This is a test.
Let's see if it works.
One.
Impel Down was as cold and bleak as ever, but even the most recent inmate of level 6 wasn't bothered by it. Not anymore, that is. She had gotten quite easily used to being chained down and behind bars, maybe because her childhood hadn't been all that different from the things she was experiencing now. The spilled food (when it wasn't laced with drugs), the insults slung into her direction, the mockery and the leers - this jail was more tangible than the one she'd known as a girl (in more ways than she cared to count), but being caught here felt the same as it had back then. The fact that she had been given an entire cell for her lonesome self - which had nothing to do with her being the only woman incarcerated on level 6 - only reinforced the feeling. She was trapped and alone.
Alright, those manacles had taken a few days getting used to, she'd admit that much.
But solitary confinement was alright with the woman. It was the way she liked it but there was no way in hell (not 'no way in Impel Down' because the jail was horrible, but a true hell, Nami knew, was even worse) she would allow anyone to become prone to this knowledge.
It was her status as the navigator of the (infamous and notorious) Straw Hat Pirates that had gotten her the cell hidden deep in Impel Down's stone-cold bowels, not her meagre bounty of 16 million belli, which was a bit of an inside-joke among the other level 6 inmates. Nami had learned to ignore their jibes about how they were letting just anyone into the high-security levels. Their mockery was less of an attempt to insult her and motivated by the need to prove themselves 'more' to the woman. Her alliance, combined with the fact that her captain was the only one to successfully break into Impel Down and leave it again, guaranteed her a special treatment. More so than her involvement in the destruction of Enie's Lobby, her captain's assault on the world aristocrats or her contribution in her crew's war against the world government.
Those were just the icing on the cake.
Another, much more prominent factor was the circumstance that the world government apparently hadn't yet decided what to do with her, or so she was told. On the one hand, Nami knew, her crimes against the government and her alliance were more than enough to warrant a death sentence. On the other hand, it was pretty obvious that she would make a great bait for her captain and nakama. The navigator was certain that her fate was closely tied to whatever plans were currently being hatched with the goal of taking out Monkey D. Luffy and his crew. There was also the fact that Impel Down really couldn't take another surprise attack courtesy of the Straw Hat. Especially if he brought his crew along for the ride and who knew how many pirates, bound to make an appearance just because the exuberant supernova was going to be there. And although her nakama hadn't so much as lifted a finger to reclaim their navigator that didn't mean they weren't going to do so in the future.
Even reinforced as it was now, the high security prison was unwilling to take any risks where the Straw Hats were concerned: who knew what inane abilities the crew's infamous Monster Trio had obtained in the meantime? No one, least of all the current prison warden, was eager to see how the reinforced security would hold up to that test. And this had everything to do with absolutely no one, not even the person who had designed the new security measures, believing that they'd do Impel Down any good against the one crew they hoped to keep out. Which was kind of ironic, considering Impel Down's purpose.
Nami assumed that this was also one of the reasons why her (obligatory) trial and sentence had not yet taken place: after the destruction of Marineford and the chaos they had wrought in the New World, officials weren't eager to rush legal proceedings against any affiliate of Monkey D. Luffy without sufficient preparations in place. Luffy had the uncanny ability to make loyal friends in the unlikeliest of places; loyal powerful friends. So instead, they kept her locked away and her fate undecided until whatever scheme they were planning could be set into motion. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. She estimated almost two. And just as she'd known it began to dawn on her captors that no one was going to come to safe her just yet. Terror turned into habit - on both sides of the bars.
The longer she remained captive, the less cautious they became, less spooked they seemed to be by her and her crew. Some of the prison guards were starting to believe that they might just get away with imprisoning a Straw Hat... Yet there was no talk about moving her to one of the lower levels. The prison warden - on principle - refused to take any risks with regard to Nami.
And then there was Sadi-Chan. Or rather: there was a distinct lack of Sadi-Chan.
Impel Down didn't tread lightly for it's prisoners' sakes and Sadi-Chan was a regular visitor on Level 6. Apart from being Chief Guard, the woman was also chiefly sadistic and if Warden Hannyabal wanted someone 'interrogated', he usually let Sadi-Chan do the honors. Her methods were limited to torture, but the damage she wrought was substantial. Nami had often seen the results of such interrogations dragging itself back into its assigned cell and had drawn her own conclusions. Time alone with Sadi-Chan was not a pleasurable experience, unless you were Sadi-Chan.
Sometimes, the woman would stand in front of Nami's cell, a wistful expression on her face and her hands restlessly massaging her precious whip. The pirate refused to be openly intimidated by such gestures, though Sadi-Chan staring at her for any amount of time took her back to memories of Arlong Park and Bellemere's death. Curiously enough, Nami wasn't once 'interrogated', nor was she subjected to any form of torture other than verbal abuse. This lead her to assume that Sadi-Chan might be thinking of her in terms of a sparkling new toy she didn't get to play with. There was no point in trying to figure out why she ended up this privileged - you didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially if said gift horse meant you didn't have to get up close and personal with that whip.
Regardless, Nami was not left to her own devices, either. She received regular visits by a severe looking man with a gaunt face, wrapped into an impressive purple robe, who kept pointing out to her that her captain had forsaken her and was undeserving of her loyalty. He implored her to do the right thing just this once and tell them everything about her crew because anything she knew might help them to catch those that had abandoned her.
"Don't you want to see them brought to justice for betraying you like this?" he would ask and Nami would stare ahead with a dull expression and say nothing until he became annoyed or frustrated with her silence and left again. As long as she made sure to avoid the drugs, she'd be giving him the silent treatment for a good long time.
The gaunt man's visits would also leave her both happy and sad. Because the fact that they were still trying to weedle information out of her meant her crew was still up and about, wreaking havoc as they went. But when she was asked about the swordman's weaknesses, about how it came to be that Sogeking was no longer a part of their group, whom exactly they had stolen their pet from and what they'd done to that person and why they'd wanted the blue-nosed tanuki (she didn't bother to correct them) in the first place, what sort of relationship she had with her former captain, when they demanded she tell them how exactly Black Leg Sanji looked - then all she could do was to think of Arlong as hard as she could, of Pacifista, of slimy snails and furry rats, lest they'd see the longing and heartbreak on her face. It was strange to be homesick for a place that didn't have a fixed point in the world, but more than for Cocoyashi, Nami longed for the Sunny. She missed the feel of the planks beneath her feet, the familiar sounds of the ship plowing through the ocean while she charted its course - the insults (Zorry and Sanji), the rauceous laughter (Luffy, Usopp and Chopper), the faint twang of a violin or, more often lately, a guitar (Brook), the dull hammering somewhere below her as the Sunny was maintained and improved (Franky) and the scent of sweet flowers as soft steps passed by her desk to reach the book shelf (Robin).
That she knew for a fact that no one would come for her, that those happy days were indeed over, didn't exactly improve her mood (yet oddly strengthened her resolve). But this, too, she didn't dare tell those standing on the other side of the cold steel bars. For the sake of her captain and her crew, it was imperative that they never knew how far the Straw Hats were willing to go to see their captain crowned Pirate King. As long as she remembered that, as long as she didn't get too comfortable in their routine of polite questioning and verbal abuse, as long as she remained on her toes and tried to avoid the drugs, Nami knew that everything would go according to plan. No matter how long they would keep her imprisoned.
