The last tongues of golden sunlight licked at the edge of the horizon, smearing across the calm sea like honey spilled across dark wood. Sora's oars dipped and rose in steady rhythm, cutting through the water with satisfying little splashes.
Nami sat at the stern, compass balanced in her palm, gaze fixed on the blazing sky with an intensity that suggested she wasn't really seeing it.
They hadn't spoken much since escaping the pirate ship. What was there to say? Hey, thanks for helping me bash those guys' brains in. Lovely weather we're having.
Sora snorted at his own dark humor, drawing a quick, suspicious glance from Nami before her attention returned to the compass.
He looked down at his hands, gripping the worn wooden handles of the oars. These same hands had wielded a bloody plank a few hours ago, had felt the sickening vibration of wood meeting skull. Yet here was the strangest part—he didn't feel sick about it. Not even slightly.
In my old life, a fight for me meant a court date. Here... it felt like breathing.
Ahead, the sun melted into the sea, painting the world in impossible colors. Vermilion and gold streaked across the sky, reflecting in the water until it seemed they were rowing through liquid fire. The sheer, staggering beauty of it all struck him silent.
What kind of world had he landed in? One where violence and beauty existed side by side in such extreme measures?
His gaze drifted to Nami, who was bathed in the dying light. The sunset turned her orange hair into a crown of living flame, softened the sharp edges of her expression. Her eyes reflected gold, hiding whatever calculations churned behind them. Beside her feet sat the bulging sack—coins, jewels, who knew what else.
"You know," Sora said, his voice quiet in the vastness surrounding them, "with what's in that sack, you could probably disappear. Buy a nice little house on a quiet island and never work again." He paused, genuinely curious. "So... why don't you?"
Nami's head snapped up, startled from her thoughts. For a split second—so brief he might have imagined it—something flashed across her face. Something raw and wounded that made her look much younger than her confident demeanor suggested.
Then it was gone, replaced by a bright, slightly too-wide smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"What, and let all this talent go to waste?" She laughed, the sound a little too loud against the quiet lapping of waves. "Silly Sora. There's no such thing as 'enough' money. Why have a house when you can have an island? Why have an island when you can have a kingdom?"
She patted the sack possessively, her fingers lingering on the bulging fabric. "I just love money. Simple as that."
Sora didn't believe her for a second. The flash of pain he'd glimpsed was too real, too visceral. But before he could probe deeper, she leaned forward, brown eyes suddenly sharp and focused entirely on him.
"Enough about my perfectly reasonable financial goals," she said, her tone shifting to something analytical. "Let's talk about you. You fight like a monster, you look like you fell out of a fairy tale with those ridiculous eyes, and you carry a name that sounds like it belongs to royalty." Her head tilted slightly. "So I'll ask you, Delahaye D. Sora... what is it you want?"
Sora stopped rowing. The small boat drifted gently in the current, rocking with the subtle pulse of the sea. He looked at the last sliver of sun disappearing into darkness, then back at her.
A slow smile spread across his face—not the cocky grin he'd worn during the fight, but something deeper and infinitely more dangerous. He let the silence stretch between them, savoring the weight of the question.
"Wealth. Fame. Power," he murmured, almost to himself, the words from the divine letter an inside joke only he understood.
Then his gaze swept across the endless horizon, where the first stars had begun to prick the deepening violet sky. When he spoke again, the sarcasm had drained from his voice, replaced by a tone of absolute conviction.
"I want the world. All of it. The best food, the most beautiful sights, the most dangerous fights..." His golden eyes gleamed in the fading light, the red rings seeming to pulse with his words. "I want to stand at the very top and experience everything it has to offer, with no one to tell me no."
The declaration hung in the twilight between them. In another context, from another person, it might have sounded childish or delusional.
But there was something in his voice—a certainty, a hunger—that made the words feel less like a dream and more like a prophecy.
To his surprise, Nami didn't laugh. She didn't roll her eyes or dismiss him as another idiot with delusions of grandeur. She studied him with a calculating intensity that seemed to measure the weight of his ambition against some private scale of her own.
"That's a lot of world to conquer," she said finally.
Sora shrugged. "I've got time."
Darkness fell completely, enveloping them in a blanket of stars so brilliant and numerous they seemed almost solid enough to touch. The Milky Way stretched overhead like a river of light, illuminating their small craft just enough to see each other's outlines.
The energy between them had shifted. The adrenaline of escape had faded, leaving behind bone-deep exhaustion and the strange intimacy of two strangers who had survived violence together.
Sora picked up the oars again, feeling the comfortable weight in his palms. "I'll take the first watch," he said, voice matter-of-fact. "You should get some sleep. You gave me the heading."
Nami hesitated, studying him in the starlight. To sleep in the presence of a stranger—a man who had just admitted to wanting everything—required a level of trust he wasn't sure she possessed. Her fingers drifted unconsciously to the small staff at her belt, as if reassuring herself it was still there.
Then, to his surprise, she let out a long sigh. The rigid line of her shoulders softened, and she stretched her arms overhead, her body arching like a cat's in a movement both innocent and unknowingly alluring. In the faint glow of stars, he could see the elegant silhouette she cut against the night sky.
