The night was pitch black, yet the lights of Cocoyasi Village shone brighter than the stars.
The villagers brought out all the fine liquor and meat they had hidden away, setting up long tables in the clearing beside the orange grove. The sizzle of fish oil splattering on the charcoal mixed with laughter and cheers, drifting throughout the entire village.
Children chased each other with orange lanterns, the windmill on Genzo's hat spun wildly in the wind, and even the air was filled with the sweet scent of burnt orange peels.
Ryan found himself surrounded by several girls carrying bamboo baskets. They had just run back from the orange grove, their cheeks flushed from the sun, their clay bowls clinking together.
"Mr. Ryan, try this candied fruit!"
"Look at you, even more amazing than the heroes in stories!"
"Taste this orange marmalade - Nojiko made it!"
Their enthusiastic words mixed with the aroma of ale wafted toward him. Surrounded by them, breathing in the scent of food and the orange blossom fragrance from the girls' hair, he suddenly felt that this lively, bustling atmosphere was what truly being alive meant.
Not the cold-blooded slaughter of the Floating Island, but this - with laughter and conversation, food and drink.
Genzo approached with a bowl of liquor, the windmill on his hat gently swaying in the firelight. "Mr. Ryan, I toast to you! From now on, our village won't have to kowtow to the Fish-Men anymore!"
Nojiko followed behind, also holding a bowl of liquor. Her blue short hair shimmered with a soft glow in the firelight. Unlike the enthusiastic girls, she remained more reserved, but when she clinked bowls with Ryan, genuine laughter showed at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you."
Ryan accepted every toast without refusal, his bowl clinking repeatedly.
The spicy ale slid down his throat, warmth spreading through his stomach. Watching the villagers' drunken antics and listening to their off-key songs, the smile on his face grew wider and wider.
This was the first time in two years he had felt so relaxed. No need to stay vigilant against ambushes, no need to decipher anyone's intentions - just laughing along with the rhythm, raising his cup with everyone. This feeling of belonging to a group felt unfamiliar yet addictive.
The celebration lasted until late into the night. The bonfire gradually weakened, but some people were still singing and dancing. Ryan waved goodbye to everyone and followed Nojiko to her home.
The wooden house stood right beside the orange grove, a dried fishing net hanging at the courtyard entrance. When the door opened, the copper bell on the frame jingled, and the faint scent of soapberries drifted from inside.
"Have a seat, I'll boil some water." Nojiko led him to the inner room. A polished scimitar hung on the wall, and the bed was covered with faded, washed coarse cloth bedding. Moonlight slipped through the cracks in the wooden window, creating scattered bright spots on the floor.
Ryan had just leaned against the bed when he heard the door gently push open.
Nojiko walked in, having changed into a moon-white sleeveless nightgown. The blue tattoos on her exposed arms looked like flowing water under the moonlight, winding from her shoulders to her elbows, with similar patterns faintly visible on her upper chest. Her wheat-colored skin was coated with a silver sheen by the moonlight, strands of blue hair falling beside her cheeks, softening her originally handsome features with a touch of gentleness.
Ryan looked up at Nojiko, his gaze wandering over her with interest.
Her blue short hair fell beside her neck, just covering the part of the tattoo that extended to her collarbone, making one even more curious to see the hidden patterns. Under the sleeveless nightgown, the lines of her arms and shoulders were firm and smooth, clearly showing the muscle contours shaped by years of labor, yet abruptly narrowing at her waist into a slender curve.
It was a beauty that blended strength with softness—both the resilience to shoulder life's burdens and the unique tenderness of youth.
This woman truly had the allure to make one take risks, especially those legs. Faint scars from orange tree branches marked her calves, yet they did nothing to disrupt the graceful symmetry of their lines. Instead, they resembled natural patterns etched onto unpolished jade, far more captivating than those meticulously maintained, unnaturally smooth legs.
"You're here," Ryan said, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips, his tone as casual as a greeting.
Nojiko's cheeks flushed instantly. Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as if gathering immense courage before she finally stepped inside, gently closing the door behind her.
The room fell into a deep silence, so quiet they could hear each other's breathing—and the frantic drumming of her own heart.
She stood a few steps away from the bed, head bowed. Moonlight traced the trembling line of her shoulders. The hem of her nightgown reached just past her knees, revealing calves tensed with instinctive resistance.
"I…" She opened her mouth, wanting to break the awkward silence, but the words caught in her throat the moment her eyes met Ryan's.
His gaze was unflinchingly direct—drifting from her disheveled blue hair, down the flowing tattoo on her arm, to her tightly clenched fingers, and finally settling on the subtle curves beneath her nightgown.
Ryan simply watched, quietly observing.
It was a fair trade. He had rid Nojiko of the menace that was Arlong and his crew, restoring peace to the village, and she was paying the agreed price. It was only natural.
In a world where the strong preyed on the weak, he was merely using his power to obtain what he wanted. There was no reason for guilt.
Nojiko took a deep breath, the tattoo on her chest rising and falling with the motion. She could feel her back damp with cold sweat, her palms sticky.
Bellemere used to say that one must keep their word—that debts must be repaid, no matter how difficult the cost.
Arlong was gone. The villagers were smiling again. Children no longer had to hide trembling under their beds. All of this was because of the man before her. She had no right to back out now.
As if making a painful decision, she slowly raised her hands, trembling fingers untying the ribbon at the collar of her nightgown. As the knot loosened, the moon-white fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her elbows and revealing the full blue tattoo across her chest.
It was indeed an orange blossom, its petals intricately detailed as if real, winding around her collarbone, stark against her sun-kissed skin.
Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the fine hairs on her neck. Her waist was slender, but not in a frail way—it hinted at hidden strength, its gentle curve flowing into her hips. Every inch of her skin glowed with the healthy radiance of one kissed by the sun, carrying both the innocence of youth and the stubborn resilience forged by life.
Nojiko never looked up, her long lashes casting faint shadows beneath her eyes. Barefoot, she walked silently to the bed, the soles of her feet still dusted with fine sand from the yard, making no sound on the wooden floor.
The scent of oranges mingled with the crispness of soap, like dew-kissed Fruit, gently drifting to Ryan's nostrils.
"The deal you mentioned..." Her voice was soft, carrying a barely perceptible tremor, yet exceptionally clear, each word seeming to be squeezed through clenched teeth. "I haven't forgotten."
Outside the window, the sound of waves had unknowingly grown distinct, crashing against the reefs with a rhythmic roar, as if accompanying this silent promise.