It was during this storm that Boudicca sat on the railing at the poop deck, covering herself with nothing more than a long, white towel. Raindrops ran down her pale skin as she raised her head to the sky and closed her eyes, enjoying the downpour.

She still couldn't believe it. After eleven years of hopelessness and suffering, she had finally come across people willing to help her.

Maybe God has finally seen me.

"You shouldn't be out here, Miss." Eddie's gentle voice surprised her. He sat down beside her with a small black umbrella, and raised it over her head.

She laughed. "You don't need to do that. I like the rain."

"I'm a doctor, and my crewmate is sitting outside in this weather almost completely naked. I can't allow that." He said, struggling to keep the umbrella straight against the billowing wind.

Still smiling, Boudicca reached out and took hold of his hand. For a while, the two sat together, holding the umbrella in their hands.

After a few moments, Boudicca glanced at Eddie, who was completely drenched by now. "Um...should you not have brought another umbrella?" She asked.

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, and accidentally inhaled the rain. Coughing, he managed to say something about the umbrella being the only one on the ship.

"Ah, I see." She replied, amused by his stubbornness when it came to patients. "You're...rather different from what Jackie says. I thought you'd be some kind of obnoxious pervert, but you're very kind."

Eddie blushed at this. It wasn't very often that a lady complimented his personality. "I'm not sure I'm all that great a person. He isn't lying when he says I'm a pervert. But I do have standards." He said, pushing wet strands of hair away from his eyes.

Boudicca laughed again. She always raised her hand over her mouth when she laughed, resting the fingertips on her upper lip. "I can see that. You're one of those men who are gentlemen on the outside and demanding in bed!" The smile on her face as she said this almost made her remark fly over Eddie's head.

"Ah, so you're implying that you're no virgin, right?" He asked, glad he caught that bit.

She simply nodded, though Eddie noticed something in her eyes seemed to...disappear, when she said this.

Remembering the story from the twins and her own words, he took a deep breath.

"What happened to you, Miss? Even back then, when you mentioned the King, you looked terrified." He said, unsure of whether he should even ask.

However, Boudicca did not seem to be upset. In fact, she smiled, despite the emptiness in her eyes.

"I wouldn't even know where to start telling my story, to be perfectly honest." She murmured, brushing a hand through her wet hair.

Her fearful expression upon being asked about her past had been imprinted to his mind. He had to know something about her.

But he had to be careful. "Well...who did it start with?" He asked.

For a moment, she didn't reply.

She closed her eyes. "Every story starts with someone. Whether it was with my parents, Fernando, or Leo and Valeria...I don't know." She said, letting go of Eddie's hand and lowering herself to the floor.

Slightly disappointed but taking the hint, Eddie followed her back to the ship, covering her with the umbrella.

As the downpour continued, the three ships of Whitebeard's fleet struggled through the raging seas, crashing through the oncoming waves.

THUNK! THUNK!

On the ship of the Cotton Pirates, The Marigold, Elma continued her own training alongside Sue Cotton and her maid, Lilian.

"Keep your body straight. Never lose your balance when you launch attacks." Cotton said, standing under the black umbrella held up by Lilian.

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What Elma was hitting was a wide, steel cylinder, chained to an iron stand by links as wide as her hand. The four legs of the stand extended away from the cylinder to the floor from the top, which allowed her to punch away without hindrance.

Despite all her strength, what she was doing was ridiculous. For the last week, she had been practicing with that cylinder, trying to score a hit strong enough to leave an imprint on the steel.

So far, no good.

Again and again she slammed her fist into the steel, and sent it flying. Yet, it was impossible to land a powerful enough hit to even dent it.

"Steel is much lighter than iron, but it is also stronger. It will be tricky to land a punch that powerful."

Cotton's words provided little guidance, but there really wasn't much to do here with brains. All she had for this challenge was her physical strength.

Eventually, she spoke up. "Alright, that's enough. Let's go." She turned around and walked away, Lilian right beside her.

Elma stood there for a moment longer, the cold raindrops running down her bandaged hands. Seven days, no luck. She thought.

I wonder how the others are doing. She remembered Jackie getting his ass beat by Leonardo in training when she had left the Ivory. He probably wasn't faring much better.

