They found you on the 16th day.

Luffy had torn through their ship with a rage the crew had never seen before. The air had smelled like blood and smoke by the time he got to you.

You were in a locked room, curled in a corner, eyes wide and blank. You didn’t speak when he called your name. You didn’t even flinch.

You were alive. But something in you had been broken.

Back on the Sunny, things weren’t the same.

You didn’t eat much. You didn’t laugh. You didn’t smile, not even at Luffy’s dumb jokes or Chopper’s worried little gifts.

And the worst part? You couldn’t stand to be touched.

If anyone’s hand so much as grazed your arm, your whole body would freeze, shoulders locked, breath held like it might choke you.

Once, Sanji gently tapped your back to get your attention—and you backed away like he’d burned you. That look in your eyes haunted the crew for days.

You didn’t tell them what happened. You didn’t have to.

They saw it in your silence. In the way your gaze had gone from bright to hollow. In the way Luffy stopped reaching for you like he used to, even though he wanted to—because now, he was scared he’d hurt you just by being near.

You’d been gone for sixteen days.

And whatever they did to you during that time… it left marks no one could see. But everyone felt.

One night, Luffy sat outside your room, his back against the wall, arms on his knees.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t try to go in.

He just said, softly through the wood, “I’m here. Even if you don’t want me to be. I’ll still be here.”

Inside, you stared at the ceiling. The dark didn’t scare you anymore.

You’d seen worse. Felt worse.

But part of you… still listened to his voice through the wall.

Because even if you didn’t say it— Some part of you didn’t want to be alone.