Raki didn't know how to answer Uta right away.
But as for becoming Arton's woman… it wasn't like she hadn't already steeled herself.
For her, the most important thing was dealing with Enel. If Enel could really be taken down, then of course she was willing to give herself up for it.
Though maybe calling it a sacrifice wasn't quite right.
Arton was a pretty damn good man. Becoming his woman… might actually be nice.
Sure, he played a little wild.
Raki's mind flashed back to the scenes in her diary: using every part of her body to clash with Arton in those shaless, breath-stealing battles. The heat in her cheeks deepened, and she even felt her mouth go dry.
Uta's eyes were sharp as a needle. One look at Raki and she knew exactly where her thoughts had wandered.
"Hehe… so our mature big sister has a shy side too," Uta teased, grinning. "Now I'm getting really curious what kind of stuff you've got in your diary."
"Uta… please don't tease anymore," Raki mumbled, face burning as she glanced at Arton up ahead.
"Okay, okay—no more teasing," Uta said, still smiling. "As long as you've got the resolve, that's what matters. Then we'll be able to have lots of fun together from now on."
Still holding Raki's arm, Uta practically dragged her along at a quick trot until they reached Arton.
"My dear Captain," Uta said, bouncing up beside him with a bright smile. "Aren't you going to go play too?"
Raki raised an eyebrow. The way Uta said that sounded weirdly familiar.
"I'll pass," Arton said with an easy laugh, looking around at the crew—so stretched out in deck chairs soaking up the sun, so splashing around in the White Sea, others zipping around on Skypiea speedboats like Nami.
The White Sea wasn't as dense as the Blue Sea. Normally, if a regular person fell in, they'd just keep sinking until they dropped straight down into the Blue Sea below.
But that didn't really apply to the Flablade Pirates anymore.
Every single one of them was a monster in their own right—so Arton wasn't worried.
He turned back, eyes landing on Raki and the pumpkins in her hands.
"Miss Raki… what's with you looking like that?" he asked, amused. "And what are the pumpkins for?"
Uta imdiately pouted and stuffed Arton's arm right into her chest like she was staking a claim.
"Captain, seriously—new girl and you're already forgetting the old one?" she whined. "I'm right here, and you're paying attention to Raki instead."
She narrowed her eyes, playful but accusing.
"Say it—are you thinking sothing naughty about her?" Uta pressed. "Are you planning to have her take good care of your… weapon?"
"Weapon?" Raki blinked, then nodded earnestly. "If Arton-san has a weapon that needs maintenance, I'd be happy to help."
"Cough—no, not necessary for now," Arton said quickly, then pinched Uta's ass with a helpless look on his face. "Uta's just joking, Raki—don't take it seriously. And you… you're getting more and more mischievous, you know that?"
"Hehe," Uta purred, tracing a slow circle on Arton's chest with her fingertip. "Because I know you like it."
When she finished, her gaze slid down his body, and she licked her lips without even thinking.
Arton felt it—of course he did—and he rubbed his forehead like a man who'd brought this on himself.
Because the truth was… the whole weapon thing?
That was a phrase he taught Uta in the first place.
"So… did I misunderstand what you ant by weapon?" Raki asked.
Watching how Arton and Uta interacted, even soone as slow on the uptake as her could tell sothing was off. And when she rembered the way Uta had glanced down earlier…
Raki's ears turned red all over again.
Still, years of being a warrior kicked in—she forced her expression under control, even if her thoughts were absolutely not cooperating.
"Misunderstand?" Uta giggled, turning that mischievous smile on Raki before looking back at Arton. "Hehe. What misunderstanding? Captain, you can't exactly deny the weapon thing, can you? I an… when you spar with us, that's what you use, right?"
Arton flicked Uta's smooth forehead, like he was scolding a bratty little cat.
"Honestly… if we're talking 'weapons,' you're the one carrying way more than I am," he said, shaking his head.
"Well, Captain, your weapon is just too mostruous," Uta shot back cheerfully. "Too strong. Too… sturdy. So I have to make sure I've got all kinds of 'weapons' on to keep up."
As she spoke, she pressed in even closer—nearly burying Arton's entire arm in her soft cleavage, like she was treating his arm as so kind of tool she needed to handle.
Raki stared at the motion—and her brain instantly dragged up a matching scene from her diary.
Her face went hot.
She nearly short-circuited.
And honestly? Even Arton looked like he was fighting for his life.
"Alright, alright—enough with the teasing," he said, pinching Uta's cheek with a helpless sigh before turning to Raki. "Let's focus on you for a second. Raki, you still haven't told what those pumpkins are for."
"Oh—right!" Raki snapped back to reality and smiled at him. "Arton-san, Conis asked to pick these—Skypiea's special pumpkins from her field. In a bit, we're going to make pumpkin noodles together. Do you want to co try so?"
"Pumpkin noodles?" Arton's eyes lit up imdiately.
As the diary system's owner, he rembered—instantly—writing about pumpkin noodles before. There was no way he was passing up an opportunity like this.
"Perfect," he said with a grin. "I'm hungry anyway. Lead the way."
"Then co with ," Raki said, nodding as she started toward Conis's house.
A few minutes later, Arton, Uta, and Raki stepped inside.
Conis had her sleeves rolled up, kneading dough with practiced hands. When she saw them, a warm smile spread across her face.
"Raki, you're back," Conis said, then looked to Arton and Uta. "And Arton-san, Uta-san—welco. I'm glad you ca."
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and walked over.
"Hi, Conis," Arton said with a nod. "I'm here for the pumpkin noodles."
"No problem," Conis said with a gentle laugh. "But they'll take a little ti to make. If you don't mind, you can rest in the living room and wait."
While Conis spoke, Raki was already peeling the Skypiea pumpkin, preparing to mash and grind it into a smooth pulp to mix into the dough Conis had been working.
"Sounds good," Arton said easily. "Then I'll go sit down for a bit."
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