The Going Merry cut through the waters of the East Blue with steady determination, her sails full and her crew silent. Two days had passed since they'd left the Baratie behind, two days of sailing toward the Conomi Islands with a purpose that felt heavier than any treasure they might have sought.
Gil stood at the bow, one hand resting on the railing as he watched the horizon. The sea spray misted his face, cool and sharp, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere—on a girl with orange hair and a forced smile, on the desperation he'd seen in her eyes when she'd stolen the Going Merry. On the way she'd said goodbye without really saying it at all.
She reminded me of Aria, he thought, not for the first time. That same look. Like the world had already decided what she was worth, and she was just trying to survive it.
Behind him, he could hear Usopp and Johnny talking in low voices, their usual bravado subdued. Even Luffy, who sat cross-legged on the figurehead, seemed more focused than usual. The straw-hatted captain stared ahead with an intensity that Gil had come to recognize—Luffy had made up his mind about something, and nothing would change it.
"Land ho!" Yosaku called from the crow's nest, his voice carrying across the deck. "That's Cocoyashi Village dead ahead!"
Gil turned to look. In the distance, a small island emerged from the morning mist, its coastline dotted with modest buildings and swaying palm trees. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, but Gil had learned long ago that appearances meant nothing. Some of the worst hells he'd known had looked beautiful from the outside.
Zoro emerged from below deck, his three swords at his hip as always. He moved to stand beside Gil, his single eye scanning the approaching island with the practiced assessment of a warrior.
"You're quiet," Zoro observed.
"Thinking," Gil replied.
"About the fishman?"
"About Nami." Gil glanced at the swordsman. "About what kind of situation makes someone that desperate."
Zoro was silent for a moment. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it."
It wasn't a boast or empty confidence. It was simply a statement of fact, delivered with the absolute certainty that had made Zoro the first person to join Luffy's crew. Gil found himself nodding.
"Yeah," he said. "We will."
They docked at a small pier on the outskirts of the village, the Going Merry settling into place with a gentle creak of wood. As they disembarked, Gil noticed how quiet everything was. A few villagers moved about their business, but they kept their heads down, their movements hurried and furtive. No one looked at the newcomers directly.
"Friendly place," Usopp muttered, his hand unconsciously moving toward his slingshot.
"They're scared," Sanji said, lighting a cigarette. His usual easy demeanor had hardened into something more serious. "Look at them. These people are living under someone's thumb."
Johnny and Yosaku led them into the village proper, their expressions grim. The buildings were well-maintained but sparse, and Gil noticed that many of the shops had their shutters half-closed despite it being mid-morning. The few people they passed gave them wide berths, some even crossing to the other side of the street.
"It's been like this for eight years," Johnny said quietly. "Ever since Arlong took over."
"Eight years?" Luffy's voice was flat, but Gil could hear the anger simmering beneath it.
"Yeah, bro. The whole Conomi Islands—twenty-some villages—all under Arlong's control. Every adult has to pay 100,000 berries a year, every child 50,000. If you can't pay..." Yosaku trailed off, his face darkening.
"If you can't pay, you die," a new voice finished.
They turned to find a man approaching them, middle-aged with a weathered face and a distinctive pinwheel attached to his hat. He wore the simple clothes of a village officer, but there was steel in his eyes despite the weariness that lined his features.
"Genzo," Johnny said, relief evident in his voice. "These are the pirates we told you about. Luffy's crew."
Genzo looked them over, his gaze lingering on Luffy's straw hat before moving to assess each of them in turn. When his eyes reached Gil, they paused for just a moment, as if recognizing something, before moving on.
"Pirates," Genzo said, and it wasn't quite a question. "Come to make things worse, or are you different?"
"We're here for Nami," Luffy said simply.
Something flickered across Genzo's face—surprise, hope, fear, all mixed together. "Nami sent you away. She doesn't want you here."
"Don't care," Luffy replied. "She's my navigator."
"Your navigator." Genzo's laugh was bitter. "She's Arlong's cartographer. Has been for eight years. That's the deal she made—draw maps for him until she can buy the village's freedom."
"Buy it?" Sanji's cigarette had burned down to the filter. "With what?"
"One hundred million berries," Genzo said, and the number hung in the air like a death sentence. "That's what Arlong promised. If she can bring him 100 million berries, he'll leave Cocoyashi Village alone. She's been stealing, cheating, doing whatever it takes to gather that money. She's up to 93 million now."
Gil felt something cold settle in his stomach. Ninety-three million berries. Years of work, of stealing from pirates, of putting herself in danger over and over again. All for a promise from a man who had already proven he couldn't be trusted.
