This Is So Good!!!

This is so good!!!

Happy Birthday to our dearest Mackenyu!

Chime of Fate

Pairing: enishi yukishiro x reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.7k+

A/N: This is a little drabble to celebrate the birthday of the man, the legend, who does his absolute best in every role he plays, but especially as Enishi Yukishiro. This is somehow linked to the Addicting Taste lore because it just makes sense to me, but could be read as a standalone (if you squint enough). It was also partly inspired by Iris. As always, enjoy lovelies.

Happy birthday Mackenyu 🫶

The mansion was not a fun place to be lately. Your days were spent either preparing for missions or training and the monotony of it was killing you. Absolutely no offence to Enishi, but spending time with him was both a learning experience and a horror. You needed to get out and see other people before you went mad and talked to the weapons you trained with like they would talk back to you.

The market down in the village tonight felt like the perfect occassion to get out and see the world. There was just one problem. You were broke and you didn’t know the area that well yet, so whether you liked it or not you had to drag the sulking mop of gray hair with you.

This was one of the days Enishi wanted to spend in his office, working away on his plans. He was narrowing down the details on a nearby mafia base when his attention was distracted by your presence at his office door. You failed to peak silently through the small crack, discovering your location.

“Why are you hanging onto the door like a panda?”

“Pandas are cute," you stated walking towards his desk. He narrowed his eyes at you, urging you to state the reason and timing of your unplanned visit so he could get back to his work.

“Get dressed.”

“What for?”

“We’re going out today!”

“I’m not in the mood,” he said going back to reading the map in his hand. You didn’t move from your spot, placing your hands on your hips in an authoritarian way.

“If you want Wu to become the house chef then be my guest,” you said sternly, a determined look in your eyes. That made his eyes snap to you.

“You wouldn’t—“

“Oh, I totally would. So, I suggest you go get changed if you want to continue eating edible food.”

He thought it over. Last time he put Wu in charge of the kitchen left him cleaning up the burnt mess of what was supposed to be a batch of pancakes. He really didn't want to repeat the experience.

On the other hand, he didn’t really want to see human beings walking about today. But you seemed so excited about going out and the puppy eyes you were making at him made it hard to say no to you.

“Okay.”

“Great! See you out front," you chimed as you skipped to your room to get ready. He shook his head at your antics.

——————————

You were done first and came out to wait for him, warming up your hands in the pockets of your coat. The weather got colder recently. Frozen leaves crunched to pieces under your feet as you paced around.

Finally, he stepped out, blue kimono sitting snug around his form. He sported his usual annoyed scowl, arms tucked around his chest to ward off any unwanted attention in a ploy to seem intimidating.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a market in the village tonight."

“And why do I really have to accompany you?”

“Because you’ve been cooped up in your office way too much. And because I wanted to go with you,” you twirled the ends of your coat mindlessly as you walked together. He thought you looked adorable.

The dark forest path was soon brightened by the cheery atmosphere of the village. You walked around the vendors, picking up all kinds of savory stuff that Enishi had to pay for. He didn't mind but he did start craving sweets the more he saw you gobble them up.

The ice-cream you were currently stuffing your face with looked tempting, so he leaned in to take a bite. You saw him approach and quickly moved the frozen dessert away from him. He tried again but you kept spinning around to keep it out of his reach, giggling at his failed attempts. That was until he got hold of your wrist, pulling the cone to his mouth, his other hand resting on your lower back to bring you closer. Your heart got stuck in your throat as you watched him bite into your ice cream, eyes gazing intensely into yours.

“Is this vanilla?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, unable to speak in the fear that your voice will crack at the proximity between you.

“I like it," he said as he took another bite, his earlier sulkiness long gone. He looked like a child and you couldn't help the smile pulling at your lips.

“Of course you do. Go get one for yourself," you huffed and he let go of your hand.

"But it tastes better from you."

"Go buy another one while thinking of me."

"But that's not the same," he pouted. You shook your head at his antics, passing him the ice cream you were eating and he took it happily.

"You're such a child."

"You love me."

"Whatever floats your boat."

You left him conversing with a villager whilst you walked around the rest of the vendors. The jewelry stands pulled you in as they sparkled with all kinds of accessories, from wooden hair pins adorned with gems to rings embellished with semi-precious stones. There were even stacks on stacks of gold and silver.

You scanned all of them until one caught your eye, a silver earring with a bell attached twinkling in the silver pile. You picked it up and held it up to your eye level examining it. It strangely reminded you of Enishi, the same cold light reflecting off the charm the more you turned it around.

“Do you have someone on your mind?” asked the lady behind the stand. She was dressed modestly considering the expensive jewelry she was selling. Her hair was put up with a hair pin, simpler than the ones displayed on the stand.

“How did you know?”

“I can see compassion on your face. He’s probably someone really important to you.”

“Him? Pft. I don’t… I don’t think so?” you said looking at the earring. There was something about it that called to you. You tried to put it back down but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't look away from it. It felt like you were meant to hold it.

“That one is a special kind. It’s a token of good fortune, but it’s also meant for protection. If you follow its sound back to its owner you’re going to be protected from danger too.”

You rang the little bell in your hand and a timid chime greeted you. There was something about the sound that made you feel at peace, just like his presence. Your eyes peered back to Enishi who was still in his spot, this time helping a farmer fix the wonky leg of his cart. Once he made it stable enough, he stood back up and the farmer thanked him.

“He must be your soulmate.”

“Soulmate? I wouldn't put it that way.”

“You do feel a connection with him, don’t you?”

You couldn’t deny she was onto something. You and Enishi were so different, but something kept you together, like magnets pulling at each other. It was cliche but this bond existed. You nodded at the lady, wanting to humour her in hopes you’d find out why this bond felt so important.

“I can tell that you’re connected by something, be it the string of fate or something much more spiritual—“ she was cut off as the man in question made his presence known beside you.

“Are you trying to mess her brain too, witch?”

“Hey! Speak nicely to the lady,” you said slapping his arm.

“Ow. What was that for?" he muttered walking away like a scolded child. You shook your head at him, turning back to the lady to see her quite amused at the interaction.

"I haven't seen him like this before," she said smiling while looking in his direction. "He's always helping the villagers with all kinds of things, from gathering the crops to fixing their carriages. But in all that compassion there's this part of him that's shut off from the world. A coldness around his heart that's holding him prisoner," she said taking a hold of your hands.

"There's a warmth about you that might be just what his heart needs. Stay with him," she placed the earring in your palm, closing it around the small charm.

You knew there was truth to her words. Enishi was more than cold, he was arctic. His coldness could cut deep, but it was just a facade to protect his heart. People never batted an eye at his pain, looking at him like the only thing he could be is a monster, collecting souls for the underworld. But in the few weeks you've spent with him you realised that wasn't true.

He cares. He wants to help. And he does everything in his power to show that to the people who manage to get through to him.

“I’ll take it,” you whispered, handing the last coin in your saddle to the lady. If you could show your appreciation to him in some way it was with this small earring. At least for now.

“Good luck with him."

“Thanks! I’ll need it.”

You turned and ran to catch up with Enishi who was already heading in the direction of the woods, probably to get back to his work. It seemed like his social battery drained out fairly quickly today, judging by the small steps he took.

You fell in step by his side prodding about his earlier behaviour to the vendor lady.

“Why were you so rude to her?”

“Because she’s always spewing nonsense about spiritual stuff or whatever. It’s creepy," he spat out annoyed.

“What’s creepy is you being rude to someone just because you can’t understand them.”

That made him stop in his tracks. You kind of had a point. There was no reason for him to be snarky like that but it was a habit he couldn't let go of. He started being more mindful of it after spending more time with you as you corrected him and explained where he was wrong.

He looked at you as you walked beside him, hands full of pastries that he bought for you. He wouldn't admit it, but he was glad you took him with you to the market. He wasn't one to browse through stands unless he really had to buy food, but he enjoyed doing it with you for fun.

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Enishi?”

"What?"

“Give me your hands.”

“What for?”

This brat. Why do you need a reason for everything?

“Just give them here,” you gestured, balancing the bags of pastries under your arm.

He stopped walking to face you, arms held out to you. You took hold of his palms, turning them upwards to put yours over his, fingers sneaking all the way to his wrists.

“What are you doing?” he asked lifting an eyebrow at you.

“Here,” you said as you slid them off, leaving the earring in his palm. The charm looked so small in his huge hand as he took to inspecting it. He rang the bell and a chime echoed back to him. His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gift.

"I thought you were broke."

"Well I am now," you laughed.

He remembered that the earring he usually had in his ear tarnished recently and he took it off, making a note to get a new one. But it seemed like you beat him to it.

“Put it on” you said shyly.

He clipped the charm in his ear giving it a try as he wiggled his head about. An image of a gray-haired cat playing with its collar popped in your head as you watched Enishi, his fingers playing around with the bell, the ghost of a smile present on his lips.

“I take it you like it," you giggled.

“I do. Thank you," he mumbled.

You nodded and made your way to the mansion with him following behind, the sound of the bell filling the silence of the night.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments, notes and reblogs are welcome :)

Congratulations to Taz Skylar!!!

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WELCOME TO THE PHILIPPINES, MACKENYU!!!

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch.8

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.  

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 30.8k

A/N:  Whelp. Here she is. The beginning of the climax. A gigantic piece of a chapter that hopefully has everything you all hoped it would be. Just know she is hefty. If there are any errors or anything I will have to die on that hill. So many important things happen this chapter and I can’t wait to see how everyone is feeling once you’ve read this hefty hefty girl. I did take some inspiration from the Salem Witch Trials. You’ve all been warned. And as always: Thank You. For always being so kind and loving my story as much as you all do. I hope you all continue to enjoy it 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Previous

Warnings: mentions of torture, use of OPLA dialogue, swearing 

Zoro could’ve gone a whole lifetime without ever having to see this clown again. By the way Usopp and Sanji weren’t acting the least bit surprised to see Buggy, it informed him that they must have seen him already. And if Usopp and Sanji met Buggy did that mean you had, as well? When would that have even happened? 

Zoro’s brain struggled to think about how the clown had even shown up at Baratie. It didn’t take him long to realize that he must have come on the back of one of the fishmen that attacked Baratie. On one of the fishmen who’d taken you. Buggy was back to trying to spit the sand off his bottom lip and, for the first time, Zoro thanked whatever high and mighty power was listening that they had one last moment of silence. 

“It doesn’t get any easier looking at him like this.”

“He’s even more of a pain in the ass when he has all of his parts,” Zoro retorted. “Be grateful it’s just the head.”

He was still trying to decide if he shouldn’t just stuff him back in the bag and throw him overboard. Buggy’s…neck was bouncing around the table as if he was looking for something - someone - specific. Zoro could feel a fresh surge of irritation rush through him just before the stupid clown opened his mouth. 

“Why is it such a sausage fest all of the sudden, huh? What happened to the ladies? Did they finally come to their senses and realize what a group of shit-tastic waste of time you all are?”

“Why is he still allowed to talk?” Sanji asked, walking around the other side of the island. 

“Because he is going to tell us where to find Nami and Doc,” Luffy replied. 

He looked so hopeful. Zoro wished he could share the same feeling, but he wouldn’t trust this clown within an inch of his life. But if it meant whatever information he gave led him to where you were, well…

“And my body! Don’t forget about my body.”

“Your body comes at the price of information, Bungy.”

“Oh, for crying out loud! It’s Buggy!”

“No one cares about your name, clown,” Zoro bit out. “We just need the coordinates.”

When the cold blue of Buggy’s eyes scaled over him, Zoro felt a new ripple of irritation run across his skin. He fought not to shake it out of his body as he continued to lean against the island. The ache of his wounds grew with each passing second, and with every expanse his chest made when he took a breath reminded him he wasn’t a hundred percent. 

He thought by the grin that slid over Buggy’s face that the clown was going to comment on his wounds. Throw more salt in an already painful reminder. As it turned out, what Buggy had planned to say was much, much worse. 

“Don’t worry lover boy I’ll get you back to your little sweetie pie. Wouldn’t want you both to miss out on any unnecessary pining! Am I right?!”

His obnoxious laughter filled the galley and it reminded Zoro of nails on a chalkboard. His jaw ticked like a time bomb while he watched the clown look around the cabin at every other face. When he realized no one else was laughing he quickly stopped with a grumble. 

“So, where exactly did Arlong take them?” 

“Arlong’s found himself a little slice of heaven on the Conomi Islands. The perfect base between every adjacent island to it and Marine base stationed close by.”

“Why would anyone, let alone a pirate, want to be close to a Marine base?”

This came from the waiter. Zoro felt his eyes flick over to where Sanji stood. It was the same spot he’d been in the last night he’d seen you. The night he’d told Nami she didn’t have friends - that they weren’t her friends when that was the farthest thing from the truth. Zoro could recall the look of disappointment - the outrage - that flashed behind your eyes as if you were standing there right now beside him. 

Zoro gave a light shake of his head to bring him back to the present. His body turned to mirror the waiter as a fresh wave of pain blossomed in his chest. The wound no doubt seeping fresh blood while he positioned his arms out against the island. He needed to stay focused and not on past memories he couldn’t change. 

“It’s a great plan as long as you pay a Marine captain to turn a blind eye.”

Zoro’s voice still sounded like he’d gargled with glass and tried to speak over the cuts. Lack of use and too much sleep would do that to someone. 

“Ding, ding, ding! Lover boy buzzes in for the win.”

“Stop calling me that,” Zoro snapped. 

His eyes lifted up from the island to bore into Buggy’s moving head. What was more frustrating was his words didn’t seem to worry the clown one bit. 

“Just calling it like I see it champ. Although, I must say, I’ve heard some cold blooded denials in my time - specifically said to me - but never anything as gut wrenching as that.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No wonder Doc ran into Arlong’s big fishy arms-“

“I said shut up!”

What the hell was Buggy even talking about? How could he have possibly even known what was said between the two of you that night? The way it had torn him apart inside to tell you that you weren’t wanted - that he didn’t want you - when it was the farthest thing from the truth. He had his dreams and promises to keep, but what good was any of it if you weren’t here?

Maybe he didn’t deserve you or your forgiveness for what he’d done - what he’d said. Zoro couldn’t lie and say if he went back in time anything would change. Could he be selfish enough to tell you how he felt and ask you to wait? 

Since he’d woken up, besides the haunting news of you leaving had resided inside his thoughts, so did the memory of your body caving in on the Merry’s ramp. You looked so broken - your chest noticeably collapsing with every rapid breath you took. All he wanted to do was comfort you and he’d tried in his own way. Instead, Zoro knew he might have broken you more in a different way. 

That moment was the first time in his life he wanted to forget about honor and shame. To drop everything and run to you because the regret of not telling you the truth about how he felt about you weighed heavier than any shame ever could. His regret ate at him with every waking minute until it burned molten with rage and threatened to turn his words into venom. 

Underneath that was the fear of what if they reached you too late? 

Zoro refused to entertain those thoughts. Whether you could forgive him or not, Zoro knew one thing was certain. He would bring you back home. 

“Okay, okay, Romeo god you know the hair is attached.”

Zoro hadn’t realized he’d rushed forward towards the clown. That he clutched his head with his fingers holding him tight by the blue strands of his hair. Luffy was there. A calm hand on his wrist and speaking to him lightly to let the clown head go. He released him and quickly moved back to the other side of the island. Away from Usopp and definitely away from where that waiter had moved up beside him. 

He needed a drink. 

Zoro was vaguely aware that they were all talking. That Luffy had placed the clown back inside the black bag and was saying something to all of them. It was time to make a plan, but plans were Nami’s thing. 

“That’s your thing, right? Plans?”

Why did he give a shit about her? It was her fault that they were in this mess. The reason you no doubt went with Arlong. Sure, Zoro knew you did it to save Luffy. He always knew you were the type to sacrifice yourself for others without even blinking. It’s what made him absolutely crazy. Underneath all that though, he knew how close you were to Nami. You saw something in her the same way Luffy did. 

As much as you went to save Luffy, Zoro knew you went to save Nami too. 

He finally ripped open a crate and found bottles of his beer untouched and waiting for him. He couldn’t grab one fast enough to uncap it and bring it to his lips. He was still drinking when Luffy came to the edge of the island and looked around at all of them. 

“With Buppy’s help we’ll get the coordinates to the Conomi Islands. That’s our first step.” 

“Okay, but how do we know he isn’t just going to lead us directly into a trap?” Usopp asked. 

“Man has a point.”

Zoro took one last large gulp from the bottle at the sound of the waiter's input. 

“Whether we like it or not, he’s our only chance at finding them. We’re going to have to put a little faith that he wants his body back enough to get us there. We’ll deal with whatever else happens when we get there.”

Zoro found a spot to rest his back against the cabinets. His focus trained on Luffy. He was always so sure of himself. When plans went to shit he didn’t panic. Luffy just went with the flow believing that everything would just work itself out somehow. Zoro wishes he could share in that kind of optimism right now. 

“And what if we just get there and Nami leads us into another trap?”

He didn’t want to be the one to say it, but he wanted to be realistic. It could happen again. She could use you against them. Against him. Without missing a beat, Luffy looked over at him and softly smiled. 

“Nami won’t do that.”

“You don’t know that,” Zoro shot back bitterly.

“Just as much as you don’t know if she will,” Sanji barked back in reply. 

His eyes narrowed in on the waiter with the bottle tapping against his thigh. 

“Last I checked, you were here to make sandwiches. Not give an opinion nobody asked for.” 

A scoff exited from between Sanji’s mouth as he looked away from him. Zoro could see the tick in his jaw. Sanji seemed to be fighting not to reply with a heated reply back to him, and he was proven right when Sanji looked back at him. His shoulders squared up and with icy blue eyes as defiant as Nami’s were that night they shared their last drink. 

“Guys, we don’t have time for this,” Usopp huffed. 

“You’re right. I’ll be a better man and move on. For now.” 

Zoro was most definitely going to kick him overboard the first chance he got. 

“I’m going to take Bungy to the deck and start getting the coordinates. Usopp, if you can join me in a few.”

“You got it, Luffy.”

Luffy grabbed the bag and it quickly erupted in muffled ramblings from the clown inside. Zoro couldn’t catch much, but the mumbling sounded like a lot of bitching about Luffy saying his name wrong. Repeatedly. All three of them remained where they were with no one seeming to want to move. 

Usopp stepped out of the way as Sanji began to remove his coat. His hands rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he moved inside the kitchen as if he’d been there for years. It sent a fresh surge of irritation coursing through Zoro’s body, and he tried to quill it by finishing the beer that was left in the waiting bottles. 

He was reaching into the crate when he heard the waiter speak again. Your name rushing past his lips like the guy had the right to fucking say it. Zoro’s thumb flicked the lid off the beer and the force sent it flying across the room. 

“What did the waiter just say?”

“This waiter,” Sanji snapped back, “just asked what you possibly could’ve said to make her break like that.”

“How about you worry about whether the eggs are too runny.”

“Doc deserves to have someone love her back the way she loves them.”

He hated the way he said your name - your nickname - like you were close friends. As if he’d spent time with you while he was asleep. Maybe he had and that made Zoro’s eyes practically bleed to dark pits. 

“You’ve been here all of five minutes. You don’t know shit about what’s going on-“

“I know enough to say that if you do that again to her Mosshead, I’ll be the one there to pick up the pieces.” 

Sanji’s words sliced through his own to silence whatever Zoro was going to tell him. The man didn’t flinch as Zoro took a threatening step towards him, while he pulled out another pan and grabbed a bag of rice.

“You won’t be going anywhere near her-“

“Hey Zoro, not to but in-“

“You’re butting in.”

