Chapter 82: When the World Waits… Everyone Else Loses Their Damn Mind
(POV: Sunny)
I traced the glass-cold line on my cheek one last time.
Whatever they're building… I better be worthy of it.
The thought was heavy, but my eyelids were heavier. The exhaustion wasn't physical; it was soul-deep. It was the kind of tired you feel after rewriting gravity. I leaned back against the figurehead, intending to just close my eyes for a second, but the darkness rose up to meet me like a warm tide.
There was no system ping. No snarky comment from Arbitria. No tactical overlay.
Just silence. And sleep.
(POV: Aqua)
He looked like a doll. A really expensive, breakable, stupidly handsome doll that someone had left out in the rain.
I sat on the deck, my knees pulled up to my chest, staring at him. Sunny was slumped against the Merry's sheep head, fast asleep. His mouth was slightly open—just a tiny bit—and he wasn't drooling, which was unfair because when I sleep, I look like a drowned fish. But he looked… perfect.
And it pissed me off.
"He's breathing weird," I whispered, leaning closer. "It's too quiet. He usually breathes like a furnace. Now he breathes like a breeze. Is he dying? Should I poke him?"
"Do not poke him, you useless Goddess," a sharp whisper came from behind me.
I turned around. It was the Council.
Nami, Nojiko, Lucy, Vivi, and Robin. Even the ghost-spirit-thing Merry was sitting on the railing, her legs dangling. They had all gathered quietly, like cats smelling an open can of tuna.
"I'm not useless," I hissed back, puffing out my cheeks. "I'm monitoring his vitals. Divinely. You wouldn't understand."
"You're staring at his eyelashes," Nojiko pointed out, sitting down on a crate next to me. She had a blanket folded in her lap. "But… you're right. He looks different."
"He looks small," Lucy said. She was crouching on the railing, looking at Sunny with wide, dilated pupils. Usually, Lucy looked at Sunny like he was the best piece of meat in the world. Tonight, she looked at him like he was a soap bubble she was terrified of popping. "I don't like it. He feels… squishy."
"He is currently depowered," Robin noted, her voice as calm and smooth as black coffee. She adjusted her glasses, the moonlight catching the lenses. "His biological defenses are lowered. His Haki is dormant. In this state, he is essentially… mortal."
The word hung in the air like a bad smell.
"Mortal," Nami repeated, shivering. She wrapped her arms around herself. "I hate that word. It doesn't fit him."
"It makes him cute, though," I blurted out.
Five pairs of eyes snapped to me.
"What?!" I defended myself, waving my hands. "Look at him! Usually, he has that smug, 'I own the universe' look. Or that scary 'I'm going to murder you with math' look. But now? Look at the slump! Look at the vulnerability! He looks like a puppy that fell off a couch! It makes you want to… I don't know… wrap him in bubble wrap and feed him soup!"
There was a long silence.
Then, Vivi sighed, her cheeks turning a dusty pink. "He… does look peaceful. Innocent, almost."
"Innocent?" Nami snorted, though she moved closer, her eyes softening as she looked at his sleeping face. "This man is the Abyss Assassin. He has a bounty higher than some countries' GDP. He just tore a hole in the sky yesterday."
"And now he's sleeping like a baby," Nojiko murmured. She stood up and gently, ever so gently, draped the blanket over him. She tucked the edges around his shoulders with the efficiency of a mother. "Aqua's right. It's annoying. He shouldn't be allowed to be this cute when he's this much of a headache."
"He's mine," I declared suddenly.
"Excuse me?" Nami's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"I saw him first! Well, not first-first, but I'm the Goddess! I have divine claim!" I argued, keeping my voice to a frantic whisper. "If he's weak, he needs a healer. That's me. I'm the support class! I should be carrying him!"
"You'd trip and drop him into the ocean," Nojiko said flatly. "Denied."
"I'll carry him!" Lucy chirped, flexing a rubber arm. "I can stretch and wrap him up like a mummy! He'll be safe and warm and he'll smell like me!"
"That is a biohazard hazard," Robin noted dryly. "If anyone is to guard him, it should be someone capable of neutralizing threats without waking him. I can sprout eyes and ears everywhere."
"I'm the Navigator!" Nami hissed, stepping between Robin and Sunny. "I know where we're going! I steer the ship! Therefore, I steer the Sunny!"
"I am literally the ship," Merry squeaked from the railing.
We all paused and looked at the little spirit.
"I'm holding all of you," she said, pointing a tiny finger downward. "So technically, I'm winning."
We couldn't argue with the boat.
I huffed and crossed my arms, looking back at Sunny. The blanket had slipped a little, revealing that jagged, glass-like fracture on his face. It pulsed faintly, a soft white light in the darkness.
"It scares me," I whispered, the jealousy evaporating. "That crack. It feels like… the world is trying to reclaim him. Like he borrowed too much and now he has to pay it back."