Thus, it was with a great amount of surprise that Nami received her newest visitor. And of course, the first one to seek her out in her nearly timeless prison had to be him of all people.
Oh, she could deal with that lazy smirk, piece of cake. She could absolutely ignore that relaxed posture - relaxed, because he didn't have to run around with heavily shackled wrists, and wasn't that unfair? - like it was old news. But that slightly mocking drawl as he addressed her so casually with "Miss Nami" - that she absolutely couldn't ignore. Out of the mouth of Trafalgar Law, even the politest mode of address sounded condesceding and rude - which was particularly true for the 'miss' he'd tacked to her name. In retaliation, she threw his title and name in his face as if it were the harshest insult she could muster without stooping so low to using foul language. Because who knew what happened if she didn't show at least modicum of courtesy? But of course, she was still entitled to clearly communicate her distaste for the man standing before her.
"Captain Trafalgar."
He inclined his head in a polite mockery of a greeting. "You look absolutely devastated, Miss Nami," he said and the way he emphasised his words let her know that Trafalgar Law didn't care if she was offended by this or not. And although she knew that he was right, that didn't make his observation any less annoying. She'd kept her hair braided and tied together with a torn off strip of clothing to prevent it from entangling hopelessly, but combing it with her fingers could do only so much. Like all level 6 inmates, she was allowed one ice cold shower per week (she was even given the luxury of a private shower by herself with only Domino standing watch as opposed to the men, who got to take their showers in groups of 15, believing this to be either a concession to her gender or another aspect of her solitary confinement) and although she'd always taken care to be thorough, the allotted time and water left a lot to be desired in terms of Nami's standards for personal hygiene. But at least Nami had made an effort.
For her own sake and comfort, not that of anyone else.
As his eyes swept over her slimmed down form, she thought the expression on her captain's rival might be disapproval. She didn't bother trying to escape his scrutiny (there was no point in it), assuming he would begin to pick up the individual short-comings of her current appearance. When he finally spoke, it was in the calm, neutral tones of a medical professional.
"I am told that you haven't been eating," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why is that?"
"Don't like the seasoning," she quipped lightly. Somewhere in the neighbouring cell, a shadowy figure chuckled.
"Too much salt?" Law enquired and Nami shook her head.
"Too many drugs," the woman replied.
A few glances were exchanged between the guards accompanying the quiet captain, whose quirked eyebrow was a mute invitation to elaborate. Nami decided to humor him.
"If it's a stew, they add maiden's whisper and-dash-or some babble juice; if it's a salad, they add red tattle berries or an oil made with them. There's always snicker gras with the rice and sweet delirium in the tea," she explained offhandedly. Law tilted his head to the side. The imprisoned woman had referred to the herbs used to drug her food by their common names rather than their scientific ones, which was to be expected. What was completely unexpected was the fact that not only could she tell him which drug was contained in which dish, but was apparently also able to avoid them somehow. He knew that any attempts to interrogate the Straw Hat navigator had been successfully thwarted by her, although the prison warden had gone to great lengths to get ensure enough truth serum-like substances were added to her meals since there was a strict order to refrain from inflicting physical torture on the woman. Not because they were worried for the Straw Hats' inevitable revenge, but because the navigator was the frailest and weakest member and most likely to not survive the ordeal. Right now, Cat Burglar Nami was alive more valuable to the world government than dead.
"How would you know?" he asked, sounding only marginally more interested in her answer than the glares being directed at his back. Briefly, Nami wondered how many of those shadowy figures held a grudge against Trafalgar Law personally and principally on account of him being either a) a pirate, b) a government sanctioned pirate and c) free to go. There was a calculating look in his cold, gray eyes and she decided to humor him one more time. Just to be safe.
"I've got a fine sense of taste. Maiden's whisper leaves a taste like sesame oil, babble juice is sour like lime. Red tattle berries are bitter and their juice turns brown if exposed to air for half an hour or longer. Snicker gras leaves a blue-greenish tint on the rice once it's cold and has a light taste of garlic. There's nothing to it, really."
She didn't mention that she used to have a high tolerance of all these drugs after Arlong had first introduced her to them (which was early and frequent after she had joined his crew). After she'd become familiar with the effects she'd begun to build a tolerance, faking the appropriate effects when necessary.
"And the sweet delirium?" he demanded. Nami made a dismissive gesture.
"They always overdose on it."
It was common knowledge that sweet delirium, in small doses, was sugary-sweet to the taste and therefore the perfect addition to any sweet drink or food. But overdosed, it left behind a distinct flavor. While this wasn't an unpleasant taste, it was immediately noticeable as it superimposed itself over any other flavor.
Knowing this it was a child's play for Nami (or anyone) to avoid ingesting too much of the drugs and slowly start to rebuild her tolerance. She'd started with snicker gras and sweet delirirum, because rice and tea were going to serve her better in the long run than the varying dishes and drug doses they contained. Impel Down did serve both with every meal - at least on level 6.
"I see," Trafalgar Law drawled, his habitual smirk tugging against the corners of his mouth. "Well, well. Full of surprises, aren't you?"
Nami offered a shrug in return to his comment. The Shichibukai gave a short, sharp gesture over his shoulder. It failed to dismiss the pair of prison guards, who remained rooted in place even as Law came to stand in front of the cell. Seemingly careless the lean man let himself drop to the floor and crossed his legs. He made a very definite gesture at a spot directly opposite of him on Nami's side of the bars. The message was clear and with a theatrical sigh, the woman retreated further into her cell before returning with a folded up, moldy blanket to sit on. Satisfied, the government sanctioned pirate reached into the inside of his coat and produced two plain metal cups and a hip flask. The two guards shifted uncomfortably.
"I wasn't aware you could just waltz into Impel Down to share drinks with the inmates," Nami said quietly as she warily watched her visitor beginning to pour out two drinks with deliberate slowness. He seemed to be awfully cheap about sharing, filling both cups to only a quarter.
"Other than Mister Straw Hat, I don't think anybody can," the other pirate conceded. "But I have made special arrangements."
"Special arrangements?" Nami echoed. The dark haired man ignored that remark and held a cup out to her.
"Now to what should we drink, Miss Nami? To freedom? To dreams? Friends? Oh... how about to loyalty?" he taunted. Nami allowed herself a few moments of silence before taking the proffered cup. A quick glance inside confirmed her assumption: the metal cup was filled only a few inches, probably no more than two fingers high, with a richly amber-colored liquid.
"To loyalty," she responded softly, slightly tilting her cup into the captain's direction in an inclination of clinking glasses with him. The man's thin lips widened momentarily into something that could be almost called a smile before raising the cool metal to his lips.
The alcohol swept down her throat, leaving tingly warmth in it's wake. Nami closed her eyes, savouring the taste. "Sweet and nutty... oranges and... smoke," she commented quietly. "This is a North Blue malt, isn't it? A Two Rivers?"
"Indeed," her visitor confirmed, appreciation colouring his voice warmer than she thought it capable. "The single malt, 14 years. You appreciate a fine whiskey, Miss Nami?"
