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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six: Nami
At eight years old, you’re not supposed to know what yakuzas are, what prostitutes are, what hit men are, and what it was like to sacrifice yourself for someone else. But at eight, Nami already knew all these things. She’d always been a fast learner.
In the beginning, Nami, Nojiko and Bell-mère had lived in the country on a mikan farm. They lived there rent free while Bell-mère raised and harvested the mikans for the old husband and wife that owned the farm. Those times were all that Nami knew at first. It was pleasant enough, though on occasion, Nami got sick of having mikans for almost every meal. But all in all, it wasn’t that bad.
She was ripped from those gentle, easy-going times when the old husband suddenly died and the old wife decided to sell the farm. Being out of a job and essentially evicted from their home, Bell-mère had no choice but to move them out of the country and into the city.
Unfortunately, the only area that they could afford on Bell-mère's meager savings was a shithole apartment in the East Blue. Even at the age of eight, Nami knew that East Blue was the worst of all the Blues to live in. Now she was thrust into a school of over-privileged children who thought less of her because she was supposed to be a country bumpkin.
Well, those snot-nosed kids learned a thing or two when Nami scored first out of all of her class on exams. She didn’t manage to win any friends that way, but Nami had only had her sister Nojiko and Bell-mère back in the country, so being lonely at times was something she was familiar with. She even had started to enjoy the solitude.
But times were tough and rent berries didn’t grow on trees like mikans did. Bell-mère’s part-time job of cleaning houses wasn’t doing very much to pay the rent and put food on the table. So Nami and Nojiko had decided they would try to help as much as they could. Nojiko got a paper route and Nami began collecting cans and bottles from the gutters. Together, they helped to supplement Bell-mère’s income by about five thousand berries a week.
Bell-mère was upset that they had done such things without her knowing. She didn’t make Nojiko give up her paper route or manage to stop Nami from collecting cans and bottles, but she wouldn’t accept the berries. She told them that they needed to save it for themselves. And in the meantime, Bell-mère got thinner and thinner as she skipped meals instead of joining Nami and Nojiko to eat.
Being smart for her age, it didn’t take Nami long to realize what the real problem was.
If Bell-mère didn’t have to take care of Nojiko and herself, she’d be able to get by. It was as simple as that. Nami knew that Bell-mère had taken herself and Nojiko in when they were babies, but no one ever said the word adopted. It was clear that Bell-mère couldn’t take care of them and herself at the same time anymore so Nami decided she would make the hard decision for Bell-mère and would go away.
As smart as she was, though, Nami wasn’t sure on how to do that. Did she just pack up her clothes and walk down to the nearest orphanage and say, ‘here I am?’ Should she even take her clothes? Technically, Bell-mère had bought them for her (actually for Nojiko, and Nami had been gifted the hand-me-downs) so they weren’t hers at all.
Bell-mère caught her in the middle of packing her clothes one afternoon (Nami decided that since they wouldn’t fit anyone else in the apartment she could take them) and asked what she was doing. Nami explained that she was going to return herself to an orphanage so Bell-mère wouldn’t have to take care of her anymore and Bell-mère had a fit.
Nami had never seen Bell-mère so angry. She actually yelled at her and told her that she was acting on a stupid idea. Nami, feeling insulted at inadvertently being called stupid, responded with equal anger and mean words. She said she didn’t want to live with such a pauper anymore and that she’d be glad to get away from such awful digs since none of them were actually related.
It was the first time in her life that Nami was struck.
It was a simple slap; a reprimand for such blasphemous words, Bell-mère said. But Nami was so shocked that she ran from the house and hid at the park for a few hours. Eventually, Nojiko came looking for her and told her she should come back home before it got dark but Nami refused. She didn’t want to go back and face the overly kind woman who gave up her own meals for her and refused to let Nami help her.
So Nojiko stayed with Nami and the two of them fell asleep in the park and woke up at home in their beds in the morning. There was no question to how they’d gotten home (Bell-mère had obviously come looking for them and carried them home), but things were different from then on. Nami stopped relying on Bell-mère as much and went about looking for other ways to care for herself so she wouldn’t have to watch Bell-mère sacrifice even more.
Nojiko began using her berries to buy groceries for them. Bell-mère couldn’t complain because Nojiko was using her berries the way she wanted to. And Nami began to save her berries as she collected them as means to move them into a better apartment when she got enough. It helped, but it didn’t get rid of the problem.
.o0o.
One evening, Bell-mère sat the two of them down and told them she had something very important to talk to them about.
“I’m getting a second job,” Bell-mère announced. “I’ll be starting later this week. It will be evenings, so the two of you will be on your own after dinner. Nojiko, you’re ten now, so technically you can watch your sister, but Nami, you’re eight going on thirty-six, so I doubt there will be much trouble between the two of you.”
“Why are you getting a second job?” Nojiko asked. Nami wanted to know too, but she was still in that I’m-still-angry-about-the-slap-so-I’m-not-talking phase.
“Well, the truth is that my cleaning job isn’t going so well these days,” Bell-mère admitted. “I might lose that job soon, so just in case I’m going to pick up a second job to save berries. If the cleaning job gets better, it just means I’ll have some savings again.”
Nojiko nudged Nami to speak up about her savings but Nami remained silent. She knew there was something else going on about this job thing. Bell-mère didn’t worry like this all the time.
“And if this job goes well, I might not need the cleaning job anymore,” Bell-mère went on, gaining fake enthusiasm. By the looks of it, even Nojiko could tell something was off now. “So don’t you two worry. I’ll start tomorrow I think, but just for a few hours in the evenings. I’ll be home after you’re asleep but I’ll still be the one waking you up in the mornings, okay?”
Neither of them said anything. Nojiko nodded in understanding and Nami continued to sulk. Bell-mère had let them go then and the two of them waited until they were at school to discuss their thoughts on the matter.
“I think she’s already lost the cleaning job,” Nami told Nojiko. “She just doesn’t want us to worry.”
“You should have given her your savings,” Nojiko nagged. “It’s not much but twenty thousand berries will pay half the rent where we live.”
“And then what?” Nami asked. “She’d still have to find a different job. And like you said, it’s only half the rent. It only solves the problem for half a month. I'm working on getting us out of that shithole."

