Well, why not?
ONE PIECE FIC-FOR-ALL
Or, free-for-all-fic, or fic free-for-all, whatever phrasing floats your boat, if you will.
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OKAY and one more thing, guys, if your story is going over five comments or something to that effect and you still have more to post, please start a thread in here, with a link to the prompt or where the first ( Read more... )
Nami wipes the sleep from her eyes blearily as she comes out onto deck. They are nearing a spring island so the night is cool without being too chilled, a soft breeze carrying a flowery scent from the land one day’s sailing ahead of them. Rubbing one eye again, Nami looks up at the moon. It makes her think of Cocoa Village, of Bellemere and Nojiko and Genzo; reminds her of Arlong and money and tangerines and years of knowing the people she loved were watching the same moon and suffering.
Night used to make her melancholy, but a new association has joined the rest: hope. Her boys, adventures and excitement and laughter. And hope. Now she looks at the moon and smiles.
Sanji had watch before her. She can hear his foot tapping aimlessly near the bow in a tuneless rhythm. Of the few times she’s taken watch after him-he often lengthens his to encompass hers-she finds him on the section of the ship pointing most North, back curved stiffly and a single trail of smoke wavering as it rises, and she wonders what it means.
Sanji must hear her barefooted steps behind him because he turns, sending Nami one of his goofy smiles around his cigarette. She notices there’s less ‘goof’ than usual, but doesn’t say anything.
“I can take over for you, Nami-san,” he says, leaving his spot to flutter around her. “Beautiful ladies like you shouldn’t have to take watch!”
“It’s alright, Sanji-kun,” Nami replies. “I wasn’t asleep so I’d rather be out here. I need to make sure we stay on course anyway.”
“I’ll make you a hot drink then.”
Nami leans against the railing and sighs. Sanji’s different tonight; it’s subtle, but it’s there and she can’t place it. The extravagance she’d once thought was a façade to hide feelings completely different isn’t there. She glances over her shoulder at the flickering light now shining in the galley and sighs again. Something is wrong. Something she doesn’t know about. She’s used to knowing everything about her boys, but Sanji keeps coming up with new mysteries and her own lack of understanding worries her.
Sanji returns with a steaming mug, gallantly handing it to her, and pulls out another smoke and his lighter, flicking, lighting, and inhaling deeply in one, fluid motion. It’s so easy to forget what a graceful, charming man Sanji is growing into.
Nami smiles gratefully and sips the delicious liquid carefully. The way warmth floods her body it feels like the drink seeped into her bloodstream. “Thank you, Sanji-kun.”
He glows with pleasure and Nami hates herself for noticing it still looks put on when there’s nothing she can do.
They stay like that; Nami leaning on the railing, drinking from the large mug, eyes closed, and Sanji, one pace back, watching over both her and the horizon.
She doesn’t question this because she thinks she’s becoming aware of what it means, what Sanji’s intentions are tonight, and that worries her too. It’s uncomplicated when he flatters and feeds and treats her like a princess, but it feels like Sanji’s about to attempt something she has secretly feared he might.
If she asks, he might explain. And if he explains, then she will have to too.
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“Nami-san,” he says and something in his voice makes her turn to look against her better judgement. There’s a determined glint in Sanji’s visible eye and suddenly the words are more overwhelming than the silence and she feels like she’s drowning in them.
“Sanji-kun.” The three syllables carry all the things Nami can’t yet verbalise and Sanji swallows and they both just stand there, silence returning. Its weight pushes down on them, curving their backs and bowing their heads, setting flame upon their cheeks, and Nami know-knows-she needs to explain all the same.
“I-” She stops, gathers her thoughts. “You’re…. All four of you; you’re like family. And Sanji, you’re-you’re lovely and you deserve the best of the world and one day you’ll make someone so happy and they’ll make you just as happy, but it’s not me. You’re like a brother to me and I just-can’t feel any differently.”
Sanji pauses, his expression is so crestfallen-so pained-and it makes Nami’s chest twinge uncomfortably, but the resolve hasn’t left his features. “Nami,” he says. It’s soft and sad and it lacks any endearment or formality and the twinge becomes an unbearable jab so she looks away. “You could try, couldn’t you?”
Drops of water land on the railing and Nami has to look up, despite all her knowledge of the skies, to check if clouds had gathered overhead and caused rain because she can’t remember her eyes filling. She nurses the cooling mug between her hands and watches the liquid inside ripple as the trails of salty tears that had reached her chin became heavy enough to form droplets and fall.
“Sanji-kun,” she says again and this time she turns bodily to face him. He needs to watch her face and her lips move as she says this because she knows it won’t sink in any other way. “Sanji-kun. I can’t. I love you, but-” she shakes her head. “Even if I felt that, even if I were ready for what you’re asking, Sanji; you aren’t.” And as she says this, she pushes the mug into one hand and presses the other against his chest. “Here, you aren’t ready.”
Nami reaches up, touches his face; lets the cold tears streaming down his own face separate at her fingers and pool between them, watches them form little wet paths down her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No, Nami-san,” Sanji murmurs. The corner of his mouth moves against her palm and she can’t remember when he discarded the cigarette he lit, but it’s gone now. “It’s not your fault. You’re right and I’ve made my beautiful swan cry. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” Nami says because there’s nothing else to say.
Nami lowers her hand and turns away. Sanji takes the mug and leaves her in peace.
But Nami doesn’t feel like she’s drowning anymore.
And Sanji doesn’t look so sad.
End.
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This was really good and I'm someone who like Nami and Sanji together sometimes... I just like their relationship better like you wrote it here~ Nami just can't choose only one of her nakamas.
Oh and you win so very much for having Nami calling the boys her boys, that gets me everytimes ♥
I'd like to read another version of this fic from Sanji's POV... please?
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I've never really been much of a Sanji/Nami shipper because of this reason. This is kind of how I see it--so I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks of it like this!
I'm generally pretty unreliable about stuff like that so, not promises, but I do love the idea of giving a Sanji POV a shot. I'LL TRY. :P
(I very much love Nami calling them her boys too. I think she does it frequently in her head.)
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I second that it would be great to see this from Sanji's POV, but only if you feel like it of course.
I will probably come across as a totally greedy bastard if I say I'd still be interested in seeing more great anti-pairing fics, like this one. ^_^ But when I thought of this request/prompt it just felt like something that could be fine for more than one reply, assuming anyone felt like writing it.
But in any case, this feels really satisfying to read! Thank you!
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(I don't think you come across as greedy. ;) I think it was an awesome request and so versatile and I'd love to see what other might people come up too!)
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