The desert sun beats down on you as you sprint across the dunes, the familiar, furious shout of “Straw Hat!” ringing in your ears. Hina. Even before you joined the Straw Hats, she was there, a constant shadow, the Garp to your Roger. Today, you’re just trying to reach Arabasta with the Straw Hats to beat a Warlord and help a princess, and she’s just doing her patrol. It’s the oldest dance in the Grand Line.

Her cage-arms shoot out, but you dodge, the sand giving way beneath you both. You tumble, a tangle of limbs and curses, rolling down a dune and crashing through a hidden stone archway into cool, dark silence.

You land in a heap, her weight on top of you, her pink hair in your face. Before either of you can snarl an insult, a smooth, chilling voice cuts through the gloom. “My, my. What interesting guests.”

Miss All-Sunday smiles from a raised dais. A stone door slams shut behind you with a final thud. Trapped.

Hina pushes off you, her glare shifting from you to the Baroque Works agent. “Hina will take you both into custody.”

“A lovely sentiment,” All-Sunday replies, activating a hidden mechanism. The floor begins to shift, massive stone blocks grinding. “But you’ll need to work together to survive this little puzzle. Consider it… a test.”

You look at Hina. She looks at you, her usual cool dignity replaced by stark frustration. The ground splits between you. You have a choice: die here, or help your rival.

A cage-arm lashes out, not at you, but to catch a falling block aimed at your head. You don’t thank her. Instead, you grab her, pulling her back from a sudden pit. Your hands brush—her glove, your calloused fingers—a spark of something entirely new in the ancient dust.

“Left!” you yell.

“Hina sees it!” she barks back, weaving her barriers to create a path.

For the first time, you’re not fighting against each other. You’re moving together, a frantic, perfect sync. And in that desperate, shared rhythm, you feel the old chase transform into something else entirely.