Day two of captivity.
Waking up was just as miserable as yesterday. The floor was bare, not even a straw mat to cushion the hardness, and my body ached all over. Wrapping myself in the blanket might have helped a little, but it was barely a comfort.
Breakfast arrived, served in the same manner as yesterday. I ate it, returned the dishes, and then... nothing.
There was absolutely nothing to do.
I know it's pretty brazen of me, considering I'm locked in a cell waiting to be sold off, but after spending a night here, I've somehow gotten surprisingly used to it.
Not that I don't feel anxious or scared, but I'm managing to keep those feelings tucked away while still staying calm and relatively relaxed.
That's when I started thinking about the future again, like yesterday. But I quickly ran out of things to ponder and ended up bored again.
Again, there's absolutely nothing to do. No books, no way to exercise—none of the usual ways to pass the time are available in this prison cell.
I could do some basic strength training or light exercises, though.
And I did. With nothing else to do, I pushed myself until I was exhausted, and then I was just bored again.
Well, at least it's keeping my body from getting too out of shape.
Then again... I remember back in town, I used to spend all my free time brainstorming new stories for the Read-Aloud sessions.
I tried doing that here, too, letting my imagination run wild and crafting original tales or homages. And since there's absolutely nothing else to do, I came up with quite a few.
But... it's frustrating that I have no way to write them down.
All that effort, and they'll just fade from memory... what a waste.
It's surprisingly painful to have absolutely nothing to do.
Today, just like yesterday, I spent my time alternating between meals, washing myself, daydreaming, and working out.
***
Day three of captivity.
Today was different from the previous two days.
Yesterday and the day before, the pirates had mostly left me alone except for meal times and washing. But today, for some reason, a pirate stayed in the room even after breakfast, watching me like a guard. No, not like a guard—he was a guard, probably.
When I asked why he was there, he said, "One of the other captured women killed herself in her cell yesterday. We can't afford to have any more merchandise dying or getting damaged, so we're keeping a closer watch now."
Ah, I see... That makes sense.
To them, we're valuable merchandise—or rather, since I'm the only one in this cage, I'm the valuable merchandise. Sold to the right buyer, I could fetch a considerable sum.
But to fetch that price, I need to be alive and in good condition.
If I'm emaciated, unhealthy, scarred, or have any other physical flaws, my value plummets, or I might even become unsellable.
The three meals a day and the lack of excessive brutality—that's all part of their "quality control," I suppose.
And this watchman too. He's here to prevent despair from driving me to suicide or self-harm, which could leave scars.
They can't afford to have any more "merchandise" dying or losing its value.
So, starting today, it seems a pirate will be keeping watch over me around the clock—maybe even at night. It's unnerving to be watched constantly.
But worrying about it won't change anything. There's no point in asking them to stop; they wouldn't listen anyway.
I tried not to let it bother me and started my post-meal workout, just like yesterday.
I hooked my feet around the iron bars and began doing sit-ups, the chains on my handcuffs clanking with every movement. It was subtly annoying. As I worked out, the pirate watching me spoke up.
"Missy, for someone so small, you've got nerves of steel. You're pretty relaxed for someone captured by pirates."
"No, I'm not relaxed at all. I'm just killing time with exercise since there's nothing else to do."
"Normally, the phrase 'killing time' wouldn't even cross your mind in a situation like this," the pirate chuckled. "Even grown men, ten or twenty years older than you, would be shaking in their boots if they got captured by pirates."
He laughed mockingly, clearly amused by the thought of being watched. "Aren't you scared? You know they're going to sell you off, right?"
"Of course I'm scared and anxious," I admitted. "But dwelling on it would just drive me crazy. By the way, are you stuck guarding me all day?"
"Yeah, I'm still the new guy. I get stuck with grunt work and jobs like this. I thought this watch duty would be a boring pain, but watching you has actually been kind of interesting."
So, even for him, guarding me was just a way to pass the time.
What's more, he was surprisingly approachable and easy to talk to... At least, he didn't seem like the type to be needlessly intimidating.
If that's the case... could I actually pull this off?
"Um... if you don't mind, I have a favor to ask."
"Huh?"
"I'm bored with nothing to do... would you mind keeping me company?"
Several hours later...
"So, they ended up drinking themselves into oblivion. The next day, they were so hungover they couldn't even stand watch properly. The Captain chewed them out royally."
"Oh dear... well, I guess it's understandable if they were celebrating a big success."
"It wouldn't be so bad if they hadn't blown all their shares and ended up broke. And let's not forget that barmaid—she was a smooth talker. Being used to dealing with pirates, she wasn't intimidated at all. She knew how to flatter people like nobody's business. I could see it all since I was watching from the side."
"Ah, so you saw it all coming and didn't stop them?"
"Of course it was hilarious! It was the perfect thing to talk about over drinks. He even picked up our tab when he got drunk!"
"Wow, he totally planned that. What a jerk... Oh, right, he's a pirate."
"Hahaha, exactly! You gotta stay sharp in this world, or you're asking for it."
At first, he gave me a "what's this guy on about?" look, but since he was bored too, he eventually shrugged and went along with it.
We started with small talk, but as the drinks flowed, the conversation shifted to his pirate adventures.
