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Something Worth Dying For	By : slj812000 Category: +M to R > One Piece Views: 10730 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: So the question was posed in the comments on whether or not I write these characters as they appear in the manga, or if I am human-izing all of them. Well, I truthfully didn't decide until very deep into this story on which way I pictured them myself. I always waviered back and forth between traditional and humanized. I originally wanted readers to chose on their own how to see them, but ultimately, where I am taking this story, it works out better for the characters to be all humanized. So there's my answer.
Chapter Eleven: Nami
“Then I went home and got some money and then I came here,” Luffy summed up lazily, yawning.
Nami stared at Luffy. She wasn’t sure if she was more awed or horrified by his story. Probably awed. Luffy seemed to have the most unbelievable luck. He, and the other boys for that matter, had managed to do the impossible: convince Dracule Mihawk to leave them alive. He should be pushing daisies at that moment, not sitting on her bed.
Yet here he was.
Nami shook her head in disbelief. Of course he was here. Because Luffy did insane things on a daily basis, including coming to see her.
Luffy was slowly blinking his eyes as he sat on the bed, leaning against the wall. After having such an early day herself, Nami understood exactly how he was feeling. She glanced at the clock to see that it was nearly half past one in the morning.
It figured he would be tired. She had no idea what time he had woken up, since today—or rather, yesterday at this point—had been the first day of summer vacations, but he’d said it was early. He looked over at her and shuffled in the bed slightly, trying to sit up straighter.
“So yeah. That’s what happened,” Luffy summed up again. He stretched his arms over his head and smiled at her. She realized that as tired as he was, he was trying to stay awake as to spend more time with her. Her eyes stung at the thought.
“I’m glad you guys are alright,” she admitted truthfully. “You were very lucky. You could have been killed.”
“You say that a lot,” Luffy accused jovially. Nami frowned.
“Because it’s true!” she snapped, smacking his arm. “You’re always getting yourself into fights where you could die! It’s not sane!”
Luffy laughed at her proclamation. “It’s fun!”
It was a ridiculous response to her accusation, but really, what had she expected from Luffy?
“You should probably be heading home,” she told him, watching him try to suppress another yawn. “I doubt your grandfather would be approving of you being out in all ours of the morning.”
“But the ugly said I could stay until four,” Luffy protested.”I’ve got time left. We can still do something. What do you want to do?”
But as he said the words, his eyes drooped. He was fighting a losing battle, though adamant to stay with her. Nami sighed and lied down.
“Come on,” she huffed, pulling on his arm until he lost his balance and had to lie down with her. He squirmed awkwardly for a few moments before finding a comfortable spot on his side braced on his arm. Nami shoved a pillow beneath his head and forced him to lie down all the way. She rested her head on his chest for good measure to keep him down.
“This is boring,” he complained, trying to bite back a yawn.
“You asked me what I wanted to do,” she explained. “I want to sleep. So shut up.”
He groaned but did as he was told. He was asleep in minutes. Nami didn’t mean to fall asleep too, but the next thing she knew, there was a loud knock at her door and a gruff voice telling them that time was up. Groggily sitting up, Nami glanced down at Luffy and panicked.
He was about to leave! And being oblivious as he was, Luffy would probably let it spill the second he got home that he’d been with her. She had to instill some sort of guard against that in Luffy, and she only had a few minutes to do it before a Fish would come get him to throw him out.
“Luffy, get up,” she urged, waking the boy. He groaned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “The night’s over. You have to go home now.”
He groaned again, but at least looked at her somewhat consciously now. It would do her no good to tell him this if he was half asleep.
“Look, Luffy,” she began, “I don’t want everyone knowing where I work, so you have to keep this to yourself. It’s a secret.”
Luffy was definitely not a morning person. He gave her a sour look as he stretched and cracked his back.
“You can’t tell anyone where I am, or how you found me,” she instructed. “It’s important. If you do, you won’t be able to see me anymore.”
He stopped stretching and regarded her, as if for the first time taking her words seriously.
“Why?” he asked.
“The work I do is secret,” she told him. “Like your grandpa’s.”
“Gramps?” Luffy repeated.
“Yes,” she nodded. “You can’t tell my secret. If you do, you’ll ruin all my hard work, and I’ll never see you again.”
Luffy huffed in agitation.
“Not even Zoro?” Luffy asked.
“Especially not Zoro,” Nami replied, already able to imagine Zoro’s I-knew-that-woman-was-bad-news look. “You can tell absolutely nobody. Don’t say even one word about me. Do you understand?”
Luffy was giving her a calculating look. It was weird. She’d never seen him concentrate on something so fiercely except when he was contemplating his dinner options.
