That night, I dreamed of Earth. Not the fantastical adventures of my current existence, but mundane memories of sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor, manga volumes scattered around me, watching wide-eyed as Luffy and his crew conquered the Grand Line. I'd longed to be part of that world then—to sail with the Straw Hats, to share in their adventures and hardships.
Now, impossibly, I had that chance.
I woke before dawn, the dream still vivid. Red Queen's hologram materialized beside my bed.
"Your neural patterns indicate distress," she observed. "Are you experiencing regret about yesterday's encounter?"
"The opposite," I admitted, staring at the ceiling. "I'm considering joining him."
Red Queen's expression shifted to one of genuine concern. "That would significantly alter the timeline you've described to me."
"Maybe that's not such a bad thing."
I spent the early morning on Party's Bar's roof, watching the sunrise paint Foosha Village gold. The timeline I remembered was filled with pain—Ace's death, countless tragedies that might be preventable with my knowledge and abilities. The question wasn't whether I could change things, but whether I should.
When Luffy bounded up to me as I descended, his ever-present grin somehow seemed like an answer.
"Hey! I had the coolest idea for our next adventure!" he exclaimed, clearly having already forgotten that I hadn't accepted his invitation.
Instead of correcting him, I asked, "What exactly would your crew be to you, Luffy?"
He blinked, surprised by the serious question, then answered without hesitation: "Family. The best friends ever. My nakama." His simple honesty was disarming. "People who are free to follow their dreams while we follow the sea together!"
I made my decision. "Then I'm in."
Luffy's face split into that impossible grin. "REALLY? AWESOME!" He threw his arms around me, stretching to wrap around me multiple times in his excitement.
When Nami emerged from the bar, Luffy immediately pounced. "Nami! Kai joined my crew! Now you have to join too!"
She froze, eyes darting between us in confusion. "You what?" she asked me.
"Life's too short for regrets," I said with a shrug that didn't convey the weight of my decision. "And there's something about this rubber idiot that makes you believe anything is possible."
I could see calculations running behind her eyes—this wasn't part of her plan. She started to form a rejection when I gently took her arm and led her away from Luffy's eager ears.
"I know about Arlong," I said quietly, watching her face pale. "I know what he's done to your village, what he's forcing you to do."
"How could you possibly—"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is that Luffy and I will help you defeat him. Free your people."
Her mask cracked, just for a moment, revealing desperate hope before skepticism reasserted itself. "You don't understand. He's too strong, and if I fail—"
"He's not too strong for us. Not if we prepare properly." I held her gaze. "One month. Give us one month to train with you, then we'll go to your village together. If we can't defeat Arlong, you walk away, no obligations."
After a long moment of internal struggle, she nodded once, sharply. "One month. But I'm not joining anyone's crew."
Luffy, who had clearly been eavesdropping despite our attempt at privacy, launched himself at us with a whoop. "This is gonna be AWESOME!"
I approached our training methodically, creating a three-phase program that would maximize our growth in minimal time:
Phase one focused on basics—leveraging my enhanced strength and Luffy's natural rubber abilities while improving Nami's speed and tactical thinking. Each morning began before dawn with stretching exercises I'd adapted from Devilukean military regimens.
"I'm dying," Nami groaned on day three, sprawled on the forest clearing where we'd established our training ground.
"Actually, your cardiovascular efficiency has improved 8% already," I informed her, earning a half-hearted swat.
Luffy, naturally, treated everything as a game. "Again! Let's go again!" he would chant, seemingly immune to fatigue.
By day seven, I introduced phase two: specialized equipment. Using my daily wish creation, I fashioned gravity bracelets that could be adjusted to increase or decrease the wearer's effective weight.
"These feel weird," Luffy complained, wobbling as he adjusted to the extra resistance.
"That's the point," I explained. "Your body will adapt, making you faster and stronger when they're removed."
For Nami, I created a collapsible staff with variable weight distribution, perfect for both defense and striking vulnerable points. "I'm not a front-line fighter," she protested.
"Not yet," I agreed, "but you should be able to handle yourself when needed."
Each afternoon, we focused on practical applications—sparring, scenario training, and survival skills. Evenings were dedicated to recovery and strategy discussions. I carefully introduced the concept of Haki without naming it directly, describing it as "unlocking your innate potential to sense and influence the world around you."
"Like a sixth sense?" Nami asked, showing more interest than Luffy, who was busy trying to sense a beetle with his eyes closed.
"Exactly. All living things have this ability; most just never learn to use it."
By the third week, our daily rhythm had evolved into something comfortable yet productive. Mornings began with Nami plotting our course over breakfast—teaching Luffy and me navigational basics while refining her own skills. Luffy would hunt for lunch, bringing back increasingly impressive game as his strength and speed improved.
I spent my creation allowance on our final training tool on day twenty-two: a special room that existed in a pocket dimension, accessible through what appeared to be an ordinary door installed in our ship's hold.
"It's bigger on the inside!" Luffy exclaimed, bouncing around the expansive space that contained various training equipment, obstacle courses, and environmental simulators.
"This will let us continue training even at sea," I explained. "And provide extra living space since we're now three people on a rather small vessel."
The night before our departure, I found Nami alone on deck, studying the stars.
"Having second thoughts?" I asked, joining her at the railing.
"No." Her voice was firm. "But I've been working toward this for so long—paying Arlong off, buying my village's freedom. Now I'm changing the plan completely."
"Sometimes the direct approach is better."
She studied me in the moonlight. "You're not normal, you know that? The things you create, the things you know..." She shook her head. "Sometimes I think you're from another world entirely."
I smiled faintly. "Maybe I am."
She didn't push for clarification, just bumped her shoulder against mine. "Well, I'm glad you crashed into this one."
As we prepared to set sail the next morning, I watched Luffy bouncing impatiently at the bow, Nami checking her maps one last time, and felt a strange sense of rightness. The timeline I knew was already changing, threads of destiny rewoven into new patterns.
Whatever came next, we would face it together.