Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, obviously, but I do own my original characters and content contained within. (you will also only see this disclaimer once.)

Author's note: Alright, so shaking off the nerves and finally ready to start posting again! It has been a very long time since I have written and published anything online, but I have been working on this story since early 2017—and thanks to Razbliuto who is absolutely right about it being time to take a leap of faith, I am finally posting it. So, I hope you all enjoy what I have been working on. I have a long outline and a good amount of this story pre-written, fairly (super) over-edited, but with no clear ending in mind yet and I hope you enjoy it! Without further ado, I present, Ishi Ishi no Mi.

(All future AN's will be at the bottom of each chapter.)

Nyiji let slip a heavy sigh as she worked over the dirty, food smeared dishes in the small basin before her, quickly covering the slip up with a cough as she covered her mouth and eyed the small galley of pirates to see if she had been caught. Most of the men were occupied with their own meals or conversations, but the few eyes that had caught wind of her presence stared back at her, catching her glance and making her stomach turn. She hated drawing attention to herself aboard the ship of unfamiliar pirate mercenaries. She hurried to scrub the last bit of solidified gravy from the white plate, even going so far as to scratch and pick at it with her short nails to make the job go faster.

Nyiji let out a yelp of surprise when two hands enclosed around her waist and hauled her up into the air with ease. She was swept to face the crew of mercenaries all laughing and cat calling her situation. A lump formed in her throat. Beating against the hands that held her did little effect. "Put me down!" she ordered with a shaky voice.

The man spun her in his hands until they faced each other and grinned with a set of yellowed teeth. A long mean scar ran down the front of his face, nearly splitting his skin in two. He looked horrific. "Release me!" she belted once more at his hands.

"Come on Puppy, we just wanted a little peek at you!" the man chuckled. His shipmates bellowed their laughter behind them, someone even slapping their knee as if the scene were too hilarious to endure. "We saw you peek first, you know Puppy, and it's not fair to keep us from having a look ourselves."

Nyiji steeled herself as one of the man's hands slipped down the birth of her hip to squeeze her bared thigh that stuck out from beneath a pair of shorts that afforded her little coverage. The man was grinning like a fool as he fondled her flesh. Bringing one knee back to her stomach, Nyiji defended herself and kicked back her heel at the man's groin. She tumbled to the galleys floor in a matter of moments and the once laughing crew fell silent. Eyes spun back to the front of the galley where their captain, a tall man as big as a stone wall stood in the doorway with a frown set in his brow. He examined the scene and scratched at his cheek with one sausage-sized finger. "W'ats happenin' ere?" his voice boomed.

Nyiji tumbled backwards, sent flying to her captain's feet as a fist hit her square in the face. Pain exploded immediately and rattled her brain. Shielding her face with both hands, a protective gesture, she curled into a fetal position and tried to regain her senses. There was noise coming from all around her but it was drowned out by a ringing in her ears that overtook her senses. Pinching her nose, Nyiji drew her hand away to find blood smearing her palm. She registered her Captain shouting with the men in the galley as they tried to defend their actions along with the man that had initially touched her. Torn away from staring at her bloody hands, Nyiji was yanked up to her feet by her Captain who said nothing, appearing calm and unaffected by her state. She stood by him as she gathered herself, watching and waiting for him to comfort her like he used to, but the actions never came. Offering a small curtsy at her Captain, as he had once told her he enjoyed the action, she then fled the scene.

Out on the deck that was all but empty, exempting a few men tending their stations of the sails, Nyiji found a quiet isolation. She hurried up to the crow's nest, a spot she had named as shelter ever since they had accepted to sail with this crew of hands-y mercenaries. Halfway up the rope ladder that wasn't very sturdy, practically ready to fray into an unpleasant snap, she paused to hang and stare at the sea. She held onto the rope with one hand as her body floated in the air, only connected by a weak grasp and a tiny boot. The wind blew through her hair and caressed her face like an old friend, promising smooth sailing. Her lids fell closed to enjoy the moment and to wash away her terrible evening of dish washing. Climbing the rest of the ladder she found a place to rest in the small circular space of wood, legs dangling between the small railing's gaps. Thinking of the mercenaries below brought a frown to her lips, dark memories resurfacing as she recalled just why they had taken on the strangers into their ranks. It had been a desperate decision made by their Captain to help aid in their escape from an island of hell that had taken the lives of many of Nyiji's shipmates. Only a handful of them had survived, herself and her Captain counted amongst the numbers. Then the mercenaries had joined.