She turned and walked down the steps to the main deck, and entered the stairwell through the door in the floor.

As she entered the dimly lit area, she saw Lilian standing near the staircase, struggling to close the umbrella.

"Give me that." She snatched it from her grasp and tugged it shut with ease. "There. You're welcome." She said, handing it back to her.

Lilian sighed as she kept threw it down to the floor, exasperated.

"How do you two do it? Standing out there in the rain while the ship is bouncing around like a ball?" She asked, shaking the water out of her curly brown hair.

Her grey shirt was completely drenched, along with the long black skirt she insisted on wearing with it. Her hair, which only barely reached her neck, was matted to her face.

Elma laughed, and started walking down the stairs, Lilian trailing behind her. "The rain doesn't bother me. You don't like it?"

Lilian brushed her hair back, trying to get it out of her face. "With all due respect, I don't think you'd be bothered if your clothes fell off."

Elma frowned, looking down at her plain white tunic. The neck was a little wide, but she couldn't understand what was wrong with it.

Before she could ask, though, they ran into the ship doctor, Maxwell.

He was a bit short and in his late forties, with a scar running from his left ear to his chin. His oversized black coat dragged behind him wherever he went.

"Finally done with your training?" He asked, lighting up a cigar. The smoke blew right over to Elma and Lilian's faces.

Unfazed, Elma walked past him while Lilian followed, coughing with tears in her eyes. "It's ironic that a doctor would smoke cigars like his life depends on it." She said.

Impassive as ever, Maxwell only shrugged."What's wrong with a cigar? It's never killed anyone."

Elma wasn't sure either. "Our doctor said it was a bad idea, and I trust him."

Her words were met with silence. As she left, Maxwell leaned back and allowed himself a moment's pause.

That's some doctor you've got there, miss.

"You know, I've never understood what's going on with your doctor." Elma asked, catching up with Lilian.

The maid sighed. "He's a good man, albeit an avid smoker. The whole ship stinks of tobacco ever since him and a couple of the girls got into smoking." She paused, clearing her throat a bit.

"Not doing you any favours, is he?" Elma asked, watching her struggle to talk. "Well...no, not really. I've got a...horribly sensitive throat." She rasped, her voice cracking mid-sentence.

The entrance in front of them led to the well-lit galley, filled with carefully made circular tables and large lanterns fixed to the walls on all sides. The walls were covered in paintings made on the wood.

Some depicted the female army of Amazonians preparing for battle, against the backdrop of a red sun surrounded by black clouds.

Another showed Venus, the God of Love, standing next to Mars, the God of War. The two appeared to be sharing a drink, bloody swords crossed against each other. All had been painted by the vice-captain, Dorothy.

As the two walked into the galley, the pirates cheered and waved hello. Most of them were women, though there were the occasional men here and there.

Even amidst all the people, the Captain was the one who stood out most. She stood in the middle of the room, wiping water droplets from the short sleeve of her black dress.

She was probably the strangest woman Elma had ever met. Sometimes she appeared elegant and well-mannered, then she'd open her mouth and start swearing at people.

"You did well again, Elma. You are blessed with an unusually strong body. But there's still much work to be done." She said, reaching over and adjusting Elma's tunic.

She could only nod in response. "You're doing fine with Basic Ley, but your skill with Advanced Ley leaves much to be desired. So I'm going to be holding a small practice session tomorrow. You, your captain, and that doctor. That's all." With that, it was decided.

As she walked away, Lilian rolled her eyes. "That's her issue. Stubborn as hell."

"Stubborn, but correct."

A voice said, and the two spun around to find Maxwell standing behind them.

He had apparently finished smoking, and was now observing Elma closely, his hands in coat pockets. "You fight like your life is on the line all the time."

Elma narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Isn't that how everybody fights? You'd die if you don't put everything on the line."

Maxwell shrugged again. "I used to fight the way you do when I was younger. It's wasteful. All that power, no composure." He walked away without another word.

"You know, I wish I could grab that little guy by his hair and throw him off the ship." Elma muttered. But underneath, she knew he was right.

Not bad for a doc.