The mood plummeted.
Lucy hopped down from the railing. She walked over to Sunny and sat down right in front of him, criss-cross applesauce. She glared at the sky.
"If the world tries to take him," Lucy said, her voice dropping to a low, terrifying growl, "I'll punch the world."
"You can't punch a planet, Lucy," Vivi whispered.
"Watch me," Lucy said. She didn't blink. "I'll bite it."
"We need a plan," Nojiko said, taking charge because she was the only one of us who wasn't actively insane. "Until he wakes up—really wakes up, not just walking around like a zombie—he doesn't fight. He doesn't lift anything heavier than a spoon. And nobody mentions the bounty or the Marines or the Warlord. We handle it."
"We handle a Warlord?" Nami squeaked. "Us?"
"Yes," Nojiko said, her eyes hard. "We're the Straw hats. If we can't protect our unofficial babysitter for a few days, we don't deserve the tangerine trees he bought us."
Nami swallowed hard. Then, she nodded. "Right. Okay. No fighting for Sunny. We… we protect the idiot."
"I'll pray," I offered. "I'll pray so hard. I'll bless his socks. I'll purify his water. I'll… I'll try not to spend all the money on booze."
"Let's not make promises we can't keep," Robin smiled.
I crawled over, ignoring the glares from Nami and Lucy, and curled up near Sunny's feet. He radiated a strange chill because of the mark, but under that, he was still Sunny.
"Sleep tight, you dumb, breakable god," I whispered. "If you die, I'll resurrect you just so I can kill you myself."
(POV: Nami)
The sea at night was usually my favorite thing. It was predictable. You read the wind, you checked the stars, you adjusted the rudder. It was math and instinct.
Tonight, the sea felt huge, and the ship felt tiny.
I sat in the galley, the door propped open so I could keep an eye on the sleeping pile of idiots on the deck. Aqua had passed out using Sunny's shin as a pillow. Lucy was sleeping sitting up, drooling slightly on his shoulder. Nojiko was dozing in a chair nearby, a shotgun resting casually across her lap.
I looked down at the Log Pose on my wrist.
Next Island: Alabasta.
Time to arrival: approx 18 hours.
Usually, seeing the needle lock onto a destination gave me a thrill. Adventure. Treasure. But now, the needle looked like a countdown timer.
Alabasta was a war zone. We knew that. A Warlord, a rebellion, a drought. And we were sailing straight into it with a babysitter who currently couldn't open a pickle jar without shaking.
I rubbed my temples.
Why do I feel like this?
I thought back to Cocoyasi Village. To the muddy training grounds behind the tangerine groves. I remembered watching Sunny train like Garp (Sunny says).
He was never weak. Even when he was small, he was intense. He would get hurt, bleed, and get back up with that annoying, charming smirk. He was unbreakable. He was the Storm. I used to tell myself that as long as I stood in the eye of the storm, I was safe.
But storms dissipate. Winds die down.
Seeing him yesterday, with blood running down his face not from a punch, but from power he couldn't contain… it broke something in me. It realized that he wasn't invincible. He was just a guy who painted a target on his back so big that the gods started taking shots at him.
I stood up and walked quietly out onto the deck.
The air was cool. The only sound was the creaking of the rigging and Lucy's soft snoring.
I walked over to the sleeping pile.
Sunny looked so young like this. Without the smirk, without the calculating gleam in his eyes, he was just… Sunny. My Sunny.
I reached out, my hand hovering over his face. I was terrified to touch him. I was scared I'd feel that cold glass again, that reminder that he belonged to the System more than he belonged to me.
But I did it anyway.
I brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. My finger grazed the top of the fracture.
Pulse.
It hummed against my skin. A low, rhythmic warning.
"You idiot," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "You promised. You said I was your North Star. You don't leave your North Star behind."
I traced the line of the crack down his cheek.
"You better fix this," I told the sleeping face. "You better talk to your ghosts, or your system, or whatever is in that head of yours, and you better come back whole. Because if you make me navigate this ocean alone… I'll charge you interest. Compounding interest."
He didn't stir. But for a second, the fracture glowed just a little bit brighter, like he heard the threat to his wallet.
I sighed and sat down next to him, leaning my head on his non-fractured shoulder. It was bony, and not particularly comfortable, but it was solid.
"We're almost there," I whispered to the dark ocean. "Just hold on a little longer."
(POV: Aokiji - Kuzan)
Location: Alabasta Royal Palace, Guest Quarters.
Current Status: Regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
I was lying on a plush chaise lounge that cost more than my annual salary. A maid was pouring me fresh, chilled orange juice. The air conditioning—powered by some kind of wind-powered contraption—was blowing cool air on my face.
I should have been happy. I was technically on vacation.
But I wasn't happy. I was traumatized.