Nyiji pressed a hand to her breast to steel her pounding heart, hating how the memories and thoughts physically affected her still, and wiped at the blood she now felt sticking to her upper lip. Bumping her nose made her eyes prickle with tears, the pain still fresh and stinging but she was determined to clean herself up as best she could without a mirror to aid her. When the pool of men exited the galley below, freed from whatever lecture they had been given (if one had been given at all) she did her best to ignore them. In the past her captain would have thrown the man starboard into the sea for daring to lay a hand on her, but things had changed. Now the crow's nest and its treacherous ladder were her only safety net.

She spent the rest of the evening high up in the air, watching the seas change with the weather. When the ship had finally fallen silent to the night, she snuck back down and headed towards the small bathroom located at the back end of the galley to clean herself up. Tucked behind the small kitchen she often worked in was the washroom, no bigger than a broom closet and equipped with a sink no bigger than a bucket. A small circular mirror hung from a tiny wire, coated in grime that needed to be wiped away before she could use it to examine the damage done to her face. Her expression grew more sour each time she twisted her face left, then right and then back again, examining the bruise from all angles. A deep purple color had already blossomed across her nose and cheeks practically taking over her lower eyelids, quite the stark contrast to her milky white skin. Though it was swollen, she deduced her nose wasn't broken as it appeared to have kept its straight shape, but she wasn't a doctor nor did she know much off-hand medical knowledge. If possible, should they reach a civil island, she supposed she would have to have it checked out by a doctor…

Her thoughts strayed instantly to their late doctor and first-mate, Owens. He had been a good man: cheerful, very sarcastic and always there for even the most minor of cases. He had dedicated his life to their Captain and his goal all while inspiring everyone around him.

"Nyiji? Are you in here?" a voice called from the front of the galley.

Poking her head out from the tiny washroom Nyiji's eyes fell to the ships cook, a lithe man with slicked back black hair and a slowly lengthening beard that hadn't been shaved off like usual. "Killian." she breathed his name.

He smiled crookedly when he spotted her and swung his arms open to catch her as she darted at him between the galley's tables. Stroking her long black hair that had been pulled back into a loose braid, Killian gently set his chin atop her head and sighed. "Cap'n was real quiet tonight. I knew somethin' was up."

Nyiji sighed at the cook's admission, shoulders slumping in defeat. She wasn't much of a fighter, she knew, but she hated that she couldn't even protect herself aboard her own ship. And now she knew that Killian felt the same way. But he couldn't be around all the time. Especially not since the captain had him running more work outside the kitchen to pick up the slack of the new crew. Usually this would have been the job of the first mate, but since the post had been left unfulfilled, Killian had the duty.

Clicking his tongue, Killian tilted Nyiji's head back to examine her pretty face now marred with unnatural color. "W'ich one o' 'em did this?" he asked, his tone level.

Staring at his blue eyes lined by thick full lashes, Nyiji decided to change the topic rather than risk another scene for their captain to chance upon. Scratching his beard, she commented, "You really need a shave. How will you catch the girls with those pretty looks when it's all covered up in that bush?"

Chuckling and withdrawing his face from her reach, he let her sway the conversation away from her injury. "But I only need to catch you, Pup. And I think the beard ain't hurtin' my chances."

They shared a brief laugh then let the silence stagnate. Killian, who practically swam in his oversized shirt tugged at his collar and swept around her to head straight for the kitchen. It had felt like years since he had the opportunity to return to his home and dabble in his love affair of food. Since the captain had given him so many new tasks, Nyiji had taken his place in filling the stomachs of the crew. He wondered if she missed charting and navigating their course.

"How about I whip you up yer' favorite? Bet you are starved!" Killian knew just from the look on her face that she hadn't eaten after serving earlier. She always followed a routine that left her needs for last.

"That would be terrific!" she smiled wide, showing her teeth before wincing in pain at the action. A quick hand to her nose made Killian frown.

Setting about heating up a frying pan with a spoonful of butter, he moved effortlessly around the counters to collect and prepare a dish. Green onions were chopped, eggs cracked and whisked into a bowl, and a small block of cheese (the last of it on the ship, that he figured she deserved more than anyone) was shredded into a hand sized cheese grater and then stirred into the mixture of eggs. Setting out a few small tomatoes, just barely ripe from the vine, he cut into their delicate flesh and chuckled when Nyiji leaned into his space to watch with delight. She loved tomatoes.