"I appreciate anything that is fine, captain," was her prompt, saucy reply. It immediately caused some jeers from the inmates in the neighbouring cells and within moments, the surrounding cells exploded in noisy, vulgar comments. The cacophony succesfully forced his guards away from Trafalgar Law in an effort of re-establishing peace and quiet, and left them well out of ear shot. This time, he did smile. Trust the Straw Hat navigator to be on top of her game even behind bars.
"Why are you here?" It wasn't exactly a question, but he didn't mind. This wasn't exactly a social visit, either.
"To offer you a deal."
Nami snorted. "What? To trade my life against that of my captain? My crew? I'd never betray them. Oh, let me guess: it's in your best interest?"
"Barely. Mostly, it's in the best interest of people you have been trying very hard to protect."
"My crew doesn't need my protection," she snapped and it came out harsher than she had intended it to. Law showed himself unphased by her little outburst.
"Indeed." The world was drawled with enough thinly veiled menace, that it made her skin crawl. The Surgeon of Death wasn't Sadi-Chan, however. She was more spooked of his unnerving presence than of the whip-wielding prison guard and he got under her skin more easily. Maybe because Sadi's was the kind of menacing that was out and there for everyone to see, whereas Law's was the quiet kind. His face betrayed not a single emotion or flicker of thought, although she knew that the gears in his head were listlessly turning. He liked to stay ahead of things and in control, very much like herself. And the annoying thing was that right now, he was and she had no means of breaking his hold on their encounter. But she would have to make an effort, anyway.
"Then this conversation is over." Nami bit out. Stubbornly, she put the metal cup down and completely missed the flicker of triumph in her opposite's eyes. Law was a little disappointed that she'd walked right into it, but his voice lost nothing of the quiet edge that worked so well on the red-haired woman.
"Far from it. Or am I to assume you no longer care about Cocoyashi Village?"
Nami felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Shock and surprise were clearly visible in her face. This, she hadn't expected. Even less than the fact that her opposite was appearing to find great satisfaction in the shock she showed.
"It's been a while since you've been to the East Blue, hasn't it?" he began conversationally. "Why don't I bring you up to date?"
There was an odd air of serene gleefulness about him which didn't quite match his stoic personality. "You are aware that there's been an investigation of how it came to be that an entire island was occupied by a known criminal for almost a decade, aren't you?"
Nami nodded slowly. Of course there had been an investigation. When a pirate interfered with what should be the Marine's work, there was always an investigation. In the case of Arlong, Luffy's interference had been passed off as a happy coincidence. Coincidence because naturally, the Marine had been fully aware of the fishman's doings and had been merely waiting for the right moment to strike. But then Luffy had come along and had rendered all their careful planning obsolete by removing the threat with complete disregard to the safety of the innocent civilians who had suffered greatly at the hands of the Arlong Pirates.
At least, that's what the newspapers had written shortly after she had left her home island behind.
"The conflict between your crew and Arlong's was put down as a minor power struggle. The file has been re-opened twice since."
"Twice?"
"Indeed, Miss Nami. Two years ago, when your crew vanished, marine soldiers stationed near Cocoyashi reported something quite curious."
Trafalgar Law was obviously enjoying this and despite the rising feeling of dread, Nami knew she was required to play a long. With great effort, she managed to sound somewhat neutral when she finally asked: "What was that?"
"A funeral service," the Surgeon of Death replied, taking another languid sip from his cup. The woman in front of him barely tensed, he noted. "Held in the memory of yourself, your captain and your crew. The half the island was in attendance. You received full honors. Even those members of your crew that joined long after you entered the Grand Line."
Trafalgar Law paused to watch the woman guide the cup to her lips and drink. She'd been pretty when she had first been brought to Impel Down and even now, she was attractive in a too-skinny kind of way that came with her self-imposed - for lack of better word - fasting. She'd been aware of it, of course, and had used it to her advantage whenever she could. It was really no surprise, that her wanted posters had been somewhat popular. Meanwhile, the quiet had returned and there was a slight echo when he asked her with faked politeness: "Would you like a refill, Miss Nami?"
"I'm good," she deadpanned. He probably knew that the medium-sized metal cup wasn't even halfway empty - although he hadn't poured a full cup, she hadn't sipped from it that often. And she wasn't going to play this oh-so-polite game of cat and mouse, anyway. Even if he was subtly telling her by offering that the worst was yet to come. How much worse could it get than the entire village of Cocoyashi joining up to hold a funeral service for a pirate crew that had just been charged with assaulting three world aristocrats and holding them hostage?
"They chalked it up to you having been one of their own so no further actions were taken. You only did, what the Marine had been planning to do, anyway." he said and the woman snorted derisively.
Law didn't seem to notice or purposefully ignored it. Either way, he nonchalantly swirled the contents of his cup once. He seemed pleased with something and Nami couldn't help but wonder whether she'd somehow managed to stumble into a carefully laid trap.
"There's been another report from Cocoyashi," the Shichibukai began, adding a pause for effect. "Eight months ago."
Nami felt her fingers fidget with the cup and forced herself to still them.
"Can you imagine what it said?" her visitor asked. The mild curiosity of his voice was infuriating, as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather (which was a more serious matter to Nami than most other people, thank you very much). Also, how was she supposed to know what had happened eight months ago? Eight months ago, they had continued their travels. Eight months ago had been, when they had let the world know that the Straw Hat pirates weren't dead - or recruiting. Never once had she stopped to think of her childhood home because she had just been so glad--
And then all of a sudden, Nami could imagine it quite clearly. If they'd been stupid enough to hold a service for their supposed funeral two years ago, they would have also been stupid enough to celebrate their return. She felt the color drain from her face and hastily snatched up her cup again and drained it. The Shichibukai smirked infuriatingly.
"That's right. They celebrated your return. According to the report, celebrations lasted two full days, with your bounty posters being plastered all over the place. You'll be pleased to hear that the villagers toasted to your health and infamy. The Marine officials weren't amused. It is assumed that Cocoyashi is one of the villages that are supporting the Straw Hats and joining in your revolution."
"Revolution?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from sounding alarmed. Revolution? What revolution?
The man waved her enquiry off and threw back the last dredges of his drink. His voice was slightly throaty when he off-handedly elaborated.
"A few insignificant villages and some odd island kingdom that's always been a problem, apparently. The desert Kingdom of Arubasta seemed to be involved, too. But the ransom note for the princess proofs that this isn't the case."
Wait wait - what? Ransom? For Vivi? How did that happen? And when?!
Law picked up the flask and unscrewed the lid. "Are you sure you don't want a refill, Miss Nami?" he asked again, motioning with the flask towards her cup. Wordlessly she handed it over. This time around, he proved to be much more generous with the amber liquid although he still didn't fill the cup all the way (but with a whiskey of this quality, that would have been a crime, anyway). When they'd both taken another sip he leaned back on his elbows, obviously either very comfortable on the cold stone floor or enjoying seeing her try (and fail) to hide her agitation.
"The general consensus is, that your crew has established a base in the East Blue centered around Cocoyashi. It's quite obvious that the villagers are part of your crew. It's an interesting report," he stated, pulling a bundle of papers out of his coat and casually flipping through it, occasionally reading out to her. Despite his claim, he sounded extremely bored doing so. "Excessively scarred man called Genzo, posing as acting mayor and sheriff... presumably trained the Pirate-Hunter Zoro... Doktor Nako, possibly a fake identity... Yosaku, former member of Zoro's group posing as fisher... no... no.... where is it?"
