the table, weakly waved a white napkin.

Usopp whispered, “We’re gonna die.”

Robin was already taking bets again.

Chapter Text

Boa Hancock, Empress of Amazon Lily, Conqueror of Armies, Supreme Warrior of the Seas, had a plan.

She’d heard the goal. She’d seen the scoreboard. She’d been devoted to the target for years. And now, she would win. What better way to claim victory than the simplest, surest path to Luffy’s heart?

Through his stomach.

She spent the better part of the morning crafting a divine dessert: a delicate pudding crafted of only the finest ingredients. Into the mix she added rosewater, seafoam sugar, a twist of exotic fruit from her homeland. It glistened like a gem and smelled like a garden. Never had a dish been made with such love. She floated to Luffy with it as if in slow motion.

“My beloved,” she said, kneeling beside where he was lounging. “I have made this for you. The dish of an Empress, for her future Emperor.”

Luffy beamed. “Thanks! You didn’t have to!” He took a big bite, barely chewing as he dug in. His second bite was more measured. He chewed more slowly, contemplating. Finally, he snapped his fingers and smiled.

“I know what this is like; this kinda tastes like soap! But like… the really nice soap. The fancy kind in cool shapes that Sanji says we should put in the bathroom for guests. You know?” He shrugged and finished the soap pudding anyway.

A small twitch passed through Hancock’s temple. Her smile froze in place like porcelain under strain. She had never been compared to decorative guest soap before.

From across the deck, Nami stifled a laugh.

“Hey guys,” the navigator said, strolling over. “Any luck on the toe movement front?”

Hancock’s eyes narrowed. “I’m pampering Luffy as he deserves.”

“So… no,” Nami said brightly.

Before anyone could retort, she reached up and plucked Luffy’s hat clean off his head. He moved as if to protest as Nami twirled his treasure on her fingertip, but froze as she casually dropped her other hand into his unruly black hair. She began smoothing it down, slow and absent like she didn’t know she was ruining someone’s entire day.

Luffy let out a small, helpless-sounding sigh, leaning slightly toward her.

Nami smiled like a fox and placed his hat on her own head with a wink. “Maybe next time,” she called over her shoulder as she strolled off.

Hancock was not used to being dismissed. Not by other women. Not like this.

At dinner that night, the tension was so thick it needed a steak knife to cut through.

Sanji was practically sobbing into the table. “They’re both so beautiful and so out of my league and why does the shitty captain get to be the main course?!”

Robin sipped her wine. “Because he’s the only one too oblivious to panic.”

Brook played light romantic notes on his violin in the corner, whispering, “Ah, young love... I’d give my bones to feel it again. Yohoho!”

Across the table, Hancock traced her finger in slow spirals on the wood. “Luffy is a man of action. He has a strong will… strong hands. He must be very… physical.”

“Mmm,” Nami hummed, sliding her foot slowly over Luffy’s under the table. “Very physical. And so good with his hands. I’m always impressed by his grip.”

Hancock scowled.

Luffy was growing confused, his eyes flitting from one woman to the other as they talked. They were just saying things, but why did it feel like he was watching a fight? He tilted his head. Were they mad? No, they weren’t even yelling. Maybe they were playing a game he didn’t really know the rules to? Either way, his meat was getting cold.

Nami’s napkin fluttered off the table. “Oh! Luffy, could you grab that for me?”

He immediately stretched to retrieve it. As he handed it back, Nami leaned in until they were shoulder to shoulder and purred, “Thanks… Captain.” She gave his thigh a light squeeze under the table. No one noticed.

Except of course Luffy, owner of said thigh, who went bright red and forgot to steal food for two minutes straight.

Boa Hancock poured her heart into a love poem composed in the dead of night. She burned incense. She wore her finest silks. She let the candlelight caress her profile while she drafted a masterpiece of unfiltered devotion in five stanzas. She read it aloud to her dearest, one hand pressed solemnly to her heart. 

Luffy fell asleep by the sixth line, drooling just a little.

The Empress of Love tried offering him a back massage. She had gathered scented oils. She arranged a plush collection of pillows to cushion her beloved’s body while she rubbed away the tension he must carry with him constantly.

Luffy politely declined. “That’s okay. Nami did that once with the kitchen oil. I smelled like pizza dough. It was funny.”

The great pride of Amazon Lily tried posing dramatically under the moonlight. The heavens themselves created catchlights in her eyes. Her outfit was carefully selected to best display her beauty to the one man worthy to receive it.

Luffy squinted at her. “D’you want a jacket? You’ll get cold standing like that.”

Each failure registered in her expression, but only as the smallest flicker. She would not be defeated publicly. She was the Pirate Empress.

The next morning, with as much dignity as she could muster, Hancock informed the Straw Hats, “I must return to Amazon Lily. The duties of an Empress are never-ending… though my heart remains aboard this ship.” She gazed into Luffy’s eyes. “I shall think of you daily.”

Before Luffy could reply, Nami stepped in, voice honeyed, smile sharp. “Oh, you can rest easy knowing that I’m taking excellent care of him.”

Hancock's eyes scowled, though she smiled back, and said absolutely nothing. But her snake hissed in offense.

And the crew?

Usopp and Chopper collapsed into each other as soon as they were sure it was safe, shaking with barely contained laughter. Brook fell over backwards. Sanji screamed into a loaf of bread. Zoro seriously debated jumping into the ocean just to exit the absurdity of his ship.

Robin looked at the board and calmly updated the entry:

Hancock – Status: Withdrew. Reason: “Empress Duties.” Effectiveness: 0. Toe Curl Attempts: Denied.

