Her first question was a breeze: "Do they have a signature weapon?" I answered "yes" without thinking, which seemed to satisfy her—for exactly five seconds.
Then came the second one, and I knew I was in trouble: "Are they impulsive?" I hesitated. I mean, come on, there are moments, right? Eventually, I said, "Sometimes," which was clearly a red flag for her. She leaned in, eyes narrowing like she'd just uncovered a massive conspiracy.
And then, the final question. The one that would make a seasoned pirate look for the nearest lifeboat. She asked, with all the mischief of a child in a candy store, "Have you two ever shared a private moment? Something... you know... intimate?"
I wanted to leap into the sea and swim to the nearest island. What was I supposed to say? Lie? Deny? Nami would see through that like it was made of glass. So, in my infinite wisdom, I muttered a very quiet, very awkward "yes."
Cue the storm. She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like I'd just confessed to pilfering the last golden fruit from her secret stash, and then bam—the analysis began. She started pacing around the room, waving her arms like she was conducting a symphony of speculation. "A weapon," she mused, "but not just any weapon. It has to be unique. Something sharp? Spiky? No, no, something big. Maybe a cannon? Or a trident?" She even mimed holding a trident, nearly sending my lamp into the abyss in the process.
Then the names started flying. "Heat! Wire! Penguin! It's Penguin, isn't it?!" She spun on me, practically shaking with excitement, waiting for my reaction. I gave her nothing. Naturally, that only made her dig deeper.
Then, the moment of truth. Her eyes widened as if she'd uncovered a conspiracy of global proportions. "Wait. No, it's Drake! It has to be Drake! He's all broody and mysterious, and you've got this thing for complicated types—don't deny it!"
That was it. That was the moment I lost it. I laughed so hard I nearly passed out. Tears streamed down my face, and I almost fell out of my chair.
Nami stared at me, genuinely offended, as if I'd insulted her very existence. "Why is that funny?!" she demanded, clearly hurt. "Drake makes sense! He's tall, broody, and complicated! You'd totally fall for that!"
And now, my dear mystery master, she's probably out there somewhere on the ship, recruiting Usopp for a full-scale investigation into the "truth." If you get a letter demanding to know your weapon of choice, don't say I didn't warn you. You've just been inducted into the Great Nami Mystery of the Century.
Stay mysterious, Yours truly, (Y/N)»
Classic, he thought. That's exactly why he loved these damn letters. Every time, it's like trying to solve a riddle wrapped in a joke.
Before he could get lost in his thoughts, Kid's voice sliced through the air.
"Another one of those? Who the hell are they from anyway?"
"One of the best storytellers I know," he repeated, his tone almost tender. "Keeps me on my toes. The kind of words that stick with you long after you've read them. I don't get it, but if you're happy with it, I guess that's all that matters."
Killer nodded. "I'm not just happy. I'm damn lucky." His eyes flickered to the letter again, something unspoken in his gaze.
Your letters, he kept them all.
«Dear (Y/N),
You've done it again, haven't you? I can practically hear your laughter echoing through the lines, and I can't help but smile. You have this uncanny ability to turn the most absurd situations into something unforgettable—something that will stay with me for far longer than it should.
As for Nami's "investigation," well, I can't say I didn't see that coming. Her mind is like a finely tuned machine when it comes to cracking cases, even if they're as off-the-wall as this one. When she started rattling off names, I nearly choked. Drake? Really?
There's something about the whole spectacle—the playful chaos, the mystery, the overzealous detective work—that reminds me of how lucky I am to know you. You have this unique talent for making everything feel lighter, even in the most ridiculous situations. It's rare to find someone who can take a simple question and turn it into a whirlwind of humor. Nami's interrogation techniques were something to behold, but it was your words, your honesty amid the madness, that truly stole the show.
I'm lucky. Lucky to receive letters like this, lucky to know someone who can make me laugh, think, and smile all at once. If that's not luck, I don't know what is.
Keep the letters coming.
As for my day—it's been one of those hectic ones. We're in the middle of some serious repairs on the ship, and there's always a constant flow of things to fix. Of course, there's the usual drama with the crew—someone's always arguing over something. I ended up spending a few hours patching up a hole in the hull that didn't want to stay fixed, but at least we made progress. After that, it was back to keeping things in check with the rest of the crew. And now, here I am, taking a break to write to you—definitely a welcome distraction from the usual chaos.
Stay mischievous, I beg you, Killer»
The day Nami learned the truth...Oh, it was another funny letter.
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