He pretended to frown, flipping the pages over with his thumb as if he were searching for something in particular. He made quite a show of it, sitting up straighter than before and studiously going through the pages of the report. For all purposes, Trafalgar Law appeared to be completely engrossed in his search for that one page he apparently wanted to show her so badly. Nami wasn't fooled, however. His eyes weren't on the report in his hands, they were fixed to hers. As if he was committing every impulse to close her eyes, every twitch betraying her wish to just look away, to memory. She felt dread rise from the pit of her stomach, the longer he noisily flipped through the pages.
'Please not Nojiko, please not Nojiko,' she mentally chanted.
Something fell out of the flipped over pages of the report and Nami recognised it as a photo that must have been loosely pinned to one of the pages with the paper clip still attached to it. The Shichibukai halted his search with an expression of mock-surprise and slowly - too slowly for genuine surprise - reached for it. He flipped the picture over and Nami gritted her teeth.
There was nothing coincidental about the fact that Nojiko's likeness was staring at her from the stone floor. In fact, Law wasn't even trying to deceive her into believing this move hadn't been deliberate. If he had, he would have had the decency to arrange for the picture being upside-down. Nami took offense to that.
"Ah, there she is," he muttered, just loud enough for Nami to catch the words. He flipped back to the front of the report and easily found the page he'd been looking for. "Woman posing as the owner of a mikan transplantation. Presumably guarding the crew's treasure, as indicated by the report of Captain Nezumi, 16th branch. Official records show that the transplantation was registered as property of the deceased Marine Captain Bellemere..."
"Stop it."
Her voice was soft and tense, but it pierced the quiet around them easily. They did have a quite eager audience, after all. Still, he feigned polite surprise: "Begging your pardon, Miss Nami?"
"You heard me."
The Surgeon of Death grinned. It was an unsettling expression on his face and Nami instantly took an even stronger dislike to it than to his damnable smirk because it meant he had her - and he knew it.
"What do you want?"
There. It was out. The question he'd wanted her to ask ever since he'd set foot into Impel Down. Now, it was time to start negotiations.
"I want your help, Miss Nami."
When she didn't bother to verbally respond to his claim, he leaned forward, as if to whisper conspiratorial to her.
"I know everything there is to know," he said calmly indicating the report.
There was a growl and Nami was surprised to realize that it came from her. She hated how calm and detached he was about this, how neutral and down to earth his voice sounded while she was more or less in agony. Waltzing into Impel Down like he owned it, playing tea time with her and pretending this was a social call, only to drag up something like that. More than anything at that moment, Nami wanted to know what his intentions were. A glance passed between them: contempt and contemplation. Had he pushed her far enough?
"What. Do. You. Want?" she repeated her question, carefully enuncating each word to make it clear that she was done playing games.
"Join my crew."
The statement was made without any hesitation on his part. It also left no doubt about the fact that this was neither an invitation nor a request. There was a shocked gasp, but Nami was pleased to note that this, at least, was not hers.
"Forget it."
She was just as pleased to note that her own response elicited more shock and surprise than his offer had. There was a throaty chuckle, too. It was Law's.
"You don't have much of a choice in this matter, Miss Nami." There was it again, that neutrally detached matter-of-fact tone of his. Like it was a given that she would do as he told her. But Nami felt she still had a say in that.
"Says who?" She challenged.
"Akainu and myself, among others." (-->Wer hat die Kontrolle über die Samurai?)
Her grip on the metallic cup tightened, but she refrained from responding to his claim. The dark-haired man regarded her through cool, emotionless gray eyes.
"I happen to be in need of some of your more... unique skills, Miss Nami," he continued. From any other man, these very same words would have sounded heavy with innuendo, but Trafalgar Law somehow managed to make it sound as if the mere fact that he needed her was utterly repulsive and frustrating. As if Nami herself were a regrettable inconvenience that just couldn't be helped.
'Why you...'
"And if I refuse?"
The pirate captain shrugged his shoulders and then, as if she hadn't just verbally thrown the gauntlet, he continued: "You've gone to great lengths to protect Cocoyashi, haven't you? Shame that all your work will have gone to waste in two week's time when it will be annihiliated. There will be no survivors."
He paused, as if waiting to see what effect his words would have on her. But somewhere between her last outburst and his statement, she had found her cool. Or mayhe shock had paralyzed her. Either way she showed no recognition of having understood or being bothered by this prospect.
"You could prevent this, Miss Nami. It's simple, really. Join my crew and do as I say and your precious little backwater village with all it's idiots will live. Don't and they die."
Still no reaction. Pity. He'd hoped for more of a show. The Straw Hat navigator had started out so well, too, letting him play her any which way. But the game had to end sometime, he mused.
"I see," he drawled and lazily got to his feet. "Perhaps you need a little more time to think?"
The Straw Hat navigator sat unmoving and stone-faced, completely ignoring his mockery. Trafalgar Law felt the corners of his mouth itch with the need to shift from smirk to frown. The female pirate was an expressive person that wore her heart on her sleeve. He remembered that well from their first prolonged encounter on Punk Hazard.
The Shichibukai also knew for a fact that Nami had a soft spot for children. It had been at her insistence that they'd saved the children Cesar Clown had experimented on. Her captain had agreed, despite Law himself pointing out what a liability they would be and the woman hadn't cared about the additional risk. Which made her silence even less comprehensible. There were children in Cocoyashi. There had been even a veritable baby boom on the entire island, starting a year after Arlong's tyranny was abolished. And despite no supporting evidence, he was certain that the Straw Hats had ways of communicating with their allies and friends. It was preposterous to assume anything else so why...?
Wordlessly, he held out his hand to retrieve the metal cup still clutched in the woman's hands. A flash of silver stroke past his head with astonishing accuracy and velocity. With a metallic clatter, the cup fell to the ground and laughter exploded around him. Considering that the person who had thrown it was malnourished and couldn't move her arms freely, he was duly impressed. He also felt the first stirrings of annoyance.
The captain of the Heart Pirates was being extremely generous, as it were. He wasn't required to offer her the easy, comfortable way of doing things, but he did it anyway because he did feel a modicum of respect for her captain. Admittedly, any such respect was heavily outweighed by his sheer surprise at the other's apparent insanity and naivety, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he needed Cat Burgler Nami to do as he said and she was being deliberately unhelpful. He could force her to comply to his wishes by brute force, fully aware that Fleet Admiral Sakazuki was very much in favor of this option. But for Law's plans it was better if she came half-willingly. It was bothersome enough that she didn't jump at the chance of freedom the way he had hoped she would. Was she enjoying her stay at Imple Down that much?
"That," he said, brushing off his dark coat with slow, purposeful movements, "might not have been a smart thing to do, Miss Nami." In the refound quiet of the prison, his cold words cut any remaining noise down swift and mercilessly. He tipped his hat into her general direction, not bothering to pick up the cup or the fallen picture of Nojiko.
"You deserved it," the imprisoned pirate called after the Shichibukai's retreating form, knowing beyond a doubt that he'd be back.