Nojiko tsked at Nami's cursing.

"What?" Nami shrugged dismissively. "Bell-mère is the one who called it that first."

"I don't like the sound of this new job," Nojiko went on. "I think she knows it's a bad idea too. She just can't do anything else because we have no berries."

"I want to move out of this city," Nami stated. "I want to move to South Blue where Bell-mère could get a better job and the kids at school wouldn't be assholes."

"I think they'd be assholes anywhere we went," Nojiko predicted. "But South Blue might be better. Even West Blue would be—"

"No," Nami interrupted. "We were abandoned in West Blue. I don't want to go back there."

Nojiko shrugged. "Anywhere would be better than here."

"That's true," Nami agreed.

"When are you gonna start talking to Bell-mère again?" Nojiko prodded. Nami frowned.

"When I feel like it," Nami replied sulkily. "It's none of your business."

"Look, the reason she got so mad was because she loves us like family," Nojiko explained for the hundredth time it seemed.

"And we’re the reason we're all starving," Nami returned for the hundredth. "Love makes you do stupid things. I don't ever want to love anyone and be that stupid."

Nojiko frowned at her. "Not wanting to love and not wanting to be loved are two different things. And you can't stop people from loving you. You can only treat them the best you can when they do love you."

Nami didn't answer because she knew Nojiko was right but didn't want to admit it out loud. But apparently Nojiko wasn't done.

"And you're treating Bell-mère pretty shittily," she added. "And she loves you to the moon."

"I'd rather she loved common sense more," Nami muttered. "I see her. Let's go."

Bell-mère collected them and they began walking home. Nami could tell that Bell-mère hadn't been to the cleaning job today. Her hair was done up all fancy and she had painted her nails; both toes and fingers. It was odd.

"I had a late lunch so you guys get to eat on your own when we get home," she told them. "I'll have a late dinner when I get back home tonight. Remember I want you two in bed by eight-thirty. No giving each other trouble just because I'm not there."

