**Marine Branch 153, Goa Kingdom – East Blue**
The administrative office smelled like old paper, stale coffee, and the faint metallic tang of rust from the filing cabinets that lined every wall.
It was a windowless room on the ground floor of the main building, lit by a single long fluorescent tube that flickered every few minutes like it was having second thoughts about staying lit. Boxes were stacked in uneven towers, some leaning dangerously, others already collapsed into avalanches of yellowed forms.
At 08:15 sharp, Drill Instructor Hina opened the door just wide enough to let five recruits file in single file.
She held a clipboard like a shield.
"Welcome to your new home for the next ten hours," she said, voice calm and merciless. "Three years of backlogged requisitions, transfer requests, incident reports, and miscellaneous forms. Sort them by date, type, and department. File them correctly. No shortcuts. No stretching arms to grab things from across the room. No sleeping. No leaving until I say so."
She looked at each of them in turn.
Luffy, already eyeing a towering stack like it was a challenge.
Zoro, arms crossed, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Koby, nervously clutching a fresh notebook.
Nami, scanning the room with the calculating gaze of someone estimating escape routes.
Sanji, cigarette already lit, expression somewhere between resignation and quiet fury.
"If you finish early," Hina added, "you're free for the rest of the day. If you don't… you come back tomorrow. And the day after. Until it's done."
She closed the door.
The lock clicked.
Silence for three full seconds.
Then Luffy clapped his hands together.
"Alright! Paperwork party!"
Zoro groaned and leaned against the nearest cabinet.
"I'm gonna die here."
Nami walked to the center of the room, hands on hips.
"First things first. We need a system."
Koby raised a tentative hand.
"I can help with that! I've read the filing manual three times—"
"Perfect," Nami cut in. "You're in charge of categories. I'll handle the timeline. Luffy, you sort by department. Sanji, you do requisitions. Zoro… try not to fall asleep on the forms."
Zoro gave her a flat look.
"I'm not promising anything."
Sanji exhaled smoke toward the ceiling.
"I'll do requisitions. But if anyone touches my kitchen supply logs without asking, I'm kicking them through the wall."
Luffy bounced on his toes.
"Let's make it a game! Who can file the most without looking at the dates?"
Koby looked horrified.
"That's… that's literally against regulations—"
"Exactly!" Luffy grinned. "Makes it fun!"
Nami pinched the bridge of her nose.
"We are not turning this into a competition."
Too late.
Luffy was already grabbing a stack of folders and sorting them into three piles at impossible speed, arms stretching just enough to reach the far cabinet without moving his feet.
Sanji watched for a second, then shrugged and started his own pile.
Zoro sighed, pushed off the cabinet, and began sorting with slow, deliberate movements—like he was sharpening a blade instead of moving paper.
Koby, after a moment of internal crisis, started organizing by year.
The room filled with the soft rustle of paper, the occasional curse when someone found a particularly ancient form, and the steady tick of the wall clock that seemed to be moving backward.
At 10:30, Sanji disappeared for fifteen minutes.
When he returned, he was carrying a tray balanced on one hand: five tin mugs of black coffee, a plate of leftover onigiri wrapped in seaweed, and a small bowl of sliced apples.
He set it on the only clear table.
"Break," he said. "Drink. Eat. Don't die on me."
Luffy dove for an onigiri immediately.
"Mmmph! You're the best, Sanji!"
Sanji rolled his eyes but didn't correct him.
Nami took a careful sip of coffee, then looked at the tray.
"You smuggled this from the kitchen again."
"Borrowed," Sanji corrected. "Legally gray area."
Zoro grabbed a mug and an apple slice.
"You're gonna get us more punishment detail."
"Worth it," Sanji muttered.
They ate in relative quiet, leaning against cabinets or sitting on overturned boxes.
The fluorescent light buzzed overhead.
Koby spoke first, voice soft.
"I actually… kind of like organizing things. It feels like making order out of chaos."
Nami glanced at him.
"That's why you're good at it."
Koby blushed.
"I just want to be useful. Back home, I was always the kid who got lost in books instead of playing outside. I thought… maybe in the Marines, that could be a strength."
Luffy swallowed the last bite of onigiri.
"It is a strength! When we get a ship, we're gonna need someone who knows where everything is."
Zoro snorted around a mouthful of apple.
"You and your ship."
Luffy grinned.
"Yup."
Sanji leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.
"I used to think paperwork was the worst thing in the world. Turns out it's not so bad when you're doing it with people who don't make you want to set the room on fire."
Nami raised an eyebrow.
"High praise."
Sanji shrugged.
"Take it or leave it."
They finished the break slowly, reluctant to return to the stacks.
But they did.
The afternoon crawled.
Dust motes drifted in the stale air.
At one point Luffy accidentally created a paper tower taller than himself, balancing folders like a game of Jenga.
Zoro stared at it for a long time.
"If that falls on me, I'm cutting it."
Luffy laughed.
"Then don't let it fall!"
Around 15:00, Nami discovered an old incident report from eight years ago: a recruit had tried to ride a cannonball during a live-fire exercise.
The report included a hand-drawn sketch of the trajectory.
She passed it around.
Everyone stared.
Zoro's lips twitched.
"That guy had balls of steel."
Luffy cackled.
"Did he survive?"
Nami flipped the page.
"Barely. Dishonorable discharge. Now he sells fish in Shells Town."
They all laughed—quiet at first, then louder, the sound bouncing off the metal cabinets.
It felt like a small victory.
By 17:30 the stacks were shrinking.
The floor was clear enough to walk without stepping on paper.
Koby wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
"I think… we might actually finish."
Nami checked her tally.
"Two more boxes. If we push, we can make it."
Luffy pumped a fist.
"Let's go!"
They attacked the last boxes with renewed energy.
Zoro sorted with both hands now, no longer pretending to be bored.
Sanji worked silently, methodically, cigarette long since extinguished.
At 18:47, the last form was placed in its folder.
The last box was labeled and stacked.
The room looked… almost respectable.
They stood in the center, breathing hard, looking at the neat rows of cabinets.
Luffy flopped onto the floor on his back, arms spread.
"We did it!"
Koby sat down heavily, smiling.
"We really did."
Nami leaned against a cabinet.
"I'm never looking at paper the same way again."
Zoro stretched until his spine popped.
"I need a nap. And sake."
Sanji lit a fresh cigarette.
"I need a kitchen. And ingredients that aren't expired."
The door opened.
Hina stood there, clipboard in hand.
She surveyed the room.
The neat stacks.
The empty floor.
The five exhausted but oddly proud recruits.
She took a long drag from her cigarette.
"…Adequate."
Then she turned and left.
No further comment.
The door stayed open.
They looked at each other.
Then, slowly, they started grinning.
Luffy sat up.
"See? Even boring stuff is fun when you do it together."
Zoro snorted.
"You're never gonna stop saying that, are you?"
"Nope."
Nami pushed off the cabinet.
"Come on. Let's get out of here before she changes her mind."
They filed out into the hallway.
The evening air was cool and salted.
The harbor lights were coming on one by one, reflecting on the dark water like scattered stars.
They walked slowly toward the barracks, shoulders brushing, paint flecks still on their clothes from yesterday, dust from today clinging to their hair.
No one spoke for a while.
They didn't need to.
The day had been long.
Tedious.
Ridiculous.
And somehow—important.
Because they'd done it together.
And tomorrow, whatever it brought, they'd face it the same way.