“If I keep your secret,” he hedged, “can I come see you again?”
Deep down, Nami wanted nothing more than to see Luffy every night, rather than the shitheads she had to deal with on a daily basis. But there was no way that was going to happen. The kid would have to pay two hundred thousand berries every night to see her, and there was no way he’d have that kind of money lying around—
“Yes!” Nami exclaimed loudly, startling Luffy. Nami got up from her bed and went to the chest of drawers, digging through it until she found her book bag. In one of the pockets, she dug out a key.
“Take this key to Conomi Station,” she instructed quickly, knowing she was short on time. “Go to box 1981. Take the bag out of it and take it home. Hide it in your room somewhere that no one else will find it.”
Luffy took the offered key, looking confused. “Then I can see you?”
Nami nodded her head vigorously. “There’s money in that bag. It’s my money. You can use it to pay to see me any night you want.”
Luffy looked elated at the prospect. “Any night?”
“Every night, if you want,” she offered. He grinned widely.
“Coromi Station,” he repeated.
“Conomi,” Nami corrected. She knew she was fighting a losing battle, though, and dug through her bag again until she found a pen. She took his arm and wrote Conomi Station, Box 1981 on it just as Chew slammed the door open.
“Time to go, lover boy,” Chew proclaimed. He grabbed Luffy’s arm and towed him out of the room. Nami stood at her doorway, watching Luffy go. He threw her a wave and a grin before disappearing towards the elevator.
.o0o.
Nami was glad she caught a few hours of sleep with Luffy, because it was another short night.
Just a scant five hours after going back to sleep, Kuroobi this time barged into her room to rouse her and drag her out of bed. He told her the robe would be fine today; they weren’t leaving Arlong Park. Nami rolled out of bed and followed Kuroobi back towards the elevators and then down a different hallway where Arlong had told her that the aestheticians were. They passed by several closed doors before Kuroobi pointed to an open one near the end of the hall.
Upon entering, Nami felt a wave of uneasiness wash over her. There was a skinny bed in the middle of the room, but it was not used for sleeping. No, she knew what those stirrups sticking out on one end of the bed were. This was a make-shift gynecologist office.
Nope. Nope. Not happening. No way.
Nami turned around to try to duck around Kuroobi and run back to her room, but the fucker slammed the door in her face and locked it before she had the chance to make her escape. The son of a bitch. She hated him. Absolutely loathed him. He was right up there with Arlong. Pretty close to neck-and-neck with him on her list of who she most wanted to see with a bullet in their skull.
Nami sighed and turned to face the room again. There were other things in this room, and most surprisingly, a toilet. Nami didn’t want to think about why that was necessary in a room like this. Instead, she looked at the other accoutrements like the stool and the counter and sink. There were even a couple cabinets, but Nami didn’t find anything useful to her. Just cotton balls and long Q-tips and some gauze. The most useful thing she found was a box of rubber gloves on the counter. She wanted to scavenge some of those to use when she had to change her sheets after a particularly sperm-heavy customer. Twice now, she had dealt with someone who ejaculated waaaay more than the average guy.
Yeah, the customers had to use condoms when they fucked her, but when she blew them, they could cum on her all they liked. And some did it more profusely than others. The excess semen had to go somewhere, and usually, it was onto her sheets.
Just as she was reaching for the gloves, the door opened. Into the room came Arlong, looking as much like a bastard as he usually did, and another less thug-ish looking man in a white lab jacket carrying a black bag. Nami stared at him for half a moment before realizing that she recognized the man.
This was the doctor from the Flevance Clinic. Her eyes widened in panic for a second before she realized there was nothing to panic about. This man was obviously on Arlong’s payroll, too. He wouldn’t share her whereabouts to anyone, even if he did remember her. After all, it had been a couple weeks since she’d seen him, and he probably saw a lot of patients at his job. She probably wasn’t all that memorable.
“Up on the bed, my dear,” Arlong instructed, regaining her attention. The uneasiness returned. Nami unenthusiastically climbed onto the bed, which was covered in crackly white paper and waited to be instructed further. The man from the Clinic dragged the stool over to the bed and sat on it, at the end where the stirrups were.
“So, what are our goals today?” the man asked, rummaging around in his black bag. Nami was confused. She had a fair idea of what this room was used for, but why she had to be subjected to a gynecological visit was a mystery to her.
“She’s going to be one of our top earners,” Arlong answered. “I can’t have her inhibited by bleeding for five to seven days. Only a select few of our customers are into that, so I want the menstrual cycle gone.”
Oh. That. Of course. Gotta keep the bottom line in mind.
