For Yamato, the indignities of the day seemed endless. But none compared to the humiliation inflicted upon her by her so-called "good sisters," Olivia and Kujaku.
Despite her protests, they had ignored her insistence on their "brother-sister" bond and forced her into women's clothing. Yamato tugged at the pure white dress she now wore—a slim, hip-hugging piece with thin straps that hung around her neck and a deep V-neckline revealing far more skin than she was comfortable with.
Her frustration deepened as she glanced down at the stiletto heels on her feet, their white crystal design taunting her.
"These ridiculous shoes! I can't even walk properly in them, let alone fight!" Yamato growled, grinding her teeth in fury.
Her glare darkened as she muttered under her breath, "Kujaku, you're going to regret this. I'll get back at you, I swear!"
But even as her anger simmered, Yamato couldn't help but think of Hancock, who could move with ease and grace even in the most impractical outfits. If Hancock could do it, why couldn't she?
Taking a deep breath, Yamato squared her shoulders. "If Sister Hancock can handle this, so can I. It's just a pair of weird shoes. All I need is a little practice."
With newfound determination, Yamato began to move hesitantly around her room, each step wobbly and unsteady. Her movements were awkward at best, her balance precarious as her body swayed dangerously with every attempt. Anyone watching would have had trouble suppressing their laughter.
Her focus was so intense that she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone knocked on the door. The sudden noise startled her, and she barely managed to keep from falling over, her arms flailing wildly as she steadied herself against the nearest wall.
"Who is it?!" she barked, her voice tinged with both annoyance and embarrassment. "Don't interrupt me while I'm training!"
Despite her protests, she shuffled toward the door with great difficulty, leaning heavily on the wall for support. When she finally opened it, she was greeted by Kujaku's grinning face.
Kujaku's mischievous peach-blossom eyes gleamed with amusement as she took in Yamato's disheveled appearance.
"Yamato, you're looking pretty good," she teased, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought to suppress her laughter.
"Kujaku!" Yamato's face contorted in a mix of shock and rage. "How dare you show your face here after what you've done to me?! Look at me—I can't even walk without looking like an idiot!"
Kujaku waved off Yamato's complaints with an exaggerated shrug. "Relax. Olivia and I will teach you how to walk properly in heels later. For now, though, just come with me."
Before Yamato could protest, Kujaku grabbed her wrist and began pulling her forward.
"Wait! Slow down!" Yamato yelped, panic rising in her voice. "I'm going to fall!"
"You'll be fine," Kujaku said, barely looking back. "The best way to learn is to practice. You'll get used to it after a bit of walking."
"Kujaku, I swear—" Yamato's string of curses was cut short as she stumbled along, barely managing to stay upright.
By the time Kujaku dragged her in front of Luffy and the others, Yamato was drenched in sweat, her legs trembling from the effort. Her glare burned into Kujaku, silently vowing never to wear heels again.
But before she could voice her complaints, Luffy's voice broke through her frustration.
"Yamato…" he began, his tone sincere. "You look beautiful in high heels."
The compliment landed like a bolt of lightning. Yamato froze, her anger and exhaustion momentarily forgotten as a wave of embarrassment washed over her.
"W-what?" she stammered, her cheeks turning a bright red.
Despite her confusion, a strange sense of pride flickered within her. Straightening her posture, she brought her legs together and shyly asked, "R-really?"
The moment the words left her lips, Yamato clapped her hands over her mouth, mortified by her own reaction.
Luffy, oblivious to her internal conflict, grinned widely and gave her a confident thumbs-up. "Really. No one looks better than you today."
His words, coupled with the way his gaze lingered on her, sent Yamato's heart racing. She bit her lip, trying to process the unfamiliar feelings swirling within her.
"I-I'm a man! I don't need to look good!" she shouted, her voice a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.
But even as she protested, a small part of her felt inexplicably happy.
The other girls watched the scene unfold with varying expressions of amusement and curiosity. Yamato's flustered demeanor was a stark contrast to her usual fiery personality, and they couldn't help but marvel at her transformation.
"She does look good," one of them admitted grudgingly. "But the most beautiful? I'm not so sure."
"Let's give her a pass today," another chimed in. "It's her first time embracing her feminine side, after all."
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