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aoi-13613 · 3 days

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I'm with the girlies hehe ✍🏻🧡💜

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namism · 3 days

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parts of me | nami

➳ categories: canonverse, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 1.4k

➳ notes: my two nami fics so far are kinda sad so the next one will be happy I PROMISE

When the Sunny is quiet as the sun sets in the horizon, with the aroma of herbs and tangerines coming from Sanji's kitchen and the faint tune of Brook's violin entering the women's quarters, Nami remembers the day she met you and the day you left.

Her thoughts oddly jump from point A to point B, a silly thing she's guilty of, but it's a thing that she can't stop doing because she makes up for the sad thought of your departure with the happy thought of your arrival into her life.

Looking out the window, her eyes follow the movement of the waves. They crash onto each other in a rhythmic motion, an effective hypnosis for her brain to shut down and work in slow motion. Nami calls this tendency of longing a "thing" rather than a "habit" because she denies that it is one. To her, "habit" suggests that she thinks of you all the time, which technically is the truth, but she can't let herself admit that just yet.

Suddenly, Robin calls from the doorway of the quarters, her mature voice as composed as always. "Nami. Sanji called you for a taste test."

Nami spins on her feet, taking her mind off the hypnosis, which only makes her dizzy. "Huh?"

Robin shuffles into the room and approaches her vanity, where she grabs a book that she left open a few hours ago after being called into Franky's workspace to lend a hand. She walks to the loveseat in the far corner of the quarters, and sits cross-legged as she reads where she left off.

"Sanji wants you to taste his tangerine dish." She giggles softly, her eyes creasing upon remembering Sanji's heart-shaped gaze.

"Ah, no wonder why it smelled like tangerines here." Nami diverts her gaze from Robin to the mini cartography table on her side of the room. She sees the unfinished map she drew of Sabaody Archipelago three days ago.

"(Y/N). I'm Shakky's neighbor, and sometimes her slave," you introduced yourself in a joking manner. Shakky, the 62-year-old woman who you grew up with the past nine years, threw an unused cigarette at your head.

"Don't lie to the guests, kid," she said.

Nami hummed in amusement. "I'm Nami. I came here with my crew."

Robin flips a page of her book.

"You seem upset, Nami. Can I help you?"

"Huh? No," Nami mumbles to herself. "I have something to do."

As the girl leaves the quarters, Robin assumes that she's on her way to taste Sanji's new dish that's awaiting her in the kitchen. Although not knowing Nami as she thought she did, she failed to catch the look on her face when she examined the half-drawn map on her table.

Nami walks out into the deck and looks toward south, where Sabaody and Fishman Island are. She sighs. To live with the feeling of longing is one thing (like when she longed for Bellemere's tangerines or when she longed to be with her crew when they were separated two years ago), but to live with this feeling that you can't admit is another.

"Thank you for helping us," Nami sent her thanks as you pulled her down into your wooden boat.

After a rocky encounter with a Celestial Dragon, you managed to get Nami and yourself to safety, while the other members of her pirate crew, the Straw Hats, as they called themselves, ran in different directions, with some of them running farther into Grove 17 of Sabaody Archipelago. Nami sat on the other edge of the boat as you paddled the vessel away from the Grove and to Shakky's bar.

"Don't mention it," you told her.

It took two days for Nami to reunite with half of the crew. By then, the Straw Hats scurried off into the other Groves to get down to business as the Marines arrived at the archipelago. You insisted on tagging along.

As Nami takes another step farther into the deck, the smell of Sanji's tangerine dish becomes stronger from the kitchen. She appreciates this as a form of distraction from her thoughts. When Sanji comes out in an apron and a mini pastry platter, she is even more relieved.

"Nami-swaaan, please try this dish!" he begs. "Please? Pleaseee?"

Nami grabs a cupcake from the platter and takes a bite as she looks into the distance. Tangerine-flavored. Of course, she thinks, but the flavor isn't too strong or too subtle. Sanji did a great job in integrating the tangerines adequately.

"It's delicious," she tells him. "Thank you, Sanji-kun."

Sanji grins to himself, delighted that he received a compliment from Nami out of all people. While he swoons, Nami notices a particular pastry on the platter that catches her attention.

"Is that—?" she cuts herself off to observe a little longer. "Oh, Sanji-kun, is that me?"

She points at a sugar cookie of a woman who looks exactly like her: orange hair, brown eyes, a smile, and a tight shirt and shorts... except that there is something else to it.

"I'm glad you noticed!" Sanji beams, happy for the second time this day. "I made a cookie for Robin-chwan as well!"

Nami appreciates the gesture. She wants to laugh at it, but Sanji might get the wrong idea, so she saves the reaction for later when she gets the time to think about it again.

She grabs the cookie from the plate and inspects it. It's a pretty piece of art (and a piece of herself, one can say) that she almost doesn't want to ruin, and instead just keep it in a glass box to be displayed in a museum.

She traces her finger over the hardened frosting, the orange color that was used in her hair leaving a barely noticeable stain on her finger.

Then she finally reacts. She lets out a small giggle that doesn't give Sanji the wrong idea. He still, however, asks why she's so bubbly all of a sudden.

"You're amazing," you told Nami in awe as she navigated through the Grove with an outmoded map. "I see it now. You're going to be the world's best navigator under the Pirate King's arm once you map out the whole world."

Nami's face flushed in a way that she couldn't hide. Eventually, she didn't bother hiding her face any longer as she boldly stared you down like it didn't affect her at all.

"And you're going to be the world's best boat pilot."

You laughed at her joke.

Nami clutches the ends of her hair and twirls the strands with her finger, thinking to herself deeply as Sanji waits for an answer.

"This might sound weird," you started, "but you're beautiful."

Nami narrowed her eyes at you. She had heard that compliment a hundred times in the past.

"I reckon that you hear that a lot." You chuckled. "Trust me, I'm not saying this to take advantage of you."

"What is it, then?" she asked.

"Rarely anyone here has orange hair. I find it beautiful that it's your natural beauty."

She didn't reply. Instead, she kept walking through the Grove as you followed.

"You'll forget this eventually. I know you will, but don't cut your hair, ever. It's a cute part of yourself," you told her.

"I just love it," she explains. She traces the ends of the hair that lie just above her shoulders, a depiction of her eighteen-year-old self two years ago. "Thank you, Sanji-kun."

Nami realizes that there is no way of escaping you as the past moments you shared together resurface in her brain in every second and every minute of the day. She wonders if she could ever escape a habit like this when she'll be surrounded by nothing but water for another week as they travel to a new island, somewhere far from Sabaody and devoid of your presence—and it doesn't help her case that old habits die hard.

Sanji goes back to the kitchen to finish cooking the rest of the crew's lunch, leaving Nami to her own devices on the deck. She takes small bites of the cookie, saving her head for last, while losing herself to the rhythmic motion of the ocean waves yet again, hypnotizing her mind to think about you, and only you, like a habit that will never die.