Nami rolled her eyes. Of course Arlong wouldn’t want her to be on her period and not able to work. Never mind that her period typically only lasted like three or four days. She wasn’t about to volunteer any information like that to him. Unfortunately, the doctor asked for those details anyway.
“When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?” the man asked, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves.
“Four weeks ago Sunday,” Nami answered with a sigh. It appeared that Arlong was going to stay throughout the whole ordeal, too. It was even more mortifying than parading around in lingerie for him.
“Were you sexually active before you came here?” the man asked, producing a notebook and pen from one of the pockets of his lab jacket.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Have any of your previous sexual relationships been without the use of some sort of contraception or STD protection?” he asked next.
“No,” she answered dully. She watched as he scrawled on his notepad.
“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” she told him. “Only ever had sex with condoms.”
The man wrote more notes before turning to Arlong.
“Condoms aren’t all that great in terms of contraception,” he told the yakuza head. “Most people don’t use them correctly and therefore the effectiveness is actually only about eighty-five percent. I suggest we do a quick pregnancy test before I move on to the pap smear.”
Nami paled. Now she knew what the toilet was for.
Sure enough, the doctor that was on the payroll of the yakuza produced a small, sterilized plastic cup from his bag and handed it to her. Nami’s mood fell as mortification skyrocketed, and she slipped off the bed and went over to the toilet.
Ugh. It was so fucked up to have two people watch her while peed in the cup. She was still trying to stave off the shivers of revulsion as she climbed back on the bed. The doctor went over to the counter and began distributing her urine into different Petrie dishes. She watched his back, wondering what the price was for buying his services. With most people, it wasn’t very high.
Some men wanted to be a part of Fishman Village for the clout it gave them in the underworld. Some men just wanted to have a hand in dirty dealings, getting some sort of sick physical pleasure from doing something illegal. There were a few people like herself, who let themselves be used in order to protect something precious to them. Nami doubted that such a situation applied to this man, though. Probably, he was doing no more than paying for protection from Arlong’s men with his chosen career path. After all, Flevance Clinic was in the territory of Fishman Village and Arlong’s men were just as much of thugs as the Don Krieg’s had been.
“Well, she’s not pregnant, nor does she have a yeast or bladder infection,” the doctor spoke up, looking at Arlong again. “I’ll have to take some blood samples to run in addition to the pap smear if you want to know about any STDs. But at this moment, if all you’re looking for is the suspension of her period, she should be fine with the implant.”
The what? An implant? The fuck was that?
“Can’t we just schedule a hysterectomy, Water?” Arlong asked. Nami’s fingers clenched down hard on the edges of the table. Did he just say hysterectomy? “It’s just as effective and I don’t have to have it changed out in a couple years.”
Nami’s mind swam. They were planning to just remove her entire uterus and ovaries? No! No, that was not okay! She wasn’t okay with them taking such a drastic measure in order to ensure that she simply didn’t have a menstrual cycle. Couldn’t she just take a pill or something?
“Unfortunately, she’s too young,” the doctor, Water was the named Arlong had called him by, answered. “She’s still growing as a woman. If we perform a hysterectomy too young, we will have to give her hormonal supplements in order to keep her from going into—”
“Fine. The implant,” Arlong conceded unhappily. “At what age can we perform the hysterectomy?”
“Probably twenty-two or twenty-three,” Doctor Water told him. “Her body should be done with its growth phase by then.”
Arlong nodded in understanding while the doctor sat back down on the stool. Nami was starting to be able to control her breathing again. She’d nearly hyperventilated before the doctor had shot down the idea. For now. She was going to have to either figure a way out of this hell hole before she turned twenty-two or get used to the idea that Arlong was going to take another thing away from her: the choice to have children in the future.
“Go ahead and lie back,” Doctor Water instructed. “Set your feet in these. I’m going to do an examination.”
The shock had shaken her up quite a bit. When she put her feet into the stirrups, she still jumped when the doctor touched her labia. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on the fact that he wasn’t going to do anything down there that probably hadn’t been done to her already.
She was wrong.
Something cold and metal slipped between her labia and went up quite a ways. Then, without warning, she heard a metal cranking and the thing inside her pushed her insides apart.
What the hell?! Nami raised her head up off of the bed and attempted to look down at what the bastard doctor was doing to her. She could only see that his face was just a scant few inches from her crotch and now there was something blunt poking her insides. It felt like he’d jabbed his pen up there.
The doctor sat back and Nami watched as he retracted an abnormally long Q-tip from within her and encased it into another sterilized container. He put that one back in his black bag. Abruptly, the metal contraption slipped out of her and she barely got a glimpse of a scary looking device before it was put in the bag as well.
