Namor McKenzie In One Piece

After several tense moments, Shirahoshi's sobs slowed to quiet sniffles. Her wide, tear-filled eyes studied Namor cautiously, her hands clutching the edge of her blanket like a shield. Namor remained kneeling, maintaining his distance, his expression softer now.

"I… I'm sorry if I frightened you," he said, his voice low and steady. "My name is Namor. Your father sent me here to keep you safe."

Shirahoshi tilted her head, still visibly shaken but no longer trembling. "You're… here to protect me?" she asked, her voice quivering with uncertainty.

Namor nodded, keeping his tone gentle. "Yes. Your father trusts me to guard you from harm."

She sniffled again, wiping at her tear-streaked cheeks with one delicate finger. "But… who are you? Why did Father send you?"

Namor hesitated for a moment. This was new territory for him—answering questions about himself without the arrogance he usually displayed. But he knew he had to tread carefully. "I am Namor… an Atlantean," he began. He shifted slightly, leaning back on his heels. "I come from an ancient race that lived beneath the ocean. My people were wiped out, but I hope to rebuild our kingdom."

Shirahoshi blinked, her fear gradually giving way to curiosity. "An Atlantean? I've never heard of them…" Her large eyes fixed on his gills. "Are those—are those real?"

Namor smirked faintly, tilting his head to one side so she could get a better look. "Yes, they are. Proof that I belong to the sea, just as you do."

Her gaze softened slightly, though she still kept her distance. "And… how old are you?" she asked timidly.

"I'm seventeen," Namor replied. "Though I suppose I've lived through enough to feel much older."

Shirahoshi seemed surprised. "Seventeen? That's not so much older than me… I thought you'd be ancient, like a sea king or something."

Namor chuckled lightly, the sound almost foreign to him. "I've been called many things, but a sea king? That's a first."

Her lips twitched into a hesitant smile before her curiosity got the better of her. "Why did Father ask you to protect me? Why not one of his soldiers?"

Namor's expression grew serious. "Because I'm strong. Strong enough to fight off anyone who would try to hurt you." His gaze shifted slightly, as if he were contemplating something deeper. "And because your father… believes I can be trusted."

Shirahoshi's hands loosened their grip on the blanket. "You seem… different from most people," she said softly. "But… you were so scary at first."

Namor sighed, a hint of guilt in his voice. "I'm not used to… dealing with someone like you. I didn't mean to scare you. I just… I don't know how to comfort people."

Shirahoshi tilted her head. "But you're trying, aren't you?"

He met her gaze, and for the first time, her eyes weren't filled with fear. "I am," he admitted. "Because protecting you isn't just about fighting. It's about making sure you're not afraid."

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Shirahoshi spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Namor."

Namor gave her a small nod, standing to his full height. "Get some rest, Princess. I'll be here if you need me."

Shirahoshi watched him for a moment longer before finally settling back down, her fear replaced with cautious trust. Namor turned his gaze toward the window, his sharp eyes scanning the waters outside. Despite the quiet moment, he knew his task had only just begun.

As the night deepened, Namor sat near the window, the cool temperature of the ocean flowing into the room. Shirahoshi had finally drifted back to sleep, her breathing soft and even. The peaceful moment was interrupted by a faint knock on the chamber door. Namor turned as Enel and Arlong entered quietly, careful not to disturb the slumbering princess.

Enel leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, while Arlong stood stiffly, glancing briefly at the sleeping Shirahoshi before fixing his gaze on Namor.

"Everything alright here?" Arlong asked in a low voice.

Namor nodded. "She's fine. Though I've realized I have my work cut out for me protecting her. Not just from external threats, but from her own fear."

Enel smirked, glancing at Shirahoshi. "She's massive! But… fragile? Doesn't seem like your usual problem to deal with, Namor."

Namor gave a dry chuckle. "It's… different, yes. But manageable."

Arlong stepped forward, his gaze hardening. "We didn't come all this way to play babysitter, Namor. What's the plan from here?"

Namor motioned for them to sit down, lowering his voice so as not to wake Shirahoshi. "The plan is simple. While Shirahoshi sleeps, we train. This room is big enough, and I'm not wasting a single moment. We'll focus on armament haki first."

Arlong tilted his head. "Armament? What about conqueror's haki? That's your specialty, isn't it?"

Namor glanced at the princess, his expression thoughtful. "Using conqueror's haki in her presence is out of the question. It's too volatile. The last thing I want is to startle her or risk harming her unintentionally. For now, armament will have to do."

Arlong frowned but nodded. "Fair enough. What do you have in mind?"

Namor leaned forward, his tone decisive. "The same way Enel and I trained with Boa Hancock. It was grueling, but effective. Armament haki is about hardening your will and focusing your energy into every strike. You're already strong, Arlong, but strength alone isn't enough. Haki will make you sharper, more precise. You'll need that if we're going to survive what's ahead."