Nami celebrated quietly by stealing Luffy’s hat again. The chalkboard clattered slightly as she drew a star next to her name.

“Still in the lead,” she said, then glanced at Luffy’s hand resting beside hers. She slowly, lightly laced their fingers together.

He didn’t move.

He just smiled.

Chapter Text

Sunny had been sailing for two days blissfully guest-free, and the captain and navigator had returned to their quest.

Luffy burst into the map room, arms full of hacked-apart fruit. “Look what I made!” he announced proudly.

Nami turned from her charts. On the table, he dumped a half-collapsed starfruit, a bruised mango, and some mashed orange slices arranged in vaguely circular shapes. “You made…a snack?” she asked, blinking.

“Islands!” Luffy grinned. “Like your fancy archipelago set, but that you can eat! This one’s Windmill Island, and this one’s from that time with the boar cult!”

“That was a jungle.”

“Starfruit grows in jungles,” he said, matter-of-fact.

She stared at the gooey mess, then at him. A tiny bewildered laugh escaped her before she could catch it. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever loved,” she said, almost to herself.

Luffy positively glowed.

Usopp, hiding behind the door with surveillance gear, whispered, “That was dangerously effective…” He rushed off to scribble Fruit-Based Tactics: Viable into the chalkboard margins.

The storm rolled in fast. The Sunny pitched with wind and rain as the crew flew into motion. Luffy and Nami met at the helm, soaked but steady.

“You trust me?” she called over the roar.

“Always!” he shouted back, grinning.

She grabbed the front of his vest, leaned in, and whispered against his ear. “Good. I’ve got you, Captain.”

The words hit harder than the rain. Luffy stood frozen, eyes wide, lips parted like he wanted to respond—but no sound came out.

A rope smacked him in the side of the head.

“Move, idiot!” Sanji snapped, yanking the rope away.

Robin, passing by calmly under a cloak, adjusted her hood. “Oh yes,” she murmured. “That one landed.”

Later, with the storm gone, Nami was in the galley doing inventory as Sanji prepped for the next meal.


Luffy leaned against the counter behind her. He watched her for a beat and then smiled. “You look really smart,” he offered.

She glanced back, suspicious if internally flattered. “Smart?”

“Yeah, when you do math. I don’t get math. But you look like you do. And I like your ‘concentrating face.’” He wore his typical lop-sided grin, but a cocky glint showed up in his eye.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you flirting with my brain?”

“Yep,” Luffy said, still smiling. “Your brain’s cool.”

Nami flushed. “That’s the dumbest compliment I’ve ever—” She hurled a towel at his face. “OUT.”

Behind the fridge (sort of), Chopper scribbled: *Flirting via cognitive admiration? New branch of emotional intelligence.*

Sanji, mid-sauté, was stuck witnessing the whole exchange. He screamed wordlessly and hurled his spatula out the window.

Luffy and Zoro were sparring mid-deck. Zoro was laser-focused. Luffy was just messing around. Or rather, he started out that way until his haki picked up a familiar signature approaching. He quickly started trying a little harder, actually pushing Zoro a couple steps back. 

Nami strolled by and leaned casually against the mast. “Nice form, Captain,” she purred, not even trying to hide the up-and-down appraisal she gave him. “I wouldn’t mind getting pinned like that sometime.”

Luffy’s face grew hot, he hiccupped both literally and mentally, he tripped over the air and hit the deck like a dropped anchor. He wasn’t even completely sure what she meant. But his knees gave up anyway.

Zoro just sheathed his blade. “Nope. Done.” He walked off without another word.

Brook, nearby with his violin, gasped. “Pinned… like a sword through the heart! Yes, yes! I shall compose a ballad. Love in the Rigging!”

Below decks, a new column had been added onto The Chalkboard:

Casualties of Flirting Warfare – 3 deck bruises, 1 snapped mop, 17 crew-wide mental spirals, 1 emotional injury Sanji refuses to elaborate on

Usopp strolled by, taking in all the recent additions. “We're not gonna survive this.”

Sanji had to pass the chalkboard every time he needed to go to the storeroom for root vegetables or dry goods. It was like poking a bruise on his ego each time. “Flirting with her brain! Now she’s flirting back with metaphor! How am I losing to someone who doesn’t know what the word innuendo means!?” he wailed.

Zoro, who felt that the only redeeming part of this whole mess was poking the cook’s battered pride, corrected, “You’re losing to someone who barely knows what the word dinner means.”

Night had fallen. The Sunny rocked gently beneath the stars.

Luffy and Nami strolled across the deck. Her bare feet were silent. His sandals slapped. In her hands, she spun his straw hat slowly by the brim.

“You like that thing almost as much as I do,” he teased.

“I like the person it belongs to,” she replied, voice low.

He turned toward her, eyes wide, struck silent for a moment.

She stopped walking. Took a single step closer. The hat lowered between them. “I think I’m winning, Luffy,” she whispered.


Her eyes flicked to his lips, just for a second.


He opened his mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to admit it—but she leaned in, her lips just a breath from his own. So close he could smell the tangerine soap she liked. His heart beat once, hard.

And then she stepped back. “But not tonight,” she said, smirking. Her eyes were sharp, but her cheeks were pink. She turned and walked away, the sway of her hips just a little exaggerated.


Luffy stood still, blinking. Then he put a hand over his chest, absently rubbing the spot where something was racing and squeezing. “This game is weird,” he muttered.

But the grin stretching across his face said he was enjoying it all the same.