“Go ahead and sit up,” Doctor Water told her. Nami was already half way up, trying to peek into his bag. What other demonic devices did he have in there to use on her?
The next set of goodies he pulled out weren’t that daunting. They were just some needles and tubes for blood. He wrapped a rubber tourniquet around her upper arm and had her make a fist with her hand as he swabbed her with iodine. A sharp poke in the crease of her elbow later, he was filling three vials with her blood. Those disappeared back into the bag, too.
He released the tourniquet from her arm and then rubbed another cotton ball smelling of isopropyl alcohol over a spot on her upper arm. A new, longer, scarier needle appeared and Nami tensed up as he came at her with it. She looked away as he poked her with that needle. The sharp pain started to burn as he injected something into her upper arm. When it was over and the needle was removed, it still hurt. Kind of bad, actually.
“Be on the lookout for side effects like dizziness, hair loss and nausea,” doctor Water advised. “I’ll take out the implant if it becomes troublesome, and we’ll go for the pill method instead. Otherwise you’re good to go. I’ll send you the results of the pap smear and blood work in a couple days.”
Arlong nodded and Doctor Water left the room. Nami figured she was done, so she got off of the bed.
“Only four nights in and you’ve already had your first all-nighter,” Arlong commented as he personally escorted her back to her room. Nami held her poker face.
“He was young,” was all she ventured to comment.
“And eager, I bet,” Arlong chuckled. “His enthusiasm was entertaining. What was he like in bed?”
Nami had a harder time keeping a straight face. She mentally floundered for a moment trying to come up with an answer. She didn’t dare lie to Arlong; he seemed to know when anyone was lying to him.
“Easily distracted,” she settled on. It was true. Luffy usually had the attention span of a toddler and probably would be like that in bed.
In bed. How weird. Nami had a hard time wrapping her mind around that prospect. Luffy being sexually attracted enough to someone to have sex? It was hard to imagine.
“Sounds about right,” Arlong chuckled. “The glory of sex and all can be a bit overwhelming the first time.”
Nami prayed he’d let the subject drop. After all, they were only a few doors away from her room. Thankfully, Arlong ushered her into her room with a bid to get some sleep because she looked like shit. How so very kind of him to point that out to her. Asshole.
She didn’t manage any sleep. Her mind was too alert and horrified by the day to allow sleeping. So she just lay on her bed counting the ceiling tiles over and over until her breakfast came a few hours later.
Her shift was not the best. Right away at two o’clock, there were back to back two-hour rentals. They were repeat customers, so Nami knew a little bit of what to expect from each of them, but the additional time left her floundering a little bit. She’d worked out a little bit of a routine in the last few days.
Usually, she’d chat them up for a minute or so, since most the men who visited liked it when she talked dirty to them. Then she’d spend a couple minutes slowly stripping them of their clothes. That was usually seen as erotic. Only once or twice had she been told to hurry the fuck up. Next up was a blow job. She was sadly pretty good at it now. She would try to dwindle away at least ten minutes blowing the guy. It cut her time down by a quarter that way.
A screw usually followed. Most men were good for about seventeen to twenty minutes. That meant she was over the half-way point when they were done. She’d go back to giving them another blow job and let that last six or seven minutes, but not nearly as long as the first one. By the end of their third load being blown, most men were done and fine with leaving early, since for the most part, they left satisfied.
But two hours? The fuck was she supposed to do for two hours?
Well, the answer for the first one, was he wanted to watch her play with herself. At first, when he said it, Nami stood frozen like a deer in headlights. Play with herself? Like masturbate? She’d never done that before. Subconsciously, her mind registered the fact that she was probably going to have to fake an orgasm (something she’d thought about doing before, when a couple clients got all weird about making her cum and then frustrated when she didn’t) but she hadn’t tried yet.
Actually, the point that had her stuck was just what was she supposed to do to masturbate? She never had felt the need to before. Plus, the only time she’d ever orgasmed was with Sabo, and she hadn’t done anything there but be mortified and eaten out. He’d done all that with his mouth, and there was no way she’d do that to herself, even if her body was flexible like that.
So that left porn.
Being friends with all boys certainly didn’t have many advantages, but at least porn was one. Nami had seen plenty in her lunches with the guys and picked out images of the women touching themselves as they were fucked. She doubted any of their touching had to do with self-pleasure; it was probably just to entice the man fucking her.
With that in mind, Nami kick-started herself into gear and began caressing her breasts. She hadn’t paid too much attention to the porn, so she was just going with gestures she’d seen in passing. She hoped it was enticing. Her customer eagerly jumped in, reaching in to play with her nipples. He wasn’t all that gentle or anything so he just pinched her a lot and she tried to make sounds that might indicate that she was enjoying herself.
