It happens fast. Too fast.
One second, you’re inside the whale—confused, alert — The next— You’re slammed back against the railing.
A hand at your wrist. The other braced beside your head. Your back hits something solid.
“Don’t move.” Her voice is sharp. Commanding.
Nothing like the soft tone you’d later come to know.
Nefertari Vivi—but not Vivi yet.
Miss Wednesday.
You tense, but don’t fight it.
Mostly because— She’s close. Too close.
“You’re not with them,” she mutters, scanning your face like she’s trying to place you.
You frown slightly. “With who?”
Her grip tightens just a fraction.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“I’m not—”
“Then explain why you’re here.”
Her knee shifts, pinning you more securely in place. Just enough to keep you there.
Your breath catches. “I ended up here the same way everyone else did,” you say. “By accident.”
She studies you.Like she’s deciding whether you’re lying. Or whether you’re worth the risk. “…You’re not armed,” she notes.
“Correct.”
“Not panicking.”
“Trying not to.”
“…Strange.”
You huff slightly. “You pinned me to a wall, what reaction were you expecting?”
A flicker of something crosses her face. Almost amusement. Gone just as quickly.
“Still,” she says, leaning in just slightly closer, “I don’t trust coincidences.”
Your pulse jumps. You can feel her breath. “Then don’t,” you murmur.
Her eyes flick back to yours. Sharper now. “…You’re very calm for someone being restrained.”
You shrug as much as you can with her holding you there.
“Could be worse.”
“Could it?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly.
“You could actually want to hurt me.”
Footsteps echo. Voices.
Her expression hardens again. Back to mission. Back to control.
“Don’t move,” she repeats—lower this time. Closer.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” you murmur.
Her grip adjusts—not looser. Just… steadier.
Then— The crew. And Mr. 9. Tied up. Struggling.
“Miss Wednesday!” he shouts.
Everything freezes.
You expect her to move. To drop you. To shift focus. She doesn’t. Not immediately.
Her eyes flick to him. Then back to you.
“…You let yourself get captured,” she says flatly.
“I had it under control—!”
“No,” she cuts in. “You didn’t.”
Silence. Then— She exhales. Just slightly.
“…Fine.”
Her posture shifts.
“I surrender,” she says calmly, raising one hand.
The room goes still. Even you blink.
She still hasn’t moved. You’re still pinned. Your wrist still held. Her body still blocking yours.
You glance at her. “…You know you’re supposed to let me go now, right?”
Her eyes flick to you. “…No.”
You blink. “No?”
“They aren’t here for you.”
Her voice drops—just enough that only you hear it.
“And I haven’t decided what you are yet.”
Your breath catches. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“…It wasn’t meant to be.”
The crew is still talking. Trying to figure out what’s going on.
But it all feels… distant. Because she’s still right there.
Still holding you.
“You’re really not letting me go,” you say quietly.
“No.”
“You surrendered.”
“Yes.…But not to you.”
Her grip shifts slightly—not tighter. Just… more intentional. Like she’s aware of it now.
“You’re not dangerous,” she murmurs. “Not in the way I expected.”
“And in the way you didn’t expect?”
Her gaze lingers on you. “…I haven’t decided.”
Your heart is beating faster now. “Then maybe you should let me go so you can figure that out.”
Another pause. “…No.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “You’re stubborn.”
A flicker of something softer crosses her expression. “So are you.”
The room is settling now. Tension easing. But she hasn’t moved. Not even an inch.
“…You’re going to have to eventually,” you say.
“I know.”
“Then why not now?”
This time- She hesitates. For a second. “…Not yet.”
“Why?”
Her gaze meets yours again. More… curious.
“…Because you didn’t try to fight me.”
“That’s your reason?”
“…It’s part of it.”
“And the other part?”
She studies you for a moment longer. “…I don’t want to.”
And somehow— That’s the most disarming thing she’s said yet. She chose to keep you exactly where you are. Pinned. Close. And very much hers— At least for now.