Nami was barely listening. She had noticed a car across the street from their apartment that had a suspicious looking man in it. He watched them the whole way home.

Nami spent her early evening hours pretending to do her homework but really watching the car across the street. It never moved and the man inside never took his eyes off their apartment. Finally, around eight o'clock, Bell-mère took off for the evening wearing high heeled shoes and as she headed to the train station, the man in the car finally left. He was following her.

This was not okay! Nami went clamoring to Nojiko and the two of them fretted for over five hours waiting for Bell-mère to come home. When she finally did, it was almost two in the morning and she was hopping mad about the girls still being up.

"I told you two, bed at eight-thirty!" Bell-mère complained over their yelps for attention. Finally, Nami climbed on their table and demanded her consideration.

"There was a creepy guy following you!" she exclaimed when she had it. "He watched the house all afternoon and then followed you when you left tonight."

Bell-mère was taken aback for a moment. "A creepy guy?"

"Yeah," Nami nodded. "He was creepy and smoked a cigar and had gray hair even though he looks like he's thirty. His car was navy blue and kinda dinged up a little."

Bell-mère now looked irritated. "Navy blue car with some dings, was it?"

"Don't go out at night anymore!" Nojiko pleaded. "Get a different job! Please! Don't get followed around by creeps anymore."

Bell-mère sighed. "I'm not going out at night anymore. Except maybe to school. The creepy guy you saw wasn't a bad guy. He was a cop. And he offered me a job doing work for him if I go to school and become a paralegal. I guess I just didn't realize was following me earlier. I'll have to speak to him about that."

"What kind of job is he offering?" Nami wanted to know.

"Security," Bell-mère told her. "At the firm Uncle Gen works at."

"But you have to go to school?" Nojiko asked. "For how long?"

"About two years," Bell-mére informed them. "So watch out. You two girls aren't going to be the only smarties in the house anymore."

And when she'd smiled that huge toothy smile, Nami almost believed that Bell-mère was right. The feeling lasted about a day.

Two days after their late-night social session, Nami found herself being watched again. This time it was a different creep watching, but nonetheless, he had a bad look about him and soon Nami was watching her back for unwanted visitors. She thought herself lucky when she and Nojiko weren’t approached on their way home from school on the few days that Bell- mere wasn’t able to retrieve them.

She should have known that the morons who wanted to scare her or whatever weren’t smart enough to think of that plan. Three days after Bell-mére decided to quit her new job, the creep finally approached her.

"Hey little girl," the creep spoke up from the other side of the fence at school. "Come over here for a second."

Nami knew better than that, but she was also friendless and the model student, so no one was watching her. Now was as good a time as any to find out what this creeper wanted.

"What do you want?" she asked point blank. The creepy guy smiled unkindly.

“I want you to take a message to that cunt you call your mother,” the asshole told her. Nami seethed at the insult to Bell-mére but waited for him to get it out already. “Tell her that if she don’t come back to work for The Don, we gonna mess up her good, and take you two little bitches for payment. Got it?”

Nami sighed. Yep. Bell-mére had gotten herself into a bad job again. Now they didn’t want to let her quit and were threatening herself and Nojiko now. Just who the hell was this Don guy?

“Listen, mister,” Nami laid out, “you can go to hell. My mother won’t work for you anymore. She’s got a nice security job now and doesn’t need your money. You go tell your ‘the Don’ that. And if you try to come after me or my sister, we’ll scream pedophile. Got it?”

“Why you little—”

“Teacher! There’s a scary man here who tried to touch me!” Nami screamed at the top of her lungs. Everyone on the playground looked their way. The creep looked angered and startled, but drew away instantly as the nearest teacher came running over to Nami.

Nami had hoped that would be the end of it. No such luck.

After getting in trouble with Bell-mére for even talking to the prick at school, Nami saw that she and Nojiko were still followed, and by more guys this time. All of them looked pretty rough. Nami knew that she was going to have to think of a different solution before something bad happened.

She never got the chance.

Bell-mére was at her new job for seven days before someone took a shot at her. Literally. Bell-mére’s detail was simply guarding a ritzy house for some obscenely rich people on the outskirts of East Blue. There was no need for physical confrontation; she was simply in a guard house letting people on the property if they had clearance.