If she’d been watching herself, she’d have probably immediately declared ‘fake!’ but her customer was very into it. After just a couple of minutes of bad acting, he was hard and ready to go again. But that still didn’t eat up two whole hours. After a second fuck, he wanted to watch her masturbate again. She went for her breasts again, but he wasn’t as entertained. After a couple minutes, he told her to spread her legs for him and give him a real show.
It was irritating, to say the least. This fucker said he wanted to know how she got herself off but wanted to tell her how to do it. Moron. So she did as requested and went about pretty much giving herself a self-examination while trying to sound turned on by the process. It ended up much like before; her customer joined in after a while but it wasn’t as endurable as when he’d groped her breasts. His answer to a woman’s pleasure was to pinch her clitoris real hard and then rub it vigorously like he was trying to scrub a stain out of the carpet.
It was worse, too, when he decided to fuck her again and continue with his overzealous rubbing. It got painful. The muscles of her vagina locked down in reaction to the pain and something unexpected happened: her customer blew his load right away.
It was a relief, to say the least. He’d finally stopped abusing her clitoris. He was a limp body for a couple minutes before he regained his strength and insisted on another blow job. Seriously. This guy had blown his load like five times at that point, but was still going. So Nami got on her knees and went to town again.
It was obvious fairly quickly that he didn’t really want a blow job. He just wanted to get hard and then cum all over her face. It didn’t take him long either. Nami was glancing over at the clock every few minutes, hoping somehow that her time was up, but it was never ending! She still had like twenty minutes to go.
After his sixth orgasm, the customer wanted to ‘do her boobs.’ Nami had a fair idea of what he wanted to do, and it didn’t sound any more pleasant than anything else she’d done. So when she was made to lie down on her back and her customer sat on top of her, she wasn’t really surprised. The mechanics of the new sex position were problematic, though. He had to lean over her and brace himself on his arms, so that meant all his cock did was rub at the space in between her breasts.
Finally, she was made to participate. He instructed her to press her breasts together and use her breasts to give him what was essentially a hand job. Whatever. It was annoying as hell and she was ready to be done. Thankfully, that was the last thing she had to deal with. The awkwardness of the position had used up a lot of time and by the time he ejaculated (on her face again, because why not?) his session was over.
And so onto two-hour customer number two. Nami had a hard time keeping a neutral expression. Her patience quota was used up already. Still, she went to work on customer number two and immediately realized why he had asked for two hours: he was not a two-pump prick. His blow job took forever. Like almost an entire half an hour, which was extremely exhausting for her. And then, of course, he was one of those monstrous ejaculators. Even her hair was damp from the load he dropped on her.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would take forever to cum while fucking her too. And truthfully, it didn’t. What did surprise her was the amount of position changes he wanted. On her back, on her stomach, up against the wall, doggy style, back to on her back, then on her side, and so on. She lost count of how many times he stopped mid-fuck and changed positions. It took over an hour.
But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that after, he wanted to talk. He wanted her to tell him how good he was, how she’d never had a fuck like him, how he’d blown her mind, and a whole bunch of unbelievable garbage. For a half an hour.
It was the longest half an hour of her life so far. And that was saying something.
Customer number three was just a fucking cherry on top of her day, too. He was one she hadn’t seen before, but not just as a customer. He wasn’t one of Arlong’s men that she was familiar with. Honestly, there were probably a lot of people that were affiliated with Arlong that she didn’t know, but of all the men she’d seen so far, they were for the most part all familiar faces.
Nami had a feeling about this man. A bad one. He ogled her like the men before him did, but there was something in his gaze that she didn’t like. She was immediately on edge.
“Can I help you?” she asked, not sure what to say. Usually, she welcomed her customers with a dirty smile and a wink, but not this one. She was going to treat him like a rabid animal: act cautiously and do not approach.
“You can fuck me,” he answered with a chuckle. “S’what I paid for.”
“How long did you pay for?” she hedged.
“Full hour,” he replied, taking the initiative and shucking his shirt. It was then that Nami noticed an odd smell.
Yeah, most of the guys she had to fuck smelled pretty bad; like they were in severe need for a shower, but this was different. This smelled…rotten. Nami took a step back. But there was nowhere she could go, since that small step had butted her up against the bed.
“Hurry up, cunt,” he snapped. “I paid twenty thousand for you to screw me. Not for you to stare.”
Every sense in Nami’s body was screaming no. She didn’t want to do it. But she had to. If she didn’t, she’d probably be shot, or, by process of elimination, Nojiko or Bell-mère would be shot.