Usopp swallowed around his need to flee and stood his ground. Zoro had to give him props for that. He was sure he looked ready to slice them both in half at any minute.

 “But maybe this could all have been avoided if you’d just told Doc how you felt.” 

Zoro looked away from them both. His eyes scanning every inch of the galley as he tried to imagine telling the woman who joined up with Arlong he had feelings for her. That all he wanted to do that night in the galley when you stood in front of him blanketed in moonlight and stars was to kiss you. To lace his hand into that stupid corset shirt Nami let you borrow and keep you locked in a place where you couldn’t run away. Not anymore. Not ever again. What he settled on was, “I’m not good at talking. I hit things.”

“We know,” Usopp and Sanji both blurted out together, equally sounding like different pitches of annoyance. 

“You’re a waiter. You don’t know anything about me, and you sure as shit don’t know anything about Doc.”

“I know a big green-haired idiot who would allow a beautiful and talented woman get away from him when I see one.”

Yeah, Zoro was going to have to do something about this waiter. Every time he mentioned anything about you, it made him want to throw Sanji over the side of the Merry. He’d been wanting to do that since they left Baratie, but he’d been holding back the urge because he’d already knew what Luffy would do. Now though, Zoro felt like he could take whatever scolding Luffy might give him just to have the satisfaction of watching Sanji tread water. 

“I’m willing to bet I also know more about her than you do, at this point. Since, you know, talking is hard and all.”

Sanji sent a shit eating grin in his direction and Zoro hadn’t realized he’d started moving around the island until Usopp appeared next to him. A heavy, “Whoa, okay guys,” practically squeezed out of him with his arms lightly raised as if he was too scared to actually spread them out any farther to keep the two of them apart. 

“Come on, guys. We have bigger things to worry about then squabbling between each other. And if Sanji even knows anything about Doc it’s kind of my fault.”

But Zoro did know you. Maybe not in the way of your life story of your past, but you weren’t your past. Zoro knew of your present and that included the way your lips parted when you were deep in thought. The way you would begin to fidget when you weren’t sure what to do with your hands when you weren’t working on medicines or patients. He knew your favorite place to sit at night was the stern of the ship when the gusts of the wind from the push of the oceans waves sent your hair flying up around you like midnight flames. 

Sure. Zoro didn’t know much about your past, but he knew the fine details of who you were now, and that’s what mattered.

Zoro just looked at him. He wasn’t sure if Usopp expected him to verbally tell him to continue, but Zoro was quickly hitting his word limit for the day. He only responded by lifting his beer to his lips and drinking. 

“I may have brought up the time that Doc was magically dropped off by a siren from the sea.”

Zoro could feel his eyes slowly blinking. The lip of the bottle pulled on his bottom lip as he waited for Usopp to bust into his usual large grin that told him plainly he was joking. The only problem? Usopp was just staring at him waiting for his reaction. 

“I thought it was a sea witch?”

“No, no,” Usopp replied to Sanji, “Doc says sea witch because that’s what the kids called her. She likes it cause it also makes her sound scarier than she is. I say siren because it makes it more exotic and sexy.”

Zoro could tell his face was probably colored in confusion. The only remedy was another drink of beer. 

“When was this ever mentioned?”

The minute he asked, Zoro instantly regretted it. Instead of Usopp answering him, the waiter felt compelled to continue bugging the shit out of him. 

“It was brought up while we were doing all the hard work and you were getting your beauty sleep.”

“The hard work of losing half the crew and almost letting Luffy die? Yeah, you did great.” 

He knew he hit a sore spot. Usually, by now he would see the sharp intake of breath as Sanji prepared himself to respond. This time he focused on measuring out the rice. It was well and good with him. 

The silence suited him just fine. Zoro was tired of the back and forth. It wasn’t making him feel better. It wasn’t fixing the situation that they were all currently in, and it most definitely wasn’t leading him any closer to finding you. Suddenly, he felt like he needed to leave. He wasn’t sure if he was actually tired or if his lack of control of his emotions was starting to take a toll. 

He didn’t need to lose control in front of them. 

Without saying a word, Zoro turned and headed through the galley’s doors. He couldn’t move as fast as he wanted, but it didn’t stop him from making quick work across the deck to the safety of his room. He was vaguely aware that Luffy was calling to him from somewhere. He didn’t have it in him to look up for him - to see what it is his captain needed. 

He made it around the corner of the door and into the short hallway of the crew quarters. His room was close. He just needed to go a few extra feet and he would be in the loving embrace of his hammock and-

His hand stopped short on the doorknob. His forehead leaning against the wood of the door and the rush of his warm breath touching across his face. 

When did he start to hyperventilate? 

No. He didn’t do this. He didn’t react like this so why was he? Glancing over his shoulder, Zoro felt his heart pivot down to his knees. A flurry of emotion moved inside his chest as he struggled to glance past the ghost of you that was staring back at him over your shoulder. 

You thought you were sly. You probably thought he didn’t notice the way you lingered at the door just a few seconds more after you’d told him good night. Zoro was sure the look was meant to be innocent, but the feelings it stirred inside him were far from it. 

How many times had you whispered across the small space between you, “Sweet dreams.” How many times had he wanted to turn around and grab your hand? To pull you to him and trap your body between the wood of his door and his body? Too many times. 

Zoro expected to hear the soft sound of your voice telling him the usual night time routine you’d started. His body even waited before pushing inside his room just in case he’d hear you. Zoro knew it wasn't possible. 

You weren’t here. 

His body fell into his hammock with the Wado Ichimonji clutched in his hand. Zoro was struggling to get comfortable, which usually never happened. He was known for being able to get comfortable practically anywhere, and his hammock was one of his favorite and easiest places for him to usually fall into and sleep. 

Not now. He couldn’t get his thoughts to turn off. To quiet down long enough for your face not to flash behind his eyes every time he closed them. He’d placed the Wado on top of his chest. A hand still clutched to the sheathed blade as he tried to play it cool. His free hand tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling of his cabin. 

“Sweet dreams, Zoro.” 

It was three simple words but the way you’d looked at him as you spoke them…

That look wasn’t simple. It was wrapped in longing and begged for him to stop being a coward and unwrap it. 

Coward. 

That’s what he called you once. What did that make him now? Zoro could feel his heart hammering against his chest demanding he make the decision to get up and move. To cross that threshold of only a couple feet and knock on your door and push you back inside the way you’d done to him the very first time you’d meet. 

Zoro could still remember the shock of your hand shoving against his chest. The way you’d confidentially kicked the door shut behind you. What he recalled the most was his favorite thing now to see on you: the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. The realization of what you’d done, the uncertainty, flickered through your eyes like a shooting star. It was so bright, he thought you would back up; turn tail and run. You’d surprised him by staying. It’d surprised him more when he was glad you did. 

Before he realized it, his feet swung out of the hammock and walked to the door. The Wado still clutched in his hand, but the other was now wrapped around the knob of the door. 

He could do this. He would tell you that he felt the same. He would no longer steal glances at your lips and wonder what they would feel like against his. He would claim them as his own the minute you opened that door. 

But he couldn’t, could he? 

You weren’t here. The ache of something missing in his chest was real.  Zoro had missed his chance, and the reality was he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get a second one. 

Chew came in shortly after Nami left. 

His entire body reeked like a distillery that had swallowed a smaller distillery whole. You wondered if he was attached to every bottle he came in contact with or if it was just impulse that kept one in his hands at all times. On a better day you might have asked him, but currently every time your mouth moved it cracked open fresh new cuts on your busted lips. 

Your right eye was almost completely swollen shut. The only plus side to not being able to see out of both eyes was the fact it had happened gradually. You could still see a sliver of light through it; just enough to see the tip of Chew’s boots as he stopped in front of you. Your good eye opened just in time to see him crouch before you. His large lips taking in the tip of his latest bottle and taking a deep pull of the liquor it held within. 

“You think you can still make medicine looking like that?”

“I don’t know,” you croaked. “If you hit the other side of my face it might make it hard to see.”

“Ha! You’re right about that.”

You hated the way he smiled like it was a joke. The way he carelessly took another sip and the easy way he was able to get up and leave. Although, he wasn’t leaving yet. If he was here it meant Kuroobi would be there soon riding on the curt tails of Arlong. 

Chew moved around you in a tight circle. His eyes scan the bindings of the rope around your arms and wrists as if you somehow magically found a way out. There wasn’t an ounce of you that didn’t wish you could break your bindings like the magician who’d come to the Gecko Islands that year for Kaya’s birthday. Sure, you knew it was all bullshit, but you would’ve given anything in this moment for it to be real. Even just a little. 

Everything hurt. 

In the few moments you had left before Arlong arrived again, you needed to take stock of your current injuries. While your right eye was like a golf ball in size, it wasn’t broken. Nothing on you seemed broken yet but you knew it was becoming a dangerous possibility. One that Arlong seemed to know how to dance around perfectly. 

You weren’t sure what they had planned for you with your upper body tied up in ropes, but you knew it wasn’t good. People, or fishmen, didn’t do this to someone unless they planned something incredibly unpleasant. Lucky for you, you were invited to a private party with you being the lucky plus one. 

Yay you.  

Chew moved to sit on one of the steps just as the double metal doors were shoved open. Arlong made his usual grand entrance and you weren’t sure who exactly it was for. It’s not like you could actually see him coming in with whatever dramatic flourish he was hoping for. 

“I hope you were able to get a good night's rest,” he chortled. “You’re going to need all the strength you have left for what I have planned.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Patience. You’ll find out what I have in store for you. All in good time.”

You weren’t sure why seeing Kuroobi stand behind Arlong like a bodyguard bothered you as much as it did. The way the man made sure to stick his fins out farther to make himself seem bigger, more imposing than he already was. You still held a grudge for him using you as a battering ram to open the door. The bruises that scattered themselves along your arms and part of your back told the tale of that encounter very well. 

But who was Kuroobi trying to protect Arlong from? You?

“Of course, maybe you could save us the trouble if you just tell me what you are.”

Confusion colored your vision as you looked between the three of them. You were positive your brow would’ve creased if it could, unfortunately your skin could barely move past the swelling that was your face. 

“Okay. You’ve piqued my curiosity. What the hell are you talking about?” 

Every time Arlong smiled it made your stomach twist. It had to be one of the most unpleasant things you’d been forced to look at. His smiles never came from something lighthearted or joyful. Arlong’s smile came from the depths of the ocean; from where sea monsters buried jolly rogers and their men. It promised violence instead of warmth and currently it was always directed towards you. 

“No, no, see you don’t get to play coy any longer. Not after what you did.”

What did you do? What could you have done that was so bad to make them see you as a threat? Cry? Vomit on their shoes? 

You weren’t Luffy or Sanji when it came to being a fighter. You definitely weren’t scary and a damn good fighter like Zoro. You also didn’t have a knack for making special ammo for a slingshot like Usopp. The only thing you were capable of was turning the helpfulness of plants into medicine and, sometimes, making poisons out of them. Something you’d promised yourself you would never do. So, how were you supposed to take Arlong seriously when they acted like a bunch of scaredy cats? 

Maybe you could use this to your advantage.

“You know what? You’re right, Arlong.” You hoped you sounded braver than you felt. “And if you don’t want to experience what happened again, but worse, I suggest you untie me. Or, you know, spooky things will happen.”

They all looked at you as if you’d gone insane. No one made a sound for a split second before Arlong, Kuroobi, and Chew burst into laughter. 

“Eh, that was good, that was good. For not even a second did I believe a word you just said. But…we have ways of making you talk.”

The last few words growled from behind his teeth as he took a few steps towards you. As if you needed any reminding on what kind of individual you were dealing with. 

“You can beat me all you want. I won’t be able to make anything or do anything for you if I’m too dead to do it”

You prayed you sounded braver than you felt. You weren’t a particular fan of what was currently going on. Although, you weren’t sure anyone would claim torture was a good bonding exercise with your new captain. 

Gods, you really missed Luffy. 

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. Yet.”

“Well, that is extremely less comforting than I’d hoped,” you mumbled. 

Arlong began to walk towards you but in the presence of your voice he stopped. You forgot how much he loved just hearing himself talk and how the sound of anything else was an act of defiance. 

“I won’t kill you until you can answer one simple question for me.” Arlong paused for dramatic effect. His words sink into the corners of your mind to dig up a fresh wave of curiosity. He waited long enough to know he had you before he finished with a smile, “What are you, girl.”

“Wait. What?”

You could feel your good eye blink rapidly along with every thought that bombarded you in trying to make sense of what he just said. You looked down at your body to make sure that you were still a person. That you had two arms, currently wrapped behind your back, and was still wearing Nami’s spaghetti strap shirt she’d given you. So, it begged the question: what the fuck was Arlong talking about?

“Do you think I’m stupid because I’m a fishmen? That I wouldn’t be able to see a snake trying to work its way onto my property?”

“I’m literally just a human.”

“Just a human can't do the things you did in here yesterday.”

Again, you looked around the room and wondered if at any time someone was going to pop in and say this was a joke. A part of you hoped that was exactly what would happen because the more you stared at Arlong the more you realized the current danger you were in. He must have seen the thought drive itself home because that sickly smile crept back on his face. 

“I. Am. Just. A. Human.”

You tried to drive every word home with a metaphorical hammer. Each one ladden with irritation but underneath that was the blinding dread that something very bad was about to happen. 

Your suspicions were rewarded as Arlong closed the last remaining space between you. His large webbed hand reached out to painfully wrap around your face and yank your head upwards to look at him. You wanted to appear defiant. To pretend that with each passing second that he tightened his hands on your face it didn’t make you want to scream as your jaw felt ready to fracture. 

All your bravery dissipated as his hand closed tight enough around your jaw it sent the inside flesh of your cheeks to slide across your teeth. Instantly, a soft cry of pain filtered through the open gap of your mouth and Arlong smiled. 

“Go ahead and keep lying. The water’s edge will be the only thing filling your lungs for a while. See if the ocean wishes to reclaim you.” 

If Arlong hoped his words would elicit some sort of confession out of panic to save yourself he was wrong. The only thing it did was spark a fresh wave of fear to wash over you. It was a palpable thing. You could feel it worming its way ínside your chest, threatening to make you sick. You didn’t care if the sadistic smile that grew on his face came from that sickness. He enjoyed watching the currant of emotions that rushed through you. Everyone one of them stemming from the terror of being placed anywhere near water. 

You could still recall seven-year-old you willingly following the older kids to the beach. The way a fresh wave of hope brewed in your heart that maybe - just maybe - they were finally going to play with you. 

Coben was the one that started it. First, it was just a joke. Something sharp and cruel that reminded all the other kids in the group you weren’t like the rest. You didn’t belong. 

“I hear the ocean at nights been crying. Crying because one of her children is missing. If you listen now you can hear her saying a name.”

He created a seashell with his hands and began to call your name inside the echoing walls of his palms. You could still remember the way the hope shattered and the panic quickly filled the pieces. The warning of adrenaline coming all too late that Coben and the other kids never intended to let you play any games with them. 

You were the game. 

In seconds they were on you. A centipede of hands grasping at your arms and legs to bring your struggling body to the water. They’d dropped you fast a few feet into the waves - allowing you a millisecond to lift up from the rush of a wave to gasp for air - just before Coben’s hands at your throat shoved you back down. 

There were moments still when the feeling of water rushing into your lungs startled you awake at night. Your hands frantically moving around you to make sure you were safe in bed. That the sheering burn of pain in your chest was a terrible memory. 

You’d almost died that day. You should’ve died if it wasn’t for Usopp. 

You didn’t hear him or see him run up screaming. You just knew one minute Coben’s preteen hands were wrapped around your throat, and the next, you were up ended with Coben as Usopp slammed into him. 

There was no one else to help him. If the group turned on him he would meet the same fate as you, but he didn’t care. 

You were too weak to pull yourself out from the non stop crashing of wave after wave of fresh water. Your mouth vomiting up fresh salt water and bile while your lungs burned at the feeling of air. 

“Get out of here! Before I tell!” 

It wasn’t hard to see Usopp was scared. It was apparent in the saucer size stare of his eyes as they shifted back and forth between everyone. His homemade slingshot pulled back at the ready and loaded with another sharp rock. You’d thought Usopp had shoved Coben off you, but it wasn’t until he’d risen from where he’d collapsed at the ocean’s edge that the blood from an open wound was traveling down the side of his face. 

A fear like ice gripped your heart for those few seconds as Coben seemed to calculate his next move. If they tried to attack Usopp, you would do whatever it took to make sure he made it home to his mom. You didn’t have to worry about any further confrontation. 

“Come on boys. Let’s leave the freaks to themselves.”

Usopp waited until he was sure that they’d all left before he’d dropped his arms. His hands quickly put away his slingshot while he rushed to your side. It was Usopp who saved you. Who pulled you out of the water and held you as you’d sobbed. 

Unlike all of his other memories Usopp turned into stories of his grand adventures and heroics, this was the one story he never retold. 

What Arlong must have thought was that you were afraid it would make you talk or you would magically become something you weren’t. He didn’t know that what you feared more was your lungs being buried alive under fresh saltwater. He didn’t know what you’d feared most was dying all over again. 

“You are fucking crazy.”

Your words came out rushed and on the edge of a sob. You hated yourself for the sheer terror you let out, but it couldn’t be helped. All the resolve you’d built up the past few hours dissolved so easily at the mention of water. Your arms thrashed in their bindings as you moved to stand, but where would you go? You’d forgotten your ankle was still chained in place. 

The minute you moved Arlong was on you. His large hands grabbing at your shoulders and yanking you to stand on your feet. You weren’t sure if it was Kuroobi or Chew who released the shackle from your ankle but it didn’t matter. You couldn’t see past Arlong and his eyes that gleamed with a sadistic glee at whatever he had in store. 

“I’m not crazy. I’m a fishman with a vision, which you seem to lack. Allow me to help you to see your potential.” 

Of course. 

Of course, Arlong would want to use you for whatever it is you could do. Whether it was medicine or not. It didn’t matter what you said to him now. You could see looking into his eyes that he believed whatever he thought he’d seen and no amount of pleading from you would change your fate. 

“Come, little fish. It’s time for your baptism.” 

His sharp laugh cut through the silence of the room. You fruitlessly tried to make another run for it and found your feet being lifted off the ground and a sharp scream of pain sparked inside the room. Kuroobi held the rope that had been fastened between your wrist to use it to lift you up at an ungodly angle. One that forced your arms to go backwards up above your head. If Kuroobi wanted to, he could easily dislocate both shoulders from how they strained at whatever angle he tried to make them go. 

Arlong took the lead. He always did and like good little henchmen, Kuroobi and Chew quickly moved to follow. Kuroobi made sure that while he held you suspended slightly above the ground it was enough to allow your bare feet to drag across the floor. They’d taken your shoes the second time they’d come in. You’d expected them to take the shirt Nami gave you; maybe all of your clothes.

But Arlong said he was merificul and let you keep at least that. 

So, as you all made your way down the stairs and outside into Arlong Park the skin of your toes and top of your foot caught every loose rock and broken glass that laid scattered around from their partying. With each piece of glass that dragged across your foot your teeth grabbed at your bottom lip. All in a weak attempt to keep yourself from crying.

You were vaguely aware of the laughter from his men. They all seemed to find equal joy in your torture. In seeing how their captain brought the silly little humans to their knees and treated them like trash. It was something you could understand. You’d come to help them. To heal them and keep them from dying a slow and agonizing death. 

And yet…they enjoyed seeing your agony. Some of them even spit on the ground Kuroobi dragged you on. You could feel the growing need to cry growing in your chest. You’d done so good by not shedding a single tear for them, and suddenly being dragged around like useless cargo was what threatened to make you break. 

