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Fishman island was an… unfortunate experience for Nami. Over the course of the last two years, and with the help of her crew, she had almost forgotten about the scars Arlong had left on her heart, mind, and body. Being around Jimbei, who blamed himself for Arlongs wrong-doings, and Hordy, who was everything bad about Arlong and then some, had opened the wound that had festered within her since the fishman shot her mother and threw her life into nothing but chaos and pain.
Then, as she stood on the deck of the Sunny, she thought. Arlong was cruel, but over the eight years of working for him, she still had some good memories. Odd as it may sound but when he wasn't angry, he was almost like… a brother. As the ship ascended to the skies above, she thought about the times over the years where she almost forgot what he had done, and why she was even there to begin with.
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Arlong had let Nami take off her shackles for her 12th birthday, and now, for her 13th, he and several other crew members were taking her to Mirrorball Island, a small island north of Arlong park. The island was known for its nightlife and shopping districts, with long, quiet days when everyone slept off the hangovers from the night before. The trip would take roughly half an hour, which would be hell on her lungs.
She tightened her grip around the neck of a swordfishman named Mera. She was afraid, but she knew none of them would ever let her drown. They needed her too much. The thought almost killed her good mood, but the sound of splashing pulled her from her head.
“Careful Nami, take a deep breath and keep your grip. Tap my shoulder if you need air,” Mera’s deep voice rumbled beneath her, sending a spike of anxiety through her stomach.
“O-ok. I’m ready,” She punctuated her words with a deep breath and a nod, squeezing her eyes shut as the fishman lurched forward and dove. The shock of cold water almost broke her concentration, but she didn't have time to dwell on the sensation as they shot off, quickly catching up with the rest of the group. She lasted roughly 30 more seconds before loosening her grip just long enough to smack his shoulder.
Mera diverted from the group, angling upward and flinging the two of them up into the sky. Nami took another deep breath as they arched through the air, closing her eyes again as they hit the water.
The cycle continued until they reached the shores of Mirrorball Island. They could see the bright lights of the city even under the water, and feel the thrum of the music in the water. Nami kept her eyes closed until she felt the thud of solid ground of a dock under Mera’s feet, and opened her eyes to the neon glow of the thousands of bars and street parties stretching across the island.
The other fishmen in the crew split off, disappearing into bars and clubs, leaving her alone with Arlong. He turned to her and smiled.
“Where to, little Navigator?” he slung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his side, dragging her off the dock and towards the crowded streets.
“Umm.. how about there? I mean-”
“Of course, Nami,” Arlong chuckled as he led her into the clothing shop. She smiled and ignored the burn of his sharp nails digging into her arm, and the still healing tattoo that sat heavy in her skin. She was determined to enjoy this birthday, whether she liked it or not. Arlong had promised to pay for (steal) everything, and that it wouldn't have any effect on her debt, so she was going to milk this opportunity for everything she could.
They wove through the stores, swiping things from stalls and people's pockets. For such a large man, Arlong was shockingly deft and nimble, webbed hands slipping in and out of pockets and purses within seconds. Every once in a while he would drop stolen jewelry and coins into Nami's shopping bags, giving her a smile before continuing with his stealing. She refused to let her guard down though, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
They continued their winding path through the streets of the island, dodging drunken hands and stumbling groups of girls. Nami couldn't help but look at them with a burning jealousy; they were free, stumbling through the streets with their friends, wearing pretty dresses and heels, and she was stuck with the man who shot her mother in front of her. She pushed the thought from her mind as Arlong steered her into a bar.
The noise of the crowd was overwhelming, and her eyes glazed over as she was pulled to a corner booth where the rest of the crew had congregated. Distantly Nami remembered that this bar was their meeting place.
“Nami? Nami are you feeling alright?” Hachi’s words pulled her from her head as two of his tentacles took her bags from her hands and stored them under the table.
“Huh? Oh yeah, just tired,” it sounded like a lie, even to her, and Arlong seemed skeptical, but they brushed past it.
“How about you get us some drinks, something fruity yeah?” one of the newer crew members chimed in, giving her a look that dared her to say no. She nodded, and ducked around towards the bar.
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Nami sat in one of the high bar stools, waiting for her drinks when she felt an arm snake around her waist. She stiffened up, cringing away as the owner of the arm hooked his chin over her shoulder.
“Hey baby, how ‘bout you come drink with me and my friends huh?” his breath was rancid from alcohol, and his words were slurred. He slid his hand up to her chest, grunting when she elbowed him and slid from her stool.
“Oh c’mon girlie, don't you wanna have fun? We can show you a good time,” Nami’s heart raced as he pressed her against the bar, blocking him in with his sweaty body. She couldn't get more than a panicked yelp in before he spoke again, running his clammy hand up her thigh.