One.
Impel Down was as cold and bleak as ever, but even the most recent inmate of level 6 wasn't bothered by it. Not anymore, that is. She had gotten quite easily used to being chained down and behind bars, maybe because her childhood hadn't been all that different from the things she was experiencing now. The spilled food (when it wasn't laced with drugs), the insults slung into her direction, the mockery and the leers - this jail was more tangible than the one she'd known as a girl (in more ways than she cared to count), but being caught here felt the same as it had back then. The fact that she had been given an entire cell for her lonesome self - which had nothing to do with her being the only woman incarcerated on level 6 - only reinforced the feeling. She was trapped and alone.
Alright, those manacles had taken a few days getting used to, she'd admit that much.
But solitary confinement was alright with the woman. It was the way she liked it but there was no way in hell (not 'no way in Impel Down' because the jail was horrible, but a true hell, Nami knew, was even worse) she would allow anyone to become prone to this knowledge.
It was her status as the navigator of the (infamous and notorious) Straw Hat Pirates that had gotten her the cell hidden deep in Impel Down's stone-cold bowels, not her meagre bounty of 16 million belli, which was a bit of an inside-joke among the other level 6 inmates. Nami had learned to ignore their jibes about how they were letting just anyone into the high-security levels. Their mockery was less of an attempt to insult her and motivated by the need to prove themselves 'more' to the woman. Her alliance, combined with the fact that her captain was the only one to successfully break into Impel Down and leave it again, guaranteed her a special treatment. More so than her involvement in the destruction of Enie's Lobby, her captain's assault on the world aristocrats or her contribution in her crew's war against the world government.
Those were just the icing on the cake.
Another, much more prominent factor was the circumstance that the world government apparently hadn't yet decided what to do with her, or so she was told. On the one hand, Nami knew, her crimes against the government and her alliance were more than enough to warrant a death sentence. On the other hand, it was pretty obvious that she would make a great bait for her captain and nakama. The navigator was certain that her fate was closely tied to whatever plans were currently being hatched with the goal of taking out Monkey D. Luffy and his crew. There was also the fact that Impel Down really couldn't take another surprise attack courtesy of the Straw Hat. Especially if he brought his crew along for the ride and who knew how many pirates, bound to make an appearance just because the exuberant supernova was going to be there. And although her nakama hadn't so much as lifted a finger to reclaim their navigator that didn't mean they weren't going to do so in the future.
Even reinforced as it was now, the high security prison was unwilling to take any risks where the Straw Hats were concerned: who knew what inane abilities the crew's infamous Monster Trio had obtained in the meantime? No one, least of all the current prison warden, was eager to see how the reinforced security would hold up to that test. And this had everything to do with absolutely no one, not even the person who had designed the new security measures, believing that they'd do Impel Down any good against the one crew they hoped to keep out. Which was kind of ironic, considering Impel Down's purpose.
Nami assumed that this was also one of the reasons why her (obligatory) trial and sentence had not yet taken place: after the destruction of Marineford and the chaos they had wrought in the New World, officials weren't eager to rush legal proceedings against any affiliate of Monkey D. Luffy without sufficient preparations in place. Luffy had the uncanny ability to make loyal friends in the unlikeliest of places; loyal powerful friends. So instead, they kept her locked away and her fate undecided until whatever scheme they were planning could be set into motion. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. She estimated almost two. And just as she'd known it began to dawn on her captors that no one was going to come to safe her just yet. Terror turned into habit - on both sides of the bars.
The longer she remained captive, the less cautious they became, less spooked they seemed to be by her and her crew. Some of the prison guards were starting to believe that they might just get away with imprisoning a Straw Hat... Yet there was no talk about moving her to one of the lower levels. The prison warden - on principle - refused to take any risks with regard to Nami.
And then there was Sadi-Chan. Or rather: there was a distinct lack of Sadi-Chan.
Impel Down didn't tread lightly for it's prisoners' sakes and Sadi-Chan was a regular visitor on Level 6. Apart from being Chief Guard, the woman was also chiefly sadistic and if Warden Hannyabal wanted someone 'interrogated', he usually let Sadi-Chan do the honors. Her methods were limited to torture, but the damage she wrought was substantial. Nami had often seen the results of such interrogations dragging itself back into its assigned cell and had drawn her own conclusions. Time alone with Sadi-Chan was not a pleasurable experience, unless you were Sadi-Chan.
Sometimes, the woman would stand in front of Nami's cell, a wistful expression on her face and her hands restlessly massaging her precious whip. The pirate refused to be openly intimidated by such gestures, though Sadi-Chan staring at her for any amount of time took her back to memories of Arlong Park and Bellemere's death. Curiously enough, Nami wasn't once 'interrogated', nor was she subjected to any form of torture other than verbal abuse. This lead her to assume that Sadi-Chan might be thinking of her in terms of a sparkling new toy she didn't get to play with. There was no point in trying to figure out why she ended up this privileged - you didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially if said gift horse meant you didn't have to get up close and personal with that whip.
Regardless, Nami was not left to her own devices, either. She received regular visits by a severe looking man with a gaunt face, wrapped into an impressive purple robe, who kept pointing out to her that her captain had forsaken her and was undeserving of her loyalty. He implored her to do the right thing just this once and tell them everything about her crew because anything she knew might help them to catch those that had abandoned her.
"Don't you want to see them brought to justice for betraying you like this?" he would ask and Nami would stare ahead with a dull expression and say nothing until he became annoyed or frustrated with her silence and left again. As long as she made sure to avoid the drugs, she'd be giving him the silent treatment for a good long time.
The gaunt man's visits would also leave her both happy and sad. Because the fact that they were still trying to weedle information out of her meant her crew was still up and about, wreaking havoc as they went. But when she was asked about the swordman's weaknesses, about how it came to be that Sogeking was no longer a part of their group, whom exactly they had stolen their pet from and what they'd done to that person and why they'd wanted the blue-nosed tanuki (she didn't bother to correct them) in the first place, what sort of relationship she had with her former captain, when they demanded she tell them how exactly Black Leg Sanji looked - then all she could do was to think of Arlong as hard as she could, of Pacifista, of slimy snails and furry rats, lest they'd see the longing and heartbreak on her face. It was strange to be homesick for a place that didn't have a fixed point in the world, but more than for Cocoyashi, Nami longed for the Sunny. She missed the feel of the planks beneath her feet, the familiar sounds of the ship plowing through the ocean while she charted its course - the insults (Zorry and Sanji), the rauceous laughter (Luffy, Usopp and Chopper), the faint twang of a violin or, more often lately, a guitar (Brook), the dull hammering somewhere below her as the Sunny was maintained and improved (Franky) and the scent of sweet flowers as soft steps passed by her desk to reach the book shelf (Robin).
That she knew for a fact that no one would come for her, that those happy days were indeed over, didn't exactly improve her mood (yet oddly strengthened her resolve). But this, too, she didn't dare tell those standing on the other side of the cold steel bars. For the sake of her captain and her crew, it was imperative that they never knew how far the Straw Hats were willing to go to see their captain crowned Pirate King. As long as she remembered that, as long as she didn't get too comfortable in their routine of polite questioning and verbal abuse, as long as she remained on her toes and tried to avoid the drugs, Nami knew that everything would go according to plan. No matter how long they would keep her imprisoned.