Reluctantly, Nami stepped forward to the man and unbuckled the belt on his pants. She unbuttoned and unzipped them too, reminding herself that she had to do it. She had no other choice. She’d inched his pants down about six inches when she stopped.
Nope.
This man had open sores around his penis. And on it, a rash. It was the source of the rotten smell. Nami let go immediately and ducked around the man. She was out of her door within seconds and halfway down the hall before the man realized he’d been ditched and started shouting at her.
She flew down the one flight of stairs and after entering her old nine digit code, threw open the door to the main floor of Arlong’s stronghold. She caught the attention of everyone in the room. It was the normal mish-mash of men, but she ignored them and stared straight at Arlong.
“I refuse.”
All was silent for a long six seconds.
“You refuse,” Arlong repeated slowly, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“I won’t do it,” Nami confirmed. “Not that man. I refuse.”
Utter silence again. Probably everyone was holding their breath. No one refused Arlong anything. Ever. They were all likely waiting to see if he would shoot her where she stood. Nami was waiting for that herself.
“Why?” Arlong asked, surprising her.
“He’s got something gross,” she answered. “A condom won’t cover it.”
Arlong stood from his desk across the room. Nami remained where she was, not bothering to back away or any other stupid movement. When Arlong reached her, he took her by the arm and brought her back over to his desk. They waited there for only a half a minute before the elevator doors opened and her customer entered the room.
“What the fuck?” he demanded furiously. “The fuck kind of bullshit is this? I didn’t pay twenty thousand for a cunt who won’t fuck and runs away at the sight of a cock.”
Either this man didn’t know who Arlong was, or he thought he was more important than he was. Either way, he shut up pretty quickly when seven men pulled guns from their jackets and turned them on him.
Arlong pulled a gun from a desk drawer and rounded the desk, pulling Nami along with him. Nami glared at the customer even though she wasn’t really sure of what was going on. She hadn’t expected to live past declaring that she wouldn’t fuck the man.
“I have a dilemma,” Arlong stated, putting Nami next to the man and walking back a few steps. “I am a business man who takes pride in providing exceptional service to the clientele that frequent my establishment. And here, one of my employees refuses to do her job.”
Arlong shot Nami a baleful look, but Nami didn’t even flinch under his gaze.
“But I also must not allow actions to occur that would jeopardize the efficiency of my business,” he went on, looking over to the customer. “That includes, having my employees suddenly put out of work because they have been infected by a careless customer. A careless customer who signed a certification stating that they were clean of all infectious diseases when they entered this establishment. Under severe penalty.”
Nami watched as the man who was formerly her customer paled. Suddenly, the story changed.
“Hey, you know what? Keep the money. I’ll be going now,” the man backpedaled nervously. When he took a step back, though, the safeties came off the guns pointed at him. The man stopped immediately.
“Going so soon?” Arlong asked. “I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, you know. Let you prove that you are in fact infection free. If that were the case, there would be no negative action taken against you. I would rid myself of an unruly employee.”
Arlong grinned maliciously at her, but Nami was unfazed. She knew that the man next to her was infected with something. And he knew it too, by the way he had turned almost green.
Arlong raised his gun and lazily pointed it at the two of them. Nami knew better than to do anything to provoke the yakuza head, but the former customer, not so much. Despite all of the guns on him, he turned and ran for the elevator. He didn’t get two steps before Arlong fired off a shot and blew off the back of his head.
Still standing somewhat close to the man when he was shot, Nami got spattered with gore. She made a face of dismay as she tried very hard not to look at the pieces of her former customer as she brushed them off of her. Abruptly, she was yanked by the arm over to the dead man.
“This is absolutely not a behavior I will tolerate,” Arlong growled at her as he used the toe of his (probably ridiculously expensive) shoe to kick the dead man from on his stomach to his back. “Refusal is grounds for death. If anyone but you had come to me, I’d have shot you where you stood. But you are a bright girl, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt this once. If this man does not have some sort of visible infection, I’ll spatter the carpet with your brains too.”
Nami stayed silent, though she wanted to tell him she’d seen the evidence for herself and had no doubt in her mind that something was wrong with that man. But Arlong was furious and doing anything but be dragged around by the arm and be yelled at would have probably just made him kill her.
“Let’s see what this scum was hiding,” Arlong stated, jerking his head at the two nearest Fish. They came over and relieved the dead man of his pants. Nami saw exactly what she’d seen in her room: open sores and a rash on his genitals. A glance out of the corner her eye showed that Arlong was still very angry. Nami didn’t even dare to breathe.
