The cove was narrow, wedged between two cliffs as black as coal. The water lapped softly against the rocks, and the moon cast a pale light over the damp sand. Nami was crouched down, a stick in hand, drawing lines in the sand as if it were a treasure map. Yogiri, meanwhile, sat a little farther away, his back against a rock, eyes lost on the horizon. He hadn't moved since they arrived, as if time didn't exist for him.
"Alright, listen carefully," Nami said, planting the stick into the ground. "Arlong has seventeen guys. Not weaklings. If you take them all at once, they'll rush you, pin you down, and beat you before you can say a word. And I don't feel like ending up as minced meat."
Yogiri slightly turned his head toward her.
"I can kill even if they touch me."
"Yeah, great. But imagine this: one holds your arms, two beat you up, and a fourth cuts your head off while you're talking." She looked up. "So we're not doing that. We split them up. One by one. Like falling dominoes."
She drew a circle: Arlong Park. Arrows pointed outward—west beach, the old mill, Nojiko's house, the village tavern. "I create a distraction. I steal something from them: a weapon, a message, a bag of coins. They get angry, spread out. You stay in the shadows. When one comes alone to investigate…"
"Death."
"Exactly." She smiled, a bit nervously. "But it has to stay discreet. No noise, no bodies lying around. We make them disappear and let the others wonder what's going on."
Yogiri nodded. "Okay. You decide when."
Nami stood up, brushing sand off her hands. "We start tomorrow morning. First, we target the small ones. The lone patrols. Not the heavy hitters like Kuroobi or Chew. We save them for last."
The next day, the sun was already high when Nami left the cove. She wore a worn-out cloak to blend into the crowd and carried a small bag filled with fake documents—"orders" she had scribbled the night before, like "Arlong wants you to retrieve the treasure hidden at the mill." She walked to the path along the beach, where fish-men often passed.
The first to bite: a skinny guy with blue scales, patrolling alone. He saw the bag "accidentally" dropped near a bush. Nami pretended to panic and ran off. The fish-man chased her, growling, "Hey! That's mine!"
He turned the corner of the path—and Yogiri was there, motionless against a tree. The guy stopped dead.
"You… you're that kid from yesterday."
Yogiri looked at him without blinking.
"Death."
The body collapsed like a sack of sand. Nami came back ten seconds later, saw the corpse, and whispered, "First."
They did it three times before noon: one searching for a "lost message" near the mill, another "recovering a stolen weapon" at the tavern, a third following a fake trail to the beach. Each time, Nami lured them, Yogiri killed them. Not a sound. Not a scream. The fish-men vanished, and the village began to whisper: "There's a ghost…"
But Arlong wasn't stupid. Around noon, he gathered his crew in the courtyard of Arlong Park. He stood there, bare-chested, sharp teeth, a shark-like grin. "Someone's hunting us," he said in a deep voice. "Three missing. No bodies. No traces. That's not a normal human. That's… something else."
Kuroobi growled, "We should burn the village. That'll make them talk."
"No," Arlong replied. "We'll find them. And we'll make them suffer."
Nami and Yogiri had returned to the cove. She counted on her fingers. "Four down. Thirteen left. We speed up. Tonight, we target Chew. He likes to drink alone at the tavern. I'll slip him a note: 'Arlong wants to see you at the old bridge.' He'll go."
It worked. Chew left alone, grumbling into the night. Yogiri was waiting on the bridge.
"Death."
Another one.
But that's when things went wrong. Chew had warned a friend before leaving. The friend alerted Arlong. And Arlong, sensing the trap, decided to come in force. All night, they searched. At dawn, they were ten—Arlong leading, with Kuroobi, Hatchan, and seven others. They found the cove.
Nami and Yogiri were eating grilled fish when heavy footsteps echoed. Arlong appeared first, huge, eyes gleaming with rage and amusement.
"Well, well… the little navigator and her mute dog."
Nami stood up slowly, hand on her staff. Yogiri stayed seated.
Arlong stepped forward, arms crossed. "I lost seven men in two days. Seven. And I know it's you. No blood, no screams… just bodies dropping." He chuckled. "You're not human. What are you? A demon? A god? Or just a kid playing killer?"
Yogiri didn't answer.
Arlong continued, his voice rising: "Me, I'm Arlong. I broke this village. I killed mothers, fathers, children. I took their money, their hope, their lives. And you… you think you can challenge me? Me, who crossed the Grand Line? Me, who made marines kneel?" He pointed at Yogiri. "You're nothing. You're an insect. A parasite. And I'm going to crush you. Slowly."
He made a gesture. Kuroobi and Hatchan stepped forward, weapons drawn. The others formed a circle. Arlong's grin widened. "You've got two choices: either you surrender, and I keep you as slaves—Nami, you go back to drawing maps, and him, he becomes my toy. Or… you die. Here. Now."