You wanted to go home. 

You wanted to see your Naan again. The desire to have her wrap you in her arms and slightly rock you as her fingers swept through your hair. The way she tucked your head under her chin and soothed you with a quiet humming tune of the nursery rhyme she sang to you since she found you. Naan would tell you to let it out. 

“There isn’t any sense in keeping it all bottled in to let it fester.”

But she also was scared of something. Whenever you got too angry - too sad - she would soothe you down the same way, but her words would change. It was never about letting it out but always about burying it deep down and trying to forget it. 

But how can you forget this, Naan? How could you forgive this?

The desperation that had begun to brew inside you was threatening to spill over. You were tired of being strong when your outcome was so uncertain. When your outcome seemed to only grow bleaker by the minute with no promise of sunshine in sight. 

Kuroobi gave a jolt that sent a fresh wave of pain through your spine and this time a small cry from that pain escaped your lips. It was so sudden you didn’t know a tear had broken free until you felt it skidding silently down your cheek. A name you were sure was Naan’s pressed to the back of your teeth and when you exhaled it released. 

“Zoro.”

His name came out in a shaky breath. A soft sob follows right behind it. It should’ve surprised you that it was his name your heart called for, but it didn’t. As much as you wanted to save yourself, a big part of you wanted him to come and save you too. Because you knew Zoro’s type of saving burned hotter than the flames of hell and consumed everything in its path leaving nothing left. 

“Where are you going with her?”

You knew that voice. You couldn’t see her. Not with your bad eye facing the direction she was coming from, but you knew it was Nami before she finally sprang into view. 

“Nami. Your friend and I are just going down to the water for a little swim.”

You felt sick. 

The panic crashed against your ribs and you didn’t know how to silence it. You didn’t know how to keep from swinging your arms in Kuroobi’s grip to try and see her. Even if it meant another blast of pain was sent to every nerve in your body. 

“She’s no use to us if she’s dead.”

Nami appeared stoic; her face empty and unmoving like her words. Or that’s what she wanted them to believe. For you to believe, but you caught the worry she tried to hide in the ice blue of her eyes. 

“I’m not going to kill her. She has information she seems keen on not sharing. I’m only going to see if she feels like talking once we get down to the ocean.”

Nami’s eyes ticked briefly in your direction. You wanted to ask her how you looked and if it was as bad as you thought. You were pretty positive you weren’t going to be winning any beauty pageants anytime soon. 

Normally, you would’ve tried to hold her gaze in a feigned act of defiance. You needed them to think she made you hate her and that you were a fool for choosing to come with her. You couldn’t hate Nami even if you tried. So, instead you turned your eyes away and looked down at the floor. It allowed her to stay in character too and pretend you were nothing more than a nuisance. 

“Make it quick,” she spit out. “A couple of the guys have been waiting for her so-called, “cure,” and are growing restless.”

At the mention of his dying crew mates, the smile of satisfaction Arlong seemed to wear like a badge frayed at the edges. The sadistic gleam in his obsidian eyes hardened to something that was impossibly more frightening. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she keeps her hands and that squishy little brain of hers.” Arlong gave Nami one last look before he signaled for Kuroobi to follow him. “Let’s make this quick.”

Kuroobi moved insync with each step Arlong took. A puppet guided by an individual string that compelled him forward with your body strung up like a yule tide duck. You couldn’t see Nami take a step forward, but you felt it. The anxiety on her face made her eyes frantically searching - thinking - of what she could do to save you. 

There was no saving you, however, and you knew this. Softly, you shook your head. Just a small shake. It was so small if you blinked you would miss it, but you knew Nami would notice. Just like she noticed almost everything else. It was all the strength you had in you to let her know to let you go.

Don’t make more of a fuss. 

That’s what you hoped your one good eye was able to plead with her. If she did, Arlong would begin to suspect she cared more about you than she’d originally let on. You couldn’t allow him another chance to wound her further than he already had. 

It was amazing how fast they moved. One minute, you were inside the Arlong Park compound and the next Kuroobi was dragging your feet through the scolding hot dirt roads. You wished this walk was as pleasant as the first. Yeah, the circumstances were the same, kind of. You were a hostage but at least, at the time, you were a hostage who got to enjoy the small things. Like the views. 

The second time around leaving the compound wasn’t how you thought it would go. Sure, the likelihood of it turning out like a novella where a knight in shining armor - or a moody green-haired swordsman - magically showed up to save the day was slime to none. It was a nice thought. As nice as thinking Arlong was magically going to grow a conscience and let you and Nami skip away out the front door. 

While your current predicament wasn’t what you wanted, you still at least got to take in all the striking orange of the tangerines that were scattered for miles. It was when the grove finally came to a stop and the trees turned wild and large that you knew you were close. 

You tried to prepare yourself and to let yourself believe maybe there was a way you could magically get out of this. But you knew your fate was sealed the minute the crash of blue broke over the treelines. All the resolve of bravery you tried to build up in the wonderland in your head came crashing back into reality. 

Suddenly, you were counting each sinking step of Kuroobi’s feet as they moved across the sand. The way the waves grew closer and the seagulls called out your impending doom. It wasn’t until you were mere feet from the wet sand that a sharp cry of, “No!” burst free from between your lips. Not caring about the eruption of pain that came when you tried to wiggle yourself free from Kuroobi’s strong grip. 

“There is no point in trying to get away. You sealed your fate the minute you decided to lie.”

“I haven’t lied to you, you fucking lunatic!”

You knew it wasn’t smart to answer him that way. It probably wouldn’t be smart to do it in any normal circumstance either, but you were past trying to stay pleasant. You had a strong feeling it wouldn’t matter if you kissed his ass and promised to pluck every rainbow out of the sky for him, you would still be where you are now. 

On your knees in wet sand inches away from the entrance to the ocean. 

“I know what I saw!” Arlong’s voice roared as he stalked over to you. A hand grabbing at your hair and using it to anchor you up to look at him. “You can call me crazy all you want but you human’s have always lied to our faces. You made empty promises that rang as hollow as the bullets you placed in our backs.”

“I get it,” you seethed through your teeth. “They were mean to you. Boo hoo! It doesn’t mean that all humans are like that.”

“You are all the same! Every last one of you is full of lies and you!? You are harboring something, girl, and I will find out what it is. Even if it means I have to bleed it out of you.”

“You believe what you want, but I know who I am.”

“Is that so?” 

You hated it when Arlong smiled like this. Like he knew a secret you didn’t and the information was only meant to benefit him and no one else. 

“If you believed that, there wouldn’t be so much fear in your eyes. Allow me to drown out all those unnecessary thoughts for you.”

Arlong moved quickly to grab you by your arms and drag you towards the waters edge. Your feet struggled to stand up to move with him; to bury themselves deep into the sand and attempt to put up some sort of fight. 

It was a losing battle and no matter how much you screamed and tried to turn your body out of his hold, you felt the first shock of cold against your skin. You knew once Arlong was in the water it would only be a matter of seconds for him to take you out. Fishmen were known for being faster than sound once they entered the water. You had no chance of fighting back as Arlong’s moved inside the water. His hand on your arm keeping your head below the water and secured in place so the waves couldn’t take you. 

The water filtered through your nose in seconds. The burning of saltwater in the back of your throat teleported you back to being that same terrified little girl. 

All I wanted was to play…

That time you had your hands and your nails to scratch and claw up at Coben’s face. You weren’t afforded that same luxury this time. You were quickly reminded that your arms and hands were hog tied behind your back. Your shoulders shaking violently to try and break free as your mouth finally opened, your lungs screaming for air, only to be greeted instantly by the suffocating rush of water. 

Arlong found a perfect spot that left you feet away from the edge of the shore. You knew he found the perfect spot because that was when his hand released your arm and was replaced by his large foot. He pushed you down and down until your back touched sand and even further until you could feel the sand digging into the still fresh wound of the brand on your back. 

The flare of pain caused you to scream. Your eyes watching as the last bit of air you had bubbled up to the surface. The only thing left for you to inhale was the saltwater of the ocean, and Mother Ocean was merciless in the way she wrapped her fingers inside their tissue and squeezed. 

You knew it was pointless to try and wiggle yourself loose. It just wasn’t going to happen with his foot keeping you trapped to the ocean floor. Just as fast as Arlong had placed you under he suddenly pulled you back up. When your face broke the surface you tried to take in a greedy breath, but instead your lungs vomited up the water it had consumed. 

“Do you feel ready to spill your guts, girl? Or should I let you marinate longer?”

You tried to talk around your coughing, but your throat was full of burning from your lungs.

“Ah, marinating it is then.”

A strangled shout was all you were able to get out before Arlong launched you back under. This time, however, Arlong leaned over to let his upper body dip under the water's surface. His smiling face following you down to the grave he wished to bury you in just to watch your body thrash uselessly under his foot. His smile growing wider with each hiccup your body involuntarily took in a reflex to get air. 

It felt like the water filled your lungs faster this time and that same weightless feeling you’d felt with Coben’s hands around your throat returned. This time, however, you knew there wouldn’t be a Usopp to come and save you. No one was going to save you and the weight of loneliness that thought had was enough to make you feel a different kind of pain. 

The edges of your vision were beginning to grow black and it was a welcome sight. Maybe death wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it meant this nightmare was over. Maybe in death you could find the peace you’d been denied by the living. A weightlessness began to take over your body and you found your willingness to follow the darkness terrifying, but you were tired. You couldn’t take this anymore. You couldn’t- 

Suddenly, Arlong launched you back out of the water. His large hand held you steady as your throat coughed up every last inch of water.

“Don’t go dying on me now!” He chortled. “We were just getting started.”

You were too weak to tell him where he could shove it. Your eyes were barely able to focus over the spots that filtered over your vision. Maybe that would explain why you thought the little girl hiding among the trees was a hallucination. Hallucination or not, you wanted to tell her to run. This scene was not one meant to be seen by a child, but before you could call out to her Arlong shoved you back under and everything started all over again.

You’d thrown up sometime ago in the sand. 

The only comforting part about it was that it was mostly water. The second comforting thing? Arlong, Kuroobi, and Chew seemed to have left you here. 

Oh, you were sure they would be back. There wasn’t anyway that Arlong was just going to let you go. You were part of his crew, after all. For now, you would enjoy what little moment of reprieve you got as you tried to collect yourself here on this beach. 

The beach where you died more than a handful of times. 

Every time you felt yourself begin to fade - when the darkness was more than happy to wrap its arms around you - was always when Arlong pulled you back. A part of you wondered if he knew. A shark smelling blood in the water and this blood was that of your wish for him just to let death take you. 

Dying had to be easier than this, but you couldn’t die. Not when you were waiting to see him again.

It wasn’t until they’d placed a rock on your chest to weigh you down that you felt something change. Something  dark was clawing its way feverishly to the surface. All the gut wrenching fear that Arlong built with each fresh surge of drowning twisted like a gnarled root to take shape into something sinister. The shape it created felt ravenous - eager to show him his own brand of fear with gnashing teeth and twisted bones. 

You were too far gone in your own despair for you to remember all of Naan’s warnings. The reminders that the darkness was never a giver, but a taker. As you watched a smokey trundle of blood weave its way from your body you knew you no longer cared. You had no room for it when your head felt ready to burst from pressure, your lungs like a fish tank, and sternum cracking with each breath from the weight of the stone. 

That’s when the sickeningly sweet whispers started again and, this time, you listened. The words they spoke grew like venom on your tongue. The whispers told you if you spoke their words out loud, Arlong’s smile would disappear. You could make him know what it felt like to be afraid. 

Arlong must have noticed something in you had changed because all the playful glee he’d shown while he watched your misery evaporated. For a split second, uncertainty flashed across his eyes and it was all you needed to know if you chased it, you could make him give in to fear. 

You never got a chance to see what would happen. If you could make him turn inside out. Just like before, they’d silenced you before you could complete whatever you’d started. Deep down, you were glad. Even though for a brief moment you no longer felt any pain - felt powerful - that wickedness had left a stain on your soul that you couldn’t get clean.

You refused to cry as you tried to get comfortable. You weren’t sure how that was supposed to even be possible, but you had to try. Realistically, you didn’t have the strength to get up and try and make a run for it. Even if you did, what would that mean for Nami? Where would you even go?

No. 

As hopeless as you felt - as everything felt - you weren’t going to run. 

You were trying to shuffle to your other side but gave up when you tipped over to your back. Your throat was raw like the muscle and chords you’d used had been removed, and your lungs felt worse. Truthfully, your whole body felt like shit, and it felt like too much work to try and do anything else than lie there like a sack of potatoes. 

You were about to look back up to the sky when you saw her. 

A dart of lilac hair attached to the same little girl you’d spotted earlier. The one you wished you could yell at to disappear. Tell her that this was no place for a child. You thought you’d imagined her, but as she made her way out from behind the safety of the trees and across the beach, you realized she was very much real. 

She’d only looked over her shoulders - left and right - twice. Both of those times told her that it was safe to make a journey over to you and you wanted to yell at her. To tell her she was being foolish and at any minute Arlong could return. It was horror novel worthy the way she recklessly trekked across the beach to an absolute stranger. No care for the possible danger that could spring up at any minute. The thought of what he would do if he did find her constricted your heart in a new form of terror. It was enough to get you to croak out a few words - pain be damned. 

“G-go…go ba-ck.”

The girl stopped for a brief moment and it was enough to give you hope that she was going to listen. You should’ve known better. When did any kid in the history of ever listen? Your words halted her movement for all of a second before she started forward again. This time her small legs picking up speed as she ran towards you. Once she reached your side she quickly dropped down to her knees. 

A tiny tote was over her shoulder and you watched as she opened it to reach inside and produce a tangerine. She held it up just to show you it was, indeed, a tangerine and went to peeling it open.

“I couldn’t find any clean water.” Gods, her voice sounded so innocent. So small. “But I remembered tangerines are juicy, and my daddy said our island has the juiciest tangerines. Maybe they have the power to make you feel better.”

You watched her work the peel off and stash the remains of it back inside the tote. The evidence of her kindness never reaching the sandy beach to give away that she was ever there in the first place. It was smart. You were torn out of your thoughts when he tiny hand pressed a piece of tangerine against your lips. 

“You should hurry and eat it before they come back. My daddy tells me the tangerines from our grove are special. They can make you strong enough to keep fighting.”

“Is there anything your daddy doesn’t claim these tangerines can do?” 

You mumbled before gently pulling the slice of tangerine into your mouth. Gods, this tasted like heaven. It was a fight to keep from letting out a moan of gratitude as the sweet citrus flavor washed over your tongue. 

All of that was replaced when you noticed your words caused a sudden shift in her demeanor. A wave of sadness consumed her. Her eyes darted down to the tangerine in her hand as she focused on peeling another slice free from its core.

“No. But…I know they don’t heal sick people. If they did, daddy wouldn’t be sick anymore.”

You couldn’t stop staring at her. This little girl with hair as vibrant as a wisteria and startling eyes that were bluer than the ocean. Those same eyes that conveyed her kindness held a deep sadness. One you knew all too well when a child watched someone they love slowly begin to die. 

She peeled another piece off and brought it back to your mouth, patiently waiting for you to open up just enough so she could tip the tangerine inside. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you spoke after you struggled to swallow the second tangerine. “It isn’t safe for you.”

“I know but….” She stopped mid sentence to take a cautionary look around before she continued. “I heard that fishman say you were a doctor.”

Ah, now you understood why she was willing to brave the wrath of Arlong just to come speak to you. She was willing to risk it all to make sure her father was going to be okay. 

You felt a small smile lift the good side of your face as you replied, “I am indeed a doctor.”

“Do you think you could come and look at my daddy? I can try and find some money to pay you. Please.”

“I would love to come by and see if I could help your dad, sweetie, but I’m currently…tied up.”

The brief flash of excitement that lit up her eyes died out in a smoke of disappointment. The next piece of tangerine she’d peeled sat inside her palm while she seemed to struggle with that new information. 

“Oh.”

Why did you feel like you’d crushed what was left of her hopes and dreams? She wouldn't look up at you now. Her fingers picking at the veins on the tangerine and when she sniffled you felt like you died. 

No, no do not cry! 

Your mind raced in what you could do to help make her feel better. What could you do with your arms tied behind you back and looking like…well, whatever Arlong made you look like. The only thing you could think of was something impossible, but if you could find a way to do it, you would help her father. 

“How about this? Whenever I get out of here I’ll come and find you-“

“In Coco Village?!”

The excited determination was back and it burned hotter than ever. Her small hand shoved the piece inside your mouth and you did your best to try and chew it before you choked. That was the last thing you needed. Death by tangerine. 

“Sure. If that’s where you and your dad are.”

“Oh my gosh mama is going to be so excited! And happy! Daddy’s been sick for a long time.”

She placed another piece inside your mouth and you quickly chewed it up. It was easy to ignore the sting the citrus caused your throat as you worried what would become of her if she stayed. After you finished the third bite, you offered up your name in greeting and were easily rewarded with hers in return. 

“Nazifa.”

You smiled at her softly and prayed it didn’t look scary. You weren’t exactly sure how you looked, but you were willing to bet after your latest adventure with Arlong you looked worse than before. If that was at all possible.

“Nazifa. That is a pretty name. What are you doing all the way out here?”

It appeared agreeing to come see her father significantly lifted the girl’s spirit. She was mimicking a hoping motion with her shoulders as she peeled another piece free and, without thinking, popped it into her own mouth. You couldn’t keep the smile from growing on your face. 

“I was looking for something to help my daddy. He’s been sick a long time.” 

“What were you looking for exactly?”

“Plants, silly!”

You wondered if now was the time to try and teach her the danger of ingesting just any plants but thought against it. Now really wasn’t the time to give a botany lesson lying on a beach looking like a crazy lady. 

“Of course.”

“But then I heard the bad man say you were a doctor and I thought maybe you could help my daddy.”

Nazifa leaned forward and placed another tangerine piece at your lips. You opened your mouth and eagerly ate what was offered. When was the last time you’d eaten? You’d been here with Nami for three days and you were sure you’d been offered nothing. Not that you could eat or drink in your current…predicament. 

“I promise I will help your daddy if I can, Nazifa.”

All the earlier happiness Nazifa showed seemed to erase in a second. The endless expanse of her blue eyes were solely focused on you; searching your face to see if there were any signs of dishonesty.

“You promise?”

Looking at her now you knew this was beyond important to her. This dealt with someone she loved beyond all reason. What little girl would willingly risk being caught to come talk to a hostage just because they heard the word doctor? Kids like Nazifa would. When all hope seemed lost as they watched the person they loved most slowly die in front of them. 

Without giving it much thought you felt yourself replying, “I promise, promise.” 

You meant it. 

This was one of the reasons you’d become a doctor. All those hours training under Naan - tirelessly watching the way she mended wounds and broken spirits. You weren’t sure exactly what her father had, no way to know until you saw him, but that was your goal. In the presence of this little girl, she reminded you why you needed to keep fighting.

You were going to get out of here. You were going to go to Coco Village and see Nazifa’s father and do what you could to heal him, because that’s who you were, and you would be damned if you ever let Arlong take that away from you. 

The sound of his name startled him awake.

Zoro knew it wasn’t just any voice he’d heard. No one else’s voice could make him rise from his hammock faster than you. The imaginary sound of you calling his name, laced with a frightful plea, worked its way inside his body like a haunting. There wasn’t any possible way that he could’ve heard you. There were still miles of sea laid out before him before they ever reached you and Nami. 

So, why did it feel as if a sickness was brewing in his gut? 