“Syphilis,” he muttered. “I want to know who this fucker is. Who he works for. I want to know every single solitary thing there is to know about this shitty corpse and I want to know by the end of today. Anyone who’s ever been affiliated with this fuck is on the black list until further notice.”
Fish moved about in a busy manner, obviously trying to placate Arlong in his furious state. Nami still hadn’t allowed herself to take a breath.
“This incident is going to force me to have to redefine how I do business with my customers,” Arlong growled as he towed her towards the elevator. As they rode up one floor, Arlong complained. “I suppose I should not be surprised that there is no honor among criminals, but I had hoped that the threat of immediate death upon finding a person in violation of their assurance of clean health contract would be sufficient to keep out disease. Now it seems I will have to check out every new customer that walks in. I know that none of my men would dare such an act.”
Nami finally allowed herself to breathe. It seems he was mad at doing a revamp on his ‘business’ rather than her.
“This will take time and severely cut into my profits,” he groused. He shot her a dark look. “You had better be prepared. You’re going to have to work like a dog to make up for my loss in profits.”
Mentally, Nami groaned. It may have been her that brought it to light, but obviously, letting clientele in that weren’t a part of Fishman Village was going to be something that had to be addressed in the future anyway. Clientele that weren’t a part of Fishman Village…did that mean Luffy would be subject to this ‘check out?’
“How are you going to check the outsiders?” Nami asked, though with much trepidation. It wasn’t wise to question Arlong when he was angry.
“What’s it to you?” Arlong returned, his feistiness growing. Yep definitely shouldn’t have questioned him.
“I was just thinking it’d be easiest to do blood tests,” she floundered, trying not to gain any more of his ire. “I mean, I’m not a doctor, but in school they taught us that almost all STDs can be detected through blood tests. And those usually have results in a day or two.”
Arlong sighed deeply. “It’s not a half bad idea. And it won’t be costly to me to just have Water do it.”
Nami had turned his irritation away from herself but had inadvertently created more work for someone else. Probably, she shouldn’t care that the doctor from the Flevance Clinic would end up with the job, but she felt a little bad. Though he served the yakuza, he probably wasn’t a bad guy to begin with. Probably just trying to cover his ass like herself.
“Take a shower,” Arlong ordered her, leaving her on the seventeenth floor. “And don’t ever pull a stunt like this again. Am I understood?”
“Very,” she assured him and scurried off to the lavatory to rinse off the brain matter that was probably still stuck to her. At least, after that hellish start to her shift, everyone else was a breeze. She felt like the next four customers breezed through. Just two blow-and-gos and two single hour customers. Easy, in comparison.
Finally, with a moment to herself, Nami sat down on her bed and realized that she needed a sheet change already. There were spare sets in her chest of drawers and she decided that she would go ahead and change them out. She was just tucking the new set around the shitty mattress when her door opened again. Nami rolled her eyes. What the hell was it this time?
Forcing a smile as she turned around, her eyes widened for a moment before a real smile broke out across her face. She kicked the soiled sheets to the corner of the room and crossed it to embrace her next customer.
It was Luffy.
.o0o.
Life had improved considerably in the last three weeks for Nami. Though she was a whore in the yakuza and had to spend her afternoons and early evenings performing sexual acts for strangers who rented her, her nights were spent in pleasant company.
Luffy had fulfilled her unspoken wish and came to see her every night. He usually showed up around eight o’clock and always paid for the whole night. Together, they would sit around and talk about the crazy antics that Luffy got into during the day with the guys, or sometimes watch movies on the handheld gaming device Luffy sometimes brought along.
No matter what they did, Nami was happy. Or at least, as happy as she could be given her current situation.
Never in her life had Nami ever thought she would meet someone who would become as important to her as Luffy. The only people she’d ever cared about before she met him were Nojiko and Bell-mère. Now, Nami couldn’t imagine her life without Luffy. There was no way that she would have been able to get through her nights without him.
Everything was going to be fine and dandy. Until the money ran out.
The thought nagged at the back of her mind, but Nami knew she could ignore it for awhile at least. With the amount of money she had accumulated, Luffy could keep buying her nights for probably a year and a half. After that, she’d think of something. Everything would be fine as long as someone didn’t come along and buy her permanently—
Nami froze in changing the sheets on her bed before Luffy arrived. Why couldn’t Luffy just buy her? That money didn’t have to be just for buying one night at a time.
Why the thought hadn’t occurred to her earlier, Nami didn’t know. What she did know was that for the last three weeks, she’d been wasting the money that could potentially buy her freedom. She was furious with herself and her slowness on the matter.
Roughly guesstimating, she thought that there was close to ninety eight million berries left in that duffle bag. If she was doing her math right. The only matter now was to get Luffy to find out how much it would cost for him to buy her permanently. It could involve explaining some things she didn’t really want to explain.
