Three Days, Two Years

Chapter One

The one year anniversary of his death was unnecessarily quiet, Nami decided. It was unreasonable to assume that the crew would show up to their meeting place, expecting their captain, but instead simply knowing that he would never laugh at them again, but she was hopeful they would nonetheless.

As she sat alone in the pub, drinking her troubles away, she had decided that the rest of the Straw Hat Crew were useless, and nasty. How dare they leave her alone when she had been hurting the most?

Truthfully, she was incredibly lonely since the crew had been separated. She had no one to laugh with, no one to bargain for money with, no one to faint as she read them the list of debts she had kept.

She sighed, downing another mug of booze.

It wasn't fair to say that she was hurting the most, and she knew that. She was well aware the effects Luffy's death would have, and did have on the rest of the crew. She just hated being alone, and without her captain, who was she? A failed navigator? An ex-pirate? Did she still count as a pirate at this point?

Nami had dropped off the face of the earth when Luffy died. She couldn't show herself in public, knowing she looked like a wreck. She had lost her mind in the first few days of the newspaper release, chopping her hair and tearing through her wardrobe, searching for something, something of Luffy's that she hoped she had.

It was useless.

She was simply...

alone.

How did anyone expect her to heal? Learning to control the weather and tracking patterns had only distracted her from the dull thud of her chest, and although her dream had been to make a map of the world, she realized that she didn't have a way to (or want to) without Luffy. Her captain. Her savior.

Another swig of booze passed her lips and burned the back of her throat.

Maybe she should have included the fact that she was lonely in the letters she had written to her (ex?) crew mates. Maybe they would have mourned with her instead of being so far away and making excuses as to why they couldn't.

Maybe.

Another painful stab in the place her heart should have been. It was instead an empty void, only remnants of her once-whole heart, floating around inside, a constant aching battle-scar she had received from the newspaper article.

She sighed and placed her head on the cool wood of the bar counter, closing her eyes.

She wanted to go home.

But... did she have a home?

The Thousand Sunny was the place her heart rested, found only in the memories in her mind. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost picture her and the others lounging on the lawn, faces bright and happy. If she concentrated even harder, the blurry faces focused, and she could see Luffy, happy. Young. Carefree.

His smile was forever etched into her mind.

When Nami finally lifted her head, tears had pooled on the counter. She sniffed, full of false dignity. Despite the fact that she had no connection to any of the other, incredibly drunk, sporadically spaced pub surfers, she felt that she still had an obligation to herself to look her best. Slightly too aggressively, she wiped her eyes and stood.

If she was going to be alone, she was going to at least feel confident about her appearance.

She went shopping in the little shops scattered around Sabaody, and bought herself a nice bikini, as well as several new necklaces (although technically, slipping the jewelry into her bra and paying for the bikini didn't really count as buying all of the items, but she was Nami The Cat Burglar, what could be expected of her?) and vowed to grow her hair out.

"Shopping on the anniversary? That's low, Nami. Even for you," a deep voice said behind her, and she turned and opened her mouth to retort, but then recognized the familiar scowl plastered on a green-haired man. She dropped the bags in her arms.

He had gotten taller, and his muscle definition had increased. A deep scar ran down his left eye, keeping it closed, but the other was perfectly fine, despite having lost some of its vibrance. He looked the same, more or less, but Nami noticed the slight difference in the way he held himself. Before they had been separated, he held himself light and carefully, but now his shoulders hunched just barely, and more solidly.

"Zoro?" Tears sprung into her eyes, but they quickly switched from relief to bitterness. "Shut the hell up, you bastard," she said, stomping forward and narrowing her eyes. An accusatory finger jabbed the tall man in the chest. "None of you wanted to join me; you'd rather push me out of your lives!"

Zoro rolled his eyes, more to hide the throb of relief in his chest, than out of irritability. He took a step backward, and observed the tiny ball of fiery spite she was. Good god, she looked like a mess, all rumpled clothes and puffy eyes, and uneven cut hair, and the drunk tint spread across her cheek bones didn't help her case any. Dark bags hung under her eyes, and her skin was unnaturally pale. It was clear how badly Luffy's absence had affected her.

"You still don't have to be spending money instead of actually spending time at the memorial." Zoro couldn't help the acid dripping from his words, despite trying to bite them back. Nami huffed and turned to grab the bags, casually abandoned on the dirt street.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll just go home, then." She wanted to go to the grave, but she was certain that she couldn't without having a mental breakdown. It would have been worth it if Zoro went with her, however, so she didn't feel so alone.

Guilt and loneliness gripped the man so tight that when he spoke, his voice cracked.

"Wait!" he called, reaching for her. Both winced and the break in character, but Nami stopped. "Please don't leave me alone," he begged, squeezing his eyes shut. Upon realizing  that he, too, was broken up inside, she turned and walked closer.

"No more comments."

He looked at her.

"Agreed."

And the two walked side by side in silence.