He swung his legs out from the hammock and scrubbed a harsh hand over his face. Zoro had gone to his room in the hopes of finding some sanctuary in the form of rest. No matter how many times he closed his eyes, his head was swamped with visions of you. A thousand scenarios played out of what could possibly be happening while you weren’t beside him. Zoro wanted to believe that every scenario didn’t play out in cruel ways that left him ready to split men in two; to remind him why he was given the nickname The Demon. 

But that one word - his name - felt too real. 

Come and find me, Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro.

Zoro knew he would do just that. It wasn’t a matter of whether he wanted to anymore, but of need. He wasn’t sure what he would do the minute he saw you. If he would just grab you, throw you over his shoulder, and carry your ass back to the Merry. His body practically begged to feel your fists beating against the muscles of his back. Your legs would kick aimlessly in hopes he would set you down with you slinging fun comments like asking if he was a caveman. 

It was funny. It used to irritate him when you would call him an asshole, but now? Now he would give anything to hear you say it again. For him to have the chance to make the playfulness in your tune catch and turn into something breathy. 

Yeah. He wasn’t going to be getting any rest anytime soon.

With a sigh of defeat, he reached back into the hammock and pulled the Wado free from where it had been placed next to him. Zoro moved swiftly to his feet and slid the sheath home inside his belt, which felt painfully empty. It was something he was going to have to remedy and fast. That could wait until after he did as he was told and saved you from your own stupidity. 

He made his way out of his room and out towards the bridge of the Merry. Zoro was looking for Luffy and found himself walking up to the stern where an all too familiar annoying voice made his presence known. 

“What was that? Why don’t you say it to my face? Hey! Morning, Champ.”

Not only did Nami and you leave, but you were both replaced by Zoro’s worst fucking nightmares. A waiter and a clown. 

Zoro didn’t mean to round the corner so fast. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Buggy anymore than Usopp seemed to enjoy his directional company. But here he was: being called out by the clown and Zoro was never one to back down from a fight. 

“I know Luffy made a deal with you to find Arlong, clown, but if this is another one of your tricks-”

“What are you going to do? Bleed on me? Tell me that I don’t mean anything to you, either, to hurt my sensitive feelings? Hey, speaking of not having any feelings, Zoro, buddy, since you don’t seem to want Doc, can I have a go at her? Seems only fair- OW!”

He hadn’t realized he’d lurched forward until his fingers dug into the bandana to the root of the hair below. Zoro made sure all the practiced years of grip training honed in on the clowns skull - a millisecond of a thought away from crushing it in his hand. Buggy must have noticed the threat from the predicament that he found himself in. Sure, Zoro could crush Buggy’s head in but he could also simply toss his ass out over the boat. One problem gone with it just leaving the waiter to deal with after. 

Yeah, Zoro kinda liked those odds.

He made his way back down the steps to the stern of the ship. The pleading of Buggy made his ears ring in annoyance.

“Whoa! Whoa! Wait. Whoa! What? Because I said bleed on me? You can bleed on me if you want. I mean, a deal’s a deal, all right? You want your girl back and the map. I want my body.”

Zoro flung Buggy’s head over the side of the ship and a burst of pleasure rushed through him as he watched his neck frantically begin to shake. He was well aware it was a petty move, but right now, petty felt fucking good. 

“How do we know you’re not leading us to a trap?”

“Zoro, buddy! Honor amongst pirates. Right? Come on. How about I sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time.”

The minute Zoro heard Buggy take a sharp inhale to start doing exactly that he backed away from the railing. He wasn’t in any mood to carry on this particular part of the conversation. 

“🎶Oh, there once was a girl with tangerine hair. Stole my map and left me stranded somewhere.” Zoro made quick work of the steps and to his pleasant surprise watched Usopp move towards the barrel he’d removed him from seconds before. “Truly a crafty and crooked young lass but you can’t deny she had a spectacular–🎶” Usopp pulled the lid off the barrel and Zoro didn’t hesitate to immediately drop Buggy inside. “OW! Right on my nose!”

So far this was the most enjoyable thing to his morning. As fast as Usopp pulled open the lid, with the same speed he closed it completely silencing the clown inside. The silence was instant and it was phenomenal. However, a part of him felt like he had a missed opportunity of true euphoria launching him out to sea. 

“Thank god for you, man,” Usopp huffed out with relief. “If I had to listen to him for another hour or so I was going to lose it.”

Zoro didn’t know how to reply. He just stood there and gave a small nod in welcome as his hands rested on the top of the Wado’s hilt. It wasn’t lost on him that Usopp mentioned it was only another hour. Was it really another hour before he heard someone calling out, “Land hoe!” Bringing him one step closer to finding you. 

He was going to have to inform you this was the worst game of hide and seek he’d ever played. Zoro watched Usopp head back to the helm of the ship. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel as he looked out over the ocean. His eyes were no doubt scanning for the one thing Zoro himself was equally impatiently waiting for. 

Zoro knew he was giving off awkward. He was still just standing there. Not saying a word. He was trying to think of how to ask his question without sounding desperate, but he knew once the question left his lips Usopp would automatically know why he was asking anyway. 

“So, you think we only have an hour left? Two at the most?”

Usopp glanced away from scanning the horizon to regard him before looking away. 

“You mean before we see the Conomi Islands or before we get to her?”

This time Usopp’s eyes landed on him and they didn’t tear themselves away. Not yet. Zoro was beginning to realize that he wasn’t the only person on this ship with a deeply rooted need to make sure you were safe. The years of embedded friendship were exposed all over Usopp’s face. Years that Zoro himself knew he could never replace, but only hoped to make memories of his own that were as fierce as the protective glean that shot through Usopp’s eyes. 

It was Zoro who broke first for once. His eyes moved back to the safety of the expansive blue ocean in front of them. 

“Both.”

His answer felt like a betrayal. He knew they needed to spot the island cresting over the horizon first. That had to be first because it’s not like he could magically teleport himself to you, but he couldn’t stop hating the weight of waiting. 

A heavy sigh tore him out of his thoughts and back over to Usopp. He wasn’t looking back at him anymore. Usopp’s eyes were now looking out where Zoro had run for shelter. Except, it seemed Usopp did it for a completely different reason. 

“Shit.” Whatever he was about to do, Zoro could feel the terror coming off him. “Look, Zoro-”

Those two words told him this was not a conversation he was hoping to be a part of. 

“I’m not sure exactly what it is that is going on with you and Doc but-”

“But?”

Usopp’s head shot over to him and he looked ready to shit himself. It took what little self-control Zoro had not to smirk at the obvious terror his one-word question caused him. It took Usopp a couple of tries to swallow past the lump that’d grown in his throat before he continued.

“I know she likes you and I seen what liking you did to her after you went and fought Mihawk. I don’t want to ever see her like that again, Zoro. Doc is family to me. You understand that? Whatever you intend to do when you see her -  make sure you make it right.”

Make it right. 

That was the one thing Zoro was struggling to figure out how to do exactly. Sure, he had a letter you’d left with strict instructions on how to do just that, but it would be a cold day in hell before he groveled. Roronoa Zoro didn’t grovel. 

He didn’t know how to respond to Usopp and, because of that, instead of trying he turned and headed towards the front of the Merry. If Luffy hadn’t been back here with Usopp, that meant he had to be either in the kitchen or the front. Maybe he’d find him riding on the ram’s head, which was his favorite place on the ship. Zoro could easily check the galley first, but if he could have fewer run-ins with the waiter the better.

The world must have been against him today. 

He could hear Luffy saying he wanted to make sure Nami was okay and a small part of Zoro did too. He hated to admit it, but Nami had become a friend to him in ways he hadn’t expected. Sure, Zoro knew he could chop it up to the times they’d been in danger because there was nothing like building a bond with someone when your backs were pressed together fighting against a common enemy.

And while he did worry about her he was more interested in answers than a sob story. He may have been wrong back at the Baratie when they’d been caught in a guessing game of, “Guess my trauma,” but Zoro hadn’t been wrong about Nami carrying a load large enough to crush her spirit. It was something that must have happened gradually. So gradual, that by the time she realized the baggage she’d placed on her shoulders it only dampened who she truly was. 

Zoro wanted to believe that when he rounded the corner he would find Luffy just talking to himself. It was a dumb hope, but the last person Zoro wanted to see when he rounded the corner was to be greeted with the most unwelcome sight of the waiter giving Luffy first mate advice. 

“A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong. Nami clearly needs to be rescued.”

Of course the waiter would say some shit like that. He’d practically swooned over her the minute he’d locked eyes with Nami at Baratie.

“Her tattoo says different.”

Zoro hoped those four words conveyed what he thought of him: an idiot. 

“Yeah, well, tattoos don’t tell the whole story. And like any woman, she’s a mystery to be unraveled.”

The tone of Sanji’s response told Zoro plainly what Sanji thought of him. An idiot. 

“Nami made her choice.”

“You don’t know why.”

“The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don’t know Nami.” 

“Sounds like you don’t know her either, Mosshead.”

“I’m sure Nami has her reasons.”

Zoro sniffed hard to keep from hurling his next words at Sanji. His eyes turned towards the open water because if he had to see the look on Sanji’s face one more time he couldn’t trust what he was going to say or do. The guy had been here all of a few days and suddenly he was a Nami expert. 

“And I know Doc has her reasons for choosing to do what she did. I just need to hear from them myself.”

You’d made your choice to save Luffy. Maybe in your mind you thought you were saving Nami too, but Zoro knew better than most that sometimes some people couldn’t be saved. 

“Land hoe!”

All it took was those two words to send Zoro’s adrenaline into overdrive. Land. He turned from the side of the ship to face forward and, sure enough, on the edge of the horizon was the first sight of land. 

The Conomi Islands. 

He was just a few miles away from being closer to you, and Zoro promised himself that this time he wasn’t going to let you go. 

After Nazifa left and Arlong and his merry gang returned, you’d ended up staying a little while longer on that beach than you originally wanted. Just a while longer with your belly filling up with sea water until your nose began to bleed and the sun disappeared behind the wall of mountains. 

It wasn’t a surprise you’d been too exhausted to walk anywhere. That’s how you ended with your dead weight slung over Kuroobi’s shoulder and brought back to Arlong Park. He hadn’t even tried to make you walk. 

Kuroobi dumped you back inside Nami’s room. Your room now. He made sure that before he left he locked the shackle back in place. A reminder that you weren’t going to be leaving this room on your own. You were left soaked, dirty, and blooded on the floor waiting for the next day to come. 

You could handle the bruises and the sores. You could even handle the shackle on your ankle. What you couldn’t handle was the cold. The island was warm enough during the day, but at night the island turned into a different season. The cold stone that layered the room only helped to seal in the dampness making the night feel like an eternity. 

You weren’t able to get any rest and because of that, when Nami came sauntering in you thought you were hallucinating. It wasn’t until she threw a pair of clothes in your direction that you realized you couldn’t be hallucinating an outfit like that. 

“Don’t you own any long sleeves,” you groaned. 

“I could just take them back and leave you to sit in soaked clothes.”

It took your body a moment to peel itself from the spot on the floor. Your hands pushed an aching body up off the floor that felt ready to crack at the slightest movement until you were at least in a sitting position. You regarded Nami before looking at the nice and dry clothes she’d thrown in front of you. 

“You are right. Dry clothes are better than wet ones any day.”

A soft smile curled her lips that helped soften the stance she’d taken on. Her arms were back to being guarded across her chest while her shoulder rested against one of the many pillars that held up the room. There was no way of knowing what she was thinking as she regarded you. Whatever it was, however, you were willing to bet not one bit of it was good. 

The small amount of mirth that smile awarded you in brightening up her face quickly dimmed to a shadow when you stood up. Your hands quickly worked the damp clothes off your body and into the ones she’d brought you. While you weren’t happy about being in another questionable top, you were happily surprised to find that she’d brought you cargo pants. 

“Since you brought me cargo pants all can be forgiven about the shirt.” 

“I seriously question our friendship with your weird love for cargo pants.”

“They are literally fashion’s utility pants.”

“Okay, Doc, no one should say that with a straight face and mean it.”

You wanted to tell her she was just hating on the amount of pockets that could be found on these bad boys. You hadn’t really learned to love them until you’d forgotten your satchel one day when you went forging with Naan. She’d chastised you relentlessly for being so foolish. 

“Your head is always up in the clouds where it shouldn’t be.” 

That was her favorite assumption. Your head was always everywhere but where Naan wanted it to be, which usually meant reality. Naan could complain all she wanted, however, you’d realize the nifty extra pockets scattered around your legs proved to be a great place to stick mushrooms and truffles. 

You’d successfully got them on and turned to let Nami know exactly what you thought of her and her distaste for efficiency, but felt the playful words become an afterthought once you saw her. You were positive she wasn’t going to cry. Not in this place. Whatever Arlong Park was to you, you knew it paled in comparison to her experience. 

While you’d had the pleasure of Arlong’s hospitality for almost a full week, Nami’s was longer. Surely, it had to be more than a few years worth of being subjected to hardening herself against whoever Arlong wanted her to be. You were willing to bet that the couple weeks she’d spent with all of you was the first time Nami got to enjoy finding out who she really was outside of whatever trauma she’d endured. The shackle attached to your ankle was a great reminder it belonged to Nami first. 

“What’s wrong?”

A soft scoff left her as her shoulder pushed away from the pillar. She began to walk the circle of the room while her feet kicked at the dirt floor. 

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Nami-“

“Don’t. Don’t try and tell me that this isn’t my fault.”

You felt your brow knit together at her words. You wanted to go to her but the sound of the chain scraping against the stone floor was a painful reminder you only had so many feet spared to you. Unfortunately, Nami resided over where you couldn’t reach her: her own private island of regret. 

“Nami, how in the hell do you consider any of this your fault?”

“Doc, have you seen yourself? If Luffy, Usopp, or jesus, Zoro saw what you looked like…”

This time you did take a step forward. You moved until you were at the first step and the shackled pulled violently against your momentum. 

“I know I’m not going to win any beauty contests right now,” you informed her, cutting her off. “But it’s like you said, you didn’t make me come, Nami. I came here on my own free will, and if I had to make the choice again I would still do it.”

“How can you say that after what they did to you yesterday?” 

“Yeah, yesterday did suck.” You couldn’t deny that. “It sucked a shit ton. I still wouldn’t change my decision to come to save Luffy. To save you.” 

You knew there was a chance saying that last part was going to drastically change her mood. You watched that very thing happen at lightning speed. One minute Nami appeared ready to repent for every bad thing she, and the world, had ever done and the next, a hardness resonated through her, stiffening her shoulders and rearing back her head like she was ready to spit venom. 

“I never asked you to come here for me and I don’t need saving.”

“Again, this creepy ass chain and shackle thing says otherwise.” In case she wasn’t familiar with what you meant, you made sure to point down to your latest accessory. “I’m your friend, Nami and nothing is ever going to change that.”

Nami shook her head and turned to face the door. You weren’t sure if she was going to look back at you or completely leave the room. The tension in her shoulders gave the impression she was ready to bolt. Another heavy sigh came from her and her arms released from their place across her chest. 

“I’ve been asked to take you out to get the ingredients for you to start making that antidote you promised Arlong. He said it’s about time you deliver.”

Arlong was lucky you needed to find ingredients to make some different tonics for Nazifa’s dad. You weren’t sure what he was sick with or if he could even be healed, but the most you could do is make something to make whatever it was just a little more bearable. 

“Are you going to have to walk me like a dog on a leash?”

If Nami could roll her eyes any harder they would’ve gone completely white. 

“Stop being so dramatic. You get to walk leash free.”

Nami walked down the couple of steps and bent down by your ankle. She produced a row of keys from her pocket and you couldn’t help but let out a “Thank god,” when she stuck the key in the lock and released its hold from your ankle. 

“Is that why you brought me cargo pants?”

Nami looked about as confused as you’d imagine someone would be when they had absolutely no damn clue what you were talking about. 

“Why would that be the reason I brought you ugly ass pants?”

“They are not ugly,” you reprimanded her. “They serve a purpose.”

“Purpose or not they literally do nothing for your ass.”

“Nami, I’m not changing and I don’t have a satchel. Arlong ripped it apart the other day when he destroyed what I’d brought from the Merry.”

Nami held up a finger indicating for you to wait before she flipped open her satchel. In a matter of seconds she produced a much smaller charcoal leather satchel and handed it to you. You cautiously took it while you flipped it over in your hands taking notice of the oddly placed straps and-

“It’s a thigh satchel.”

Nami must have taken note of your apparent confusion and thankfully told you before you embarrassed yourself by trying to put it on over your shoulders. 

“Oh. Cool.” You waited a breath before asking, “Why couldn’t you just get me a regular satchel?”

“I had to find something to offset the tragedy that is that outfit you’re wearing.”

“Oh yeah!” 

You fake laughed and Nami wasted no time in walking towards the exit. If the pep in her step was any indication, Nami was extremely pleased with herself. She wasn’t waiting for you to catch up and it forced you to rush out after her. A grumble of, “You got jokes,” humming past your lips as you took up step beside her. 

You weren’t sure how long Nami and you forged across the island, but you knew, no matter how long it’d been, it was the most free you’d felt in days. The beauty of it? You’d be able to find ingredients for the fish rot and plenty of others to make for Nazifa’s father. You knew that information wasn’t something Nami would run and tell Arlong about but, just on the safe side, you kept it to yourself. 

It felt good to be outside. Away from Arlong and Kuroobi and every other asshole who had made it their personal mission to see you miserable. Since you’d come to the Conomi Islands you didn’t get a chance to enjoy it past your first initial moment walking through the tangerine groves and the cautious gaze of villagers. 

You weren’t taking for granted the easy way your shoulders relaxed in Nami’s company. The way the breeze rolled through the groves and left the heavy handed scent of citrus in the air. You hadn’t noticed it before - how the air seemed to forever be stamped with the scent. Then again, you hadn’t been in the best place to really take it all in either. 

While you’d walked through grove after grove and into the forest beyond, you ran your hands against the coarse bark of the trees. Your fingers digging into the grooves that told the decades of growth that housed thousands of stories. You memorized the formation of vegetation and the different flowers that peaked beneath the sides of bushes or grew wrapped around huts like ivy. You wished you had more time to study some of them. To draw them inside your notebook and make small observations about the patterns of the soil they grew in and their roots. 

Every place you walked there were more mysteries for your brain to unravel, and it all came with their fresh crushing realization you wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of it. It wasn’t until you came to a grove surrounded by willow trees and hydrangeas with hues in lilac and blue-violet that your feet grew rooted to the spot. It wasn’t exactly like Irkhaven but it felt eerily close to it. You expected to turn and find Zoro standing at the entrance of the willows branches. A fresh flower plucked between his fingers and waiting to place it somewhere in your hair. 

The ache of never seeing him again felt worse than death.

It pained you when Nami informed you it was time to head back. It was the first time you considered running. To promise the devil anything he wanted to allow you to stay outside in the safety of the grove for just a little while longer.

When you got back to Arlong Park you were told you needed to start mixing up the medicine asap. Arlong already had a line of fishmen waiting for you to take care of and mend. It wasn’t something you minded, since it gave you access to open flames and mortars. Everything you told him you needed, Arlong made sure was there waiting for you when you and Nami returned. It made it all the easier to make other things along with the antidote for the fish rot. 

While you worked a part of you was overcome with the urge to alter what you made. It would be easy. You’d come across loads of fly agaric grouped together at the base of a tree trunk. Usually, you never would’ve picked up such an ingredient, but ever since you’d opened yourself up to the darkness you couldn’t get rid of the whispers. 