The question of how to approach the matter gnawed at her throughout the night, until quarter to four hit and she knew she had to talk to him or waste another night’s worth of money.
“Ne, Luffy,” she began, poking him in the shoulder for good measure to make sure he wasn’t falling asleep on her.
“Huh?” he replied, rolling over to face her. She could tell he was half asleep. She sat up and pulled on his arm, pulling him up too. He somewhat unwillingly obliged, groaning as he sat upright.
“I need you to do something for me tomorrow,” she told him, feeling a little dread creep in. Right now, all Luffy did when he came in was pay his usual two hundred thousand to the cashier at the reception desk and head on up to her room. No interaction with Arlong was necessary for that. But this…
“What?” Luffy prompted when she didn’t explain right away.
“I…I need you to ask my boss something,” she told him, trying to mentally steel herself. If he saw how much this bothered her, he’d probably start asking questions.
“The ugly?” Luffy responded, his head quirked to the side. “Whaddaya need to ask him?”
“Luffy, you need to pay close attention, okay?” Nami instructed, taking his face in her hands and looking into his eyes. “This is a question that only you can ask. I can’t ask it. And my boss can’t know you’re asking for me.”
Luffy blinked a couple times. “Okay.”
“I need you to ask him…” she trailed off, now unable to meet his eyes. Damn it, girl, just say it! “I need you to ask him how much it would be to buy me. Permanently.”
Luffy was silent for a long time. Probably a good thirty seconds, which in Luffy-terms, was like an eternity. Finally, Nami looked up to see what was keeping the boy so silent.
He looked confused. Utterly confused. Like someone had given him a complex math problem and told him to solve it in his head. She might have found the confounded expression cute if she had not been worrying about his silence.
“Why would I need to buy you?” he finally asked. “No one owns you.”
Okay. Silence was decidedly better than that question. Weighing her words very carefully, Nami spoke.
“I work for Arlong,” she began. “I will always work for Arlong unless someone…buys me away from him. Like a rival company. But I don’t know of a rival company that wants me. And I don’t want to work for Arlong for forever. So I want you to buy me. Then we could hang out forever. Because you would be my new boss. Doesn’t that sound great?”
Luffy still looked like he was mentally tallying a math problem. The only difference in his face was the scrutiny as he digested her words. Would he go for it?
“Why can’t you just quit?” he asked. Damn him for asking all these important questions. Why couldn’t he be oblivious as usual?
“When I signed up for this job,” Nami scrambled to answer, “I was told that there were only two ways to leave. To be bought by another company or to be…fired.”
Technically, being killed was probably the equivalent to getting fired, so it wasn’t a lie.
“Why did you sign up for a job like that?” Luffy demanded, finally no longer looking confused at the situation. Now he just looked a little annoyed and put out.
“I know, I made a dumb mistake,” Nami relented with a small laugh. “I honestly didn’t think that I’d be here this long. I thought I’d have been fired a long time ago.”
It was true. She hadn’t expected to make it to the age of fifteen, let alone sixteen.
“I guess I can ask the ugly,” Luffy relented. A thought occurred to him. “If I’m your boss, you have to do what I say, right?”
Where was he going with this?
“I guess,” she shrugged.
“Then you can hang out with the guys again,” Luffy proclaimed. “They miss you. They all complain that you’re gone. Sanji complains the most, but everyone misses you a lot.”
Nami felt a small smile creep onto her lips. It felt kind of nice to be missed so vehemently.
“Your mom and sister too,” Luffy added. “They come over all the time and complain to Gramps because you’re gone. They say it’s his fault.”
Her smile vanished at the mention of her family.
“Is it his fault?” Luffy asked, somewhat serious as he looked at her. “Is Gramps the one making you do secret work?”
“No,” Nami answered honestly, though she did want to blame the whole thing on Garp. If he was better at what he did, organizations like Arlong’s wouldn’t exist in the first place. “Your grandpa is not my boss. Arlong is. He’s the one making me do secret work.”
Reality set in with those words. Nami had to make contingency plans if Luffy did manage to buy her. She and her family could not stay in East Blue—hell, they probably would have to flee the country of One Piece. She could barter that from Garp, couldn’t she? With all the information she had on Arlong and his yakuza, Nami could find a way to get out of East Blue, even if Luffy spent every last berry Nami had earned to buy her from Arlong.
“When I’m your boss, then we can hang out for forever,” Luffy declared, echoing her words from earlier. But they were no longer true. If Luffy bought her from Arlong, Nami would have to leave everything in the East Blue behind. Including Luffy.
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Something Worth Dying For