Day 1.
It took five days—and way too many moments in between—for them to finally ask my name. They just called me Shōkin kasegi. aka bounty hunter and called it a day.
They didn't ask me in some formal setting, not as part of some great revelation. Just casually—like they'd realized the gap in the most basic information between us.
It was Carina who asked first, leaning against the rail of the ship as the sun dipped low, her hair catching the golden light like a net of fire.
I didn't flinch. I didn't blink. I gave them the same answer I had given everyone in this world.
Lovecraft.
A name born from convenience, half-truths, and a quiet respect for fiction over fact. One I'd given to countless strangers before them. One that felt more real now than whatever name had once belonged to me.
They repeated it a few times under their breath—testing the sound, getting used to how it felt between their lips. Nami said it cleaner. Clipped. Practical. Carina dragged it out like she was tasting it.
It was strange, the way none of us mentioned how long we'd been together without ever exchanging something so simple. But maybe it wasn't that strange. I didn't talk much. They didn't push much. I showed my feeling with action and they could read my actions and me.
We understood each other through glances, gestures, touches that stayed just long enough.
And when they asked questions, I answered.
Carina, sprawled on the deck with her feet in the air, asked what I liked. Nami asked what took two of my fingers. Question went on like that from what my life was like to everything in between.
I answered both the all the best I could.
And time passed like that—questions and stories floating between us like sea salt in the breeze.
---
Night fell. And with it, the cabin closed around us like a small world.
It wasn't spacious. Barely room to fit us three. A single lantern flickered in the corner. Shadows danced on the walls, brushing over the packed crates and hammocks that hung like abandoned dreams.
Carina had already claimed my hammock as her own. She was too lazy to even make her own hammock.
She nestled close without asking—head against my shoulder, her hand trailing slow lines across my chest like she was writing in a language I didn't speak. Her body curled around mine as if we were two pieces from the same broken puzzle.
"Baka Lovecraft-san." she whispered.
Sultry. Deliberate.
She said it like she was testing if it could melt, and I knew immediately—she had no intention of letting me sleep tonight.
Not that I minded.
I didn't say anything. Just mirrored her energy, touched her with the same measured heat she offered. No fire. Not yet. Just warm coals pressed close.
We didn't cross any lines. But we danced near them until they blurred.
---
Day 2.
The rhythm of sea life settled into place.
Nami took the helm, her eyes locked on the log pose. No wavering. No nonsense. Her hair caught the wind like a flag, and her voice carried clearly across the deck, giving instructions even when there wasn't anyone around to follow them.
Carina floated through the day like a lazy storm cloud—hopping onto my back when she felt like it, clinging like a child, flirting like a temptress.
So I carried her the whole day.
We worked through the essentials first. Supplies, sails, weapon checks, route confirmation.
Then came the important part.
Loot distribution.
The ship sale had brought in a staggering 116,480,690 berries. Every digit mattered to Nami. She had the number memorized like a prayer.
We split it by contribution—four shares to me, three each to the girls.
Fair.
Without them, the ship wouldn't have reached town intact. Without me, it wouldn't have been taken in the first place. Balance.
My share came to 46.59 million.
I didn't let Nami round that number to 46. So I took the amount.
I handed her two hundred thousand back from my pile. A small gesture. She took it almost lovingly, like it proved something deeper than money.
I passed the remaining two hundred ninety thousand to Carina. She smiled like she'd won a secret game. Nami pouted.
The bounty and loot added another 62 million to my stash. The fractions I didn't keep. I gave the girls whatever floated over the edge. More to Nami this time.
They responded in kind—with a kiss on each cheek, one from each.
A reward.
Or maybe a transaction in their own strange language.
Totaled out, my share stood at 108 million berries.
For my first bounty hunt.
Most hunters wouldn't break a million in their first year. I was holding more than some crews would ever touch. It was unnatural. And with my luck it was Fate saying I needed the money more than ever for whats to come.
Fate, I thought.
It hadn't come in my path for nearly a year. When it will come it will bring a storm.
I sighed a little at that thought but that thought vanished seeing the girls happy.
The girls earned around 55 million combined. From their faces, you'd think they'd just robbed a kingdom.
They laughed freely now.
Moved with lighter steps.
They clung to their coins like lovers, hugging the bags of money to sleep like children afraid of monsters in the dark.
They were radiant.
And they deserved it.
---
I lay on my bunk that night, alone.
They'd left me.
Not maliciously. Not in anger.
They were just too drunk on wealth to be near me—afraid their gaze might drift and cost them another million.
Which it nearly did.
Nami had to be shooed from my stash when I caught her staring too long.
I tossed her another million.
She took it with grace and no apology, vanishing into her hammock with a smile on her face and stars in her eyes.
Carina came next, already preparing her puppy eyes, but I shut it down with a look.
She pouted. But she didn't push.
In Syrup Village, I could live five months on what I'd spent in two days on them.
And I didn't regret a single coin.
---
I had spent 3.6 million in the town within two days. 1.3 million went towards the girl. .4 million went to the tavern for repairs. The remaining 1.9 million went to buying supplies and gifts for the villager.
I had brought books for Kaya. Essentials for the villagers. A bow tie for Merry. A cat claw for Klahadore. Foods, Color, Toys and gadgets for the kids. Usopp had the most expensive gift. It was what he wanted the most after all.
They are going to love it, I just knew it.
---
Day 3.
By now, the sea had its rhythm. The ship creaked with familiarity, sails billowing with lazy confidence, and the sun painted slow arcs across the deck like a silent god with nowhere to be.
Carina had found her place.
Which, in her case, was wherever I happened to be.