Evil wormed its way inside your mind like arsenic - poisoning every thought into something putrid. Naan warned you - chastised you - to keep away from the whispers and their sweet words. She’d asked you to swear to her you would never let it in. 

You wondered if she would forgive you for not being able to keep your word. 

Now, at times like now, as you ground up ingredients and placed it inside the beaker to boil something dark demanded you add it. Twist the organs of the men until they rot from the inside out. The more you tried to ignore the whispers, the stronger they seemed to get until they practically screamed; rattling around all your thoughts. 

So, when Nami told you that you were going with her to Coco Village you welcomed the distraction. Plus, it meant you would get to help Nazifa and, just maybe, helping her father would be enough to heal yourself. 

“You sure do like picking berries and grass don’t you?” Nami teased. 

Her words cut through your current thoughts as you tried to gently tug the last of the moss from the trunk of the tree.

“This is not just grass. It’s moss, and this specific strain is a great homeopathic to stimulate healing,” you informed her. “Also - where are these berries you speak of because I am starving.” 

Before Nami could turn away you easily caught the rise of her lips as her booted feet kicked at the ground. You wish she wouldn’t have tried to hide her smile. It would’ve been the first nice thing to see all day and the least moodiest look from Nami specifically since you’d left Arlong Park a second time. You weren’t a hundred percent sure what was said between her and Arlong, or why exactly she didn’t seem thrilled to go to this village, but Nami acted like she would rather be set on fire than go.

“Sorry, no berries here. Just an abundance of tangerines, though.” 

“Berries or tangerines: I will gladly eat both.”

Gods, did you mean it. You’d been without food since the few tangerines Nazifa fed you and the bread and water Nami snuck in just after you’d come back from your earlier expedition. You glanced over at your friend and found her deep in thought. You were getting ready to ask her if you could give her a couple berry for her thoughts when she spoke. 

“I’m glad he didn’t take that from you.”

“Take what?”

“Your love for what you do. Foraging and just…helping people.” 

“Arlong won’t win if that’s his goal. These hands were born to be knuckle deep in some earthworm's home.” By the way Nami stared at you, it begged the question: “Too much?”

Nami's response came in her shaking her head causing laughter to spill out with each flick. It was one of the best sounds you’d heard all day. You wish it would’ve stayed longer, but when you came to a wooden fence line, an obvious entrance to a village, all the happiness she’d shown evaporated in seconds.

“We’re here.”

“What exactly are we here to do?” 

Nami sighed out her reply. 

“We’re here to collect the villager’s tribute payment.” 

“Oh. Yeah, this doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a good time.”

“It’s not.”

The both of you barely crested the entrance to the village and were greeted by the sight of what looked like most of the villagers in the square. The constable stood facing everyone with a leather box in his hands open and waiting for the next set of villagers to empty out their life savings inside. 

Yeah. This was definitely not a good time for anyone involved. 

Your eyes scanned the crowd for a hint of a tiny figure somewhere among the downcast adults. You were about to give up when you heard a familiar voice shout your name. You were still looking for Nazifa when her tiny body came barreling into you from the left. Her arms wrapped tightly at your waist in a hug full of gratitude. 

“They let you out! And you came!”

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

It felt like you had to pry her arms off to get her to look at you. Her tiny body gave an excited jump before she launched herself back against you. Her arms wrapped around you and this time it felt just a little tighter.  You gave her a brief hug of your own in hopes it would get her to release you. 

“Are you making friends without me?” 

You glanced over at Nami beside you. Her eyes were wide with questions as they glanced from you and darted down to point at Nazifa. You offered her a shrug in reply that earned you a hard stare. 

“She fed me tangerines when Arlong left me out on the beach.”

Nami took a cautious step towards you to fill in what remaining space was left between you. The movement caused Nazifa to tighten her arms closer at your waist and your arms instinctively enclosed around her. The movement wasn’t lost on Nami but she didn’t let it keep her from leaning in to ask, “Doc, what are you doing.” 

“Her dad is sick, Nami.”

“And? What does that have to do with you?”

“I promised I would come and see him. Give them medicine to try and help him, if I could.”

Her eyes softened but not enough for her to back down. You already knew what she would most likely say. She wasn’t going to agree to this or find it smart.

“Doc-“

“Nami, please.”

“I’m not trying to be the bad guy here,” she whispered, her words fierce with pleading for you to understand. “But this is not a good idea.”

“Nami-“

“It’s dangerous, Doc.” Her words stopped whatever argument you wanted to make. How could helping people be wrong? “I need you to understand the risk you are taking in doing this. If Arlong finds out-“

“Who is going to tell him, Nami? You?”

Your words came out meaner - sharper - than you intended, but the irritation that flared through you wasn’t something you could hide. How could she tell you she was glad Arlong didn’t take away your love for helping others and turn around and tell you not to help Nazifa’s father? It felt contradictory. It felt hypocritical. It felt like a warning label being smacked onto your forehead. 

You tried to ignore the way she deflated at your words. The flash of hurt that dulled her eyes just before she locked herself away inside herself. Away from you. 

“No. I wouldn’t, but you are forgetting that people around here are desperate for food. You take away someone’s basic needs and you’ll see how quickly they’ll turn on someone for a few scraps.”

It was logical. It was more than logical and you knew it, but with Nazifa still holding onto you…how could you tell her no? How could you send her home after she’d desperately searched for help and found you? You knew if you sent her away it would do more than just kill her father. Whatever magic Nazifa thought the world held would be gone in that one moment, and you would be damned if you were the villain in her story. 

“I hear you, Nami, I do.”

“You aren’t going to listen to me are you?”

You couldn’t answer her. All you could afford was a sharp nod of no to give her the answer she dreaded. Nami turned away from you and faced the large group of people. You wish you could’ve said something to ease whatever thought she had, but you knew it would be a lie. Nami placed her hands on her hips as she spoke. 

“Whatever you’re going to do, make it fast. I’ll handle this on my own.” 

Your heart sank as you realized maybe what Nami found more disappointing was that she’d expected you to be there for her. Whatever this village was to her and her past she’d expected you to be there with her while she did this. 

You didn’t know what to say so you took Nazifa’s hand and motioned for her to lead you to where you needed to go. The little girl did so without hesitation. She dragged you back towards a close knit row of huts off to your right. You thought she was about to take you completely out of the village when you stopped at the very last house. 

Once inside, you’d found an elderly woman at the bedside of a man you could only guess was Nazifa’s father. The elderly woman tried to rise up from her chair when Nazifa informed her just who you were. 

“It’s the healer, Va.” 

The healer. The doctor. Medicine woman. Witch. All of these you’d heard during your time with Naan. None of them had ever been used to describe who you were until you’d joined Luffy’s crew. 

Luffy who believed in you more than you’d ever believed in yourself. Usopp who talked you up even when you felt like you could never compare. It was at this moment inside of Nazifa’s family’s hut that you had the chance to prove exactly what you were capable of. You weren’t Naan. You didn’t have decades worth of knowledge and experience, but you knew you could be better. Naan never left Syrup village. Her knowledge was limited. Her encounters with those who were sick even more limited. 

You could do better. Be better. 

You took in a deep breath as you moved forward with more confidence than you felt. Your eyes swiftly did a visual assessment of the parlor of his skin, the yellow of his eyes, and the struggling breaths that deepened at his thorax. You set to work pulling out a stethoscope Nami had tucked inside the thick satchel along with the tonics you’d brought and set to work. 

By the time you left the hut and headed back towards where you’d left Nami you felt a strong sense of accomplishment. While you hadn’t exactly been able to find out what it was that was making Nazifa’s father so sick, you’d improved his breathing and eased his suffering enough that he was able to finally sleep. You’d left behind an antibiotic of sorts to help fight any infection that might be in his blood and promised to come back to check on him. 

You were almost back to where you’d left Nami when you heard her. There was no mistaking the anger in her tone; the fear that made each word wobble in uncertainty. 

“Luffy. What are you doing here?”

Luffy??

Luffy was here? If Luffy was here then that meant…

No. No, you couldn’t let yourself hope that he’d been crazy enough to come and get you - to come and save Nami. But you knew, even without the years of knowing someone like the way you knew Usopp, there was no way Luffy would let Arlong keep you. 

Your eyes scanned over the crowd as it began to disperse. You were struggling to find the mint green of her tank top. It had to be the easiest thing to spot it had to be- 

You knew that bandana anywhere. You’d saved up two months of your allowance helping Naan to get him that one for his fifteenth birthday. 

“Usopp?”

You needed to know it was him and that your eyes weren’t playing cruel tricks on you. You were rewarded with his head whipping up - searching - for the owner of the voice. Your voice. When his eyes landed on your figure the result was instant. The both of you broke out into a run that ended with you colliding into one another. The force of his body slamming into yours knocked the wind out of you, but you didn’t care. Not when your arms were able to find a home around his shoulders. It was easy to forget that your ribs were bruised until he squeezed just a little too tight. 

In a flash, you felt like you were seven-years-old again and back on the beach. Usopp’s slingshot spread back to ward off anyone who would try to harm you. The memory made your arms tighten like ivy around him with your face burying deep into his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey, everything is going to be okay, Doc. The Great Captain Usopp has come to rescue you.” 

You didn’t want to peel yourself off him, but his hands were already on your shoulders and gently moving you away from him. He hadn’t seen yet what you looked like. It’s hard to get a clear view of someone when they are sprinting head on towards you. You tried to keep your eyes directed at the toes of your boots, but an all too familiar cook’s voice snapped your head back up. 

“Jesus, Doc, what did they do to you?”

You didn’t give him a response. You couldn’t. Not when you felt a dam of emotion crashing against your chest. If you spoke, you might break. So, you reached up and quickly pulled Sanji into a hug of his own and, without question, he responded in kind. His hands, however, held you more delicately than Usopp. Sanji saw your face. His eyes no doubt took in the extent of the damage to your body and deemed you fragile like fine china. 

You tried to think of what you should say. What you should ask. 

Ask about him. 

That’s what you really wanted to do until your eyes peaked over Sanji’s shoulder. The glimpse of moss-colored hair forced your arms to retract from the hug sooner than you would’ve liked, but your racing heart demanded confirmation that you weren’t being delusional. That Arlong hadn’t drowned every last bit of sanity from your mind. 

It wasn’t until Sanji released you and stepped back that Zoro came into view and, suddenly, your world felt whole again. 

You were hugging the waiter. 

Zoro could handle you hugging Usopp. It was logical. It made sense. But the waiter? Zoro wondered what fresh hell he’d walked into for this to even be a possibility. 

It wasn’t until he watched your arms slowly relax away from his shoulders that he prepared himself for when you would turn and face him. When you would finally realize he was there too and waiting along with everybody else. 

In a million ways this scenario played out in his head. While he’d laid aboard the Merry in his hammock staring up at the ceiling and imagined how you would look seeing him awake. Would time stop like it had in his dream? With your eyes glassy - ready to shatter - and your lips parted with either curse or praise ready for his to take on. Or when he’d stood at the stern of the ship, a piece of the broken bottle he’d shattered in his room pressed tight in his hand, as he looked out over the cerulean waters and played out how you’d both react to seeing each other again. 

Realistically, he wanted to remain stoic and calm. Zoro liked to imagine you, however, bolting towards him with all your chaotic energy bursting at the seams and engulfing him. His body instantly reacting to the charge of your body colliding into his and demanding his reaction. But Zoro himself? He couldn’t see himself being anything less than who he was, but the minute he heard your voice shout Usopp’s name, Zoro could no longer deny the way his heart raced. 

He wanted to hear you call his name with the same excitement and end it with the same breathless sound of disbelief. The jealousy that enveloped his heart and squeezed until he was ready to snarl felt like a dangerous thing when he realized the waiter had moved forward after Usopp let go and you’d wrapped your arms around him. The asshole practically tugged your feet off the ground with how tightly he held you. 

It must have been the sound of his thumb flicking the Wado Ichimonji free from his sheath that reminded everyone that he was there. It reminded the waiter he was there by the way his shoulders tensed: the way his arms dropped like a shrug from your body to step back and stare at Zoro. 

Zoro couldn’t care less. 

He’d been waiting - daydreaming - far too long about all the scenes that could play out. The desperate way his hands ached to reach out and touch you. Zoro knew he wanted you in every single way he could have you, and gods be with whoever got in his way. 

Waiters included. 

He wanted to have you come barreling towards him - to knock the wind out of him from being so excited to see him. It wasn’t until you’d let go of the waiter that Zoro realized you did knock the wind out of his lungs, but not in the way he’d hoped. 

You looked like his but something was wrong. The fire that burned behind your eyes was dulled out until it quietly roared. The smile that brightened up your face now barely moved past the cracks on your lips to shine a painful light on a kaleidoscope of bruises and cuts that decorated your face, neck, and - 

How far did they go? 

Zoro had imagined himself being stoic and unmoving; waiting for you to collide into him. Instead, he felt his body close the final gaps between the two of you in three solid strides with his hands carefully grabbing at your face. He saw the wince just as his palms touched down on your cheeks, and his thumbs gently moved you around so he could get the full extent of what exactly he was seeing.

“Who did this?”

A fire hotter than hell raged in his belly. It roared in his veins and threatened to burst out of him in a blur of cuts and violence. He wanted to kill every son of a bitch who’d laid a hand on you. 

“Zoro-“

It was the first time he’d heard you say his name. He’d imagined it sounding sweeter than the caution that was laced in your tone. 

“I know you’re an idiot but you can’t be that much of an idiot, shit stick,” Buggy snapped from inside the pouch at the waiter's back. You looked around confused and, if it was different circumstances, Zoro would’ve thought it was cute. “Obviously, whatever it is, Arlong did it. Again. Bad. Fish. Get it, yet?”

Zoro could tell it was true. The fear that flashed in your eyes. The sheer hatred that came after that took him by such surprise it knocked back his next words. It was all he needed to know that whatever it was this fishman was doing, it was enough to make your rose colored glasses fade into something horrific.

Zoro wasn’t sure why that thought broke him as much as it did. 

But he could see it wasn’t just Arlong. The more he looked, the more he could see from the tank top you wore a deep bruise that bloomed upwards like a riptide from between your breasts. The shallow breaths you took indicated to him your ribs were either fractured or broken. 

With every new swipe of his eyes across your body a new horror was unleashed and Zoro could barely think straight. His body vibrated violently as he held you, to the point your own hands wrapping securely at his wrists wasn’t to ground you, but him. 

The flash of orange hair in his peripherals told him Nami had finally made it to the group and his eyes lashed out to take hold of where she stood. 

“You let them do this to her?” His voice was the epitome of darkness. The boogeyman in body and voice as he tried to let you go and move towards Nami. 

“I didn’t let them do anything to her.”

Nami deserved more credit. The flash of uncertainty moved like a reflection through her icy expression just enough to know she was nervous. 

“She went to protect you and this is how you repay her?” Zoro sheathed. 

Whether it was to protect Nami or make sure she wasn’t alone it didn’t matter. Zoro knew you left to protect Luffy, but he also knew it was to protect Nami too. Whether it was from Arlong or herself, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact you believed you were doing it in the service of helping, and all Zoro could see was the abuse of that trust. The abuse of you. 

He tried to pull away but you moved in front of him. Your hands still holding onto his wrists even as he’d dropped his hands from your face. His hand struggling to find the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji for - for what? 

“Doc made her choice to come. Nobody asked her too, and I don’t need protection. I don’t need any of you.”

Her words only threatened to send him further over the deep end. He watched as you closed your eyes listening to Nami as she directed daggers at every single one of them. Zoro wasn’t sure if it’s because you’d heard the same speech on repeat or if it was something else. Maybe there was something else there they couldn’t see. It all felt possible because when you opened your eyes again to look up at him a tiredness settled into your shoulders and deepened the lines on your face. 

He should’ve asked more questions. Should’ve cared to do so. All Zoro cared about was the way you looked at him. 

Save me, Pirate Hunter…

His eyes roamed over your face and he knew he would do whatever it took to do just that. 

Luffy moved forward to talk to Nami, and Zoro wanted to tell him not to bother. This whole trip felt like a waste to save someone who didn’t seem particularly ready to be saved. Zoro thought you did, but something was gnawing at him. 

Let Luffy handle Nami. He would handle you. 

Zoro was steeling himself to say - what? He wasn’t sure and for a heart stopping minute it didn’t matter. Not when you looked up at him with mischief in your eyes and a smile that ruined his whole world. 

“I am so, so happy to see you’re awake.”

I woke up for you. 

A braver man would’ve said it. A man looking at the woman who had bewitched them both body and soul would say it. Zoro wanted to say it. He needed to get it out but he was torn between words and actions. He allowed himself to give into one of them when a tear slid down your face. His hand moved up to have his finger gently wipe it away. 

“I came to save you.”

A soft laugh pushed past your lips. Zoro wanted to crash his against yours to capture the sound and house it inside him forever. 

“I know.”

And you did. Surely by now there was no way he was being stoic; an unreadable force that stood unmoving against your hurricane. Zoro knew he was swept up and for once he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure what he would have said in return at that moment. All thoughts ceased when Nami’s words cut through the fog and reminded him of where they were. 

“Come on, Doc. We have to head back.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think I’m letting you take her anywhere.”

Zoro’s words were final. He wasn’t leaving any room for discussion. How Nami would think even for a second that Luffy himself would let her take you back was beyond-

“I have to go-“

“Doc, you don’t need to go anywhere.” 

Luffy took a small step forward to remind you that he was there too. They were all there for you, but he made sure that Zoro and you still resided alone in the space Zoro created. 

“Doc. Look at you.” 

Usopp didn’t just sound defeated. The heartbreak was evident in his entire body as he motioned towards you. Usopp mentioned looking but he wasn’t able to do it himself. Every time Zoro caught him trying to stare at you, he watched as Usopp turned away. 

“How can you ask to go back - expect any of us to let you go back - when you look like this?”

If Zoro couldn’t make you see reason then maybe it would be Usopp. You’d tucked your chin against your chest, which made it impossible for him to see your eyes. Zoro didn’t need to see you to know what you were going to say. 

He was sure it was meant for everyone, but your voice was so soft Zoro could barely hear you. He wished he hadn’t. 

“You don’t understand. If I don’t go back he’ll hurt Nami or someone in the village. I can’t just leave.”

All the rage his body had begun to release came flooding back. He wanted to shake you - scream that you were being a fool but Zoro knew it was pointless. He remembered the determination that hardened your eyes in that damn lavender field when you told him caring didn’t make someone weak. Maybe it didn’t make them weak, but it sure as hell made them stupid. 

His nerves were frayed at the end and, like a drowning man, he reached for something to keep him grounded. Zoro was aware that both of his hands were back to clutching onto your face like the waves to the shore. His thumbs absentmindedly running along your checks to soothe either you or him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t care that the position left no space between either of you. Zoro could care less what anyone thought or how intimate it placed you. What could he do to make you see that going back was suicide? 

Your hands were clutching at his wrists and Zoro allowed himself to believe that it meant you were staying. That the pleading in your eyes was for something else unspoken and not for him to let you go. How could he do that when he’d just found you? He could feel his own plea building at the back of his tongue. 

How was he supposed to let you go when you were going back to danger? When you were going somewhere he couldn’t follow and he couldn’t protect you the way he should. 

“And what about me?” 

Those four words fell without permission from his lips, and Zoro silently hated himself for it. He wanted to be selfish and say them. There wasn’t any denying it. He wanted to keep you rooted next to him forever and kill anything that tried to harm you again. Zoro wanted it so badly he could feel his hands tightening around you, his hand itching to take hold of the Wado and plunge it into every last fishmen who’d been fool enough to touch you, and it took every last ounce of strength he had left to stop. He didn’t want to put you in a place to choose, but the swelling of your right eye and the delicate mapping of purple and green bruises under the surface of your skin demanded he did. 