"Cap'n said the next island is a day out at best. Bishop says four." The knife cut through the halved tomato, separating it into four small cubes. "I know that Bishop knows these waters better than we do, but I can't 'elp but worry lately. 'e keeps changin' 'is mind, like the islands movin'. Cap'n should o' left the job to you."

Nyiji bobbed her head in reply and snuck herself a cube of tomato when Killian turned his back to pour the eggs into the sizzling pan. He smiled when he turned back around and noticed her cheeks filled like a chipmunk. Casually he grabbed another tomato from the fridge and resumed cutting it to take the place of the pieces being stolen away.

"I think I'll pass some work off, next few days. Come back 'ere, feed the masses. Give you a rest?"

Nyiji swallowed another mouthful of the sweet and tangy fruit and took a moment to answer. She would love a break from those mercenaries, especially after recent events but she also knew how the captain would react should Killian push his duties off to another. They had all been traveling on a thin wire since they had lost their original crew, and Killian now being the oldest member with the most seniority (even though he was quite young) meant the captain needed someone he could trust. "No thank you, Kill. I've already taken your job; don't need anymore 'upgrades' to this background."

It was obvious as soon as she said it that he didn't like her sarcastic reply, and that meant she was fighting a losing battle. Killian never cared much for repercussions once his mind had been made up. A swift hand sprinkled the chopped onions over the golden flat pancake of eggs, evenly spreading them throughout the omelet. It smelled delicious as the cook flipped the omelet over with skill then when ready, folded it in half. Cheese oozed from inside, its cheddar smell hitting Nyiji with full force. Her mouth was watering as she was served the omelet with a dollop of ketchup on the side of the plate for added flavor. He had been cooking for the woman for years now, but his talent for even the simplest recipes still amazed her.

"Eat up, 'fore it gets cold." he instructed with a wave of his hand before proceeding to clean up his instruments.

Nyiji hungrily ate the entire plate, until she was near bursting. The plate then too was added to the chefs cleaning assembly. She noted there were still some dishes left behind from earlier, Killian already elbows deep into scrubbing them. Guilt shadowed her face and her bangs swept down to afford her cover. Fingers twisted into the braid that hung over her shoulder and lay down into her lap.

"Thinking about a trim?"

Startled Nyiji looked up at the chef, her fingers stalled in the bundle of ink colored hair. "Oh no. I'm just tired. I think I will head to bed."

Leaning his weight back against the basin behind him, arms folded across his flat chest he eyed the woman before settling for a brisk nod. He watched her leave before he resumed cleaning and Nyiji exited the galley to feel the full force of heavy winds hit her small body. The sails were flapping wildly in the air currents, and the hull creaked loudly as it began to experience the turbulent seas. Nyiji found herself looking around for Bishop, the strange man who had taken her position as navigator for the ship. He had joined when the other mercenaries had, in fact he had been the one to bring many of the other mercs' on-board in the first place, but the way he had appeared to them in the middle of the night—already aware of the poor and desperate crew, and prepared to offer his services—Nyiji couldn't help but feel wary of the man. The minute he had joined, her captain had become so reclusive, rarely joining them for meals or sparring with Nyiji as he used to. He always thought she needed to learn better defensive skills (and now she wished she had paid better attention in their lessons).

Though Bishop was surrounded in an air of mystery, Nyiji had already seen proof in his skills, having navigated them through sea kings and rocky patches. She wanted to trust that the man knew what he was doing, even if their arrival dates of an island kept changing, she was still sure he would get them there safe. On a personal overview of the man however, Nyiji would first complain about his state of dress (he was always wearing these insanely puffy feminine blue shirts and pants that had padding in the hips to give him an awkward hour glass shape) then, she would complain about his tact. He had none. But for a man who stood out amongst the crew, he was nowhere to be found. Not even up at the helm.

'Why wasn't he out here, watching the seas, protecting the ship and navigating?' She thought.

With an eye on the horizon, Nyiji paused a moment before proceeding up to the crow's nest. The rope ladder moved in the gathering force of the wind and proved difficult to climb, but she eventually made it to the top at a slow pace. Peeking out at the ocean and deciding to spend the rest of the night on watch since Bishop was nowhere to be found, Nyiji settled in. She was a true seeker of the sea and determined not to allow anyone to place them in jeopardy again—even if it meant a little lack of sleep on her part.

