"Ahem…"
To Ron, the awkward moment from earlier was nothing more than a passing inconvenience.
He cleared his throat lightly, pretending nothing had happened, and asked casually,
"Nojiko, what's for dinner tonight?"
After all, Nojiko had taken on multiple duties aboard the Themis—she was part caretaker, part cook, and part organizer until they found someone else to help.
"Uh… grilled fish, maybe?" Nojiko replied, still a little flustered. Her gaze drifted toward Nami's retreating figure, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
"Perfect," Ron said with a nod.
Several nights later, the moon hung high over a calm, glassy sea. The stars shimmered like scattered diamonds, and a gentle breeze brushed across the deck.
The Themis sailed silently toward the entrance of the Grand Line.
Tonight, it was Nojiko's turn to stand watch.
"The stars are so beautiful out here," she murmured, reclining in a chair and gazing up at the sky.
Life at sea was nothing like her quiet days in Cocoyasi Village.
And yet… there was something intoxicating about it.
This life of drifting with the waves, never knowing what tomorrow might bring—it was new, unpredictable, and alive.
Yesterday could be calm.
Tomorrow, a raging storm.
But in that uncertainty, Nojiko found herself smiling.
Perhaps that was the sea's greatest gift—the thrill of the unknown.
And with Nami by her side, that adventure felt even more precious.
Just as she began to drift into peaceful thought, a faint rumble echoed across the waves.
At first, she thought it was her imagination.
It sounded distant—like thunder, or perhaps the deep growl of something beneath the ocean's surface.
It came and went, soft and rhythmic, like the heartbeat of a sleeping beast.
Then it vanished, as suddenly as it came.
The sea grew calm once more.
Nojiko exhaled slowly, her heart still caught in that strange, dreamlike rhythm.
It was as if she'd taken a sip of something warm and heady, a quiet intoxication that made her cheeks glow faintly red.
For a while, she simply sat there, listening to the endless hush of waves and wind.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
And a little too quiet.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the portholes of the cabin.
A startled scream rang out.
Nami shot upright, clutching her blanket, her eyes wide and disoriented.
Before she could speak, Ron appeared in the doorway, calm as ever.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "As long as I'm here, no storm will ever touch you."
Later that morning, the air in the Themis' dining cabin felt unusually tense.
Ron sat across from Nojiko, who was visibly irritated.
Her damp blue hair clung to her cheeks, which were still tinged pink.
Ron, for once, looked almost apologetic.
"So… how's the breakfast?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
"It's fine," she said sharply. Then, after a pause, she added in a tone that made the air prickle, "You haven't even eaten it yet."
Ron blinked, then scratched his head awkwardly. "Right. Then I'll eat it now?"
She glared.
"Do you always walk into a lady's cabin without knocking?"
Ron sighed helplessly. "The door wasn't locked! How was I supposed to know—"
Her frown deepened.
"So that's your excuse? That it's my fault you saw something you shouldn't have?"
"I didn't see anything!" he protested quickly, raising his hands. "Well… nothing I wasn't supposed to—"
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Nojiko's blush deepened instantly.
"You still looked!"
Ron groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're saying there might be a next time?"
He froze, caught completely off guard. "What? No! Of course not!"
Seeing his flustered expression, Nojiko couldn't help herself—her lips curved upward into a quiet, teasing smile.
As Ron turned to leave, she rested her chin on her hands, feeling the lingering warmth on her cheeks.
That strange flutter in her chest hadn't faded.
"Honestly…" she whispered to herself, smiling faintly. "What a fool he is."
But as the silence returned, her smile slowly faded.
What replaced it was something softer, almost wistful.
And her sigh drifted through the cabin like a whisper carried by the sea.
Two days later, in the Marines Headquarters, a tense meeting was underway.
The conference room was silent, save for the rustle of papers.
A stern-looking officer, Major Brannew—known among the Marines as "the Master of Briefings"—stood at the head of the table.
On the wall behind him hung a freshly printed wanted poster.
The name read: Ron.
Brannew's gaze swept over the gathered officers.
"This man is Ron," he began. "A bounty hunter with extraordinary skill."
"He first appeared in Orange Town, where he single-handedly defeated the Buggy Pirates, killing dozens of outlaws."
"After that, he destroyed the Arlong Pirates in Cocoyasi Village and eliminated Don Krieg, one of the East Blue's most dangerous captains."
The officers around the table exchanged looks of surprise.
One of them chuckled. "Sounds like he's been doing our job for us."
A few others nodded in agreement.
But Brannew's expression hardened.
"However," he continued, "when he went to the Sixteenth Branch to collect bounty payments, he engaged in direct conflict with Colonel Nezumi—and killed him."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Brannew's voice grew colder.
"It is true that Colonel Nezumi was corrupt. He colluded with Arlong's crew, took bribes, and oppressed civilians. The evidence is undeniable."
"But…" He paused, his gaze sharp as steel.
"The Marines's dignity is not something a bounty hunter can trample."
"No matter how corrupt a Marine may be, it is not his place to pass judgment."
"Justice," Brannew said firmly, "belongs to the Marines alone."
The room fell silent again.
But in that silence, one thing was clear—
a storm was brewing on the horizon,
and Ron had just become the center of it.
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