An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
AKA Obligatory everybody is alive and nothing hurts, attempt #254666
This piece is a "Pick one" commission from the_rin on AO3! Thank you so much again for commissioning me and for your endless patience while I struggled with this creature that decided to run away from me 🤍🙏
One day, I might be able to actually write this story in Luffy's POV (which is what it was originally supposed to be both four years ago when I first had the idea and now.. but I still don't have enough skill and confidence to successfully make it ☠️
So for now, please enjoy Nami's slowly losing it while chaos rules over Sabaody 🍊
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3D2Y
As Nami climbed up onto the Sunny’s deck for the first time in two years, with a wide smile on her lips and arms full of shopping bags, she could barely contain her excitement. After all, it now finally felt like time was moving again after the crew’s separation.
When she had gotten the news of the war while on Weatheria, it was like a punch in the gut. She had seen the photos of the state both Luffy and Ace were in before their escape—both with terrible burn scars on their chests with blood all over their faces, looking on the brink of death. The following days were nothing short of a high-speed nightmare filled with nothing but worry, fear, and the need to be by Luffy’s side with no way to get to him.
She trusted that Luffy would make it… but there was no real guarantee he would. Or that Ace would.
Nami didn’t dare imagine how Luffy would feel if he had lost his brother. While completely alone, with no one from the crew by his side… Her heart nearly broke at the mere thought of it.
So, when the news of Luffy’s escapade at Marineford reached her a few weeks later, seeing the message he had for his crew, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest. She knew what Luffy was trying to say. She understood. And she knew that she, too, could get stronger.
With Weatheria’s science, she was sure she could become a navigator capable of getting Luffy wherever he damn well wanted.
And she was confident that now, two years later, she was more than able to do that.
Even though she imagined that Luffy was going to come up with the stupidest, most dangerous places to sail to…
But, that was a battle she would fight when they got there; for now, she was just beyond excited to see everyone!
By the time she had arrived on Sabaody a few days ago, only Franky and Zoro were already there—one of which was definitely hopelessly lost and possibly half-way to Fishman Island by that point—but now… Now it all felt so much more real.
Usopp and Chopper were with her—or had been before they ran off to rave over Franky—, Shakky said that Brook and Sanji were somewhere on the archipelago, and now, even Robin was on the ship already, waiting for Nami to climb up the ladder.
They were only missing Luffy now, but that was just a matter of time.
Honestly, their biggest problem at this point was finding Zoro and dragging his directionally challenged ass back here.
“Nami! I’m so happy to see you!” Robin said, pulling Nami into a hug as soon as she found her balance on the jelly-like coating under her feet.
Nami laughed easily, returning the gesture. “Same to you! You look amazing!” she complimented the archeologist, sighing in content at the familiar warmth of her friend’s presence.
That is, at least, until a high-pitched scream resounded around the deck, startling Nami and making her jump.
“Hair comes out?!”
“Awesome!!”
“Can you make any hairstyle you want?!”
Heaving a deep sigh, Nami shook her head. “I can’t believe Franky’s body got even more ridiculous. What even is going on over there?”
“Who knows?” Robin chuckled “Looks like the boys like it though.”
“Such a bulky body seems so inconvenient. I don’t get it,” another woman piped up.
“Right?” Nami agreed with a huff. “I mean, what’s with those shoulders—”
Suddenly, Nami stopped talking. Blinking a few times, she tried to figure out what it was that suddenly felt so off… but then, she whipped around in the direction of the last voice—a distinctly unfamiliar voice.
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