“Don't play hard to get, now, you know you-” with a thud and a shattered bottle, he hit the floor, and there stood Arlong. He looked pissed, screams ringing out from nearby patrons. He grabbed Nami from under her arms and hoisted her over the limp body like a disgruntled kitten. She stared blankly at the floor, still shocked as Arlongs booming voice rang across the bar, commanding Hachi to grab her bags and for the crew to leave the bar.
Nami was despondent as she was pulled through the streets of the city, near tears until a cone of tangerine ice cream was pushed into her hands. She looked up to see Arlong, grip still tight around her wrist, smiling down at her. She could see the sharp light in his dark eyes, even now he couldn't help but see her as less. At the very least though, the ice cream cleared her mind.
She could feel the wind in her hair as they ran, smell the sea air in her nose, taste the nostalgic flavor of tangerines in her mouth, and for the first time in years, she felt free. Despite the iron grip on her wrist, despite being dragged much faster than she could run on her own, and despite the company of the fishmen around her, she felt free.
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As Nami had aged, her thoughts about Arlong had become conflicted. Often, he was kind, treating her more like a little sister than the hostage she truly was. He would stand behind her and watch her play poker with the crew, doing nothing to stop her from cheating. He would let her have free use of the ‘attractions’ at Arlong Park when she was back from weeks at sea.
Other times though, he was cruel, screaming and throwing things at her when she didn't finish a map fast enough or for sleeping in too late. On one occasion, a bottle of ink had been spilled on a nearly finished map, and he had flown into a rage. She went to bed that night with a poorly wrapped broken hand and a shaking body covered in bruises. It was a cycle, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never break it. He would hurt her, breaking bones and making her bleed, leaving her quivering, shackled in a pool of blood and vomit.
Once he cooled down, Arlong would shower Nami in gifts, clothes and jewelry and all her favorite foods. He would take her to parties and clubs, washing her pain away with kindness and sweet words. He would buy her top of the line supplies for her maps, and complement her work, filling her with pride. She could even forget about the reason she was there, what he had done and what she had to do to make things right again. In times like this, Arlong Park felt like her home.
She was always thrown back into the brutal reality of her life when Arlong came home from raids, carrying bags of money stolen from the innocent people of the Conomi islands. When she was 17, he came back to the park with a crate of tangerines. The sight of the orange fruit made bile rise in her throat, but what truly got her was the one, single little fruit splattered in blood. The farmer hadn't been seriously harmed, but Nami didn't know that. All she knew was Arlong had hurt one of her people, neighbors she’d known all her life who’d watched her grow. Friends, who gave her bread when Bellemere was struggling with money and books to pass the long days.
The thought of Arlong hurting one of the villagers after everything else he’d done cemented her hate for him, and no amount of kindness would fix it. For weeks after that trip, after he brought her the tangerines, she did nothing but lay in bed and cry. No yelling or promises of fancy things or food could pull her from her sadness. She barely ate or drank, and didn't get up for anything. After years Arlong still had an iron grip on her, and she couldn't see an end to it all.
Her next mission, weeks later, had been to Shells Town, where she met her captain.
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Luffy had done so much for her. He had freed her and her people, he had given her family back. Most importantly though, he had shown her true, unconditional kindness. Kindness that wouldn't be ripped away the second she messed up, that didn't have to be bought. Nami was free at last.
As Nami boarded the Merry, she could feel the wind in her hair, smell the salty sea air in her nose, and taste Sanji’s freshly made tangerine tart on her tongue. She could hear laughter, and feel love all around her. This was her chance to be free.
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Nami stared out into the deep darkness of the sea, and felt everything was right again. Arlong was dead, and could never hurt anyone ever again. Still, the feeling was bitter-sweet. Even through the years of abuse, she had fond memories of him and his crew. Memories of Arlong congratulating her for winning a card game, of Hachi carrying her to her room when she fell asleep at a party. Memories of Chu showing off his many strange talents to make her laugh, and of Kuroobi showing her the basics of self defense before they let her go off on her own.
Here, she decided that focusing on the good times was the best she could do for herself. Arlong was gone and most of his crew were dead or in prison, so dwelling on the bad and holding that grudge would do nothing but ruin her. It would poison her heart and turn her cold, hating a man who could never hurt her again.
Now, she listened to Luffy and Usopp screech about being hungry and Sanji’s protests. Everything was right with her world. The boys were being loud and stupid, Robin was off somewhere being dramatic and creepy, her family in Coco Village were safe, and Arlong was gone, dead and buried. She looked down when she felt a tug on her pants.
“Are you okay Nami? You seem awfully quiet,” Chopper said softly, his big dark eyes full of sincerity and care. Nami could gush about how adorable he was, really.
“Yes Chopper, i’m okay, really,” She giggled, touched by his concern. He huffed and nodded, plopping onto the deck and resting his small head against her leg. Truely, everything was perfect now.
Her serenity was shattered by Luffy catapulting past her and slamming face first through the ship's bubble coating. God fucking dammit.