When the night reached its darkest and sleep began to win the battle, the seas changed once again into an eerie calm. The moon hung high in the sky, looking down at the ship through a magnifying glass, providing just enough light to see a few feet ahead. Nyiji unfastened a spyglass that had been clipped to her shorts belt, ran a thumb over the engraving 'E.P.' and sat up onto her haunches to peek over the railing. Though she couldn't see far into the night, she swung the spy glass left and right as she examined the black Sea. She couldn't even see below its surface, only able to catch the moons reflection in the glassy magnified eye. Lazily throwing one arm over the railing to rest her cheek upon her limb as a cushion, a rather uncomfortable position when crouching, Nyiji let the spyglass balance in the palm of her hand. Its metal had lost its shine many years ago, but the glass had been kept well-polished and loved. "Guess it's just you and me tonight, dad. Wonder what this next island will bring?"

A flicker of light caught her attention from far off in the distance, appearing to rotate in and out of sight from within a lighthouse's cage. "Land!" She heard herself shout in excitement, her voice easily carried down to the men below. "LAND!"

A shuffle of bodies collected around the base of the mast, watching as the excited woman slipped down the ladder and landed before them. "What direction?" One crewmember spoke up, his hand tucked in his mess of blonde curls.

"East," she answered as she briskly walked towards the cabin doors, "we need to wake the captain."

"That won't be necessary, Puppy. We will alert him when we dock." Bishop.

Nyiji clenched her fists at the man's appearance and silently forbid herself from asking what gave the man the right to decide when to wake their Captain. Trust. She had to learn to trust his guidance and ignore his arrogance.

"I t'ink now s'good as ever." They heard Killian's voice call.

Bishop's face soured when he laid eyes on the greasy haired chef who was exiting the galley. Lifting his long nose in the air, he cast a blue menacing gaze at Killian. For one who wore such flamboyant feminine clothing, Nyiji thought, he sure could pull off the aura of an intense overlord.

"As I was explaining to our resident Puppy we will wake him when we dock. We don't need to disturb his rest for nothing."

"We don't even know what land we are 'eading towards, we need to prepare!" Killian rebutted. A few of the sailors around them grumbled in agreement.

Bishop flicked at the end of his shoulder length dirty-blonde hair and let out a click of his tongue against his teeth. His fingers glittered in jewels and ring bands of gold, but Killian had already figured out the subtle threat behind them when the other man casually flashed them up as if he was examining his nails. Bishop would not hesitate to fight dirty against any who opposed him, even for such an issue as this, and those fine rings had split more than just skin on other days.

Concerned that another fight would break out, Nyiji put herself between the two men and stole Killian's attention. "It's fine. We will just wait for the Captain to wake up, we can be amicable."

Killian frowned and dug his hands deep into the front pockets of his pants. A few men surrounding them grumbled and voiced their own opinions, yet Nyiji stood firm between the two men until they finally gave up on each other's gaze. Bishop headed up to the helm, his boots clicking against the decks wood and Killian stuck a finger up at his retreating back.

"O' don't gimme that look," Killian started when Nyiji leveled him with her silver eyes; "You and I both know the Cap'n won't take kindly to receiving this information late." Turning on his heel to stare up at the stairs that led to the helm, Killian felt his lips pull into a deeper frown. "He doesn't make the decisions around here."

Nyiji gently rest a hand on her friends elbow and stepped into his side. "It will be nice to rest on land again though."

The raven-haired man laughed beside her and strung his arm across her tiny shoulders. Smacking a wet kiss to her temple he then walked away laughing, leaving her behind slightly bemused from his actions. Casting a fleeting look at the cabin door that sat to the side of stairs that led up to the helm, Nyiji decided it would be best to leave the situation as it was and chose instead to wander the deck until light began to blossom from the water's edge. As the sun rose a clearly defined island began to become clear. She could make out small houses built out of brick and wood, all painted different bright pastel color and beautiful stretches of white sandy beach. Tall trees sprouted out from the earth on the shore line, with spiky leaves that weighed down the tree so much they curved down in various angles. It was beautiful and welcoming. As others took in the sights themselves, the ship came alive with excitement. They had been traveling the waters for too long.