“Zoro. Please. Please, don’t make me choose.”

You did whisper this time. Your voice was too soft to carry past the small space he’d created with his body. Zoro was aware that what little space that’d been left between the two of you was gone. His body having closed it without him knowing, and his forehead inches away from resting down on yours. 

“I can’t let you go back.”

The words choked their way free from his chest. They weren’t tinged with sadness or melancholy, but colored in every last ounce of self-control he had left. 

This time, he did allow his forehead to dip those last remaining inches to gently press against yours. He hated how his own voice, under all that hellfire, sounded weak. He wanted to be strong, but a sickness of fear was brewing in his gut. The unknown weighed down on him until it threatened to crush him into the dirt. 

“What do you want me to say? What is it you need me to say to keep you here? What if I tell you, right now, I’m sorry-“

“Zoro,” there it was - the crack in your voice. “Zoro, I am begging you not to do this now.”

“Why not? What if this is the last time I get to see you before you run off and play the sacrificial lamb.” 

“You act like I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for you too!”

Your words dimmed the tide of his rising anger. It wasn’t real. He knew his growing rage steamed from the terror growing in his chest that he would let you go and this would be the last time he’d ever get to hold you. Feel his hands on your face and your eyes looking up at him like you wanted nothing else but him. 

Zoro prayed you could see how much he wanted you - how stupid he was to deny the fondness he held for you in his chest. He believed that you both had nothing but time stretched out before you, and he was learning painfully fast that life didn’t play by romanticized thoughts. 

He should’ve told you sooner…

“And you act like I wouldn’t give mine just to make sure you were safe. I woke up and found you gone with a stupid letter telling me to apologize.”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re doing much of any kind of apologizing, by the way.” 

There you were. That light smile on your lips that tilted them just enough. It wasn’t a full one, not the one he'd groan to love, but it was enough. The spark of mirth in your eyes that rose like a shooting star and fell just as quickly. 

“That comes after she admits that she needs to stay next to me where I can keep her safe.” 

He already knew what you were going to say before you looked away from him forcing him to release his hands from your face. He knew your answer as if you were both tethered together, because only though it had been a few weeks, Zoro knew you enough that you would never let someone take your place. 

When you looked back at him, Zoro felt his world spin as he tried to quiet the rushing tide of blood to his heart. He needed to keep his composure for you, but knew he was failing miserably. He felt so helpless and it only grew worse when the first tear slid down your cheek. 

“He will hurt Nami. The village. The children. One life for the life of many is a small price to pay.” 

“And what if I say it’s a big price for me? Why can’t you see that? I’m not great with words. I don’t say the right things -“ he spoke your name and Zoro watched the way it affected you. He would say it over and over again like he was worshiping at your altar if it would make you stay. “A piece of me will die if anything to you. Do you understand that?” 

And there it was. The truth Zoro had wanted to stay away from. Seven years ago, he found out what it felt like to lose someone he loved. 

Kuina. 

Seven years and the pain of her loss stuck with him like a fresh wound. The promise they’d made the only memory he could carry forward for her along with her sword. What could he keep with him if you died? A shattered bottle and words of regret to gather dust on his conscience.

“Doc, we need to go. Now.”

Zoro couldn’t stop himself from tearing his eyes away to look at Nami who was currently looking at all of them like she hated every last one of them. The rage that Zoro had suppressed was stoked back to life at Nami’s words. It was a welcome familiar feeling compared to his chest feeling like it would cave in at any minute. The harsh way she spoke to you like you weren’t her crew mate - a friend. Like you weren’t risking your life for her the same way Luffy was. 

“She’s not going back with you,” Zoro snapped. His own jaw set tight as that rage boiled hot under his blood. “You can go back on your own and deal with your own consciences.”

“Excuse me?”

Nami didn’t back down under the weight of his gaze; the way his eyes dug daggers into her. 

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I heard you, but she’s about as much a part of this crew as I am. Which is none. She’s branded an Arlong Pirate, just the same as me. Doc. Let’s. Go.”

Branded? Where? 

You went to step back and Zoro’s hand lashed out to grab at your forearm to yank you back. You were about to crash into his chest, his other arm ready to lock around your waist, when you surprised him with your own fit of strength and pulled yourself free, causing youself to stumble back. 

“Enough, Zoro!” You hissed. “I’m going back and it’s final. I’m not going to let someone else pay for my choices.”

His body threatened to lurch forward again. To grab you and throw you over his shoulder if thats what it took to get you to come back to the ship with him. Before he could even make his move, you gave him one last look before you turned on your heel and jogged over to Nami leaving him where you’d both stood alone. He watched as Nami cast them all one last look of defiance before she said something to you - something that made you both move faster out of the village. 

A nervous laugh cut through the tension the silence created, and Zoro didn’t have to look over to know it was Usopp. He was currently adjusting his bandana as he watched until your retreating forms completely disappeared from view.

“That went about as bad as it possibly could have gone,” Usopp laughed, his voice filled with unease. 

“We should have stopped Doc,” Sanji huffed. “Did you see how she looked?”

“We all saw how she looked,” Zoro snapped. 

Sanji’s eyes narrowed in on him and Zoro was ready to welcome the fight. Anything to release the storm of emotion that was building inside of him. 

“Yeah, you saw it, and yet, you let her go. Some big man you are.”

Zoro felt his feet shift in the sand with his hand on the hilt of the Wado, ready to unsheathe the blade, when Luffy thoughtlessly moved between them. His eyes still turned towards the gates of the village you’d left through. 

“I bet Doc knows something more than she can say.”

“How can you be so sure, Luffy?” Usopp asked. 

It didn’t surprise Zoro to see a small smile creep at the edges of his mouth in an attempt to lighten the load of his thoughts. He was trying to put them all at ease, which felt like a mountain of a task with the memory your battered body left on their souls. 

“Because I know, Doc. She leads with her heart, and I’m going to trust her on this. Come on. We are going to do some digging of our own. Hey, scar guy!”

With one final glance at the gate all four of them moved towards the gentleman standing at the edge of his house. His eyes filled with distrust as he watched them move towards him. Zoro could care less about finding out more information about Nami and her reasons, but if it helped him get closer to wherever you were he would gladly follow Luffy’s lead. As long as it leads him back to you. 

Nami and you walked in silence. You didn’t know what to say and, by the way she was gripping the tribute box, neither did she. You weren’t sure what had been said between Luffy and Nami. What she said to the rest of the crew. You knew whatever it was it hadn’t been the truth, and saying it had broken another piece of who she was - what she wanted. 

You wanted to comfort her. Say some pretty words that may, or may not, heal her world like the magic inside the books of fairytales. You wanted to have magic the way fairy godmother’s seemed to have where all the girls’ dreams came true, and all the bad things in their life made sense.

Sometimes, bad things happen to those least deserving. It didn’t have a rhyme or reason. The world just wasn’t built on make believe no matter how many times when you were little you hoped it was. Yes. You wanted to say something profound and meaningful, but another part of you wanted to turn around and run back to him. 

Zoro was awake. He was awake and okay, well, about as okay as one could be when you’re still healing a large gash across your chest. 

I came to save you. 

You wish you could memorize those words - the way he looked at you - forever in the pages of your notebook. Maybe one of these days you would commit the image to the page, buried between recipes and diagrams of plants and the body. Your own secret page bookmarked with a snowdrop. 

Zoro didn’t say it. Not outright that what you felt that night in the galley wasn’t just you. Somewhere along the lines of annoyance, the two of you had unexpectedly fallen for one another. For so long, you thought it was just you. That you were crazy and the shared looks as you both said goodnight were just your imagination. He had always been intense. The way he looked at you and the weight of his gaze that always felt like a challenge. You never realized before but, while that same intensity hardened the darkness in his eyes, Zoro softened just a little when he looked at you. 

You witnessed it today when his hands took hold of your face and became rooted there to hold you. His body pressed itself against yours in a way you weren’t even sure Zoro had been aware of. It all happened so fast. An embarrassment burned against your cheeks as you remembered his reaction came from seeing you. 

How awful did you look? 

You didn’t know - couldn’t know. Mirrors weren’t really a luxury afforded to you at the moment. Not that you really wanted to know how you looked. You were so deep in thought you hadn’t realized Nami came to a stop a few feet back. The sound of her calling your name bringing you back to the present. 

“Earth to Doc! Where are you going?”

“Sorry, I was just-“ Nami waited for you to answer and you would have if you didn’t finally notice she was holding a shovel. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Hey, why are you holding a shovel?”

This is Grade A detective work you were doing. For further emphasis, in case Nami didn’t quit get what you meant, you added in a little pointing to drive the question home. 

“The village was short on their payment. I can’t go back to Arlong with what they have.”

“Yes. Okay. I’m not following. Why do you still have a shovel?”

The eye roll Nami gave was heard by the gods. She didn’t answer you right away. She took off her satchel and set it down beside a tree and walked over towards the opposite side of a grave site. The shovel struck down hard into the earth and brought up dirt all before she answered you. 

“If we go back without the full amount, Arlong will send someone to that village and have them killed. Since no one paid the tribute fee that means all of them will be killed. Do you get it now?”

You felt sick. Your own feet carried you over to the opposite side of Nami. You needed to see her face when you asked her, “Why is it called a tribute payment?”

You felt like you knew why it was a tribute. You just hoped maybe, for once, Nami could prove you wrong and the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Nami rolled her tongue across the inside of her cheek as she regarded you. A sinking feeling was growing as you realized she didn’t want to say it either. 

“It’s a tribute to Arlong for letting them live. They can’t pay, and they lose their usefulness.”

“Okay. So, again I ask, why are we here? What’s with the shovel?”

“I have money, okay! I have money buried here to pay for every last villager so that way Arlong doesn’t attack them.”

Nami’s chest was rising and falling like she’d just run a marathon. Or finally spoke her truth. How long had Nami paid for every villager to keep them alive? How long had she continued to be the figure of their hatred without them ever knowing exactly what it was she sacrificed for them?

“Nami-“

She swiftly held up her hand to stop you from continuing. 

“Don’t, Doc. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Nami! What else have you been doing? I knew it. I knew there was no way in hell you would work for that asshole without a reason.”

“And what do you think it is going to prove?”

“That you are a good fucking person, Nami! A good person who deserves so much more than this.”

You were both screaming at each other. The two of you are a mirror of the self-control that was slowly dwindling between the rapid rise and fall of your chests. You took a cautious step towards her and for a moment you thought she was going to hit you with the shovel to keep you away. 

“Nami, Luffy is here. He came here for us. If you tell him what is going on-“

“He doesn’t need to know. I have the money to pay for the villagers and to buy back the village. Once that’s done, I’m done with Arlong.”

I’m free. Those were the unspoken words that clung to the air between you. You wanted to ask her if she really believed that, because you didn’t. You’d only known Arlong for a week but it was enough to tell you he wasn’t going to let anyone go. 

“You don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore. Please, let me go back and tell Luffy.”

“No. After what I said to them…”

She couldn’t finish. You didn’t know what all was said, but you knew Luffy was still here. That underneath all the denial Nami threw his way, Luffy had been able to see it was just a defense mechanism. You weren’t sure if magic was real in the world, but if it was real, somehow Luffy possessed a form of it. He had the ability to see people for who they truly were. To see the dreams of others, and believe in them even when they didn’t believe in themselves. 

Nami was always the one who never mentioned a dream she held close. In the nights when promises, hopes, and dreams were mentioned Nami never shared hers. Everyone assumed she just didn’t have one - that the world jaded her enough to completely steal it away. Only Luffy knew deep down she had one and wasn’t willing to give up on her until she realized it too. 

“You know, no matter what you’ve said to him, Luffy isn’t going to hold it against you. You don’t have to do this alone, Nami. Not when you have a family who loves you.”

Your words jerked her head up and she looked ready to bolt. To argue with you and tell you that she didn’t have a family - you weren’t a family, but family didn’t need to be by blood. Blood didn’t make someone love you. It was the choice to do so, and even if Nami fought you until she was blue in the face you would still choose to call her family. 

You took a step towards her and stopped just mere inches from her. Your hands carefully reached out to grab her shoulders to help her understand you weren’t going anywhere. 

“I’ll only tell Luffy if that’s what you want, Nami, but I promise you the rest of them feel the same way. They wouldn’t have come here for you if they didn’t.”

“Zoro came here for you,” she noted. 

“That’s besides the point.”

Nami looked at you and for once she did it without her usual mask of indifference. The only thing you saw in her eyes was a mixture of fear and relief and you weren’t sure which one it was that was winning. 

“This isn’t your fight. Why would you do this? I don’t understand.”

“I told you. We're family. I know you aren’t leaving until you finish this, and I’m not leaving without you.”

Nami’s worry became all the more evident as her teeth began to gnaw at her bottom lip. She was struggling to decide what action to take. Your offer would remain even if she told you right now it wasn’t going to happen. You meant it when you told her that you weren’t leaving this hellhole without her. 

You were about to say something else - maybe less heartfelt and more cringy - but Nami saved you by blowing out a breath. You dropped your hands away from her and waited as patiently as you could for her answer. 

“Okay.”

“Yes!”

You couldn’t keep yourself from doing a victory jump. You wish Usopp was there. You both could’ve been jumping and screaming together. 

“If you are going to do that I’ll take it back.”

“Too late! You already said okay.” 

“I swear to god if you start dancing I’m leaving.” Nami really knew how to kill the mood. “Look, we still need to bring the tribute payment back. I’ll dig this up, deliver it, and remind Arlong of our deal. You try and find Luffy and meet me at the edge of the tangerine grove by the park.”

“That was one hell of a fast plan.”

Nami shrugged before she grabbed the shovel and started digging. 

“Plans are what I do. Now get going. It’s already getting dark.”

You glanced up at the sky and found its usual blue hue burning into a warm orange with the smoke of darkness following closely behind. Nami knew that you were running out of time. Whether this plan of hers worked or not, if neither of you returned back to Arlong Park, you knew he would come looking for you both. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything major until I’m back.”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Nami-“

“Because you’re the one usually making rash decisions-“

“Nami, promise me.”

You didn’t care if fear laced inside your voice and forced it to shatter. You weren’t worried about being brave because you were scared as hell. You’d be a fool to be any different. There were so many unknowns stretched out before you both. Connecting paths that wound their way to places neither of you had touched. 

With one last look back at Nami, she finally gave you a nod before she whispered, “I promise,” before you bolted back towards Coco Village. You could hear her screaming after you that you hadn’t promised back. You were well aware you hadn’t and honestly, you never intended too. 

Why did it seem like you were always running? When you first meet Luffy, Nami, and Zoro you ran out of Kaya’s house trying to save Luffy from the poison he’d ingested meant for Kaya. You’d run back to find Zoro climbing out of a well which, come to think of it, you never asked him why he was down there in the first place. Then followed Zoro in the wrong direction to stumble upon Luffy who sent all three of you sprinting back towards the house. You’d thought after that day you were done with running. 

The universe must have found it hilarious that you were sprinting back towards Coco Village. Your muscles burning as you force yourself to move faster down grove after grove. The chances of Luffy and them still standing in the spot you’d left them wasn’t realistic. Would it have been convenient? Hell yes. Realistic? Absolutely not. 

You came to a sliding stop through the village gates. It was hard not to take notice of the villagers giving you dirty looks for your haphazard entrance. Usually, you would’ve felt more apologetic but you didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

You made your way around the giant tree that was centered in the middle of the village. The last place you’d seen them had been on the East side of the huts. They’d walked in to see Nami collecting the tribute payment while you’d been off with Nazifa. Now there wasn’t any trace that they’d even been there. 

Your mind was racing trying to figure out where they might have gone. You weren’t a bloodhound. Without any indication or note or flare in the sky it felt like a wild goose chase in finding them. Your hands went up to scrub in irritation at your face, and when you brought them back down from your face Nazifa was just there in front of you. A scream tore from your throat that caused you both to jump. Every villager out that night sent you both death glares that forced you to hold up your hands in apology. 

“Nazifa, you scared me.”

“You came back so soon. I thought you said you’d be back in a few days.”

“My friends. The one in the straw hat: do you by chance know where they went?”

When she shook her tiny head no you tried not to deflate. This wasn’t the time to get sad or down. Nami was still waiting for you to get bac-

“No I don’t. Mr. Genzo might.”

“Mr. Genzo?”

Nazifa turned and pointed to the constable who stood back out on the deck of his office. You thanked Nazifa for the info and walked towards him. It was easy to see the minute his eyes caught sight of you, mistrust clouded his features. It wasn’t just that he didn’t know you. He’d seen you with Nami. 

You tried to plaster on a friendly smile and felt your busted lip crack under the strain. It was a great reminder that under different circumstances you might have been able to win him over with your warmth. In your current state, however, you looked less inviting, and more like a walking punching bag. 

“Hello.” You followed up your opening statement with an awkward wave. “I was wondering if you might be able to help me. A few of my friends were here earlier.”

“The Pirate Hunter in the straw hat.”

You felt yourself slowly blink at him as your brain tried to process what he’d just said. 

“Pirate…Hunter?”

“Yeah. It’s what the green-haired guy with the sword said. They said they were here for Arlong’s bounty.” 

It was smart. You were willing to bet Zoro had mentioned it to save Luffy from telling Mr. Genzo he was a pirate. It probably wouldn’t have won over any favors from him or the villagers if he’d mentioned his intentions of being The Pirate King. 

“Yes. Those guys. Do you know where they might have gone?”

“They asked about Nojiko. If you’re looking for them, I sent them down to her house. It’s at the edge of the tangerine grove.”

Fucking great. You tried to smile past the pain of realizing that meant you were once again going to have to run. You turned sharply on your heel and started running down the direction that Genzo mentioned. 

It felt like you could’ve been running back towards Nami. The endless sea of tangerines that you’d fallen in love with earlier suddenly felt overwhelming. The citrus in the air only grew heavier the further you went inside the pasture. It was the only thing that let you know you weren’t headed back to Arlong Park, where the smell of citrus was replaced with fish. 

Your muscles were beginning to burn and your breathing labored the further you went. You were deadly close to giving up - slowing down to a crawl when you remembered Nami was no doubt back at Arlong Park. The money she’d stolen to save the people in her village was handed over to the very monster who imprisoned you both. Tormented you both. 

What would she tell him when she walked in and you weren’t by her side? How much time could one of her well-constructed lies give you before Arlong’s distrust sent his people out searching for you? You couldn’t afford to slow down no matter how much your muscles threatened to collapse. You refused to give him the chance to hurt Nami or anyone else. 

With that thought still searing through your brain you came crashing through the end of the grove. The dirt path widening to show a worn down lane placed to walk between the three huts that were scattered. Your eyes scanned down to the very last hut where the light of candles burned. 

“Last hut at the end,” you hummed to yourself. 

You tried to start running the last few feet but your legs refused to move. Your legs almost crumbled at the suggestion so you settled for a brisk walk. You were almost to the house when your eyes caught his figure. He was sitting out on a rock. The Wado clasped tightly in his hand and held the length of his body. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was napping like he usually did, but the closer you got to the hut the easier it was for you to see the tightness that resonated throughout his body. 

Gods, you’d forgotten how good he looked in that damn cloud button up. The different hues of blue made his current ashen tone more apparent and made you long for the healthy glow the sun had deepened into his skin. The only thing you hadn’t forgotten is the look on his face as you’d left him standing inside the village. His pleas haunting you with each step you took; your muscles aching to turn around and collide back into him. 

