A Splash of Trouble

Conis and Pagaya's home was warm and welcoming, a cozy escape nestled among clouds. The Straw Hats gathered around the table, finally resting after the chaos of their arrival.

In the kitchen, Sanji moved with practiced ease beside Pagaya, helping chop vegetables and stir simmering pots. Though still wary of the unfamiliar ingredients, he adapted quickly—especially when Conis peeked in to check on them. Sanji nearly sliced his hand off trying to impress her.

Meanwhile, Luffy sat cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with a strange white shell in his hands. He grinned at Usopp across the room.

"Hey, Usopp," Luffy said into the shell, "you stink!"

The shell clicked. Then, after a short pause, it repeated Luffy's voice back—"You stink!"—and fired a small shock that zapped both Luffy and Usopp with a spark.

"AGHHH!" they screamed in unison, toppling backward.

"What the heck was that?!" Usopp yelled, smoke curling off his hair.

Conis giggled softly, stepping into the room with a tray of fresh water. "That's a Tone Dial," she explained. "It records and plays back sound. Some dials can even store wind, heat, or energy."

Robin's eyes sparkled with interest. "Fascinating. I've read of such things, but to see them in person..."

Grimm, curled on Y/N's chest in his smaller form, blinked lazily at the commotion. Y/N patted his head absentmindedly, her gaze flicking to the door.

"Shouldn't Nami be back by now?" she asked, sitting up a little.

"She's still out with the waver," Zoro said, arms crossed. "It's been a while, though."

Conis set the tray down and hesitated. "Actually... she may be heading toward Upper Yard."

Everyone turned toward her at once.

"Upper what?" Luffy asked.

Pagaya stepped in from the kitchen, wiping his hands. "Upper Yard. It's a forbidden land in Skypiea—considered sacred ground, the home of 'God.' Anyone who enters without permission is judged... harshly."

Chopper's eyes widened. "Nami doesn't know that!"

⸻

Out near the edge of the White-White Sea, Nami stood on the waver, looking out across the misty, forested mass ahead of her.

Upper Yard.

She hadn't meant to come this far, but the current had carried her. And something about the place felt... strange.

She reached to turn back—then froze.

Voices. Nearby.

"...we'll move at dawn."

"If we strike from the west, their defenses will fall."

Nami crouched, heart racing, barely breathing. Whoever they were, they weren't from Angel Island.

And they definitely weren't friendly.

⸻

Back at the house, the crew quickly finished dinner—Sanji barely pausing to eat as he insisted on helping Pagaya with cleanup—and began forming a plan.

They had to find Nami.

And fast.