The air crackled with the aftermath of Zoro's victory. Hatchan, the six-armed menace, lay in a defeated heap, his swords scattered like broken promises. Zoro stood over him, blood dripping from a dozen wounds, his breath a ragged saw in his chest. He didn't have time to savor it.
Across the shattered courtyard, Sanji blocked Kuroobi's hammer-like fist with a crossed-arm guard, the impact shuddering through his entire frame.
"You're still standing?" Kuroobi sneered, his fish-man features twisting in surprise. "My *Shotei* should have shattered your bones."
Sanji pushed back, skidding on the broken stone. He brought a hand to his aching sternum, a smirk playing on his lips despite the pain. "That little love tap? The old geezers at the Baratie have kicked harder when I burned the soup."
Kuroobi's eyes narrowed into slits of pure malice. "You dare underestimate me, surface-dweller? I will grind you into the dirt."
"Talk, talk, talk," Sanji shot back, lighting a cigarette with a flick of his wrist. The flame was a tiny, defiant beacon. "Your friend there did the same. Now he's taking a nap."
But the bravado was a thin veil. Zoro's gaze was locked on the murky pool at the center of Arlong Park. Somewhere in that dark water, their captain was drowning.
"The idiot's out of time," Zoro growled, sheathing his swords with a grimace. Every movement pulled at the deep gashes Hatchan had left.
"What are you doing, moss-head?" Sanji snapped, keeping his eyes on the circling Kuroobi.
"What does it look like? Going to get him."
"With those injuries? The water pressure will kill you before you reach the bottom. You'll just sink and die."
"Then what's your brilliant plan, cook?" Zoro snarled, turning on him. "Wait here and watch his bubbles stop?"
Their argument was a lifeline to normalcy, fraying fast. Below the surface, in the silent, crushing dark, a different drama was unfolding.
---
Genzo's lungs burned. Beside him, Nojiko's eyes were wide with panic, bubbles streaming from her lips. Before them, trapped in a sphere of solid rock at the pool's floor, was Monkey D. Luffy. His eyes were closed. His chest wasn't moving. A slow stream of precious air trickled from his slack mouth.
*No. Not like this. Not after eight years of waiting.*
Genzo slammed his fist against the rock. It didn't even chip. He pointed frantically at Luffy's chest, then mimed pumping motions. Nojiko understood. They positioned themselves on either side of the rock sphere. Genzo placed his hands over Luffy's heart and pushed down with all his might, once, twice, a desperate, underwater CPR.
Nothing.
Nojiko's vision began to spot. They were out of oxygen. Out of time. Then, her eyes fell on Luffy's rubbery neck. A wild, impossible idea took hold. She grabbed his head and pulled.
It stretched.
She pulled harder, kicking towards the distant, shimmering surface. Genzo saw her plan and helped, pushing the rock to guide it. With their last strength, they breached. Nojiko gasped a lungful of air, holding Luffy's stretched, unconscious head above the waterline at the pool's edge.
"Cough, damn you!" she begged, slapping his rubbery cheek. "Cough it up!"
A gurgle. A convulsion. A jet of seawater erupted from Luffy's mouth as he choked back to life, his head lolling on the stone.
"Yes!" Nojiko cried, tears mixing with the pool water on her face.
They had given him air. But his feet were still sealed in a tomb of stone at the bottom of the pool. He was a living, breathing anchor.
---
Above, Sanji saw it all—the break in the surface, Nojiko holding Luffy's head aloft.
"Now!" Zoro yelled.
Sanji made his decision in a heartbeat. "You're right, marimo. We're out of time."
He turned and sprinted not toward Kuroobi, but toward the pool's edge.
"Running? Pathetic!" Kuroobi roared.
"Not running," Sanji said, without looking back. "Changing the venue."
He took a last, deep drag of his cigarette, flicked it away, and dove into the water in a perfect, clean arc.
Zoro's blood ran cold. "COOK!"
Kuroobi's laughter was a guttural, triumphant sound. "A human, challenging me in my domain? This is a gift!" He leaped, his form cutting into the water with barely a splash, a predator returning to its element.
The world muted. The frantic sounds of battle faded into a thick, oppressive silence. Sanji kicked downward, the light from above growing dimmer. The cold seeped into his wounds, a dull, aching throb. He held his breath, a clock ticking loudly in his skull.
*Thirty seconds.*
He saw them below: Genzo, pointing frantically at the rock encasing Luffy's feet. The captain's body was a lifeline stretched between the bottom and the surface. All Sanji had to do was break the stone. One good kick. That's all.
*Forty-five seconds.*
A shadow, fast and sleek, shot past him. Kuroobi. The fish-man didn't head for Sanji. He saw Genzo—a vulnerable target—and changed course, his webbed hands poised to strike.
"No you don't," Sanji thought, the words bubbles in his mind. He kicked hard, intercepting Kuroobi, wrapping his arms around the fish-man's thick legs.
Kuroobi looked back, surprised, then delighted. He could breathe here. Sanji could not. He spoke, his voice distorted but clear underwater. "You cling to me? Here, I am not just stronger. You are *crippled*."
He twisted, his muscular tail whipping around. Sanji held on, but his grip was slipping. Kuroobi's long, powerful ponytail snaked out, wrapping around Sanji's torso like a constricting eel, pinning his arms.
*One minute. His lungs screamed.*
Sanji tried to kick, a desperate *Diable Jambe* ignition that fizzled into a weak, bubbling flare. The water stole its power, its heat. Kuroobi easily swayed back, the mockery evident in his eyes.
"Your fire is drowned, little chef," Kuroobi taunted. "Your strength is halved. Your air is gone. This is not a fight. This is an execution."
He drew his fist back, water swirling around it with concentrated force. *Fish-Man Karate: Thousand Brick Fist.*
Sanji struggled, but the ponytail held him fast. He looked past Kuroobi. He saw Genzo's desperate face. He saw the rock holding Luffy. He saw the faint, struggling rise and fall of the rubber neck leading to the surface.
He was out of time. Out of air. Out of options.
Kuroobi's fist shot forward, aimed not at Sanji, but past him—a pressurized blast of water meant to shred Genzo and Nojiko where they clung.
With the last of his will, Sanji wrenched his body sideways.
The brutal impact didn't hit the villagers.
It took Sanji square in the chest.
A shockwave of pure, concussive force erupted through the water. Sanji's eyes blew wide. A torrent of precious, silvery air bubbles exploded from his mouth in a silent scream. The constricting ponytail fell away as he was blasted backward, slamming into the rocky pool wall with a sickening crunch.
Darkness crowded the edges of his vision. The last thing he saw was Kuroobi turning away from him, a victorious sneer on his face as he advanced on the defenseless Genzo.
And from above, breaking the surface with a roar of pure rage, a three-sword style slash already forming in his hands, came Roronoa Zoro, diving into the deep—directly into the waiting arms of the undefeated Arlong, who had been watching from the shadows with a cruel, patient smile.
The water, once still, was now a vortex of converging fates, and at its heart, the Straw Hat's chef sank into the dark, a final stream of bubbles rising from his lips like a farewell.