( nami doesn't dawdle, but she sees shanks by the lake long before she manages her way there, which is — a little frustrating, because she hasn't yet figured out what to say to him. not because she's lacking any thoughts or forward momentum, but because the conversations they need to have have stacked up on top of each other so high, it's like a precarious stack of books willing to fall in any one direction. nami twists her hands around each other, cracking her knuckles, fidgeting with her stiff hands. misery is not so infrequent a look on her, that it's difficult to pick up the nuances of it — utter defeat thanks to koby, guilt because of set, directionless anger because of homelander. and all of it culminated in —
shanks, who she can't look at without seeing his brains under the beds of her nails.
so she looks away, futzing with her hands more, and then tightening the bandana on her head, and then running her knuckles up and down each other. it's already been too long for her to say anything normal, so she casts her gaze down, rubbing a hand under her nose. )
Hi.
( said to shanks' feet. after a second, she moves abruptly forward and wraps her arms around his waist, awkwardly. )
I'm sorry.
( about koby. about set. about killing you with a rock. about not apologizing sooner. )
( he waits under a tree, staring out at the rippling water and trying to imagine himself anywhere but here: on the banks of the nile, in a land of gods not his own; overlooking the sparkling lakes and fjords of elbaph, the land of giants, a home away from home. the soft sound of nami's voice anchors him back to reality, and he turns with a gentle, tired smile, equal parts reassuring and apologetic.
the embrace hurts, because his ribs are still newly fractured, but it doesn't matter. nami is here, with her arms around him, and shanks lifts his hand to her head, drawing her close to his chest. safe. )
I know. ( that she's sorry. he never blamed her. never could, never would. ) I'm sorry, too.
( for all the things he should have said sooner, for all the ways he should have supported her when she needed it most. for scaring her. for letting his own grief blind him to the hurt this has caused all of them. )
( stated, more than asked — the rarity of nami indulging in a hug with her cheek pressed against his chest, feeling about as small as she did when luffy placed shanks' hat on her head. of course i'll help you. of course i will. she wonders if luffy would've helped this version of her. the one with an intimate understanding of a skull fractures beneath her hands, of what shanks looks like when life teeters on the edge of oblivion. he wouldn't help her. nami knows that — she thinks shanks knows too, that he doesn't have anything apologize for. she's the monster between them. but she hugs him anyway because she's selfish and affection hungry, because being pressed here gives her the excuse not to look shanks in the eye, which she isn't strong enough for, anyway. funny. you can beat a guy's head in, but you don't have the stomach to look him in the eye after. some joke on cruelty.
she snuffles. all nami does lately is cry, between killing shanks and abandoning her friends, a broken leg in the woods, jinx resetting her. koby forgetting her, telling sanji she loves him at the worst possible time, werewolf starting, koby dying. where all the water comes from, she's not sure. the little ocean of misery that lives perpetually inside nami — water levels raised from years of neglect. she used to be numb. ish. then friendship happened to her. now? )
I know, I know I'm — the last person you should hear this from. ( nami is not a spokesperson for set. she still barely understands the guy, or why he does anything that he does. so there's no real authority but the guilt still inside her — what she knows, what she feels. ) But I don't think Set would want you to do — um. This. I. ( she squeezes him a little tighter, unaware of his broken bones. ) I didn't want him to tell you, because I knew you'd try to make me feel better, after. After you — after I hurt you, I wasn't — I didn't —
( she sighs, frustrated with her inability to get it out. her face presses a little harder against his chest, tears spilling out of her eyes. )
He sought me out. And I was a mess, and he was consoling me. I don't know why. ( she shakes her head. ) He should've been upset. I thought he'd hurt me, and I was scared he would, but I knew I'd deserve it. Whatever he wanted to do to me. ( there's a long lull of silence, nami's shoulders shaking with silent tears, things she hasn't grown out of feeling, yet. no matter how many times she presses her thumb in the open wound of killing shanks, it comes out soaked in blood, raw and unhealed. at length, ) He just — held me. While I cried.
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( nami doesn't dawdle, but she sees shanks by the lake long before she manages her way there, which is — a little frustrating, because she hasn't yet figured out what to say to him. not because she's lacking any thoughts or forward momentum, but because the conversations they need to have have stacked up on top of each other so high, it's like a precarious stack of books willing to fall in any one direction. nami twists her hands around each other, cracking her knuckles, fidgeting with her stiff hands. misery is not so infrequent a look on her, that it's difficult to pick up the nuances of it — utter defeat thanks to koby, guilt because of set, directionless anger because of homelander. and all of it culminated in —
shanks, who she can't look at without seeing his brains under the beds of her nails.
so she looks away, futzing with her hands more, and then tightening the bandana on her head, and then running her knuckles up and down each other. it's already been too long for her to say anything normal, so she casts her gaze down, rubbing a hand under her nose. )
Hi.
( said to shanks' feet. after a second, she moves abruptly forward and wraps her arms around his waist, awkwardly. )
I'm sorry.
( about koby. about set. about killing you with a rock. about not apologizing sooner. )
no subject
the embrace hurts, because his ribs are still newly fractured, but it doesn't matter. nami is here, with her arms around him, and shanks lifts his hand to her head, drawing her close to his chest. safe. )
I know. ( that she's sorry. he never blamed her. never could, never would. ) I'm sorry, too.
( for all the things he should have said sooner, for all the ways he should have supported her when she needed it most. for scaring her. for letting his own grief blind him to the hurt this has caused all of them. )
no subject
( stated, more than asked — the rarity of nami indulging in a hug with her cheek pressed against his chest, feeling about as small as she did when luffy placed shanks' hat on her head. of course i'll help you. of course i will. she wonders if luffy would've helped this version of her. the one with an intimate understanding of a skull fractures beneath her hands, of what shanks looks like when life teeters on the edge of oblivion. he wouldn't help her. nami knows that — she thinks shanks knows too, that he doesn't have anything apologize for. she's the monster between them. but she hugs him anyway because she's selfish and affection hungry, because being pressed here gives her the excuse not to look shanks in the eye, which she isn't strong enough for, anyway. funny. you can beat a guy's head in, but you don't have the stomach to look him in the eye after. some joke on cruelty.
she snuffles. all nami does lately is cry, between killing shanks and abandoning her friends, a broken leg in the woods, jinx resetting her. koby forgetting her, telling sanji she loves him at the worst possible time, werewolf starting, koby dying. where all the water comes from, she's not sure. the little ocean of misery that lives perpetually inside nami — water levels raised from years of neglect. she used to be numb. ish. then friendship happened to her. now? )
I know, I know I'm — the last person you should hear this from. ( nami is not a spokesperson for set. she still barely understands the guy, or why he does anything that he does. so there's no real authority but the guilt still inside her — what she knows, what she feels. ) But I don't think Set would want you to do — um. This. I. ( she squeezes him a little tighter, unaware of his broken bones. ) I didn't want him to tell you, because I knew you'd try to make me feel better, after. After you — after I hurt you, I wasn't — I didn't —
( she sighs, frustrated with her inability to get it out. her face presses a little harder against his chest, tears spilling out of her eyes. )
He sought me out. And I was a mess, and he was consoling me. I don't know why. ( she shakes her head. ) He should've been upset. I thought he'd hurt me, and I was scared he would, but I knew I'd deserve it. Whatever he wanted to do to me. ( there's a long lull of silence, nami's shoulders shaking with silent tears, things she hasn't grown out of feeling, yet. no matter how many times she presses her thumb in the open wound of killing shanks, it comes out soaked in blood, raw and unhealed. at length, ) He just — held me. While I cried.