There was a sound to silence on this island.
Even the sea held its breath.
The moment their boat touched the shore, the creaking wood echoed like a warning—'You are not welcome.'
Lale stood up to jump down, but the boat rocked slightly. Ace instinctively grabbed her wrist.
"Easy there, samurai princess," he whispered, his fingers lingering just a second too long.
Lale glanced at him. His grip was gentle—surprisingly gentle for someone so wild. Then, as always, she rolled her eyes.
"If I fall into another hole, I'm throwing your haori over your head… and maybe stealing your hat to sell for berries."
The shore greeted them with silence.
No children laughing.
No birds calling.
Only worn dirt paths, twisted bamboo groves, and bowed heads. The people moved slowly, as if burdened by invisible chains.
"The aura here…" Lale muttered, scanning their surroundings. "It's not a place to live. It's a graveyard of spirit."
Ace walked beside her, his eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture. "No fire," he said under his breath. "No light. And worst of all—no meat skewers."
👘 Wardrobe Shift (Now with 100% More Fabric Drama)
As they approached a small shrine, a woman stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Your foreign clothes… too loud. Please. Don't bring danger to our village."
She handed them traditional Wano garments.
Lale dressed in a deep crimson kimono with golden threads glinting in the sunlight. The sash hugged her waist tightly. Her hair was tied up, but loose strands framed her face—her eyes, sharper than ever, caught every flicker of movement.
Ace wore a black haori over a short orange-trimmed samurai robe. He rolled up the sleeves, tied his hair slightly back, and—rarely—left his hat behind.
"Wow," he said, eyeing her. "You look like a real samurai. I still look like a guy who traded bananas for fashion."
Lale actually smiled—a small, open one.
"We're being watched," she said, stepping a little closer. "Don't talk too much."
Ace leaned in, lips just near her shoulder. "So for once, you want me to be quiet?"
Without warning, Lale gently pushed a finger to his chest.
"No. I want you to talk less. Breathe, but in whisper mode."
Ace grinned and tucked his hands behind his back.
"See? I'm silent now. But inside, there's this screaming voice saying, 'In this outfit, you're not allowed to touch her. Respect the Wano aesthetics!'"
Lale stepped even closer. Her footsteps were soundless.
"You were born to break rules, Ace."
He said nothing.
Instead, he reached for her hand. Gently. Without hesitation.
And this time… she didn't pull away.
Her mind whispered: "This place may be cold… but his hands… are warm. And also, why does he still smell like campfire smoke?"
TO BE CONTINUED