More specifically—on me.
Whenever she got bored (which was often), she'd leap onto my back with a cheer. Her arms would wrap around my neck, legs dangling, voice in my ear, always whispering something that made my mind stutter and my heartbeat misfire. When she wasn't latched onto me like a mischievous monkey, she entertained herself in her usual ways.
Mostly, by trying to rob me blind.
She played with the stacks of her own share like a dragon counting gold, fingers gliding across the notes with reverence. Then, like clockwork, her hand would wander to my pile—fingers just a bit too slow, too dramatic, practically daring me to catch her.
I always did.
But I never stopped her.
Because she never took more than she could charm back anyway.
Other times, she would lift the pendant I gave her to the light, holding it just high enough that the morning sun would catch it. The soft purple glow would scatter across the cabin walls, flickering like stardust. She'd giggle at it—childish and delighted, as if seeing it for the first time.
There was something pure in it.
Then there was Nami.
She had, without discussion, claimed dominion over the safe we had bought.
It was locked, labeled, and stationed in her room—which she insisted had the optimal airflow for protecting the money. She proposed a "security fee" for anyone using it.
Carina, predictably, objected. Loudly.
They argued over it like war generals. Nami wouldn't charge Carina at all, calling it a "friendship discount."
But me?
Double.
And when I looked at Carina for support, she just grinned like a fox that had just won a bet.
I sighed. And paid.
I could barely handle Carina on her own. If she and Nami ever decided to team up against me… I'd be broke, barefoot, and begging for scraps in a week.
So the day moved along. The wind stayed kind. Nami guarded the safe like a dragon curled around her hoard. Carina teased me at every opportunity. And I—well, I paid tolls and fees, and tried to stay sane in the eye of the storm.
---
Night came easy.
The stars showed up one by one like shy performers stepping onto a quiet stage. The world quieted. The sea rocked the ship gently, and I finally laid in my hammock, half-expecting peace.
Carina didn't ask permission. She never did.
She simply climbed in beside me, curled close, and exhaled with all the satisfaction of a cat finding the warmest corner of the room.
She didn't tease. Not with words.
But her body? Being this close was already a tease.
My hands didn't behave.
I told myself it was the sea air. The wine. The cabin heat. Any reason I could think of.
But I didn't stop them.
And she didn't ask me to.
---
Day 4.
I woke to water.
A full bucket of it, flung directly into my face.
Sputtering, soaked, I blinked through dripping hair to find Nami standing over me, arms crossed, lips tight with faux patience.
Apparently, Carina had been louder than expected last night.
She fined me ten million berries for the offense and ten for destroying her beauty sleep.
Ten.
I got it down to one hundred thousand.
Barely.
She accepted it with a skip in her step, dragging the bundle of notes from my stash and counting it in front of me like a public execution. Every flick of the note made my jaw twitch.
I gave her the look of a man defeated.
She smiled like an owner collecting rent.
---
Outside, the sun was already shining.
I took my toothbrush and stepped out to the side of the deck, rinsing my mouth with cold sea water, swishing through clenched teeth.
Then I saw her.
Carina.
Doing yoga.
And not the kind that focuses on peace or balance—no, this was deliberate. Every pose, every arch, every stretch was a silent assault on my self-control.
And she knew it.
She bent just as I looked. Held it longer than necessary. Her body caught the light, her pendant glinting like an exclamation mark on every movement.
After a while, she straightened, eyes locking with mine. She made Nami's signature money gesture—rubbing thumb against two fingers.
"100 man." she said flatly.
One million.
For watching.
I stared at her.
Then at Nami, who somehow nodded approvingly from the helm.
They were a pair.
Two wolves wearing perfume.
I didn't even argue. I just accepted it.
Carina jumped into my arms like a child rewarded with candy, kissing my cheek loudly before running off to count her money—my money—like she'd just got the mortgage payment on her house from renters.
I dunked my head in the sea.
I had gone mad.
Why am i agreeing to every single thing they ask me?
---
Back inside, towel slung over my shoulder, I returned to the cabin to find an argument already underway.
Carina and Nami, standing over my money pile.
Dividing it.
Without me.
"Watashi no." Mine. Carina said, puffing her chest, hands on hips.
"Īe." No. Nami snapped, puffing her own chest in retaliation. "Watashi no."
Both of them glared at each other.
Their chests met in the middle like a soft collision of ego and audacity.
I would have watched a lot longer if the money wasn't mine.
I threw my towel over their heads.
They yelped.
They blinked from under the towel, mouths open like children caught mid-theft.
Then they started blaming each other in a rush of accusations and finger-pointing.
I took my share from the middle of the battlefield and retreated to safety.
---
Night fell again.
This time, I was cautious.
But it didn't matter.
Carina and Nami came to me like synchronized swimmers in the dark, slipping into my hammock one after the other, flanking me on both sides with practiced ease.
They didn't even ask.
They wanted to cheer and butter me up to take another portion of the money tomorrow.
They curled in, pressed close, whispered nothing and everything with their presence.
I opened my mouth to say something—
The hammock snapped.
The three of us crashed to the wooden floor in a tangle of limbs and hair and yelps.
Instinct kicked in.
I caught them both. Shielded the fall.
Took the hit.
They landed on my chest with an oomph, hair spilling across my face, elbows in my ribs, but neither of them moved.
Just breathed.
Just listened.
I was okay and they knew that too.
Their ears pressed against me, their eyes closed. The rise and fall of my chest. The steady thump of a heart that had no idea how it survived these days.
We didn't speak.
We didn't move.
They just stayed there, resting on me like I was the only ground left in the world.
We slept like that.