Thus, it was with a great amount of surprise that Nami received her newest visitor. And of course, the first one to seek her out in her nearly timeless prison had to be him of all people.
Oh, she could deal with that lazy smirk, piece of cake. She could absolutely ignore that relaxed posture - relaxed, because he didn't have to run around with heavily shackled wrists, and wasn't that unfair? - like it was old news. But that slightly mocking drawl as he addressed her so casually with "Miss Nami" - that she absolutely couldn't ignore. Out of the mouth of Trafalgar Law, even the politest mode of address sounded condesceding and rude - which was particularly true for the 'miss' he'd tacked to her name. In retaliation, she threw his title and name in his face as if it were the harshest insult she could muster without stooping so low to using foul language. Because who knew what happened if she didn't show at least modicum of courtesy? But of course, she was still entitled to clearly communicate her distaste for the man standing before her.
"Captain Trafalgar."
He inclined his head in a polite mockery of a greeting. "You look absolutely devastated, Miss Nami," he said and the way he emphasised his words let her know that Trafalgar Law didn't care if she was offended by this or not. And although she knew that he was right, that didn't make his observation any less annoying. She'd kept her hair braided and tied together with a torn off strip of clothing to prevent it from entangling hopelessly, but combing it with her fingers could do only so much. Like all level 6 inmates, she was allowed one ice cold shower per week (she was even given the luxury of a private shower by herself with only Domino standing watch as opposed to the men, who got to take their showers in groups of 15, believing this to be either a concession to her gender or another aspect of her solitary confinement) and although she'd always taken care to be thorough, the allotted time and water left a lot to be desired in terms of Nami's standards for personal hygiene. But at least Nami had made an effort.
For her own sake and comfort, not that of anyone else.
As his eyes swept over her slimmed down form, she thought the expression on her captain's rival might be disapproval. She didn't bother trying to escape his scrutiny (there was no point in it), assuming he would begin to pick up the individual short-comings of her current appearance. When he finally spoke, it was in the calm, neutral tones of a medical professional.
"I am told that you haven't been eating," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why is that?"
"Don't like the seasoning," she quipped lightly. Somewhere in the neighbouring cell, a shadowy figure chuckled.
"Too much salt?" Law enquired and Nami shook her head.
"Too many drugs," the woman replied.
A few glances were exchanged between the guards accompanying the quiet captain, whose quirked eyebrow was a mute invitation to elaborate. Nami decided to humor him.
"If it's a stew, they add maiden's whisper and-dash-or some babble juice; if it's a salad, they add red tattle berries or an oil made with them. There's always snicker gras with the rice and sweet delirium in the tea," she explained offhandedly. Law tilted his head to the side. The imprisoned woman had referred to the herbs used to drug her food by their common names rather than their scientific ones, which was to be expected. What was completely unexpected was the fact that not only could she tell him which drug was contained in which dish, but was apparently also able to avoid them somehow. He knew that any attempts to interrogate the Straw Hat navigator had been successfully thwarted by her, although the prison warden had gone to great lengths to get ensure enough truth serum-like substances were added to her meals since there was a strict order to refrain from inflicting physical torture on the woman. Not because they were worried for the Straw Hats' inevitable revenge, but because the navigator was the frailest and weakest member and most likely to not survive the ordeal. Right now, Cat Burglar Nami was alive more valuable to the world government than dead.
"How would you know?" he asked, sounding only marginally more interested in her answer than the glares being directed at his back. Briefly, Nami wondered how many of those shadowy figures held a grudge against Trafalgar Law personally and principally on account of him being either a) a pirate, b) a government sanctioned pirate and c) free to go. There was a calculating look in his cold, gray eyes and she decided to humor him one more time. Just to be safe.
"I've got a fine sense of taste. Maiden's whisper leaves a taste like sesame oil, babble juice is sour like lime. Red tattle berries are bitter and their juice turns brown if exposed to air for half an hour or longer. Snicker gras leaves a blue-greenish tint on the rice once it's cold and has a light taste of garlic. There's nothing to it, really."
She didn't mention that she used to have a high tolerance of all these drugs after Arlong had first introduced her to them (which was early and frequent after she had joined his crew). After she'd become familiar with the effects she'd begun to build a tolerance, faking the appropriate effects when necessary.
"And the sweet delirium?" he demanded. Nami made a dismissive gesture.
"They always overdose on it."
It was common knowledge that sweet delirium, in small doses, was sugary-sweet to the taste and therefore the perfect addition to any sweet drink or food. But overdosed, it left behind a distinct flavor. While this wasn't an unpleasant taste, it was immediately noticeable as it superimposed itself over any other flavor.
Knowing this it was a child's play for Nami (or anyone) to avoid ingesting too much of the drugs and slowly start to rebuild her tolerance. She'd started with snicker gras and sweet delirirum, because rice and tea were going to serve her better in the long run than the varying dishes and drug doses they contained. Impel Down did serve both with every meal - at least on level 6.
"I see," Trafalgar Law drawled, his habitual smirk tugging against the corners of his mouth. "Well, well. Full of surprises, aren't you?"
Nami offered a shrug in return to his comment. The Shichibukai gave a short, sharp gesture over his shoulder. It failed to dismiss the pair of prison guards, who remained rooted in place even as Law came to stand in front of the cell. Seemingly careless the lean man let himself drop to the floor and crossed his legs. He made a very definite gesture at a spot directly opposite of him on Nami's side of the bars. The message was clear and with a theatrical sigh, the woman retreated further into her cell before returning with a folded up, moldy blanket to sit on. Satisfied, the government sanctioned pirate reached into the inside of his coat and produced two plain metal cups and a hip flask. The two guards shifted uncomfortably.
"I wasn't aware you could just waltz into Impel Down to share drinks with the inmates," Nami said quietly as she warily watched her visitor beginning to pour out two drinks with deliberate slowness. He seemed to be awfully cheap about sharing, filling both cups to only a quarter.
"Other than Mister Straw Hat, I don't think anybody can," the other pirate conceded. "But I have made special arrangements."
"Special arrangements?" Nami echoed. The dark haired man ignored that remark and held a cup out to her.
"Now to what should we drink, Miss Nami? To freedom? To dreams? Friends? Oh... how about to loyalty?" he taunted. Nami allowed herself a few moments of silence before taking the proffered cup. A quick glance inside confirmed her assumption: the metal cup was filled only a few inches, probably no more than two fingers high, with a richly amber-colored liquid.
"To loyalty," she responded softly, slightly tilting her cup into the captain's direction in an inclination of clinking glasses with him. The man's thin lips widened momentarily into something that could be almost called a smile before raising the cool metal to his lips.
The alcohol swept down her throat, leaving tingly warmth in it's wake. Nami closed her eyes, savouring the taste. "Sweet and nutty... oranges and... smoke," she commented quietly. "This is a North Blue malt, isn't it? A Two Rivers?"
"Indeed," her visitor confirmed, appreciation colouring his voice warmer than she thought it capable. "The single malt, 14 years. You appreciate a fine whiskey, Miss Nami?"