"Admiral Aokiji, sir," the maid said, blushing furiously. "Is the juice to your liking? We also have tangerine tarts. We heard… we heard He likes tangerines."
I stared at the ceiling.
"Who is 'He'?" I asked, knowing the answer, but praying for death anyway.
"Oh!" She squealed, covering her mouth. "Sunny-sama! The rumors say he eats a tangerine tart before every battle to remind him of home! We baked four hundred of them this morning just in case he arrives today!"
I closed my eyes.
"The juice is fine," I muttered. "Leave the tarts. Leave the bottle. Leave me to wither away."
She giggled—actually giggled—and curtsied before running off, probably to knit a scarf with a Jolly Roger on it.
I sat up and rubbed my face.
This wasn't a military operation. This was a convention.
Outside the window, in the streets of Alubarna, I could hear the noise. It wasn't the sound of civil war. It wasn't the sound of rebellion.
It was the sound of aggressive cleaning.
The Marines—my Marines, specifically the terrifying unit of Vice Admirals consisting of Momousagi, Gion, Bluegrass, and Hina—were currently scrubbing the city. Literally scrubbing it. They had mobilized the local garrison not to fight rebels, but to pick up trash, hang banners, and ensure the lighting was "flattering."
Why?
Because Sunny was coming.
And apparently, you can't have a dashing rogue pirate arrive in a dirty city. It's bad for the aesthetic.
I looked over at the corner of the room. Smoker and Tashigi were sitting there. They looked like they had been hit by a truck carrying confusion.
"I don't understand," Smoker grumbled, chewing on two cigars at once. He looked twitchy. "We captured Crocodile. He's in the dungeon. We have the evidence. We saved the King. But… we didn't do it for Justice."
"We did it for the fan club," Tashigi whispered, staring at her sword like it had lied to her. "Hina-san told me that Crocodile was 'ruining the vibe' and that his sandstorms would 'dry out Sunny-sama's skin.' That was the tactical briefing. 'Protect the Skin.' And then Momousagi-san cut a building in half."
I took a long sip of juice.
"Welcome to my life," I said dryly. "This is what happens when you let a charismatic chaos demon loose in the Grand Line. He doesn't conquer islands. He seduces them."
Smoker slammed his fist on the table. "He's a pirate! A criminal! Why are the female Marines acting like he's a pop star?!"
"Because he's cute," I said, repeating the words I had heard five thousand times in the last week. "And apparently, he's 'innocent.' And 'pure.' And 'loveable.'"
I shuddered.
"Someone said he looks like an angel you can hit," I added darkly. "I don't even know what that means, but it sounds kinky and dangerous."
I lay back down.
"Crocodile is in the dungeon screaming, by the way," I noted. "He's not screaming about prison. He's screaming about being upstaged."
Flashback
Three Days Ago. Marine Warship "The Love Boat" (Unofficial Name).
I stood on the deck of the warship as we cut through the waves. The sun was shining. The seagulls were crying.
And I was staring at the figurehead.
It wasn't a dragon. It wasn't a lion.
It was a caricature of Sunny's face. A smiling, winking, wooden Sunny.
"Who authorized this?" I asked the empty air.
"Budget surplus, sir!" Hina chirped, walking up beside me. She was wearing a coat that was slightly too tailored, and she smelled of expensive perfume. "We reallocated the funds from the 'Cannon Maintenance' budget to the 'Morale Boosting' budget."
"You replaced the cannons with a wooden boy toy?" I asked.
"He inspires us," Momousagi said, stepping out of the cabin. She looked terrifyingly serious. "When the crew sees his smile, efficiency goes up 400%. It is statistically significant."
I walked away. I went down to the cargo hold to find a place to nap.
I opened the door to Hold 3.
It wasn't full of ammo. It wasn't full of rations.
It was full of plushies.
Hundreds of them. Little Sunny dolls with felt cloaks and tiny plastic knives. There were posters. There were "Wanted" posters that had been laminated and glitter-glued. There was a banner that said WELCOME TO ALABASTA, PLEASE MARRY ME.
I closed the door.
"I need a transfer," I whispered to the corridor. "Send me to Impel Down. At least there, the torture is physical."
We picked up Smoker and Tashigi a day later. They came aboard looking for a ride to Alabasta to chase Straw Hat.
I watched Smoker's face when he walked onto the deck and saw the fifty female Marines wearing "Team Sunny" t-shirts during their off-hours.
He dropped his cigar.
"Is this a mutiny?" he asked me, horrified.
"No," I sighed, adjusting my sleeping mask. "It's a fandom."
When we arrived at the port of Nanohana, the city was in chaos. Rebels were shouting. Shops were closed.
Momousagi walked down the gangplank. She didn't draw her sword. She drew a megaphone.