You knew it had taken everything for Zoro to speak so openly - so honest - with you the way he did. It was everything you’d wanted to hear that night in the galley. It seemed you were both doomed to be speaking at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

You were only a few inches away from him now when his head turned in your direction. The minute his eyes opened and Zoro saw it was you he was up and moving. His hand quickly slid the Wado Ichimonji back into the holster at his hip. It felt wrong seeing him with only one. Your mind seemed keen to remind you exactly why Zoro only had one sword left. 

Flashes of Mihawk slicing through his swords in a clash of metal made your body jerk. Your heart clamored in horror in your chest: you didn’t want to remember the next part. Your memories didn’t care about your feelings, and as Zoro moved towards you, a flash of discomfort so brief ran through him it caused his hand to involuntarily touch his chest. It was all your nightmares needed to revisit one of the worst moments of your life. 

By the time Zoro was within reaching distance, your hands shot out to grab at his face the way he’d held on to yours. It felt so damn good to be able to feel his skin underneath your palms. The soft tickle of his breath touching on your skin to let you know Zoro was alive. He was real and whole and he was yours. If only for this moment, because he didn’t push you away. 

A cautious hand reached down to lay claim at your waist and every nerve within your body came alive at his touch. How was it possible to experience something so simple as a touch and it felt this electric? It couldn’t be normal to feel at peace and trapped inside a hurricane all at once, but that was exactly what it felt like standing in Zoro’s presence. 

“Doc, what are you doing here?”

Yes, what were you even doing anymore? You’d come for a reason and it wasn’t just to stand here gawking up at him and-

“Nami.”

“Nami?”

Zoro repeated her name back to you. The confusion only creased his brow further as his eyes scanned over your face. That was all it took for you to release the hold that you had on him. Your feet trying to backpedal away from him, to find safety in the shadows, but you’d forgotten one minor detail. His hand was still rooted to your body and when you moved to step back, Zoro easily followed. 

“Zoro, please.”

Gods, whatever you do, do not cry. If you started, you weren’t sure you would ever stop. 

“Doc, what’s wrong?”

He just didn’t know how to read people. Zoro was too busy trying to gently get you to look back at him. Gently because he wasn’t blind. He no doubt saw every bruise and cut and gods know what else that littered across the expanse of your skin. You weren’t sure why that knowledge made you hate it even more. 

“I know I look terrible.”

You tried again in vain to move away. Zoro refused to budge in his hold and when you tried to look away his hand gently caught your cheek. With the same softness you weren’t aware he even possessed, Zoro tilted your chin up until your eyes finally locked with his. 

“I’ve never seen anyone look more beautiful.” 

It was at this moment you realized you were dangerously close to breaking down. The only thing that kept you from doing it was the wince you earned when you thoughtlessly placed your hand on his chest. 

“Oh gods, Zoro I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. When was the last time you had it properly cleaned? Changed the dressing? Have you been taking the antibiotic I left you?”

This was familiar and safe. The emotions that threatened to capsize you moments before were a thing of the past as you regarded him with a doctor’s keen eye. At the mention of the antibiotic you noticed a shift in his gaze and you immediately knew your answer. 

“Funny you should ask about the antibiotic-“

“Zoro,” you used his name as a warning. 

“I broke the glass it was in.”

Your response to this admission? You smacked him in his shoulder and you could’ve sworn you saw the telltale sign of a smirk. 

“Why the hell would you go and do that?”

“Maybe because the woman who made it for me decided to disappear while I was unconscious.”

“You wouldn’t have been unconscious if you hadn’t fought the world’s strongest swordsman.”

“It’s the world’s greatest swordsman,” he corrected through his teeth. 

“Whatever! Potato tomato!”

You didn’t want to tell him you were already looking at the world’s greatest swordsman, if your opinion mattered at all. But you didn’t want to take away the taste of humble pie Mihawk had bestowed to Zoro with a side of life lesson. 

“Where is Luffy? I need to talk to him about Nami.”

At the mention of her name, Zoro’s mood noticeably soured. You were tempted to smack him a second time, but tried to remember that Nami didn’t make it easy to think she needed help. Especially if she was telling you to fuck off left and right. 

“Luffy went out for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Jesus, woman,” Zoro seethed. 

He literally looked up at the sky as if someone was supposed to answer him or something. You couldn’t stop yourself from mimicking him and asking him after your eyes drifted back down, “You find any answers up there?”

It was a wonder that this was the same man who had, hours before, looked at you like he loved you. 

“Luffy went on a walk. He’ll be back eventually if you want to wait.”

“I don’t have that kind of time, but you’re his first mate! I can just tell you.”

It was brilliant. What wasn’t brilliant? Smacking Zoro in the chest like he wasn’t trying to heal one of the biggest flesh wounds known to man. This time, you not only earned a wince but got a grunting noise that shouldn’t have sounded as sinful as it did. Even hotter was the grumpy look he gave you.

“I’ll pass if it involves you assaulting me every five seconds.”

A tsk passed through your lips as you regarded him. You were willing to bet he’d been wearing the same dressing since you’d left. With no antibiotic or ointments on the wound there was a strong possibility it could fester. 

“How about I pass along the message for you to give him while I clean your wound. I get to give you important information and you get to have a cleaned wound and a fresh bandage.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say no. You reached out and grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards the steps of the hut. It wasn’t until you were up the stairs and pushing the door open that you hadn’t thought about gently knocking on the door or giving words of introduction. You’d just assumed no one was inside and lucky for you it was. Kind of. 

You scanned the house and took notice of the dishes that were stacked next to the sink. The pot and utensils that were laid out to dry the same way a certain Chef you knew liked to do. When you were far enough inside to be comfortable, you released his hand and turned on him, almost colliding with his chest. You had to swallow down a scream of shock. 

“Okay. Start unbuttoning your shirt and I’ll tell you the message to tell Luffy.”

Zoro just stood there like an unmovable statue. You weren’t sure he was going to stay or turn around and leave until his hands slowly moved to the first button. The rough tips of his calloused fingers moved with ease to start undoing the first button on his shirt. Your throat instantly ran dry. Even worse? Zoro didn’t even look down to see if he was in the right spot. His eyes solely locked on your face and you wondered if he could see the growing blush that was beginning to tint your cheeks. 

“This feels vaguely familiar.”

Zoro’s words were tinged with teasing and this time you did catch the slight tilt of his lip as he smirked down at you. 

“What are you talking about?”

You were genuinely confused. Flustered. You were confused and most definitely flustered as Zoro was on to his third button, and gods was it hot in this particular hut or was it just you?

“A couple weeks ago I was at a mansion in Syrup village with my captain. When I went to leave my room this crazy woman was at my door, and dragged me back inside.”

“Wait a minute! Are you calling me crazy-“

“I’m having a strange sense of Deja vu.” 

While Zoro had been retelling the first time you’d met, his fingers had worked their way down to his naval. Zoro was literal seconds away - two buttons left - from exposing his chest to you. It was ridiculous. Truly, that you would be this affected by him and he still technically hadn’t exposed anything. 

You’ve treated dozens of men while back on the island. Some of them had ended up shirtless and one gentleman had even ended with his trousers around his knees while you’d tweezed out porcupine quills from his…well. From an area. This should’ve been like those times. Where you were in control. You were a professional. 

But those other men weren’t Roronoa Zoro, and nothing on this earth could have prepared you for the moment he finished with that last button. 

The shirt draped around him and left a two-inch line of his chest exposed. Under different circumstances it might have shown skin underneath, but currently a stark white bandage was your one saving grace from keeping you from completely losing your mind. A stark white bandage that was noticeably tinged with blood. 

It was all you needed to get your shit together. Yes, Zoro was an attractive man. An infuriating attractive man but he was still a man and he needed ten-

Was it normal for someone to be this muscular? You’d seen Zoro workout a couple times on the ship. Witnessed first hand the way he’d swing around eight-hundred pounds like it was nothing. The endless sets of sit-ups and push-ups he subjected himself too. It made perfect sense he would be nothing but corded hard muscle. 

You needed to push the shirt back further so you could see the extent of the wound and begin to remove the old bandage. To do that, however, it meant you had to touch him. You didn’t care if Zoro knew why you were blowing out a raspberry before your hands moved under the fabric at his shoulders. The minute your hands touched down on the skin you weren’t sure if you were going to remain calm. It became harder when you started to push back the fabric and it exposed his chest to the room. If it wasn’t for the bloody bandage, you might have completely gone off the deep end. 

“Because I am a professional,” you began, your voice lighter than a whisper, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just suggest I was acting like a crazy pervert the first time we met.”

The tick at the corner of his mouth was the only warning you got before a smile erupted on his face. A smile that was directed towards you without restraint. It was meant solely just for you, and if it wasn’t for his hands that secured itself to your waist, it would’ve knocked you on your ass. You wanted to tell him he should smile more often but, on second thought, you weren’t sure you would survive it if he did. 

You wanted to ask how his hands were back on your hips. You were just going to change his bandage. It should’ve been so simple, but how could anything like this be simple when he was looking at you like this? Zoro kept stealing glancing down to your lips. 

“You’re bleeding. You should let me change your bandage.”

You came back. 

Zoro had been meditating on that rock waiting for Luffy. He didn’t know where his captain went after their talk on the roof, but he hadn’t been worried. He was worried about you.

His mind swirled with dozens of possibilities. A game plan for how he was going to bust inside Arlong Park and get you out. How he was going to maim and murder every last fishmen that had ever been stupid enough to touch you. 

And then you came barreling out of the tangerine grove and towards him in a fashion only you could do. It took everything in him not to get up at that moment and run to meet you. It took everything in him not to stop you, mid-rant, and silence you by crashing his lips to yours. 

Zoro was so used to being stoic. The picture of calm and unshakable to his core. All of that changed when you stepped inside his orbit, and he knew he would never be the same because of it. Zoro had to know you would always be a part of him and that meant no more denying. 

The banter between you felt damn good when it happened. It felt natural. As natural as training or having the Wado beside him everywhere he went. Zoro needed you the same way. Beside him, with the knowledge you’d be waiting for him back on the Merry when he left.

So, Zoro wasn’t sure what sparked this. It was an everyday thing. You weren’t dressed any differently - or any different than the crazy top he knew Nami was responsible for. You weren’t acting any different. You were your normal self but something inside him stirred. A storm of wants and needs was clouding his judgment and rolled through his thoughts like thunderclouds. 

“You’re bleeding. You should let me change your bandage.”

He wasn’t thinking. 

Zoro could only feel the drive to consume you in every fiber of his being until it controlled him. The flames of that consuming drive only rose higher when your hands delved under his shirt - touched his skin. 

The need. 

It’s all he felt. All he could think about. 

You were self-conscious of the way you looked, but Zoro had meant it when he told you, you were beautiful. The bruises and the cuts would fade and under all that you would remain. Zoro wasn’t worried about the physical. He worried more about what was underneath the surface, and he would make you see - know - that it changed nothing for him. Zoro would remain here with you for as long as you would have him. 

The best way to do this? A kiss.

Zoro had made his mind up the minute he’d woken up without you beside him. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. 

His eyes scanned your face as his hand snaked behind your neck to lift you up just enough that when his lips pressed down onto yours it was soft. Chaste. 

It was everything he didn’t want to be. 

Zoro hadn’t kissed many women. They weren’t really ever in his plans and while, yeah he had his urges, he learned to dull it out with the booze. Easier to dull it out when some of the kisses he received were from sloppy drunk women in the booths at bars. It became increasingly apparent that wasn’t the case when it came to you. Zoro found himself having to drink more just to dull simple urges like the one he was doing now.

Zoro didn’t want to dull it out. He didn’t want to fight it anymore. He would make space for you in his dreams, because you’d become a part of that too. 

He pressed his lips against yours again, and this time added more pressure. Your hand moved to mimic his hand that he’d placed on your neck, except you didn’t stop there. Your fingers delved into his hair and Zoro could feel every nerve erupt at your touch. His grip on your neck and hip tightened and brought you flush against him. 

He couldn’t hold back with chaste pecks any longer. He needed to kiss you - really kiss you - before he went mad. His tongue traced the edge of your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you submitted to him with ease. 

With every small sound you made as his tongue delved between your lips, tasted you, and explored you a response of his own was brewing in his chest. One that was more animalistic than man: a sound that threatened to break every last reserve he had. 

You’d wrapped your arms around his shoulders and used them to pull him closer. A hand lost itself in your hair and when your fingers lightly tugged at the small hair at the base of his scalp, a growl vibrated against your lips causing his fingers to fist your hair. 

He hadn’t meant it. It was a reflex he couldn’t control and yet…

You tore your mouth away and he expected a scream; to be chastised for the randomness of the pain. Instead, he watched as a moan came strangled between heavy breaths filtered through the space. He didn’t give you a second to catch a breath before he secured a hand behind your neck and brought your lips crashing back down on his. His mouth devoured yours with a dangerous hunger that possessed him. 

Zoro wondered what pretty noises you would make for him if he’d place his hand just right on your neck. If you would like that too as he squeezed and pulled as he pushed and stretched you open just for him. What his name would sound like dripping with pleas and panting while his hips pushed up into you. What pretty noises could you make for him then? It didn’t take Zoro long before he realized he was desperate to find out. 

“I’m still sad I missed dinner, but at least I get a show.”

Everything came to a halt at the sound of an all too familiar voice. While Zoro was willing to bet you were rosy cheeks and embarrassment, he felt murderous. The minute his mouth parted from yours his head whipped around Nojiko’s hut looking for the clown in question. It wasn’t hard to spot his smug face in the corner of the room sitting on top of a barrel.

How they’d missed him when they first came in…

“It’s so great to see you again, Doc,” Buggy beamed. “Although, I’m sure I didn't miss you as much as our big strong not-so-silent swordsman here.”

Zoro had turned to face Buggy, but you’d stayed behind him. Your forehead buried into his back as you let out a groaned, “Kill me now.”

Buggy’s annoying laughter filled the small space, and all Zoro wanted to do was kick him into oblivion. 

Stupid fucking clown. 

After the beyond embarrassing moment you’d shared with Zoro inside the hut, you’d moved outside to finish cleaning and rebandaging his wound. You’d done so without any further touching. While you wanted nothing more than to allow Zoro to grab and kiss you like he had, you could still hear Buggy inside making kissy noises. 

You weren’t sure if the embarrassment would ever go away. Zoro on the other hand looked ready to murder him. 

While you rebandaged him, you’d shared what you could about Nami. Where she’d asked everyone to meet later in the night once everything was done. It wasn’t until it was time for you to leave that Zoro grabbed your arm to pull you close to him. 

“I can’t let you leave.”

Underneath all that murderous rage he was dealing with you could see the same thing you’d seen earlier that day. Fear. It must have been a wild new emotion for him, because Zoro was one of the most fearless people you ever met. You didn’t know if you should’ve found it flattering or worrisome he was scared to let you go. 

“It’ll be alright. I’ll be waiting with Nami, and once Luffy gets back you’ll all meet us there.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s cause it’s Nami’s plan.”

“When has anything we’ve ever done gone to plan?”

It was a damn good question. Right now wasn’t the time to dwell on the few that hadn’t completely gone like they were supposed too. You needed him to have a little faith in the plan. 

You allowed him to pull you close by your waist. The immediate feel of him pressed tight against you sent a searing memory of his kiss, his hand tightening in your hair, and the gasp he’d coaxed from you. Gods, you wanted to kiss him again, and by the look Zoro kept giving you, you knew he did too. 

Now wasn’t the time for this. Nami was possibly waiting for you, and you didn’t want her to think you’d bailed. That the rest of your crew wasn’t coming to back her up. Gently, you placed a hand against Zoro’s chest before you looked up at him. 

“Things always work out in the end. Nami is waiting for me - for us - to be there for her. She’s been alone in this battle for too long, but she doesn’t have to be anymore.”

Zoro seemed to swallow down whatever argument he was trying to make. His obsidian eyes taking in your face, weighing his next words before a heavy sigh escaped him. 

“I don’t like this.”

“You’ve mentioned this before. And the time before that-“

“I’m being serious,” he’d used your name. Zoro hardly ever used your name. “How can you ask me to let you go back?”

“Because I need you to trust this isn’t the last time you’ll see me, Zoro.”

The both of you were trapped in a place of unknowing. He wasn’t sure what letting you go for the second time would mean and you, well, realistically you didn’t know what would be waiting for you when you got there. You just had to believe that everything was going to be okay. That all of this wasn’t going to be for nothing. 

Without giving it another thought, you moved up on your tip toes to gently press your lips against his cheek. The kiss causing his hand on your waist to tighten to try and pull you closer, but you fought against it. Your own feet begin to move away from him to start heading back through the tangerine grove. 

“I will save you. I promise and, when I do, you’re going to promise to never leave my side again.”

If darkness could be housed inside a person, you knew it would be in the form of Roronoa Zoro. As you back away, it was easy to see what all the pirates he hunted saw. His presence was menacing - a walking omen of someone’s impending demise. He was pure power embodied. Not even the night herself was willing to touch him. The edges of her darkness that played across his silhouette only outlined him further. Zoro radiated what hell itself feared and yet, he softened just for you. 

Zoro told you that you weren’t leaving his side once this was over. A part of you wanted to fight him on it; to crawl under his skin and make him bristle as you teased him. You knew, however, you’d gladly stand by his side through hell and back if that meant you were with him. 

You looked at him one last time - wanting to commit how he looked to memory - before you turned and started doing your least favorite activity. You didn’t have the luxury of taking your time. There was no telling how much time passed while you’d been tending to Zoro’s wound. You thought you were being productive while trying to explain as much as you could to him on what he needed to relay to Luffy. You were willing to bet that Zoro stopped listening halfway through your explanation. You were also willing to double down on that bet that instead of telling Luffy your much winded version, Zoro was going to condense it down to all of one sentence. If you were lucky he even did that.

Either way, you knew that Luffy would be there. You knew they would all be there to save you both. You were hyperfocused on the possible outcomes that you hadn’t heard it until it was too late. You weren’t sure it would’ve made a difference if you’d heard the footsteps before the impact. One minute, you were almost coming to the clearing at the end of the trees, and the next the air was being knocked from your lungs.

A body shot out from the dark to collide with yours. The two of you rolling around on the forest floor until you came to a stop. A forearm was pressed down against your throat. You wanted to try and buck whoever was straddling you off you, but their weight told you it would’ve been impossible. Besides, while you were trying to catch your breath, the presence of the arm pressing down on your trachea was making it worse. Your hands reached up to claw your nails down their skin in an attempt to get them to let go, just so you could catch your breath, when you felt the scales of a fishmen.

As the realization set in from the corner of your eye you watched Arlong walk from the shadows. A sickly grin already spread wide to show the rows of razor sharp teeth that only his kind could have. 

“Where do you think you are coming from?”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear Zoro and his pessimistic tone warning you about plans. They never seemed to go the way you wanted. You couldn't explain why this time you’d thought it would end differently. It had too, right? So much had gone wrong last week. It only seemed fair.  

The world didn’t play in what was fair and just. 

Chew released his forearm that he’d pressed to your throat. Instantly, your body let out a violent cough that was made worse when he grabbed you by your shirt and hauled you to your feet. You’d barely got a solid breath in before Arlong launched his fist once, twice, into your stomach. You would’ve dropped to your knees if Chew wasn’t keeping you standing. Your arms pinned behind your back to leave your middle open and ready for the next assault Arlong unleashed. 

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and Chew picked you up to follow him. You knew where you were going. Arlong Park was only a couple more meters ahead of you. If you had the strength to dig your feet in, to try and escape, you would have. The foreboding feeling that wrecked your nerves told you there was a chance if you went in you weren’t coming back out. 