Nami clenched her teeth. "You're stupid if you think we'll surrender."
Arlong burst out laughing. "Stupid? Me? I have everything. Strength. Men. Money. And you… you've got nothing but a weird kid. Look at him. He's not even shaking. Because he knows he's going to die."
He approached Yogiri, crouched down to look him in the eyes. "Tell me, kid. Are you scared? Do you want to beg?"
Yogiri looked up. Calm. Flat.
"No."
Arlong straightened, furious. "Then die!"
He raised his fist. But before he could hit Yogiri, the boy's voice cut through, sharp:
"Death."
Arlong froze. Then Kuroobi. Then Hatchan. Then the seven others. One by one, like puppets with their strings cut. They fell. All of them. Without a sound. Without a movement. Just bodies hitting the sand.
Silence. The wind blew. The waves continued.
Nami stood frozen, mouth open. Then she let out a small laugh—nervous, almost hysterical.
"Damn… was it really that simple?"
Yogiri finally stood up, brushing off his pants.
"Yeah."
She looked at him, still in shock. "You could've said that earlier!"
"You wanted one by one."
Nami shook her head, a slight grin on her lips. "Yeah, well… next time, we skip the strategy."
She walked up to Arlong's body, lying there, eyes wide open, dead. She gave him a small kick.
"See ya."
Then she turned back to Yogiri, more relaxed than ever.
"Alright. The village is free. Let's celebrate."
Yogiri shrugged.
"Okay."
And for the first time, Nami truly laughed. No fear. No stress. Just… relief.
They walked in silence along the path leading back to the village. The sun was beating down hard, but the air had changed—lighter, as if someone had opened a window in a suffocating house. Nami walked ahead, her shoulders slightly hunched, as if all the weight she had carried for years had finally cracked. Yogiri followed, just the same—not a word, not a glance back. But she could feel his gaze on her sometimes. Not heavy. Just… present.
Halfway there, Nami suddenly stopped. She turned to him, her eyes shining—not with tears yet, but close. She took a deep breath, as if she was about to burst.
"Yogiri…"
He stopped too, looking at her without saying anything.
She took a step forward, then another. And suddenly, she hugged him. Not a polite hug. A real one, tight, as if she needed to make sure he was real. Her arms wrapped around him, her head against his shoulder. She was trembling slightly.
"Thank you." Her voice cracked. "Thank you for… for doing all of this. Thank you for not being afraid. Thank you for being there. I… I carried this alone for so long. The maps, the lies, the fear… and you just… said one word. And it's over."
Yogiri didn't move. Not at first. Then, very slowly, one of his hands rested on her back. Not firmly. Not awkwardly. Just… there. A micro-reaction. His body stiffened for a second, as if he was discovering what it felt like. Then he relaxed. No smile. No sigh. But he didn't pull away.
Nami stayed like that for a moment, her face buried in his t-shirt that smelled of salt and sea. She murmured, "You don't have to answer. But… I needed this."
She finally let go, stepping back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Alright. Let's go home."
The village welcomed them like a wave. First, doors creaking open. Then faces at the windows. Then shouts. "Nami!" Nojiko ran out, arms wide open. She hugged her, almost lifting her off the ground. "You're back. You're really back."
Nami laughed—a real laugh, not forced. "Yeah. And it's over. Arlong… he's dead. All of them."
Nojiko stepped back, eyes wide. "How?"
Nami pointed at Yogiri. "Him."
People came out in droves. An old fisherman stepped forward, his voice trembling: "The fish-men… they're gone? Really?" Nami nodded. A woman started crying, a kid shouted "We're free!" and it spread. Applause, embraces, people hugging each other for no reason. Someone shouted "Thank you!" and everyone turned toward Yogiri.
He stood there, in the middle, motionless. Not a word. The looks on their faces—no fear, just… gratitude. A man patted his shoulder. "You saved our kids." An old woman took his hand. "May the gods protect you." He simply replied, "Okay." But he didn't leave. He stayed.
Nami, a bit farther away, watched the scene. She murmured to Nojiko, "He didn't move. But… he didn't run either."
Nojiko smiled. "Maybe he's starting to understand."
Someone brought grilled fish, fresh bread. They sat down in the square. Yogiri took a skewer without saying anything. He chewed slowly. No expression. But when a kid handed him a fruit, he took it. And he said, "Thank you."
The kid's eyes widened. Nami, who heard it, smirked. "Well… we're making progress."
The sun was setting. The waves kept rolling in, calm. And for the first time, Yogiri wasn't just looking at the sea. He was looking at the people around him. Not with emotion. Not yet. Just… with something that looked like presence.