"And you believe Arlong will keep his word?" Gil asked quietly.
Genzo met his eyes, and in that moment, Gil saw the truth. The village officer knew. He'd always known.
"No," Genzo said. "But what choice does she have? What choice do any of us have?"
They followed Genzo through the village, and with each step, Gil saw more evidence of Arlong's oppression. A shop with a memorial wreath on the door—someone who couldn't pay. A family huddled together, counting coins with desperate intensity. Children who should have been playing instead helping their parents work, trying to earn enough to survive another year.
"This is what eight years of Arlong's 'rule' looks like," Genzo said. "He calls it tribute. I call it slavery with extra steps."
They arrived at a modest house on the edge of the village, surrounded by a tangerine grove. The trees were heavy with fruit, their leaves rustling in the breeze, and for a moment, the scene was almost peaceful. Then Gil noticed the way Genzo's shoulders tensed as they approached, the way his hand unconsciously moved to touch the pinwheel on his hat.
"This was Bellemere's house," Genzo said quietly. "Nami's adoptive mother."
"Was?" Usopp asked, though the answer was already written on Genzo's face.
"Arlong killed her. Eight years ago, when he first came to the island."
The words fell like stones into still water, and the ripples spread through the crew. Even Luffy, who had been silent since they'd docked, seemed to still further, his expression darkening.
A woman emerged from the house, tall and lean with blue hair and a tattoo on her shoulder. She looked to be in her early twenties, and there was something familiar about her features—the shape of her eyes, the set of her jaw.
"Genzo," she said, then stopped when she saw the group behind him. Her eyes widened slightly. "You're Luffy. The one Nami's been sailing with."
"You know Nami?" Luffy asked.
"I'm her sister. Nojiko." She studied them for a moment, then sighed. "You should come inside. If you're really here for Nami, you need to understand what you're walking into."
The inside of the house was simple but well-kept, with photographs on the walls and the lingering scent of tangerines. Nojiko moved to the kitchen, putting on water for tea with practiced motions, while the crew settled around the small living area. Gil found himself looking at the photographs—a woman with purple hair and a bright smile, two young girls laughing in a tangerine grove, a family that had once been whole.
"Bellemere found us after the war," Nojiko began, her voice steady but distant, as if she were reciting a story she'd told herself a thousand times. "Nami and I were just babies, orphaned by the fighting. Bellemere was a Marine then, wounded and left for dead. She heard us crying in the ruins and... she chose us. Chose to live, chose to raise us, even though she had nothing."
She poured the tea, her hands steady despite the weight of the memories.
"She left the Marines, came here to Cocoyashi Village, and raised us on her own. We were poor—so poor that sometimes Bellemere would skip meals so Nami and I could eat. But we were happy. We were a family."
"What happened?" Sanji asked gently.
Nojiko's hands tightened around her cup. "Eight years ago, Arlong came. He declared himself ruler of the Conomi Islands and demanded tribute from every village. 100,000 berries per adult, 50,000 per child. Bellemere... we only had 100,000 berries to our name. Enough to save either herself or both of us, but not all three."
Gil closed his eyes. He knew where this was going, could see the shape of the tragedy before Nojiko even spoke the words.
"She chose us," Nojiko continued, her voice cracking slightly. "She declared us as her daughters, paid for our lives with all the money we had. And Arlong..." She stopped, swallowing hard. "Arlong shot her. Right in front of us. Right in front of the whole village. To make an example."
The silence that followed was absolute. Gil opened his eyes to find Luffy's fists clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white. Zoro's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his jaw set. Even Usopp, who usually filled silences with nervous chatter, sat frozen.
"Nami was only ten years old," Nojiko said. "She watched our mother die, and then Arlong... he saw her maps. The drawings she'd made of the island. He said she had talent, that she could be useful to him. So he made her a deal—work for him as his cartographer, and when she'd earned 100 million berries, he'd free the village."
"And she believed him?" Usopp asked.
"She was ten," Nojiko replied, and there was a fierce protectiveness in her voice. "She was a child who'd just watched her mother die, and he offered her a way to save everyone else. What was she supposed to do?"
Gil understood. God, did he understand. He'd been older than Nami when he'd made his own desperate bargains, but the principle was the same. When you were drowning, you grabbed onto anything that looked like it might float, even if you knew it was probably just another stone to drag you down.
"For eight years, she's been working for him," Nojiko continued. "Stealing from pirates, saving every berry she can. She's up to 93 million now. Just seven million more, and she thinks she'll be free. She thinks we'll all be free."
