A Pirate's Life for Me

The Curry Iron Chef

Things had gone a bit smoother since that night- at least in sailing. The weather although having its moments was rather manageable, and disputes amongst the crew were often light and somewhat humorous. Zoro however remained evasive as ever. It didn't help that I couldn't hold much eye contact either without flustering a deep red and feeling my body soak itself in the embarrassment of my actions. Despite the distance in our behavior the second in command never kept his physical distance. He was often quick to my defense, and always loomed nearby. At least he didn't hate me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way to the deck to join the rest of the crew.

As the door made way for me all I could see was...white. I paused and took a deep breath. They were all out there yet, I couldn't see a thing. I dropped to my knees and cried out, dramatically pressing my fists to the deck. "Hoshiko!" I heard almost in unison, footsteps rushing to my side. My gaze raised from the floor, eyes now trickling tears. "I'm fully blind! I can't - oh wait." I cut myself short, suddenly able to see faded but yet clear figures of my seaside companions. My head bowed once more to face the floor as I felt the solid end of a sheath bonk me from behind. "It's just fog- stupid." A low voice groaned, irritation desperately attempting to mask the faint concern. "Don't go scaring us like that." It of course was no less than the swordsman himself. In that moment I felt a quick breeze fly overhead. Sanji's foot met the sheathed weapon and swiped it away before lifting me to my feet. Even through this fog I could feel the laser stares the men exchanged.

There wasn't a moment for words before Usopp could be heard making his inhuman noises from the crows nest. "It's a - Its- Its a -" The craftsman stuttered like a broken record, trembling so violently I could've sworn I saw the mast shake a little too. "Spit it out!" Sanji protested. "It's a marine ship!" The boy squealed, ducking down so all that remained was two eyes peering behind the sharp goggles. Like from a movie scene the Marine warship peered its nose from the fog just barely brushing by the Merry. Everyone stood in silent awe. Then Chopper broke the silence. "There's another!" The small voice chanted from the very front of the ship. "They probably can't navigate through the fog either... Odds are they can't even see us." Nami informed, her words shrouded in a doubt that made it seem she was reassuring herself more than anyone. Robin confirmed.

As the crew daunted the fleet that seemingly surrounded us I felt the breakfast in my stomach leaden. I couldn't see a thing. My gaze roamed what I could barely make out to be the edges of our Merry, but beyond that the blur was but a wall of grey on every side. The despair of feeling so useless, unable to see the enemy right before us ate at me a little. Dead weight. That's what I would be if we were to be invaded in this cloud. I kept my head low in shame, fingers awkwardly picking at each other as I restlessly waited the weather to pass. Behind me a felt a firm grip creep on my shoulder, my lack of vision forcing my body to flinch a tad harder than I would've enjoyed. "It's fine." Was all the low familiar tone could offer me. My head tilted to peer over my shoulder, where Roronoa stood watching me closely. His eyes could almost pierce the fog and there wasn't anything I could see clearer than the green glades of his irises, grounded in speckles of hazel and brown. They drove an unexplainable determination within me, which with a deep breath fueled my confidence once again. We exchanged grins before turning our attention to the commotion that had started once again.

"He's falling!" Was all I could hear, my feet springing into action before I could process another thought. Was it Chopper? Were they too close to the ledge? I made way only to be held back by the captain's rubber arm coiling around my waist. The grip suspended me momentarily, my legs still running on their own for a moment before growing still again. "It's a boy..." Someone recanted. "It's a marine..." Another argued as all I could witness was a strange boy being hauled aboard the ship. Dressed in white and seemingly unconscious the gang grouped about the strange boy, scratching at their heads. What to do now?