Destined for Flames (One Piece Fanfic)

Wolves Are Not Afraid of Fire

Raya's POV

Quite obviously, I am not, in fact, the strongest member of the Straw Hats crew. I've said that before, have never claimed to be anything other than what I am: support for the real warriors. So it stands to reason that my role in this impending fight would not be the glorious bout of heroism you'd find in a young girl's fantasies (in other words, not me).

Still, I think this is going a bit too far.

I'll give credit where credit is due. It's a brilliant plan. Deserving of having its praises sung on high, possible from atop the highest point of an obscure mountain range. Something fancy and convoluted like that.

Well, just to let you all in on a little secret - I'm lying through my teeth right now.

"Damn Nami, damn the Swordsman, damn, damn, dammit!"

I twist sharply mid-air, thrusting my feet outward, uncurling my knees from their cramped position against my chest, the soles of my boots connecting just shy of painfully with the lopsided wall; I shove off in the next second, the scorch marks fanning out across the stone the only memory of my brief landing as my flames propel downwards, narrowly saving me from the behemoth wolf man who's been on my tail since this outrageous fight began.

Tumbling through the ferocity-charged air, I tuck into a ball that has me rolling across the battlefield and onto my back - just in time kick out with both flaming feet and catch Jabra's compact chest. His claws halt mere inches from the supple, clammy skin of my throat. With a guttural growl more deserving of his Devil Fruit than mine, I'm able to fling him off me and scrabble to my feet, fists raised to my chest as a futile deterrent.

"Getting tired already, Aka?"

I flash a disastrously irritable scowl over my shoulder, momentarily forgetting the imminent threat of a hulking wolf-man only ten feet away from me. My slitted eyes follow Zoro's oddly graceful movements as he whirls - akin to a serrated spinning top let loose from frenzied fingers - his swords sailing harmlessly past Kaku's elongated neck, tilted expertly to avoid the fatal blow.

"Not likely," I snarl, simultaneously raising a blistering wall of fire to shield myself from Jabra's latest charge and aggressively ignoring the stinging pain rippling up my forearm. Despite the aching absence of Honoo's familiar weight in my palm, the connection she strung between herself and Wado still holds firm, and the ancient blade's wild lust for battle is nearly as crippling as his master's, tangible as it is in the throes of war. "I'm just a little pissed that I'm low enough on the totem pole to be considered bait!"

Even as Zoro parries a strike from Kaku's abominably blocky nose - forced into drawing Wado, much to the katana's exultation - he's laughing, an unfettered, unabashed sort of laughter that severely downplays the severity of the situation and the concern bubbling up within me as a shock wave of force washes over me, the result of Kaku and Zoro's collision.

Nami and Sogeking's commentary from the sidelines doesn't help matters.

"It made a hole in the rock! That nose is better than Sogepp's!"

"Who the heck is Sogepp?! And don't make unnecessary comparisons!"

Dancing back from Jabra's claws, my flames surging up around like an instinctive, animalistic defense measure (sorta like porcupines curling up into spiky, unappetizing balls - but more demonic), I manage to snap at them, "You know, you two could be helping!"

And they just smile and give little dismissive waves, content to be bystanders while Zoro and I risk our lives in pointless battles. The wily bastards.