Without a word, she lay down on the wooden bench opposite him, settling herself as comfortably as possible on the hard surface. Then, without a word, she propped her bare feet onto his thigh.
Sora froze, looking down at the unexpected contact. Her feet were small and surprisingly delicate against his leg, warm through the fabric of his pants.
He didn't push her feet away. He didn't comment. He just accepted the weight, as strange and unexpected as everything else in this bizarre new world.
Her eyes were already closed, her breathing evening out into the rhythm of sleep. With her guard down, her features softened, making her look younger and more vulnerable than the sharp-tongued thief who had slapped sense into him in a pirate ship pantry.
A strange, unfamiliar feeling flickered in his chest—a protective instinct he hadn't known he possessed.
"Sweet dreams, Cat Burglar," he murmured, too softly for her to hear.
He resumed rowing, guiding their small vessel through the star-dusted darkness. The night wrapped around them like a cloak, hiding them from whatever dangers might lurk beyond the circle of their existence. For now, their world had contracted to this: a tiny boat, the rhythm of waves, and the weight of a sleeping thief's trust.
Hours passed in comfortable silence. Sora's new body barely registered fatigue as he maintained their course according to Nami's earlier instructions. The moon rose, casting silver light across the water, turning the world monochrome.
He was so absorbed in the hypnotic motion of rowing that he almost missed the slight change in Nami's breathing. Her eyes remained closed, her position unchanged, but he could sense the subtle shift from sleep to wakefulness.
"You're a terrible actress," he said without looking at her. "How long have you been awake?"
One eye cracked open, regarding him with annoyed resignation. "How could you tell?"
"Your breathing changed." He shrugged. "Plus you stopped snoring."
"I do not snore!" She sat up indignantly, though she made no move to remove her feet from his lap.
"Super loud," Sora insisted, straight-faced. "Scared off a couple of sea monsters. They took one listen and swam for deeper water."
Nami kicked his thigh lightly. "You're such a liar."
"Says the girl who pretended to be asleep while watching me for... what, twenty minutes?"
"I was assessing whether you were going to rob me and dump my body overboard," she countered, but there was no real heat in her voice.
"And the verdict?"
She studied him, her expression unreadable in the moonlight. "Undecided. But leaning toward 'probably not tonight.'"
"High praise."
"The highest I give." She stretched again, then gestured toward the oars. "My turn. You should rest."
Sora raised an eyebrow. "You sure? I'm not tired."
"Doesn't matter. We take shifts. That's how it works if you want to reach land without dying from exhaustion or being ambushed while you're both asleep."
It made sense. He relinquished the oars, their fingers briefly touching during the exchange. Nami settled into position, her strokes steady and assured despite her smaller frame.
"So," she said after a while, "these 'ridiculous eyes' of yours. Were you born with them, or is that... new?"
Sora leaned back against the side of the boat, considering how to answer. The truth would sound insane—Well, funny story, I died in another world and some cosmic entity stuffed me into this body with these weird eyes after a clerical error. Yeah, that would go over well.
"It's complicated," he said instead. "Let's just say they're a recent acquisition."
"Along with whatever you did to those pirates?" she pressed. "Most people don't take down six men with just a wooden plank."
"Most people aren't me," he replied with a grin.
She rolled her eyes. "And modest, too."
"Just honest. Besides, you weren't exactly helpless yourself. That staff thing was impressive."
Her hand drifted to the collapsed baton at her belt. "A girl needs to protect herself in this world."
"And the weather prediction? Is that something anyone can do, or are you special too?"
"It's a skill I've always had. Useful in my line of work."
"Thieving?"
"Treasure hunting," she corrected primly.
"Which is different from thieving how, exactly?"
She sniffed. "Pirates stole it first. I'm just... redistributing wealth."
"Into your own pockets."
"Exactly! See, you understand perfectly." Her smile was pure mischief.
Sora couldn't help laughing. There was something refreshing about her brazen approach to morality. No self-justification, no tortured rationalization. Just simple, straightforward selfishness—or at least, that's what she wanted him to believe.
He still remembered that flash of pain in her eyes when he'd asked why she didn't just settle down with her wealth. There was more to Nami's story than simple greed, but he knew better than to push.
Everyone had their secrets. God knew he had enough of his own.
"You mentioned a trading port," he said. "What's it called?"
"Shells Town," she replied. "Small naval base, decent market. We can sell the goods there and figure out where to go next."
"We again, huh?" Sora raised an eyebrow. "And after that?"
Her strokes never faltered. "After that, we go our separate ways. You go chase your 'everything,' and I go back to collecting my fortune."
Something in her tone caught his attention. A finality, as if she were already calculating the end of their partnership before it had properly begun.
"Fair enough," Sora said casually. "Though I've gotta say, as temporary survival partners go, you're not the worst I could've ended up with."
She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before she masked it with a scoff. "Wow. Almost as much of a compliment as 'probably won't murder me tonight.'"
"The highest I give," he echoed her words back to her, and was rewarded with a genuine smile.