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"Nami-ya," a voice spoke. The said girl turned slightly to see a tanned, slim man who carried a sword over his shoulder, a small smirk on his face.
"Oh, Law!" she waved, her cheeky smile never leaving her face.
"Yo, Traffy!" the captain of the Straw Hat crew waved. The man 'Traffy' irked slightly, frowning at his nickname but let it slide, knowing that no matter how many times he reminded the crew not to call him 'Traffy', they would never listen.
"How far away are we from the next island?"
"Ano, let's see..." she furrowed her brows, as she gazed down at the log pose, "we should be there in about ten minutes or so."
He merely nodded, turning away as he leaned over the railing, though he quickly groaned in pain as a hard object collided with his head. Eye twitching, he slowly turned to face a sheepishly grinning black-haired boy with a straw hat atop his head.
"Oi, Mugiwara-ya," he began, his head reaching up to lightly prod at his wound, which was starting to form a small bump, "what are you do-"
"We're here!" interrupted Nami, grinning widely, turning to Franky, "go to the dock, I'll find out how long the pose takes to set!"
"You do that Nami-chan~" swooned Sanji, suddenly popping his head out of the kitchen and relighting his cigarette. Seeing this, Law cringed slightly, itching to give him a lecture but decided against it; after all, it always seemed he was talking to a wall when he was with the Straw Hat Pirates... he just wanted to be with his own crew already, but he didn't want to abandon them, funny enough.
"Once Nami-ya returns, I'll tell you what I know about Kurushi Island, where we are," he jerked his head to the island which was teeming with life. Robin lowered her book slightly, a frown adorning her features.
"Doesn't 'Kurushi' mean 'suffer'?" she voiced aloud, the man giving her a grim nod. Luffy rocked back and forth, waiting for his navigator to return with the news.
Back on Kurushi Island, the orange-haired girl wandered around, her eyes wide as she watched inhabitants alike wander around, though she was intent on trying to find someone who actually knew how long the log pose would take to set. She eventually arrived at a small bar, buying herself a drink as she surveyed her surroundings.
It was a relatively small bar with multiple weapons hung on the ceiling for display. The Cat Burglar swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and stared forward, a bead of sweat rolling down her neck. She frowned slightly, the bartender giving her side-glance. He spied the log pose in her hand and raised a brow.
"You a navigator?"
"Yeah... I was wondering how long it would take for the log pose to set..."
Nothing could have prepared her for what he said next.
"Probably 'bout five months, I'd say."
The navigator choked on her drink.
"F-five months?!" she squeaked.
"Well, it changes all the time, missy," the woman next to her smoked, "one time it took almost a whole three years to set... those were not-so-great times."
"Yeah, and one time it took only one and a half days!" chimed in a boy nearby. Why is there a young boy in a bar... "But the average is about five months~"
"T-thank you," she stammered, handing the man some money as she headed out, hearing a 'come back soon' from behind her. She placed a hand to her chest as she suddenly remembered the weapons on display: a sword, an axe, a taser and other nameless weapons that she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the names of.
She began walking back to the Thousand Sunny, where the crew were waiting for her to return. The green-haired swordsman was the first to see her, raising a hand in salutation as a small being crashed into her. Blinking rapidly, she stared down at the perpetrator.
She had pink hair and eyes, a short white dress with a rope tied around her waist. She wore no shoes and what she thought to be a golden chain around her neck, with a small pendant dangling off the end.
"Sorry," she muttered quickly, hurrying past the orange-haired girl who blinked, startled.
"Huh... strange... I could have sworn I saw chains on her ankles..."
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"It takes five months on average!" whined the girl, the crew falling over in astonishment.
"Five months?!" cried Chopper.
"You sure, Nami?" Franky raised a brow, exiting his workshop and out onto the deck.
"Now that Nami-ya has returned," Law acknowledged, motioning for the crew to sit down on the deck, which they all did, "what does everyone know about this island?"
Cue the silence.
Law face-palmed.
Of course, these carefree idiots don't know anything about this isl-
"Actually, I've heard quite a bit," Sanji spoke up, the crew ignoring the Surgeon of Death's audible sigh of relief, "but rumour has it that this island is well-known for its nauseating and horrific methods of torture..."
"Eh, really?" Nami blinked, "it looked really peaceful when I went to ask about the log pose..."
"Blackleg-ya's not wrong," Law hesitated, "they're often trading or importing weapons or other torture items."
"C-can we turn around now?" uttered Usopp.
"Too late for that, we're already here," sighed Sanji, relighting his cigarette.
"Now that you mention it... the bartender that I asked had tonnes of weapons hanging up on the wall for display," Nami recalled, "I thought it was strange, considering a... bartender... doesn't exactly..."
"If you ask me, this place is fishy," grumbled Zoro, his one eye staring sceptically at the island.
"Which is why we can't-" agreed Law before his eye twitched, yelling out, "where the hell did Mugiwara-ya go?!"
Almost instantly, the crew groaned, facepalming.
"That idiot..."
"Not again..."
Somewhere on the island, Luffy's hands were placed on his hips, his signature grin adorning his face.
