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It was late at night in a quiet neighborhood less than five hundred meters from Leo's apartment.
Inside her room, Nami was lying on her bed, still in her pajamas after her evening shower. She had buried her head in a pile of stuffed animals like an ostrich, her youthful body perfectly still. The only sign of her inner turmoil was the rhythmic kicking of her feet against her duvet.
"Nami."
Captain Morgan, still in his Marine uniform, stood at her door. He knocked lightly. "Want a cup of hot cocoa?"
"No, I'll get fat," came the muffled, weak reply from the bed.
Morgan chuckled. "Isn't that the same girl who once told me she wanted to live in a castle made of chocolate and cake?"
"Dad, don't always bring up things from when I was a kid!" Nami grumbled, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "Especially when…" She trailed off, stopping herself mid-sentence.
Morgan sighed, finishing her thought for her. "Especially when Leo is around, right?"
"No. He already knows all my embarrassing stories anyway," she said, but her tone was quieter now, and the stuffed animals she was hiding under began to tremble slightly.
"Nami." Morgan took a deep breath, as if making the most important decision of his life. His voice was firm and solemn when he spoke again. "If you really like that boy, Leo, then you should go and tell him how you feel. I'll support you, no matter what."
Inside the room, the trembling stopped. After three seconds of silence, the stuffed animals were thrown aside.
"Dad, what are you talking about?!"
Nami shot up from the bed, her face flushed a furious red, either from being buried under the pillows or from being called out so directly. It looked like steam might start pouring from her ears. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, sticking strands of her orange hair to her cheeks.
"I don't… like Leo!" she stammered indignantly. As a teenage girl, her first instinct was to deny it, but the slight pause in her rebuttal made it sound weak and unconvincing.
"Alright, alright. I was just saying if," Morgan soothed from outside the door. He'd made his point. Just then, the Transponder Snail on his wrist began to ring.
He immediately answered it. "This is Captain Morgan. Report."
Knowing it was an emergency, Nami instantly quieted down.
"What?" Morgan's already serious face grew even more solemn as he listened to the report. "You're saying a woman in strange armor fell from the sky and robbed a Berry transport truck?"
He paused, listening. "Understood. I'm not far from your position. I'm on my way!"
He ended the call and quickly called through the door, "Nami, I have to go out. You stay here."
"Okay. Be safe, Dad," she replied.
"I will." With a nod, Morgan hurried out of the house.
Inside her room, the blush on Nami's face began to fade. She thought about what her father had just said. "A woman who fell from the sky?" she muttered to herself. "Could it be a Devil Fruit user?"
Her frown deepened, a new worry for her father's safety taking root. People with powers beyond ordinary humans were rare, but they weren't non-existent.
She knew that better than anyone. Because she was one of them.
Nami quickly went to her closet, pushed aside her clothes, and opened a hidden panel at the back. It revealed her secret.
It was a strange, tight-fitting uniform, primarily black and white. The uniform was white from the neck to the chest, but from there down, it was black, covering her torso, hips, and legs. It came with a white hood that could cover her entire head, which had an extra, stylishly oversized cap attached to it. The inside of the cap was lined with a black and red spiderweb pattern.
Alongside the bizarre spider-suit and hood was a pair of green, low-top athletic shoes.
Without a second thought, Nami took out the uniform, hood, and shoes. She put on the suit, her pajamas and undergarments falling to the floor in a heap.
Dressed in her spider-suit, Nami placed her palms on the floor and dropped into a low crouch. She moved like a predator, a silent spider, making no sound. She turned the radio on her desk to a music channel to create the illusion that she was still in her room, then slid open her window. After a quick glance at her closed door, she gripped the windowsill and launched herself out into the night.
Nami's apartment was on the tenth floor, a good thirty meters above the ground.
Her perspective flipped as the night-shrouded city was reflected upside down in her eyes. She plummeted for a moment before twisting in mid-air. With a flick of her wrist, a thin, white web shot out, sticking perfectly to the eaves of the building next door. She pulled on the resilient web, adjusting her angle, and swung out into the night, following the sound of the Marine patrol car sirens on the street below.
…
At a crossroads on the opposite street, chaos had erupted. Car alarms blared, and panicked passersby screamed and ran for cover. A large transport truck, meant for carrying Berries from the central bank, was stopped in the middle of the road.
The roof of the truck, supposedly bulletproof, had a massive, crater-like dent in it. A figure wearing strange armor and holding a vintage sword was lying amidst the wreckage. Green Berry bills were scattered everywhere, thrown from the broken cabin by the force of the impact.
This "strange woman," of course, was Leo.
It was an easy mistake to make. The armor he wore was clearly designed for a woman, and the long, flowing silver hair almost sealed the deal.
"Oh my god!"
"Who… who are you?"
Two heavily armed Marine soldiers stood near the truck. They were stunned for a few seconds before shakily raising their rifles and shouting. The constant trembling of their legs gave away their terror.
If I told them I accidentally fell from my sixteenth-floor apartment, would they believe me?
Leo considered it, but if he spoke, his voice would give away the fact that he was, in fact, a boy. Besides, no one would believe him anyway. Normal people don't just survive falls from that height, let alone walk away without a scratch.
So, after less than half a second of deliberation, Leo made his choice.
He ignored the Marines aiming their guns at him. In a single, fluid motion, he flipped to his feet, leaped off the roof of the truck, and bolted down the road, determined to escape the scene.
His speed was now incredible, his movements leaving afterimages in his wake. By the time the Marines reacted, he was already dozens of meters away.
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