MadBard
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how much more will it take (to make the nightmare go away)? by MadBard
Fandoms: One Piece (Anime & Manga)
25 Feb 2026
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Summary
They have her family, and she can’t pay enough to protect them. Bellemere, Luffy, Usopp, Nojiko, Chopper, Zoro, Robin, Sanji, Franky, Brook… one or two or all of them, staring down a gun. And it should be laughable – she’s seen several of them tank bullets before, slice them in half, bounce them right back at the barrel – but in this moment, a gunshot feels like the end of everything. A tax, a bail, a bounty, and she never has enough.
They look at her, there’s a horribly familiar laugh, and then…
Well. Then she wakes up.
(Nami has a nightmare, followed by a late night conversation in the kitchen. Bonding ensues.)
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"The forest lies still beneath the early morning light, and Zoro walks alone."
"Something about the quiet here hangs like a sword above Zoro's head, tip pressed deliberately into his scalp, just barely enough to draw blood."
"The others must have gotten lost."
(After his confrontation with Kuma, Zoro finds himself wandering an ominous dreamscape.)
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It’s halfway to morning, and Buggy is not sulking.
(After a particularly rough battle aboard the Oro Jackson, Buggy and Shanks have a conversation. It doesn't end well.)
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‘Dos fleur,’ she whispered, and two additional arms sprouted from her shoulders, elongating like the branches of a tree. She wrapped them around herself, fingernails digging into the flowery flesh. Worse things had happened, and would happen again. The stars were out tonight.
(The Devil Child is betrayed. She leaves. It's an old pattern, by now. She should be used to it, by now.)
(It's cold.)
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Summary
"A couple of days after the loops ended, Isa came to you with a thick, battered darkless cloak folded carefully and draped over his forearm. Someone had pulled it off of you after you passed out, after the Favor Tree, and you hadn’t yet found the courage to ask what had been done with it. He came in smiling sheepishly, showing you some of the near-invisible seams where he had repaired the slashes of paper and scissor attacks. The lining sang against your skin, soft and clean, his fingers raw when he handed it to you. You wondered how long it took to wash away the blood. Suddenly, you couldn’t think of anything to say.
(A few nights before, you had woken in the middle of the night to find him sitting by your bed, shoulders squared and hands tensed into fists, metal studs glinting on the knuckles. Like an enemy had tried to take something precious from him, and he was silently steeling himself to fight the Universe itself to protect it. You had wondered, half-delirious, how long it would take him to realize the enemy was looking up at him from your bed.)
Right here, right now, he holds you."
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