Still, there was a drive-by that rained bullets at the front gate and guard house. Bell-mére had gotten away from the scary incident very luckily with only some cuts from shattered glass. But Nami knew that this was only the beginning. Things would only continue to escalate.

When library time came the next day, Nami used the school’s computer to search this ‘the Don’ person and read up on the criminal history of Don Kreig, one of the most prolific killers and mafia head of the East Blue. It left her sickened to say the least. Nami knew that Bell-mére had gotten herself into some bad shit, and by association, gotten herself and Nojiko into it too.

Nami puzzled on what to do for the next few days while Bell-mére took required time off work to recover from her minor injuries. It seemed to Nami that this would be exactly what the thugs would want; Bell-mére secluded from other people so they could attack her. So Nami pestered Bell-mére to go see her new friend Smoker on her days off to get signed up for school. Bell-mére went with little cajoling, and Nami began to wonder in the back of her mind about the relationship Bell-mére had with Smoker.

Nami read up at the library about the subject of gangs and mafias and yakuzas and how overpopulated by them East Blue was. She also read up on paying for protection from a gang. Nami had a tiny bit of money, but it probably wasn’t enough to cover the monthly cost of keeping them safe. So the only solution she had was to go to one of the gangs or yakuzas (since the Don’s mafia was out of the question) and see if she could work for them in exchange for protection.

Being only eight years old, she wasn’t too confident on her success on the matter. Still, she tried. She looked through all of the news reels to see who was the strongest of all the rival factions, and as far as she could tell, the Sawshark’s yakuza, also sometimes called the Fishmen, were currently the strongest. Or at least, strong enough to stand up to the Don’s mafia.

Once again, Nami was a little stumped. Just how did one join a specific yakuza? She really had no idea. Other than to go hang around the scary parts of town that Bell-mére always told her to stay away from. So that’s exactly what Nami did. It didn’t take long for someone to approach her.

“Hey, little girl,” the first creep of the day called. “You shouldn’t be wandering around this area alone. Someone might snatch you up and eat you.”

“I’m looking for someone,” she answered.

“Just who are you looking for?” the creep asked.

“The Sawshark,” Nami answered boldly. “I thought this was his territory.”

The creep took on a look that was a combination of humor and disbelief. “You can’t be serious, kid.”

“I am,” Nami replied. “I need to see him. I want a job.”

The creep laughed, but it was in disbelief again. “A job? You? What can you do?”

“I don’t know,” Nami answered, a little unsure of herself. “But I want one. I want to see the Sawshark.”

The guy laughed again, this time in amusement and went to go get his buddies, creeps number two and three. When they came and questioned her, she gave them all the same insistent answers. The three of them were at a loss of what to do it seemed. Finally, creep number two got on his phone and called someone. Whoever it was, they were of a higher authority than these three creeps because Nami was allowed to be taken to a downtown high rise.

It was that easy, apparently. The creep that she had been first approached by had been named Chew, and just happened to be one of three Enforcers of the Sawshark himself. The Sawshark, a sinister-looking man in a crisp suit, Nami observed, sat behind a large desk that looked to be made of metal and stared at her with interest.

“So you want to work for me?” he observed. “What makes you think that you’d be of any use to such a man?”

“I can do lots of things,” Nami told him. She had no idea what this man would make her do, but hopefully it would be something within her ability.

“Like what, for example?” the Sawshark prodded. Nami grimaced.

“What would you want me to do?” Nami returned. The Sawshark laughed.

“Let me tell you, little girl, there are only three positions in this organization,” he said, holding up three fingers. One by one, he ticked them off. “First off is an Enforcer. You met three of my best before. Chew, Kuroobi, and Hachi. They make sure that the areas that are mine stay mine, by any means necessary. Second, is a Messenger. These people make sure that new faces on my territory know who they are dealing with by means of words or fists, whichever gets the job done. And third, a blossoming area that I’m just developing, is the Mermaid. Mermaids, well, they are what you would probably know better as a whore.”