"I appreciate anything that is fine, captain," was her prompt, saucy reply. It immediately caused some jeers from the inmates in the neighbouring cells and within moments, the surrounding cells exploded in noisy, vulgar comments. The cacophony succesfully forced his guards away from Trafalgar Law in an effort of re-establishing peace and quiet, and left them well out of ear shot. This time, he did smile. Trust the Straw Hat navigator to be on top of her game even behind bars.
"Why are you here?" It wasn't exactly a question, but he didn't mind. This wasn't exactly a social visit, either.
"To offer you a deal."
Nami snorted. "What? To trade my life against that of my captain? My crew? I'd never betray them. Oh, let me guess: it's in your best interest?"
"Barely. Mostly, it's in the best interest of people you have been trying very hard to protect."
"My crew doesn't need my protection," she snapped and it came out harsher than she had intended it to. Law showed himself unphased by her little outburst.
"Indeed." The world was drawled with enough thinly veiled menace, that it made her skin crawl. The Surgeon of Death wasn't Sadi-Chan, however. She was more spooked of his unnerving presence than of the whip-wielding prison guard and he got under her skin more easily. Maybe because Sadi's was the kind of menacing that was out and there for everyone to see, whereas Law's was the quiet kind. His face betrayed not a single emotion or flicker of thought, although she knew that the gears in his head were listlessly turning. He liked to stay ahead of things and in control, very much like herself. And the annoying thing was that right now, he was and she had no means of breaking his hold on their encounter. But she would have to make an effort, anyway.
"Then this conversation is over." Nami bit out. Stubbornly, she put the metal cup down and completely missed the flicker of triumph in her opposite's eyes. Law was a little disappointed that she'd walked right into it, but his voice lost nothing of the quiet edge that worked so well on the red-haired woman.
"Far from it. Or am I to assume you no longer care about Cocoyashi Village?"
Nami felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Shock and surprise were clearly visible in her face. This, she hadn't expected. Even less than the fact that her opposite was appearing to find great satisfaction in the shock she showed.
"It's been a while since you've been to the East Blue, hasn't it?" he began conversationally. "Why don't I bring you up to date?"
There was an odd air of serene gleefulness about him which didn't quite match his stoic personality. "You are aware that there's been an investigation of how it came to be that an entire island was occupied by a known criminal for almost a decade, aren't you?"
Nami nodded slowly. Of course there had been an investigation. When a pirate interfered with what should be the Marine's work, there was always an investigation. In the case of Arlong, Luffy's interference had been passed off as a happy coincidence. Coincidence because naturally, the Marine had been fully aware of the fishman's doings and had been merely waiting for the right moment to strike. But then Luffy had come along and had rendered all their careful planning obsolete by removing the threat with complete disregard to the safety of the innocent civilians who had suffered greatly at the hands of the Arlong Pirates.
At least, that's what the newspapers had written shortly after she had left her home island behind.
"The conflict between your crew and Arlong's was put down as a minor power struggle. The file has been re-opened twice since."
"Twice?"
"Indeed, Miss Nami. Two years ago, when your crew vanished, marine soldiers stationed near Cocoyashi reported something quite curious."
Trafalgar Law was obviously enjoying this and despite the rising feeling of dread, Nami knew she was required to play a long. With great effort, she managed to sound somewhat neutral when she finally asked: "What was that?"
"A funeral service," the Surgeon of Death replied, taking another languid sip from his cup. The woman in front of him barely tensed, he noted. "Held in the memory of yourself, your captain and your crew. The half the island was in attendance. You received full honors. Even those members of your crew that joined long after you entered the Grand Line."
Trafalgar Law paused to watch the woman guide the cup to her lips and drink. She'd been pretty when she had first been brought to Impel Down and even now, she was attractive in a too-skinny kind of way that came with her self-imposed - for lack of better word - fasting. She'd been aware of it, of course, and had used it to her advantage whenever she could. It was really no surprise, that her wanted posters had been somewhat popular. Meanwhile, the quiet had returned and there was a slight echo when he asked her with faked politeness: "Would you like a refill, Miss Nami?"
"I'm good," she deadpanned. He probably knew that the medium-sized metal cup wasn't even halfway empty - although he hadn't poured a full cup, she hadn't sipped from it that often. And she wasn't going to play this oh-so-polite game of cat and mouse, anyway. Even if he was subtly telling her by offering that the worst was yet to come. How much worse could it get than the entire village of Cocoyashi joining up to hold a funeral service for a pirate crew that had just been charged with assaulting three world aristocrats and holding them hostage?
"They chalked it up to you having been one of their own so no further actions were taken. You only did, what the Marine had been planning to do, anyway." he said and the woman snorted derisively.
Law didn't seem to notice or purposefully ignored it. Either way, he nonchalantly swirled the contents of his cup once. He seemed pleased with something and Nami couldn't help but wonder whether she'd somehow managed to stumble into a carefully laid trap.
"There's been another report from Cocoyashi," the Shichibukai began, adding a pause for effect. "Eight months ago."
Nami felt her fingers fidget with the cup and forced herself to still them.
"Can you imagine what it said?" her visitor asked. The mild curiosity of his voice was infuriating, as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather (which was a more serious matter to Nami than most other people, thank you very much). Also, how was she supposed to know what had happened eight months ago? Eight months ago, they had continued their travels. Eight months ago had been, when they had let the world know that the Straw Hat pirates weren't dead - or recruiting. Never once had she stopped to think of her childhood home because she had just been so glad--
And then all of a sudden, Nami could imagine it quite clearly. If they'd been stupid enough to hold a service for their supposed funeral two years ago, they would have also been stupid enough to celebrate their return. She felt the color drain from her face and hastily snatched up her cup again and drained it. The Shichibukai smirked infuriatingly.
"That's right. They celebrated your return. According to the report, celebrations lasted two full days, with your bounty posters being plastered all over the place. You'll be pleased to hear that the villagers toasted to your health and infamy. The Marine officials weren't amused. It is assumed that Cocoyashi is one of the villages that are supporting the Straw Hats and joining in your revolution."
"Revolution?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from sounding alarmed. Revolution? What revolution?
The man waved her enquiry off and threw back the last dredges of his drink. His voice was slightly throaty when he off-handedly elaborated.
"A few insignificant villages and some odd island kingdom that's always been a problem, apparently. The desert Kingdom of Arubasta seemed to be involved, too. But the ransom note for the princess proofs that this isn't the case."
Wait wait - what? Ransom? For Vivi? How did that happen? And when?!
Law picked up the flask and unscrewed the lid. "Are you sure you don't want a refill, Miss Nami?" he asked again, motioning with the flask towards her cup. Wordlessly she handed it over. This time around, he proved to be much more generous with the amber liquid although he still didn't fill the cup all the way (but with a whiskey of this quality, that would have been a crime, anyway). When they'd both taken another sip he leaned back on his elbows, obviously either very comfortable on the cold stone floor or enjoying seeing her try (and fail) to hide her agitation.
"The general consensus is, that your crew has established a base in the East Blue centered around Cocoyashi. It's quite obvious that the villagers are part of your crew. It's an interesting report," he stated, pulling a bundle of papers out of his coat and casually flipping through it, occasionally reading out to her. Despite his claim, he sounded extremely bored doing so. "Excessively scarred man called Genzo, posing as acting mayor and sheriff... presumably trained the Pirate-Hunter Zoro... Doktor Nako, possibly a fake identity... Yosaku, former member of Zoro's group posing as fisher... no... no.... where is it?"
