Nami listened in silence as Vivi told her story.
At first, her expression was cautious, even skeptical — but as Vivi's trembling voice continued, her features softened.
Pity turned into understanding.
Understanding deepened into resonance.
She's just like me, Nami thought.
Only… her burden is even heavier.
Vivi was two years younger than her, yet she carried the fate of an entire kingdom on her shoulders.
And that look in her eyes — that quiet strength hiding behind fear — reminded Nami of a younger version of herself…
Ten years old, facing an entire village's despair alone.
Yes. They were the same.
The only difference was that Nami had been lucky enough to meet Ron — the man who tore down her chains and gave her back her freedom and dreams.
Nami's heart ached for Vivi.
She turned to Nojiko, eyes glistening. One silent exchange was enough.
Nojiko immediately understood. The anger that had burned in her chest just moments ago melted into a calm sigh.
She looked at Vivi, her voice gentle yet firm.
"Since it wasn't intentional… we'll forget the ten million."
Then she turned to Mr. 9, who was trembling so hard his crown almost fell off.
"And for her sake, you're off the hook too. Take her and go."
Mr. 9's jaw dropped.
"R-Really?!" he squeaked, voice cracking.
He tried to bow, tripping over himself in gratitude.
In his heart, he swore — never again.
No more thieves, no more whales, and most importantly, no more encounters with these two terrifying "tigresses."
But then, halfway to freedom, something dawned on him. His eyes widened as he looked back at Vivi.
"Wait… you… you're—"
"Quiet."
Ron's cold voice cut through the air like thunder.
That single word was enough to silence him.
Ron pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, eyes narrowing.
That man's voice is a headache in physical form.
He almost missed his old days of foreign-language study — at least back then, the words came with grammar. This? This was just noise.
"Since Nojiko's decided, you're free to go," Ron said at last.
There was no room for argument in his tone.
He didn't need to intervene further. When the sisters made up their minds, not even he could sway them.
Besides, he thought, smirking faintly — there would be plenty of time to deal with Vivi later.
Plenty of time to watch that dance again.
"Thank you," Vivi said softly, bowing deeply.
Then she turned — but carefully avoided Ron's gaze.
She could still feel his smirk somewhere behind her, and the memory of that humiliating "perfume dance" made her ears burn red.
Nami watched her go, silent and thoughtful, as Vivi and Mr. 9's small boat drifted toward the open sea.
Her heart was still stirring when she suddenly asked, "Crocodile — what's his bounty again?"
"Eighty-one million Beli," Crocus replied instantly.
"But that was years ago. Now that he's one of the Seven Warlords, the government's stopped issuing any bounties on him."
"Then…" Nami pressed on, eyes sharp. "Between him and Mihawk — who's stronger?"
Crocus didn't even hesitate.
"Mihawk, of course. The difference between them is like the distance between the sea and the sky."
Nojiko tilted her head, curious. "Why do you ask?"
Nami didn't answer.
She only turned, her eyes meeting Ron's across the deck.
It wasn't a look of words — just quiet, pleading faith.
And Ron understood instantly.
He always did.
He smiled, his voice low and steady.
"Ron once said — if it's something Nami wants, then even the stars aren't out of reach."
Nami threw her arms around him, her heart swelling with warmth.
Their souls — intertwined by countless storms — didn't need words anymore.
One glance, one heartbeat, was enough.
She knew it was foolish to get involved again, to take on someone else's fight.
But she couldn't ignore Vivi's pain.
Because once, she had been that helpless girl.
Begging for someone to care.
Crocus saw the look in their eyes — and smiled knowingly.
Quietly, he turned and left the ship.
Nojiko followed, though her steps slowed as she reached the deck.
And that was when she heard it —
Nami's whisper, soft and teasing against Ron's ear:
"Tonight… I've got a big surprise for you."
Nojiko froze, then bolted.
Her face flushed red as she hurried down the gangplank — far faster than she intended.
Not long after, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, a familiar voice called out from the shore.
"Um… excuse me!"
Vivi stood there again, her expression a mix of embarrassment and resolve.
"Our Log Pose was… lost. Could you possibly take us to Whiskey Peak?"
Her tone was humble, her posture awkward.
After everything that had happened, asking for another favor was mortifying.
But she had no choice.
Nojiko smiled kindly.
"Whiskey Peak? That's on the way," she said lightly. "Though our real destination is Alabasta."
Her eyes twinkled with pride.
"Our captain's a bounty hunter. He's already decided to claim Crocodile's head."
Vivi froze.
Her heart leapt — then sank.
"Crocodile…" she whispered, her face pale. "He's not someone you can fight. He's the one behind the civil war — one of the Seven Warlords. Even the Marines can't stop him!"
"Seven Warlords, huh?"
The words drifted down from above — smooth, steady, unmistakably confident.
Ron stood at the rail of the Themis, gazing down at her.
"Other than Mihawk, are any of them really worthy of the word 'strong'?"
His grin widened. "Little dancer, are you insulting me by comparing me to that man?"
A faint blush crept across Vivi's cheeks.
"Ron…"
She didn't know whether to be annoyed or reassured by his arrogance.
To him, Crocodile — the man who would one day be crushed by a Haki-less Luffy — was hardly a threat at all.
If not for meeting Vivi, Ron had planned to head straight to Asca Island, to claim the Seven Star Sword.
But now, seeing the plea in Nami's eyes — and the fire in Vivi's — he changed his course without a second thought.
"Very well," he murmured, smiling. "Alabasta it is."
After all, life's beauty lay in detours.
And what was a ship without its crew of dreamers?
A navigator, a steward…
But they still lacked a cook. A musician. A doctor. A scholar.
And, of course — a dancer.
His gaze lingered on Vivi.
An exotic princess. Graceful, proud… and unexpectedly fierce.
Perfect.
"Besides," he said with a knowing smirk, "Crocodile's a Sand-Logia, isn't he? The Sand-Sand Fruit."
"Not exactly impressive in my book."
But then, a spark of inspiration flashed through his mind.
A plan — both absurd and brilliant.
"The True Desert Queen, huh…" he murmured under his breath.
His grin deepened.
"Perhaps it's time the world met the original — the Wind-Dancing Queen of the Sands."
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