"But you don't believe that," Gil said quietly.
Nojiko met his eyes, and he saw the same knowledge there that he'd seen in Genzo's. "Arlong is a monster. He's not going to let his best cartographer go, and he's not going to give up his hold on these islands. But Nami... she has to believe. It's the only thing keeping her going."
"Where is she now?" Luffy asked.
"Arlong Park," Genzo answered. "His base of operations, on the other side of the island. It's a fortress—walls, guards, the whole works. And inside, Arlong has his crew. All fishmen, all stronger than any human. They can breathe underwater, they're ten times stronger than us on land, and they've been terrorizing these islands for eight years without anyone being able to stop them."
"We'll stop them," Luffy said, and there was no doubt in his voice.
"You don't understand," Genzo said, frustration bleeding into his tone. "We've tried. Other pirates have tried. The Marines won't come—Arlong has them paid off. Everyone who's stood against him has died. What makes you think you'll be any different?"
"Because we're Nami's crew," Luffy replied simply. "And nobody makes my navigator cry."
They left the house as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. Nojiko walked with them to the edge of the tangerine grove, her arms crossed against the evening breeze.
"There's something else you should know," she said. "Nami has a tattoo on her shoulder. Arlong's mark. He branded her with it when she joined his crew, to show that she belonged to him. She hates it. Hates what it represents. But she wears it anyway, because that's the price she has to pay."
Gil thought of the tattoos he'd seen on Nami's shoulder, the way she'd sometimes touch them unconsciously. He'd thought they were just decorative, but now he understood. They were a chain, visible for everyone to see.
"She's been alone for so long," Nojiko said quietly. "Pushing everyone away, pretending she doesn't care, because caring hurts too much. If you're really her crew, if you really want to help her... don't give up on her. Even when she tells you to leave. Especially then."
"We won't," Luffy promised.
As they walked back through the village, Gil found himself processing everything they'd learned. Eight years of slavery. A mother murdered in front of her children. A ten-year-old girl forced to work for her mother's killer, clinging to a promise that everyone knew was a lie. And through it all, Nami had kept going, kept stealing and fighting and surviving, because the alternative was to let everyone she loved suffer.
Just like Aria, he thought. Doing whatever it took to protect the people she cared about, even if it destroyed her in the process.
They passed through the village square, where a memorial stone stood with names carved into its surface. Gil stopped to read them—dozens of names, maybe more. All people who had died because they couldn't pay Arlong's tribute, or because they'd tried to resist.
"Gil," Zoro called. "You coming?"
Gil tore his eyes away from the memorial. "Yeah. I'm coming."
As evening fell, they made camp on the outskirts of the village, not wanting to draw Arlong's attention before they were ready. Johnny and Yosaku had gone to scout Arlong Park, while the rest of the crew gathered around a small fire, each lost in their own thoughts.
Gil sat slightly apart from the others, his hand resting on the hilt of one of his swords. He'd been counting his weapons earlier—fifteen F-rank blades, five D-rank. Not much against an entire crew of fishmen, but it would have to be enough. He'd faced worse odds before.
No, he corrected himself. I've faced different odds. This is new territory.
"You're thinking too hard," Zoro said, settling down beside him. "I can hear it from here."
"Just running scenarios," Gil replied.
"Don't. Scenarios are useless. When the fighting starts, you adapt or you die. That's all there is to it."
Gil glanced at the swordsman. "You're not worried?"
"About the fight? No. About Nami..." Zoro paused, his expression thoughtful. "She's been carrying this alone for eight years. That's a long time to be strong. People break under less."
"She hasn't broken yet."
"No. But she's close. I could see it back at the Baratie, in the way she looked at us. Like she wanted to ask for help but didn't know how." Zoro's hand moved to rest on his swords. "That's why we're here. Not because Luffy ordered it, but because she's crew. And crew doesn't leave crew behind."
Across the fire, Luffy sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring into the flames. He hadn't said much since they'd left Nojiko's house, but Gil could see the anger simmering beneath his usual carefree exterior. Luffy didn't get angry often, but when he did, it was absolute.
"Luffy," Sanji called, offering the captain a plate of food. "You should eat."
"Not hungry," Luffy replied, which was so unusual that everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him.
"Captain," Sanji said carefully. "You need to keep your strength up."
"I said I'm not hungry." Luffy's voice was flat, final. "Not until we get Nami back."