Arlong grinned, baring his sharp teeth. "I'll do whatever it takes. If it means I can fight on equal footing with the humans and marines, I'll master it."

Namor smirked. "Good. Enel, you'll be doing the same. Though I know observation haki is your strength, armament will balance you out. We're not here to train for fun—we're preparing for war. Every edge we can get is essential."

Enel rolled his eyes but nodded. "Fine, fine. But don't expect me to slack on my observation haki either. It's too useful to let it stagnate."

Namor leaned back slightly, his expression firm. "We'll figure out a way to push both. For now, we'll start with the basics—striking and blocking using haki. This room will be our training ground every night."

Arlong glanced around the chamber, noting its size. "It's big enough for sparring, I'll give you that. You're serious about this, huh?"

Namor's turquoise eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Dead serious. If we're going to take on enemies like the world government or the marines, we need to be ready. No half-measures. I won't tolerate weakness in myself—or in either of you."

Arlong's grin widened. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Enel stretched lazily, his electric aura flickering faintly. "Alright, then. Let's see what you've got, Namor. I'm curious to see how much you've really learned."

Namor's smirk grew as he stood. "We'll start at dawn. For now, rest. You'll need it."

As the group settled into the chamber, a quiet determination filled the air. Namor glanced at the sleeping Shirahoshi once more, a sense of purpose anchoring him. This was just the beginning—of training, of planning, and of the path to rebuilding everything he'd lost.

…

…

Three months passed on Fishman Island, each day blending into the next as Namor, Enel, and Arlong dedicated themselves to relentless training. The royal chamber, once a quiet sanctuary for Shirahoshi, had become a makeshift battleground at night.

Arlong had improved drastically, his determination to overcome the weakness he once felt driving him forward. His armament haki had developed into a strong, reliable defense and offense, and his observation haki allowed him to anticipate movements with a sharp precision that matched his tenacity.

Enel, ever the prodigy, had soared to new heights. His observation haki had grown into something extraordinary, allowing him to see brief glimpses of the future. Though his cocky attitude remained intact, even he was beginning to respect Namor's rigorous training methods.

But for Namor, things were different. Despite his unmatched strength and natural ability, he found himself stuck. His armament haki, though powerful, refused to reach the advanced level he desired. No matter how many strikes he perfected or how much energy he poured into the practice, something wasn't clicking.

Namor sat on a coral bench in the training chamber one evening, watching Enel land an impressive haki-infused strike against a target from across the room. Arlong, sweat dripping from his forehead, was running drills with a large sword, the blade glowing faintly with haki. The two were growing stronger by the day, but Namor couldn't shake the frustration building inside him.

"What am I missing?" Namor muttered to himself, gripping his trident tightly. He stared at its intricate design, the connection to his lost kingdom reminding him of his purpose. But no answers came.

Later that night, as Namor leaned against a coral pillar near Shirahoshi's chamber, something else gnawed at his patience. A pile of letters had arrived that day, all addressed to Shirahoshi, and Namor had spent the better part of the afternoon sifting through them with a growing sense of annoyance.

"Another one?" Namor muttered, holding up the latest envelope. The scent of cheap perfume wafted from it. He tore it open and skimmed the contents, rolling his eyes at the flowery prose within.

Arlong glanced over. "Still from that Vander Decken guy?"

Namor nodded, his irritation visible. "Three months. Three months of this nonsense. Letters. Gifts. Empty promises. How many has he sent now?"

"Too many," Enel added lazily, leaning against the wall. "If you're this fed up, why not just go and deal with him? You're good at that."

Namor's fingers tightened around the letter, crumpling it into a ball. "You know what? I just might. Neptune's too passive about this. It's pathetic."

As if on cue, Neptune entered the room, his expression calm but weary. "Namor, I take it you're referring to Vander Decken again?"

Namor turned to him, his eyes sharp. "How do you stand this, Neptune? This lunatic is obsessed with your daughter, and you do nothing. He's sending her letters every day, threatening to take her away. Why haven't you stopped him already?"

Neptune sighed heavily, stroking his beard. "It's not as simple as you think. Vander Decken is dangerous, and—"

Namor cut him off, his tone blunt. "He's not dangerous. He's pathetic. Let me go and deal with him. Permanently."

Neptune hesitated for a moment, then looked at Namor with a measured gaze. "You would do that? For Shirahoshi?"

Namor shrugged. "For her, for my sanity, for everyone on this island. He's a pest, and I'm tired of dealing with pests."

After a moment of silence, Neptune nodded. "Fine. If you believe you can stop him, I'll give you my blessing. But be warned—he's more cunning than he seems."

Namor smirked, his confidence unwavering. "Cunning or not, he'll regret being such a freak."

The room fell silent as Neptune left, and Arlong and Enel exchanged glances.

"So," Enel said with a smirk. "When do we leave?"

Namor stood, gripping his trident. "Right now. The sooner this is over, the better."