Nami sure did know what a whore was. The kids at school talked about them a lot. They talked about the fact that if you wanted to see a whore you just needed to go down to Tequila Wolf bridge and take a look at the women there. Those women sold their bodies to sex for money.

“So tell me, little girl, where can you help me in my organization?” the Sawshark posed. “I dare say that you would not make a very good Enforcer, and as for a Messenger—”

“I can be a Messenger,” Nami piped up, trying to sound confident. “I can do that.”

The Sawshark looked disbelieving. “You’re a bit of a lightweight for that area, I think.”

“I can do it,” Nami promised. “I can. I don’t draw a lot of attention and I’m good at sneaking into places people tell me I shouldn’t be and I can deliver messages.”

The Sawshark still looked doubtful. “Sneak into places…”

He looked at the large man named Kuroobi.

“She’s the right age,” Kuroobi told him, answering an unasked question. “A year or two younger, probably, but the right age to get into that school undetected, I’d wager.”

Nami had no idea what they were talking about, but she also didn’t have long to ponder.

“Very well,” the Sawshark relented. “I will consider letting you into my organization—if—you can settle a little matter for me. I need a Messenger to stop a little upstart who has been selling drugs in our territory. You deliver him the message that he either joins our organization, or he stops immediately. Do you understand?”

Nami thought about it for a moment. “And if he refuses, I’m supposed to beat him up?”

The Sawshark smiled very wide. It made him look even more sinister. “Very good. I see you’re a smart one. That’s a good thing. Yes, if you can’t convince him with words, you must convince him with fists. And if you fail, my dear, you will be the one getting the ever-living shit beat out of you.”

Nami wasn’t sure if the Sawshark meant that she would get beaten up by this so-called upstart drug dealer, or if it would be the thugs of the Sawshark’s yakuza. Probably both.

“Where do I find this kid?” Nami asked.

“Young Pearl is a student at Orangetown Elementary School,” the Sawshark relayed. “He can be seen there every afternoon hustling the kids in his school with drugs.”

Nami nodded in understanding. She turned to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing, my dear,” the Sawshark spoke up. Nami bristled at the term of endearment but held her tongue. She turned back to face the yakuza boss. “You have three days to do it. Starting today.”

Nami’s eyes popped wide for a moment. Holy shit. She couldn’t waste any time at all then. She nodded again.

“Got it,” Nami assured him, and then went to the elevator to leave.

.o0o.

Nami didn’t care to lie, so when she told Bell-mére that she wanted to go to Orangetown Elementary because she needed to see someone, it wasn’t a lie. Bell-mére just assumed that Nami was going there to meet a friend. Far from it.
Nami knew this wasn’t going to end well. She had been in a few scuffles with the kids at her school over the last few months, but nothing serious. Nami had never raised her hand to them either. It was always the kids wanting to confront her. But now Nami had to pull on the big girl pants and do what needed to be done to keep herself and Bell-mére and Nojiko safe.
Nami only had to ask one kid where she could find Pearl. The boy, who was about a year older than her, looked at her as if she were crazy and pointed her to where the school kept their dumpsters. Great.
Wrinkling her nose at the smell as she approached, Nami observed a boy that was at least two, probably three years older than her. Yep. She was really going to get her ass kicked. But she couldn’t rescind on the job so she walked over to the boy who was observing her with equal scrutiny.
“What you want, brat?” he snapped.
“To deliver a message,” Nami told him. “You’re in the territory of the Sawshark. You join his crew or you stop selling in his area. Got—”
She never got the chance to finish her sentence before she was cracked square in the jaw. The boy was pretty quick and unfortunately pretty strong. He punched her in the stomach too before she could recover from the first punch.
“You stupid little bitch,” he mocked. “You think I care that some little brat tells me to stop? Is that all the Fishmen have? Little brats? Well fuck that. I’ll keep selling as long as I please and where I please. You go tell your little boss that, bitch.”
Nami was gaining fury with the pain of the hits she took. She got up onto her knees and launched herself at him, tackling him through the mid-section. He fell onto his butt, but wasn’t as incapacitated as Nami hoped as he elbowed her in the face. She felt blood falling from her nose now. She wasn’t too happy with that thought but what she had pulled out of the boy’s back pocket without him noticing was quite appealing. She quickly rolled off of him and onto her stomach, hiding her hands. Quickly, she stuffed the wad of money down her pants.
“Quit it, you little fucker, or I’ll really mess you up,” he threatened. “I ain’t got no patience for little brats who don’t know their place.”