A door swung open as the commotion from the men rose and light shone down to illuminate the great wall of a man as their Captain stepped out from his chambers—Rook Alistair, a blonde, bearded half giant. His took a moment to gaze over the crew before Killian leapt to his side to explain the situation. Nyiji couldn't make out their conversation but knew that the chef was probably voicing his irritation about their new navigator. Their Captain would nod every so often, his blue eyes shut as he listened and when Killian appeared to be done talking, Alistair gestured with a giant hand for the chef to call the crew close for instructions, signaling a second after with a crooked finger for Nyiji to join them.

As she neared her captain, Bishop arrived with a haughty sway of his own. A smile was stretched across his face as he shared news of their arrival, explaining what details of the island he knew. "The locals call the island Moorham. Typical summer weathers, very rare to get storms out here so sailing out won't be a problem. There's a low military presence as well."

"Any shipwrights ya' know of?"

Bishop bobbed his head in reply and placed his chin in his hand for a moment of thought. "None personally. Heard of a few offhand though."

The captain nodded and focused his attention on the gathering crew members. With a wave of his hand he immediately grabbed everyone's attention and spoke in a deep voice, "Fi'rst priority be ship repairs! I expect no trouble from any o' you or gettin' paid 'll be the last thing ye' get!"

A few grumbled but otherwise joined in the 'Ayes!' with the rest. "Ah right! Disperse! I want us dock'd in tha' hour!"

Nyiji stayed close as others went back to their work stations. Bishop remained behind as well, his eyes on the small woman. His stare made her feel a little unnerved. She turned her attention back to her captain, intent on keeping herself strong under the other man's wandering eye.

"Bishop, we'll talk la'er," Alistair shooed the man away, "I 'ave business with Nyiji 'ere."

Bishop looked hesitant to leave them alone but acquiesced to the order, leaving to the ships helm again. Once alone Nyiji immediately brightened up, smiling and bouncing closer to her Captain to better converse with him. "Sir, isn't it exciting? The island looks so tropical!"

"Pup," he started, "I 'ave somethin' I need ya to do."

Nyiji felt her mouth pull into a frown as she finally took in her Captain's appearance without interruption. Though large and imposing, his haggard face was now set in a constant stoic expression. His once booming personality was now restrained and serious. He looked physically weathered, and though she knew after the horrors they had experienced that he should look this way, it still startled her. He had changed, become introverted. No longer did the man divulge his secrets with her, his worries and his joys, but now she felt kept at arm's length.

"Of course, Alistair." Nyiji winced when her Captain's expression turned sharp from his first name being used. "What do you need done, Captain?"

Ushering her to follow he led her through the cabin door that took them down a small staircase that opened up to the crew's cots, then all the way to the back of the room where his own quarters were located. Once inside his room, Nyiji took a deep breath to welcome in the smell of parchment and rum and to rid herself of the scent of sweat and human BO that clung to the cots in the other room. It had been a long time since she had last entered her captain's quarters, and the changes were quite drastic. He used to obsess over keeping it tidy, everything in its place, but now his mattress was left bare, covers strewn on the floor beside it. A spilled oil lamp had been knocked over and just left behind, currently soaking into the bedding on the floor. His desk that once sat at the far left of the room had been pushed closer to the door, nearly tripping her when she first walked in. She didn't even want to mentally comment on the scrapes she noticed on the floor that were obviously created from the desks continuous movement of barricading the door when he was locked away inside. His personal effects (scrolls of parchment, casks of rum, and beautiful glasses among many other items) had been left on the floor nearest his dining table, as if they had been pushed to the ground on purpose rather than accidentally knocked off. Nyiji even spotted broken bits of glass from one that had shattered. On the dining table all of the captain's weapons had been laid out: rapiers, pistols and daggers. Even the photos that hung on his walls had been torn apart. One that hung over his bed had even been split down the middle, leaving a portion to hang over, revealing a silver safe built and slotted into a hole in the wall.

"Oh Alistair!" she gasped when the door was closed behind them. "What the hell happened?"

He gave her only a grunt in reply, clearing his throat afterwards as he picked up a chair that had been left on its side near the table. He gestured once to the resettled chair for her to seat herself then moved to tear off the last bit of paper that covered the silver safe over his bed. Nyiji took the seat and patiently waited as he spun the dial this way and that before popping its door off with a quiet click as the lever was pulled.

"Can ye get tha'?" he waved his hand out as his head remained hidden behind the safe's door.