He pretended to frown, flipping the pages over with his thumb as if he were searching for something in particular. He made quite a show of it, sitting up straighter than before and studiously going through the pages of the report. For all purposes, Trafalgar Law appeared to be completely engrossed in his search for that one page he apparently wanted to show her so badly. Nami wasn't fooled, however. His eyes weren't on the report in his hands, they were fixed to hers. As if he was committing every impulse to close her eyes, every twitch betraying her wish to just look away, to memory. She felt dread rise from the pit of her stomach, the longer he noisily flipped through the pages.
'Please not Nojiko, please not Nojiko,' she mentally chanted.
Something fell out of the flipped over pages of the report and Nami recognised it as a photo that must have been loosely pinned to one of the pages with the paper clip still attached to it. The Shichibukai halted his search with an expression of mock-surprise and slowly - too slowly for genuine surprise - reached for it. He flipped the picture over and Nami gritted her teeth.
There was nothing coincidental about the fact that Nojiko's likeness was staring at her from the stone floor. In fact, Law wasn't even trying to deceive her into believing this move hadn't been deliberate. If he had, he would have had the decency to arrange for the picture being upside-down. Nami took offense to that.
"Ah, there she is," he muttered, just loud enough for Nami to catch the words. He flipped back to the front of the report and easily found the page he'd been looking for. "Woman posing as the owner of a mikan transplantation. Presumably guarding the crew's treasure, as indicated by the report of Captain Nezumi, 16th branch. Official records show that the transplantation was registered as property of the deceased Marine Captain Bellemere..."
"Stop it."
Her voice was soft and tense, but it pierced the quiet around them easily. They did have a quite eager audience, after all. Still, he feigned polite surprise: "Begging your pardon, Miss Nami?"
"You heard me."
The Surgeon of Death grinned. It was an unsettling expression on his face and Nami instantly took an even stronger dislike to it than to his damnable smirk because it meant he had her - and he knew it.
"What do you want?"
There. It was out. The question he'd wanted her to ask ever since he'd set foot into Impel Down. Now, it was time to start negotiations.
"I want your help, Miss Nami."
When she didn't bother to verbally respond to his claim, he leaned forward, as if to whisper conspiratorial to her.
"I know everything there is to know," he said calmly indicating the report.
There was a growl and Nami was surprised to realize that it came from her. She hated how calm and detached he was about this, how neutral and down to earth his voice sounded while she was more or less in agony. Waltzing into Impel Down like he owned it, playing tea time with her and pretending this was a social call, only to drag up something like that. More than anything at that moment, Nami wanted to know what his intentions were. A glance passed between them: contempt and contemplation. Had he pushed her far enough?
"What. Do. You. Want?" she repeated her question, carefully enuncating each word to make it clear that she was done playing games.
"Join my crew."
The statement was made without any hesitation on his part. It also left no doubt about the fact that this was neither an invitation nor a request. There was a shocked gasp, but Nami was pleased to note that this, at least, was not hers.
"Forget it."
She was just as pleased to note that her own response elicited more shock and surprise than his offer had. There was a throaty chuckle, too. It was Law's.
"You don't have much of a choice in this matter, Miss Nami." There was it again, that neutrally detached matter-of-fact tone of his. Like it was a given that she would do as he told her. But Nami felt she still had a say in that.
"Says who?" She challenged.
"Akainu and myself, among others." (-->Wer hat die Kontrolle über die Samurai?)
Her grip on the metallic cup tightened, but she refrained from responding to his claim. The dark-haired man regarded her through cool, emotionless gray eyes.
"I happen to be in need of some of your more... unique skills, Miss Nami," he continued. From any other man, these very same words would have sounded heavy with innuendo, but Trafalgar Law somehow managed to make it sound as if the mere fact that he needed her was utterly repulsive and frustrating. As if Nami herself were a regrettable inconvenience that just couldn't be helped.
'Why you...'
"And if I refuse?"
The pirate captain shrugged his shoulders and then, as if she hadn't just verbally thrown the gauntlet, he continued: "You've gone to great lengths to protect Cocoyashi, haven't you? Shame that all your work will have gone to waste in two week's time when it will be annihiliated. There will be no survivors."
He paused, as if waiting to see what effect his words would have on her. But somewhere between her last outburst and his statement, she had found her cool. Or mayhe shock had paralyzed her. Either way she showed no recognition of having understood or being bothered by this prospect.
"You could prevent this, Miss Nami. It's simple, really. Join my crew and do as I say and your precious little backwater village with all it's idiots will live. Don't and they die."
Still no reaction. Pity. He'd hoped for more of a show. The Straw Hat navigator had started out so well, too, letting him play her any which way. But the game had to end sometime, he mused.
"I see," he drawled and lazily got to his feet. "Perhaps you need a little more time to think?"
The Straw Hat navigator sat unmoving and stone-faced, completely ignoring his mockery. Trafalgar Law felt the corners of his mouth itch with the need to shift from smirk to frown. The female pirate was an expressive person that wore her heart on her sleeve. He remembered that well from their first prolonged encounter on Punk Hazard.
The Shichibukai also knew for a fact that Nami had a soft spot for children. It had been at her insistence that they'd saved the children Cesar Clown had experimented on. Her captain had agreed, despite Law himself pointing out what a liability they would be and the woman hadn't cared about the additional risk. Which made her silence even less comprehensible. There were children in Cocoyashi. There had been even a veritable baby boom on the entire island, starting a year after Arlong's tyranny was abolished. And despite no supporting evidence, he was certain that the Straw Hats had ways of communicating with their allies and friends. It was preposterous to assume anything else so why...?
Wordlessly, he held out his hand to retrieve the metal cup still clutched in the woman's hands. A flash of silver stroke past his head with astonishing accuracy and velocity. With a metallic clatter, the cup fell to the ground and laughter exploded around him. Considering that the person who had thrown it was malnourished and couldn't move her arms freely, he was duly impressed. He also felt the first stirrings of annoyance.
The captain of the Heart Pirates was being extremely generous, as it were. He wasn't required to offer her the easy, comfortable way of doing things, but he did it anyway because he did feel a modicum of respect for her captain. Admittedly, any such respect was heavily outweighed by his sheer surprise at the other's apparent insanity and naivety, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he needed Cat Burgler Nami to do as he said and she was being deliberately unhelpful. He could force her to comply to his wishes by brute force, fully aware that Fleet Admiral Sakazuki was very much in favor of this option. But for Law's plans it was better if she came half-willingly. It was bothersome enough that she didn't jump at the chance of freedom the way he had hoped she would. Was she enjoying her stay at Imple Down that much?
"That," he said, brushing off his dark coat with slow, purposeful movements, "might not have been a smart thing to do, Miss Nami." In the refound quiet of the prison, his cold words cut any remaining noise down swift and mercilessly. He tipped his hat into her general direction, not bothering to pick up the cup or the fallen picture of Nojiko.
"You deserved it," the imprisoned pirate called after the Shichibukai's retreating form, knowing beyond a doubt that he'd be back.