Usopp shifted uncomfortably. "Luffy, we will get her back. We just need a plan. Arlong Park is supposed to be heavily fortified, and fishmen are really strong, and—"
"I don't care how strong they are," Luffy interrupted. "They made Nami cry. They killed her mother. They've been hurting her for eight years." He looked up, and his eyes were hard as stone. "I'm going to kick Arlong's ass."
It wasn't a boast or a threat. It was a promise, delivered with the same absolute certainty that Luffy brought to everything he did. And looking at his captain, Gil felt something settle in his chest—a sense of rightness, of purpose.
This was why he'd joined this crew. Not for adventure or treasure, but for moments like this. For the chance to stand against injustice, to fight for someone who couldn't fight for themselves. To be part of something that mattered.
"We all will," Gil said quietly. "Together."
Zoro nodded. "Together."
"Together," Sanji agreed, lighting a fresh cigarette.
"T-together," Usopp stammered, trying to sound brave and almost succeeding.
Luffy looked at each of them in turn, and slowly, his expression softened. Not into a smile—this was too serious for that—but into something like gratitude.
"Thanks," he said simply.
Johnny and Yosaku returned as the moon rose, their faces grim.
"Arlong Park is about two miles north," Johnny reported. "Big compound, walls about twenty feet high. We counted at least fifteen fishmen on patrol, probably more inside."
"And Nami?" Luffy asked.
"We saw her," Yosaku said. "She was in one of the buildings, working on maps. She looked..." He trailed off, struggling for words.
"Tired," Johnny finished. "She looked really tired, bro."
Gil could imagine it. Eight years of working for your mother's killer, of pretending to be something you weren't, of carrying the weight of an entire village on your shoulders. Of course she was tired. The real question was how she'd managed to keep going this long.
"We go tomorrow," Luffy decided. "At dawn."
"Shouldn't we scout more?" Usopp asked. "Maybe come up with a strategy?"
"The strategy is simple," Zoro said, his hand on his swords. "We go in, we fight, we win."
"That's not a strategy, that's suicide!"
"It's worked so far," Sanji pointed out.
"That's not reassuring!"
Gil listened to them bicker, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the gravity of the situation. This crew was insane, reckless, and completely unprepared for what they were about to face. They were also loyal, determined, and absolutely unwilling to abandon one of their own.
Aria would have liked them, he thought. She would have fit right in.
The thought brought the familiar ache, but it was softer now, less sharp. Aria was gone, but her memory didn't have to be a weight dragging him down. It could be a reminder of why he fought, of what he was fighting for.
"Gil," Luffy called. "You ready?"
Gil looked at his captain, at the determination in those eyes, and nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."
"Good." Luffy stood, stretching his arms above his head. "Then let's get some sleep. Tomorrow, we're getting our navigator back."
Gil lay awake long after the others had fallen asleep, staring up at the stars. Somewhere out there, Nami was probably awake too, working on maps for a man she hated, counting the berries that would supposedly buy her freedom. Did she know they were here? Did she hope they'd come, or did she fear what would happen if they did?
He thought about what Nojiko had said—that Nami had been alone for eight years, pushing everyone away because caring hurt too much. He understood that impulse. After Aria died, he'd done the same thing, built walls around himself to keep the pain at bay. It had taken Luffy's stubborn refusal to accept those walls to break through them.
Maybe that's what Nami needs too, he thought. Someone too stubborn to give up on her.
Well, she'd certainly found that in Luffy. The straw-hatted captain didn't know how to give up, didn't understand the concept of impossible. If Luffy said they were getting Nami back, then they were getting Nami back. It was that simple.
Gil's hand moved to his swords, feeling the familiar weight of them. Fifteen F-rank blades, five D-rank. Not much, but he'd make them count. He'd fought with less before, survived with less. And this time, he wasn't fighting alone.
In the distance, he could just make out the silhouette of Arlong Park against the night sky, dark and imposing. Tomorrow, they would storm those walls. Tomorrow, they would face an enemy that had terrorized these islands for eight years. Tomorrow, they would fight for a girl who had been forced to be strong for far too long.
Hold on, Nami, Gil thought. We're coming.
The stars wheeled overhead, indifferent to the struggles of humans and fishmen alike. But Gil had learned long ago that the universe didn't care about justice or fairness. If you wanted those things, you had to fight for them yourself.
And tomorrow, that's exactly what they would do.
As sleep finally claimed him, Gil's last thought was of orange hair and desperate eyes, of a girl who had been carrying the weight of the world alone for eight years. Tomorrow, she wouldn't have to carry it anymore.
Tomorrow, she would have a crew.