"ATTENTION CITIZENS OF ALABASTA!" she bellowed. Her voice cracked the pavement. "SUNNY, IS ON ROUTE TO THIS ISLAND! HE IS COMING TO SING! HE IS COMING TO SMILE! DO YOU WANT HIM TO SEE THIS MESS?"
The rioting stopped instantly.
A rebel dropped his club. "He... he's coming to sing?"
"HE HAS THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL AND THE ABS OF A GOD!" Bluegrass shouted, waving a glow stick. "CLEAN THIS CITY UP OR SO HELP ME, I WILL ARREST ALL OF YOU FOR DISORDERLY CONDUCT BEFORE THE CONCERT!"
The city didn't just calm down. It mobilized. Rebels started sweeping the streets. Royal Guards started washing windows.
I stood there, watching a civil war end because people wanted a concert from a pirate.
"Justice is dead," I told Smoker. "And a teenager with a guitar killed it."
Flashback End
(POV: Crocodile - Brief Interlude)
Location: Alabasta Royal Dungeon.
"IT'S HIM! I KNOW IT'S HIM!"
I paced the small, damp cell, my hook scraping against the stone walls, creating sparks. My plan. My beautiful, years-long plan to take Pluton. Ruined. Not by a battle. Not by a superior strategist.
But by a mood shift.
"The Abyss Assassin," I hissed, the name tasting like bile. "He didn't even show up! He didn't even step foot on the sand! He just... projected his aura! He weaponized the Marines! He weaponized the women!"
I kicked the bars.
"He turned the Vice Admirals into groupies!" I screamed at the guard, who was ignoring me and reading a magazine with Sunny on the cover. "Do you understand the level of psychological warfare that requires?! He's playing 4D chess while I'm playing checkers!"
I sat down on the cold bench, my head in my hand.
"He's crazy," I muttered. "He's insane. He expedited my plan by making me irrelevant before I even started. He destroyed my reputation by making me the 'guy who ruined the vibe.' I'm a Warlord of the Sea! I'm Sir Crocodile! I am not a vibe killer!"
The guard looked up. "Hey, keep it down. Sunny-sama is arriving soon. We need quiet for the acoustics."
I screamed.
(POV: Aokiji - Present)
A siren wailed.
It wasn't the "Enemy Attack" siren. It was the custom siren Hina had installed. It played a jaunty, upbeat tune.
The door to the guest quarters burst open.
A Marine communications officer—a young girl with pigtails—skidded to a halt. She was hyperventilating.
"Report!" Momousagi barked, appearing from thin air, fully dressed in her Vice Admiral coat, hair perfectly coiffed.
"Target sighted!" the girl squealed. "The Going Merry! Three kilometers off the coast! ETA twenty minutes!"
The room exploded.
"DEPLOY THE WELCOME COMMITTEE!" Gion shouted. "Release the doves! Cue the band! Make sure the lighting on the port is golden-hour perfect!"
"Hina is excited!" Hina yelled, running for the door. "Hina needs to touch up her lipstick!"
"Secure the perimeter!" Bluegrass ordered. "No ugly people in the front row! I want aesthetic perfection!"
The fifty Marine girls stampeded out of the room like a herd of buffalo in high heels. The floor shook.
Smoker stood up, his jitte shaking in his hand.
"I'm going to arrest him," he growled. "I'm going to walk down there, push through the confetti, and arrest him for... for... disturbin' the peace!"
"Good luck," I said, toasting him with my orange juice. "Try not to get trampled by the Vice Admirals."
Smoker stormed out. Tashigi followed, looking torn between duty and the urge to ask for an autograph.
I was left alone in the silent room.
I finished the juice. I set the glass down.
"My vacation," I whispered to the ceiling. "I just wanted to sleep."
I stood up slowly. My bones creaked.
"Well," I sighed, pulling my coat on. "I guess I better go watch. If the world is going to end because a cute pirate walked off a boat, I want a front-row seat."
I walked to the balcony and looked out at the port.
It was lit up like a festival. Fireworks were already going off. Banners the size of buildings were being unfurled.
And way out in the harbor, a tiny little caravel with a sheep figurehead was bobbing on the waves, completely unaware that it was sailing into the most aggressive embrace in history.
(POV: Sunny)
Darkness.
Warmth.
I floated in the void. It wasn't the scary void. It was cozy.
I felt something soft touching my face. I heard voices, distant and muffled, like hearing a party from underwater.
He looks small...
We protect him...
Punch the world...
I smiled in my sleep.
I didn't know that three kilometers away, a country was preparing to worship me. I didn't know a Warlord was having a mental breakdown in my name. I didn't know an Admiral was questioning his reality.
All I knew was that the blanket felt nice, and for the first time in my life, I didn't have to be the one holding everything together.
While I slept, the world lost its damn mind.
And honestly? Let them. I needed the nap.