Nyiji turned in her seat to try and see what he wanted her to pick up but was unable to ascertain just what he was referring to amongst the mess. When she failed to respond, Alistair pulled back from the safe with his hands full of coins and jewels and took them to the table where they were unceremoniously dropped. Some coins rolled off the table, others clicked against each other as they were left in a heaping pile. Grabbing a small burlap sack and throwing it into her lap, Alistair returned to the safe to collect another item. When he turned back to face her, Nyiji was already half finished with scooping the beli and jewels into a sack, completely focused on her task and ignorant to the item in his hands.

"I need ya tah' keep 'old o' those until the shipwrights paid... and this."

Nyiji looked up from the sack to watch her Captain's hand unfurl and reveal a small strange yellow fruit. There were curves and little prickles sticking off of the thing in all directions, somewhat reminding her of a pineapple, yet holding the shape of a tomato. "Wait!" she gasped as she got to her feet in shock, "Captain! Is that a devil fruit?"

She was across the room in seconds, her hands wrapping around the prickly thing. It turned in her hands, around and around as she examined it. Disbelief filled her as she wondered how on earth he could have obtained it and kept it secret all this time that they had sailed together. Their eyes met when Nyiji finally looked away from the fruit. His blue irises were filled with guilt and sadness as he watched her, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He looked resigned to some dark fate, and the thought alone made Nyiji feel like throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"Alistair, how did you get this?" she whispered, now acutely aware of the silence between them.

"Don't be askin' me tha' Pup. Jus' keep it safe. No one can know ye' 'ave it."

Nyiji looked down once more at the fruit in her hands and swallowed the lump in her throat. When had she become so parched?

"Captain... what am I supposed to do with this?"

Alistair seated himself on his mattress and scratched at his beard. He toyed with the idea of telling her the truth, of telling her that the danger they thought they left behind wasn't really gone but in fact chasing them, that all of it was his fault, but it really only took him a second to throw the idea out. Nyiji was great at keeping secrets, as great as she was at navigating, but this was not a burden she was meant to carry.

"Take it to tha' bottom o' tha' sea if ya 'ave to. Don't let a soul 'ave it."

Nyiji pursed her lips and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You aren't going to eat it?"

For the first time since they entered the room, he laughed. It was full and cheerful, just like old times, but it didn't last very long. Pulling his tricorn off the top of his head and laying it in his lap, Alistair shook a hand through his own dirty-blonde locks and sighed. He pointed then at the small porthole where they caught a glimpse of the islands docks for the first time. She could see some of their recently hired crewmembers wandering the docks, moving amongst workers that were hauling cargo and discussing payment for any boats that planned to stay docked for a period of time. Nyiji knew this was his way of changing the topic, but she couldn't quite understand why.

"Alistair. Tell me what is going on." She pressed.

A fire blossomed in his eyes then. Alistair stood to his feet and glared down at her as she shrunk back into her chair. "Captain Rook. Tha's my title, Pup. I expect ya to remember tha'."

Nyiji felt as if she had been slapped by the formality he was pressing on her. Blinking back tears she nodded at her Captain and slipped from the chair to stand. At least giving herself a little more height to his made her feel a little better, even if she was drastically shorter than the towering man. Tucking the devil fruit into the burlap sack she curtly nodded and escaped from the bedroom at once. When the door shut behind her she felt the weight come down on her and completely sour her mood.

Kicking once at the floor helped settle these emotions, helped her gather the items up into her arms and helped her make the short trip back to her bunk that had been shoved behind a corner wall that stuck out for privacy. A curtain helped close the area in, maintaining privacy from the men on-board for Nyiji and the only other female crewmate, Cyrus—who spent ninety percent of her time manning the helm as of late (Nyiji had guessed the reason for this was in fact Bishop) and so this afforded Nyiji more time alone at her bed. Shoved opposite the bed was a thick dresser that left a few inches of space free between the bed for both women to move in and out. This usually made it a challenge to access personal items and clothing, but she had gotten plenty of practice with this. Closing the curtain to secure her privacy, Nyiji sunk to the floor and opened the drawer that belonged to her, letting the sack filled with coins and fruit fall to her side. The yellow peered out at her from within the bag, staring at her as she pulled out a fresh outfit and a small black satchel that had a clasping lock hanging off its strap. It was the perfect thing when she needed to keep anything hidden on her person as it attached to a garter belt and laid relatively flat against her hip, which was easily covered up with a pair of shorts and a lengthy tank shirt. Rolling up a pair of nylons that stretched up into a half diamond shape on her upper thigh, after her clothes were changed, Nyiji secured them to her garter belt and pulled back on her only pair of boots. It was time to explore a brand-new island.