Destined for Flames (One Piece Fanfic)

Of Monsters and Men (and Tiny Reindeer)

Raya's POV

He's gone before I can make a move, rampaging off in a direction difficult for me to follow, as it involves trampling outside and at a speed not accessible by a puny little human. 

I turn to Nami as soon as Chopper's lagging tendrils of fur have disappeared from view. She takes a deep breath, recovered from her trek over here, and explains to me that, while fighting together against the pink-haired behemoth, she'd gotten tangled in his (grossly) moving locks of hair and would have suffocated if not for Chopper chomping down on what looked like a Rumble Ball.

And then he turned into that, beat the shit outta Pinky, and proceeded to chase Nami here, cause she was running to tell me what had happened.

A rough sigh escapes my lips and I fall against the wall behind me, my shoulder digging painfully into the frosty stonework. My head hurts. A throbbing began the moment I walked in on Kalifa in her goddamn porcelain tub, built to a crescendo when she'd caught me in an inescapable vice (just before Honoo helped me escape), then dulled during the fallout of my fight. Now it's back and giving me more hell than ever, and I just want to punch something.

One surprise after another, another impossible barrier catapulted into our path. If it's not disturbingly handsy enemies, it's grotesquely mutated friends. 

What's happening to my nakama...?

I abruptly spin around, my nose brushing roughly over the wall that I've braced my hands against. I press my forehead into the stone, breathing out slowly, evenly, trying to flush out the rush of adrenaline that is sparking violent ideas in my hazy mind. Clear-headed I am not in the wake of this tragic news. 

"Dammit...!" The hiss is strangled as I realize I'm too hyped to calm down using simple, everyday breathing techniques, and I mumble another curse to myself. Drastic measures seem to be in order, once a-freaking-gain.

While Nami watches on - partly concerned, partly irritated at my lack of focus - I slip one hand from the wall, curling it into a shaking fist, my nails biting perfect half-moons into my already scraped-up palm, then throw it squarely into the stone, holding back my initial urge to gift intangibility to my flesh and save myself the needless torture. Except it is needed; the pain - sharp and sudden - jolts through my mind, clearing the fog like a fickle summer breeze, and I exhale in relief.

I can think. Thank Kami I can think.

The heat of battle does nasty things to one's mind. Sometimes it's obvious, most times it's hidden behind a veil of heat and raging emotions. While during the fight you're bright and poised for anything, afterwards all you're doing is itching to continue the fight, to analyze the enemy's movements and predict outcomes and propel your body into some sort of fray.

A battle-ready mind is not what's required to solve the case of a reindeer gone manic.

Peeling my forehead from the chilled stone, I shake out my fist, scattering drops of blood across the dusty floor. They fall with pinpoint accuracy, masking the droplets thrown widly from Kalifa's beaten skin, and a small smile graces my lips as I retreat to where Nami still stands, hands cocked irritably at her hips. She's grown used to my strange behavior over the months we've been together, though I don't doubt that her tolerance for them is thin and feeble.

"Alright!" I arch my back, arms stretching out behind me, hands clasped together to suppress the jolt of shivers that ripple down the length of my aching limbs. "Let's get going" - my smile borders on maddening as she lifts a brow, inviting me to explain - "We've got ourselves a monster to hunt, don't we?" 

A flash of understanding zips through her gaze, and she's nodding grimly, waving a hand for me to follow as she starts off down a corridor, one that takes us past the gaping hole Chopper's presented to us.