Even though he was still a rookie, being a pirate on the Grand Line meant he had plenty of wild stories to tell. He told us some truly fascinating stuff. No wonder they call it the Pirate Graveyard—just hearing about a routine voyage there sounded like something out of a great adventure novel.
This is way more interesting than I expected. I only meant to kill some time, but I'm genuinely hooked on the story.
The pirate seems to be enjoying himself too, getting to brag about his adventures. And, not to toot my own horn, I think I'm a pretty good listener, which makes him even more comfortable sharing.
All those drinking sessions with the townsfolk, where I listened to their family troubles and drunken gripes, are finally paying off. You never know when experience will come in handy.
"So, being a pirate, do you often clash with other crews or get chased by the Marines?"
"Ah, all the time. Those are life-or-death situations... but our captain's an Ability User, so he's crazy strong. We haven't lost a single fight yet. And man, that celebratory drink afterward tastes like victory itself."
"I see... Have you ever encountered other Ability Users?"
"Not yet... Well, you don't exactly run into Devil Fruit Ability Users every day, you know?"
"That makes sense. In the Original Work, they pop up so frequently, I figured you'd bump into them all the time on the Grand Line—like, if you threw a rock, you'd hit one."
"Nah, unless you're some reckless idiot deliberately sticking your nose in trouble, you won't encounter them that often."
"Right. The main characters in the Original Work are exactly that kind of reckless idiots. That checks out."
"Still, there's no profit in fighting pirate ships or the Marines. Best to steer clear of that nonsense."
"Wait, really? I figured pirate ships, at least, would be loaded with plundered treasure. Don't people fight over that kind of thing?"
"If you're lucky, maybe. But pirates are all the same—they blow through their loot the moment they get it. Savings? That's not in their vocabulary. After a big raid, they might have something worth stealing, but most of the time it's just food and weapons. Honestly, raiding a regular town is easier and pays better."
"Huh... good to know."
"What's so good about it? Ha ha ha!"
Even casual chatter could reveal unexpected insights.
Hearing firsthand stories like this was way more interesting than just reading about it... even if the guy was bragging about his crimes.
"Still, Missy, you're awfully calm. Aren't you scared of me... or maybe you just hate me? I raided your town, killed a bunch of people, and now I'm about to sell you off myself, you know?"
"Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't hate you or that I wasn't scared. But what could I even do about it? Acting tough and getting myself hurt would be pointless. Besides, I was bored, and my curiosity got the better of me."
"You've got some nerve for a kid... By the way, how old are you, Missy?"
"I'm turning thirteen soon."
"Wow, you're younger than I thought..."
"Speaking of that, I've been meaning to ask: did you make a good haul when you attacked my town? It was pretty well-off, you know."
"...You're unbelievable."
He stared at me, a mix of admiration and disbelief in his eyes.
"Well, I guess you don't often hear someone ask the pirates who destroyed their town, 'Did you make a good haul?'"
"It wasn't bad, I suppose," the pirate replied. "But I figured those folks were mostly just ordinary, hard-working people. They had some money, but hardly anyone had jewelry or fancy stuff."
"Yeah, there's not much point in showing off in a backwater town like this," Missy said. "Maybe at a wedding... but even then, most people just wear their everyday clothes."
"Makes sense," the pirate said. "Anyway, the take was decent, but not a goldmine. Still, we nabbed a few promising types who'll fetch a good price later... Missy here's one of them."
"Ah, I see... By the way, do you think I'd fetch a good price?"
"You just casually ask the craziest things..."
The pirate was looking at me like I was some kind of rare exotic creature. He gave me another once-over, his expression thoughtful.
"Hmm... Well, you're decent-looking, so you'd probably sell for a fair bit. If you were a little older, you might fetch even more. But since you're still... untouched, like a good Missy should be, that'll definitely factor into the price."
He laced his words with something... unsavory. He even deliberately wore a villainous expression, trying to tease me and make me nervous.
"Ah... so even that kind of thing gets factored into the appraisal? Well, I guess it makes sense, since I haven't exactly been through much yet."
"..."
But I'd failed.
"But then, do 'experienced' people, like married women or those who've given birth, get sold for less?"
"...Missy, I swear, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Yeah, their price would be lower than a virgin's. They're usually older too. Of course, we want to sell them for as much as possible, so we only bother kidnapping them if they're exceptionally good-looking."
"And once we've snatched someone, we feed them properly to maintain their quality and don't do anything nasty. If necessary, like right now, we even keep an eye on you to stop you from doing anything stupid and getting hurt."
"You get it, right? If you keep being a good girl, we'll let you out of this cell with your healthy, pretty body intact."
"But then I'll become a slave, right?"
"Well, yeah."
"In that case... I guess my pretty body's time is limited. Oh dear."
"You're taking this way too calmly... not even a hint of fear. Missy, are you *really* a girl?"
"How rude! Of course I am. Want me to prove it?"
"Nah, I'm good."
Oh, okay then.
A few hours later, after lunch...
"...What's with all the friendly chatter?"
"Oh, time for the shift change already? See ya, Missy. It was kinda fun."
"Bye-bye!"
"...Wait, 'fun'? What the heck?"
The pirate brother who came to relieve him looked utterly bewildered.
Ah, that was fun! I hope that guy gets stuck on watch duty again sometime.
To be continued...