Nami felt far from done, but she was huffing for air and he was just a little inconvenienced. She had to rethink her strategy. She got up from the ground and pinched her nose while she thought. There was one idea that might work, but it might also get her in trouble with the yakuza.
‘Oh well,’ she thought. ‘I’m gonna be in trouble now as it is.’
She gave the bigger boy a level look. “Just let me say what I was supposed to say and I’ll go, okay?”
Pearl rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Fine. Whatever. As long as you leave afterwards.”
“Just what I was saying before,” Nami reiterated. “Stop selling in the Sawshark’s territory or join his gang. That’s all.”
“Or what?” the kid asked. “He’ll send out more babies like you to hassle me?”
“Or I’ll be forced to make you stop,” she told him, shrugging. He laughed overenthusiastically at her.
“Like you could,” he mocked. “You don’t even know how to fight.”
“I’ll learn,” she supposed, shrugging. “This is your only warning, by the way.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Pearl sneered. “The Don’s Mafia is taking care of me. So move on little fish filet.”
Nami was so angry with that kid that she no longer worried about any consequences that may arise from doing what she was about to do. She left the school and the punk behind and walked straight home to Bell-mére.
Bell-mére was back on her security shift but was home from work by the time Nami got there. She took one look at Nami’s bloody face and demanded to know what happened. Once again, Nami didn’t lie.
“When I was at the school, there was a boy there selling drugs,” Nami told her. “I told him to stop and he hit me.”
Bell-mére did exactly what Nami had hoped she would do; she took her to her cop friend Smoker. Smoker, though he acted a little oddly around Bell-mére, listened to Nami’s explanations and took notes on what the boy Pearl looked like and where he could be found selling drugs.
The next day, the kid was busted with about fifty thousand berries worth of drugs on him and carted off to the local police station. Nami watched it all from afar, just to make sure it happened, before heading off to the downtown high rise where she was to go see the Sawshark. There was a little more awkwardness while the guards at the front desk fumbled with how to handle the eight year old who walked in claiming to be a Messenger and demanding to see the Sawshark, but eventually, she was let up to the sixteenth floor to see him.
“So am I to just take your word that this situation is taken care of?” the Sawshark asked when Nami declared the job a success.
“You can look in tomorrow’s paper if you want,” Nami suggested. “I bet his arrest will be there.”
“Arrest?” the Sawshark repeated. He didn’t look pleased.
“Yeah,” Nami explained quickly. “He beat me up and told me he wouldn’t quit selling or join because he was with the Don’s Mafia or something like that. I couldn’t beat him up because I’m not strong enough yet, but I made sure he couldn’t sell anymore.”
The Sawshark didn’t look as though he was anymore sated with that explanation either.
“What was your involvement with the local law enforcement?” he asked.
“I told my mother that a boy was selling drugs at school and beat me up,” Nami said. “She took me to see a cop and I said the same thing. That’s all I said too.”
The Sawshark appraised her for quite awhile. “I suppose I can let you into my organization. You’re pretty bright for such a young girl. And in time, I’m sure you’ll become quite the looker. Very well. What’s the price for your loyalty?”
Nami didn’t hesitate. “Protection for myself, mother and sister from all rival factions.”
The Sawshark raised an eyebrow at this. “Done. No other requests?”
Nami couldn’t think of any, so she shook her head. “You sure my mother and sister will be okay, Mister Sawshark?”
“My dear,” he laughed smoothly. “Call me Arlong. Just leave it to me. I always take care of things that are mine.”
Nami felt a chill go through her at that statement, and for the first time of many times to come, wondered if this had actually been a bad idea. But she was just happy that she was able to protect the ones she loved from danger.
In retrospect, she probably should have asked for more in compensation. But at that time, Nami was only eight years old and had no idea that the day would come that she would become a Mermaid.
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Something Worth Dying For