Arlong pushed inside the gates and hundreds of his crew were pressed into every inch of the park. They all looked at you with disgust. Some of them spitting like before in your direction as Chew pushed you forward; obediently following Arlong like a good human should. It wasn’t until he’d reached his self-made throne that he took to the stage like a zealot on a soapbox. His gaze roamed out to all the crew that had assembled. The entire thing felt ominous and reminded you of cults and the sacrifices they made under torchlight. It wasn’t hard to know who that sacrifice was. 

“My brothers! We have a traitor in our midst!”

 Please don’t say it’s me, please-

“This human has infiltrated our ranks. Promising a cure for a disease her people gave us. She rewards our kindness by also turning sister Nami against us.”

“What-“

A panic flared through you at the mention of her name. Where was Nami? The fire of panic was quickly doused, however, as Arlong swung back to silence you with the back of his hand. Blood rushed inside your mouth and spilled itself past your lips to drip on the wood below. 

“Silence! You think you can turn Nami against us? Against me?” 

With each word he spoke you could see the fury that this supposed betrayal was doing to him. He was a fishman possessed with rage, and that rage came lunging forward and sinking its teeth into your left shoulder. This time you did have enough air to scream, and scream as he wiggled like a dog trying to pry meat off the bone. You couldn’t fight him off. Chew held your arms trapped behind your back. You couldn’t move back with Arlong’s hands on your arms keeping you in place. All you could do was scream and feel the tear of your flesh and muscle until he let go. 

They both released you allowing you to drop to your knees in a sobbing mess. 

“You think I wouldn’t know what you were up to? This is my island. Everyone and everything on it belongs to me. You think you can save a couple of lousy villagers and I wouldn’t know?”

Nami warned you. She’d told you time and again that it hadn’t been a good idea. You’d thought she was just being ridiculous. You didn’t know how Arlong had found out, but at this point it didn’t matter. The damage was done and your punishment for that betrayal was well into effect. 

His face was decorated in your blood as he spit down at you. His gaze and arms wide as he took in his devoted followers that waited for his next commands. 

“We all know the truth of this world. Fishmen are the rightful rulers of the seas. And the humans know it too. They fear our power, so they bound us with chains. They loathe our presence, so they banned us from their cities.” 

Arlong walked the stage with the presence of a false prophet. He brought up the past and weaved the narrative of those errors, those transgressions, with each false fact. He played on their fear of being enslaved again to drive their fear into something vile and twisted. Something that burned with its own prejudice and demanded penance be paid for with blood and pain. 

“But we broke those chains, huh? Built our own cities. Now the time has come to restore the natural order of this world.”

In unison, all the fishmen shouted. How could they not see that remaking the world with more hate was never the answer? Arlong touched a few of his crew as he circled back to join you on his stage. 

“For centuries, humans have used us, kept us down. And our so-called leaders, they allowed it. Banners of unity and peace they so lovingly wave are, in truth, flags of surrender, willing defeat. I don’t know about you, but I ain’t surrendering.”

“Kill them all!”

Kill who- “No.”

You don’t know why it didn’t hit you until now. The torches they carried. The guns and swords at the ready in some of their hands. They were going out to attack Coco village - to kill the people that resided inside. 

Chew rushed forward and kicked you. His boot collided with your jaw and sent your body crumbling to the floor. 

“We are the embodiment of fishman superiority! And with the Grand Line map, we will reclaim our birthright. Our righteous rage will burn through Coco Village, to the ends of the East Blue, and as we move to the Grand Line and beyond, we will teach each and every human their rightful place, beneath us!”

To drive his point home, Arlong walked over to your fallen figure and placed his foot on your back. He pressed down violently causing you to scream again as he placed more of his weight against your spine. 

“Beneath us!”

“Yeah!”

“Beneath us!”

They shouted. They chanted until a chorus of their hatred rang out across the trees. You wondered if the villagers could hear the sound of their impending doom. If any of them would make it out alive. When he was finished, Arlong removed his foot from you and waited for Kuroobi to join him on the stage. 

“Go and destroy the village. Murder anyone you see. And Kuroobi - bring me back the human child she gave the medicine to.”

An icy shot of dread jolted down your spine. All the abuse they’d given you erased itself from memory as you struggled to get to your feet. Not Nazifa. 

“No! Don’t you touch her!”

Arlong rushed over to strike you and sent you flying back. The taste of chopper rushed fresh into your mouth even before your body landed against a pillar.

“Nami will pay for her treachery, and so will you. I’ll teach you both a thing or two about loyalty.” With a nod of his head, two fishmen rushed forward to grab a hold of you and lifted you up to your feet. “First, let’s get you ready for our little friend’s arrival. She should have you welcome her with arms wide open.”

Arlong’s rotten laughter putrefied the space. His arms open and mocking as you feel the first cold press of the chains being wrapped around your wrists. 

As always, thank you so much for reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated.

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---

Rereading this because it's so good.

death before decaf

opla!zoro; 10,414 words; coffee shop/college!au, vague enemies to lovers, fencer!zoro, sports medicine!major reader, slightly ooc zoro (he's a bit more talkative), fluff and flirting, bff!robin, zoro makes the first move, zoro calling reader "princess", mutual pining, both reader and zoro are dumbasses, making out in locker rooms

summary: sanji and nami bet on how long it'll take you and zoro to finally crack over your caffeine-related discourse; or -- that one coffee!shop zoro au that literally no one asked for.

a/n: i keep on saying "this is the longest fic i've written to date" but this really is the longest fic i've written to date. and no, this will not be the only time zoro calls reader "princess" in one of my fics. trust.

one.

“How long did you say?”

“Two weeks, max.”

“Nah… you think?”

“Probably closer to a week. Week and a half.”

Sanji stubs out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe before tossing the smoking nub into the bin, casting Nami a disbelieving look.

“They’ve been going on like this for like three months… and you think they’re gonna crack in the next week and a half? Nah, fam — I call bullshit.”

Nami shrugs, smirking, “Your funeral.”

Sanji scoffs as Nami pushes through the swinging double doors into the main body of the cafe, hitching a smile onto her face as she greets the customers already lined up in front of the counter.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters to himself, dusting his hands off on his apron before pushing in after her, putting on his best customer-service smile.

“Mornin’ folks! Welcome to the Straw Hats Cafe, where the coffee’s hot but the people are hotter — what can I get started for you, sweetheart?” he grins as he shoots you a wink and you flash him your best Colgate smile.

“Can I get a decaf latte with —”

“Oat milk, two pumps of caramel, and whipped cream on top? Oh — and a sprinkle of cinnamon cause you can’t have a fall latte without cinnamon, right?” Sanji finishes for you.

You nod, your cheeks flushed a bright, wind-kissed pink from the cold outside.

Behind you, a green-haired boy in a tight-fitting tee and no jacket scoffs under his breath, shaking his head.

“Yep! You know me so well,” you say, giggling and making a point to speak just a bit louder.

“Course I do, darlin’. It’s what I get paid for,” Sanji jots down your order and pushes it to the side where Nami’s already halfway done with making your drink.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite mosshead jock — lemme guess, double espresso, no sugar, no nothin’, right?” Sanji punches in the order just as Zoro makes his way up to the counter, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.”

Sanji grins, hiking an eyebrow, “Talkative as always, I see. Alright — that’d be —”

Zoro wordlessly slides a full punch card onto the counter and Sanji pauses.

“Ah — pardon me, I do believe that’s your free drink! You sure you wanna use it on an espresso? Maybe… you wanna try one of our seasonal specials? The maple spice latte’s one of our best —”

Zoro scoffs again, “I’m good. I like my coffee real, thanks.”

Down passed the pastries, you roll your eyes, making an exaggerated face as Nami hands you your drink with a grin.

“Y’know, if you guys just made out I feel like it would fix a lot of this unresolved tension,” she says, even as you nearly choke on your drink.

You’re still coughing when Zoro joins you by the finished drinks counter.

“I’d rather lose an eye than make out with someone who drinks decaf.”

Nami sighs, shooting you a meaningful look as she slides the double espresso toward Zoro.

You wipe your lips with a napkin before leveling him with a glare.

“Well I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than make out with someone who never grew out of his middle school emo-phase.”

“At least I don’t try to use sugar to fill the gaping hole in your life where a real personality should be.”

“At least I don’t make that gaping hole my entire personality.”

“Princess.”

“Edgelord.”

You turn resolutely away from Zoro and smile back at Nami and Sanji, both stealing glances at the pair of you even as they continue to handle the Monday morning rush.

“Thank you guys — I’m gonna be late for class.

Zoro tsks, taking a sip of his espresso.

“I’m gonna be late for practice.”

You huff, pivoting away from him towards the door, purposefully letting it swing shut behind you; Zoro swears as it almost makes him spill his coffee.

Back in the coffee shop, Sanji finishes another order just as Nami washes off her hands to take over at the cashier.

“One and a half weeks?” Sanji asks as he rolls up his sleeves and grabs a few metal cups for steamed milk.

“Yep,” Nami replies, shooting another look out the glass door where they can both still see your’s and Zoro’s silhouettes as you head towards the university campus, “Just about.”

“Alright then, you’re on.”

Nami’s smirk only grows, “Like I said — your funeral.”

two.

You’re fuming all the way to your first morning class — Bio-Organic Chemistry — that you don’t notice your friend Robin until she’s standing right next to you.

“Are you mad at your fencer-boy again?”

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath, “He’s not my fencer-boy, and no. I’m not mad.”

Robin grins, “Your tone says different.”

You cast her a reproachful look, “I just… bumped into him at the coffee shop again.”

“Ah,” Robin says, her voice saturated with understanding.

You groan, “He just… pisses me off so much! Like, why’s he care how much sugar I put in my drinks or if I drink decaf? He’s just a muscle-head loser who thinks drinking espresso shots makes him somehow more manly or something. Ugh.”

Robin’s grin is amused when you turn to chance her a glance.

“Then… why do you care how he takes his coffee?” Her question is light, but you’ve known her for long enough to know when she’s teasing.

“I didn’t! At least… not until he made fun of my drink first. I mean, who does that anymore? We’re in college! Like, grow up!”

“Mm,” Robin hums, schooling her expression into one of careful consideration and marked compassion, “and of course, you’re just engaging in his… childish antics because he started it first, right?”

You sigh, cupping your very sugary latte between your palms as you both duck into the main lecture building, teaming with students shedding scarves and jackets, shaking off the late autumn chill.

“I know, I know it’s stupid but… he just… pisses me off so much!”

Robin chuckles, her smile distinctly sphinx-like as you press your lips into a pout.

“Well, we can talk about it after morning lecture, hm?”

You sigh and nod, waving her off as she heads down the hallway towards her Ancient Worlds class and you head upstairs for the sciences.

You spend the whole lecture in a mood and by the time you’re excused, your temples have started to throb.

But true to her word, you find Robin waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, a thick leather-bound book clutched to her chest. You give her a questioning look.

“Just some light reading,” she says. You roll your eyes.

“Just say you’re a gigantic nerd and go.”

At this Robin laughs, falling into step next to you as you both start to make your way towards the dining commons.

“Have I ever denied that I was?”

You let out a noncommittal grunt.

Luckily, the commons isn‘t as crowded as it usually is and you both quickly find a seat.

“So,” Robin says as she slides into the seat next to you, propping up her chin on the heel of her hand. There’s a low, lilting tone to her voice that tells you there’s no getting out of it this time.

You sigh again, pursing your lips, staring down at your açaí bowl.

“So what?”

“Tell me about him.”

You scoff, “Not really much to tell — he’s… one of the fencers on the national team. So obviously, he’s got his own head shoved so far up his ass he can probably watch his own lunch dige—“

“So he’s quite good at fencing then.” Robin keeps her voice neutral, taking a contemplative bite of a banana.

“I guess — I mean we’re the top feeder school for the Olympic team, aren’t we?” You jab your spoon into the yogurt, nearly splattering Robin’s new book. She gently tucks it into her bag and motions for you to continue.

“I dunno, there’s not much to tell after that… he’s an arrogant jock who judges people by how they take their coffee,” and at this, you shove a large spoonful of yogurt and açaí into your mouth, glaring at nothing in particular.

“Doesn’t your practical applications class look after the fencing team?”

Again, you grunt, sinking a bit further into your seat at the thought.

“Yeah, I’ve been dreading that all morning, and the class isn’t till Wednesday.”

Robin’s smile is almost too academic as she carefully finishes her banana and gets started on an egg salad sandwich.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

You sniff, swallowing another huge mouthful of yogurt.

“It can,” you say, grimacing, “You should see the number of times I’ve had to hold back from dislocating his shoulder on purpose.”

Robin laughs her tinkling, all-knowing laugh, “Every day, I wake up glad to be on your whitelist.”

Your lips twitch into a reluctant grin.

“I’d be nicer too if I were as tall and pretty as you are. But since I’m not one of god’s strongest soldiers, I’ve gotta find other ways of defending myself, y’know?”

“I’m not sure what you do can be called ‘self-defense’ in a court of law but…” she smiles, “You shouldn’t sell yourself short either.”

You cast her a deadpan look, “But I am short. It’s like where 90% of my rage and spite come from.”

Robin grins, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You make a rather childish face, but a comfortable warmth spreads from the center of your chest out towards all your extremities at Robin’s words. She cocks her head and continues.

“Plus… I’ve a creeping suspicion that your fencer-boy would agree that you’re prettier than you think.”

You freeze mid-swallow on your last spoonful of yogurt, eyes wide.

“Wait — what?”

Robin sighs, looking at you as if studying a particularly interesting monolith carved with all her favorite dead languages. You sit back, crossing your arms, feeling raw beneath her inquisitive gaze.

“You can’t still think that this little… feud you two have is purely based on a difference in coffee preference, can you?”

You realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip and force yourself to stop.

“I — I don’t know how it can be anything else though…” but even to your own ears, you sound distinctly unconvinced. Robin cocks her head.

“Think about it — when we were all little kids and running around on playground, which girls would get their pigtails pulled the most?”

Your frown deepens, “But we’re not kids anymore and this isn’t a play —“

“Yes, I know. Just humor me for a moment.”

You squirm in your seat, your heart thudding erratically in your rib cage, making you feel strangely breathless.

“It was… always the girls that the boys had a crush on,” you answer, your voice growing smaller with each word as the realization seeps into your skin like sunlight. And suddenly, it's too hot. The thought that Zoro might be doing this because he likes you isn’t something that’s crossed your mind. Or rather, it isn’t a thought you’d allowed to cross your mind.

“You know, boys aren’t technically considered ‘men’ until they’re in their mid-thirties,” Robin says, conversational and satisfied to have driven the point home to you. She leans back even as you reach up to press your face into the palms of your hands.

“But…” you try to grasp for some thread of logic that might be able to refute Robin’s claim but come up empty. She’s always been too smart for her own good. And yours.

When you finally lift your head again, it’s to find Robin still watching you, an oddly indulgent smile on her lips.

“C’mon,” she says, gathering her things, “don’t want you to be late for your next lecture.”

She has the audacity to wink as you hurriedly grab your stuff as well.

“Shut up,” you say, bumping her lightly with your elbow as you walk passed her, cheeks darkening with every step. Your next lecture, you both know, is the Nutrition of Sports — which is one of the few actual classes that you and Zoro actually share.

“Have fun in class!” Robin calls as you split ways outside the dining commons. You consider flipping her off but decide against it and opt to stick out your tongue at her instead.

Robin shakes her head, laughing quietly to herself. Really, she thinks, this is just starting to get interesting.

three.

You walk into Nutrition of Sports fully prepared to see Zoro slouched in his usual seat at the back of the class — except, he’s not there. You blink; he’s always been there, always early despite what others might assume of his punctuality. And yet.

“Lookin’ for me, Princess?”

You jump as you hear Zoro’s voice behind you, dangerously close to your ear. Jerking around, you find him smirking, arms crossed as he stares at you.

“N-no.”

“Tch.” He saunters into the room, his arm barely grazing yours as he drops into his seat, leaning back with a sort of damnable, feline grace, doing nothing to hide a huge, lethargic yawn. When he makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, you pause as you notice the way he winces, favoring his left side over his right.

You narrow your eyes.

“You’d be a shit poker player,” he says, grinning as he turns his eyes back towards you, catching you staring before you flush a deep purple and stomp towards your own seat, just one row ahead of him.

You noisily start setting up your supplies — an endless parade of jelly pens and perfectly coordinated sticky notes in aesthetically pleasing colors — pretending like you hadn’t heard him.

Thankfully, the professor hurries in soon after as the rest of the students file in.

Halfway through the lecture, you’re stifling the third yawn of the hour as you feel a small, crumpled something hit the back of your neck. You jerk around to find Zoro ducking behind his arms even as you spot the small wad of paper that he’d obviously just tossed at you.

You bend down to pick it up, only to find a note scribbled in slanted, uneven handwriting —

Sugar crash? Ha. Serves you right.

You nearly whip around but the professor clicks another slide and drones on. You huff, flipping the paper over to scribble on the back —

What happened to your arm?

You surreptitiously toss the note back to him and grin to yourself as you hear him sputtering behind you. The professor glances towards you. You flash him a winning smile as you continue to jot down notes; behind you, you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro scrambling to appear as if he’s paying attention.

The rest of the lecture goes by uninterrupted, though by the end, you swear that your hackles are raised from the way Zoro’s been staring at the back of your neck the entire time.

“What?” you ask, whipping around to face him.

Zoro, for his part, has the decency to look sheepish as he clears his throat and sighs, leaning back.

“There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” he says as he looks away, a slight darkness dusting the high of his cheeks. It’s not the first time you notice the bone-chiseled features of his face — like some gorgeous, careless god, rendered by the loving hands of a besotted Renaissance artist and preserved for the world to see — the way a constellation of freckles scatter across the bridge of his nose, the way his jaw is sharp enough to sting the imagination.

“Right. Fine. Sorry I asked.” You shove your notes and pens back into your bag, rolling your eyes as you shoulder your tote, “And… you’d be a shit poker player too.”

And with that, you turn and leave the room without a single backward glance.

You’re gone so quick that you don’t see the way Zoro stares after you, his own eyes narrowed into slits. You don’t see the way he frowns as one of his teammates nudges him with an elbow, reminding him that afternoon practice starts in 15 minutes.

four.

Tuesday night finds you slumped over a stack of books on the 3rd floor of the library, your entire body feeling odd and boneless. Hundreds of tiny flashcards are scattered across the top of the desk, each filled with a system you have to memorize before your test on Friday for your O-Chem course, when suddenly, a white paper cup appears in your field of vision, plopping onto the tiny slip of table still available between all your study materials.

“Hm?” you jerk up, blinking blearily up at a vaguely familiar green-haired figure even as he crosses his arms and sighs.

“There. Some real coffee. Looked like you need it,” Zoro says, glancing away the moment your eyes come into focus.

You stare at him for a solid ten seconds before looking back down at the cheap, watered-down cup of unsweetened coffee on the table before you.

Ew, you want to say, but somehow, “Thanks,” is what comes out of your mouth.

You reach for the cup, wincing slightly as you jerk your fingers back from the scalding exterior of the thin paper cup.

Zoro immediately leans down, snatching the cup from the table to blow on the surface. You watch him with wide, wondering eyes. It takes him a second to catch himself before he blushes a deep shade of maroon and clears his throat, quickly setting the cup back down on your desk, tucking both his hands into his pockets, looking anywhere but directly at you.

“It’s — careful — I mean — it’s from the vending machine downstairs so it’s not as fancy as the stuff we get from the coffee shop —”

Maybe it’s because you’re truly too tired, or maybe because Robin’s been right since day one but — you reach for the cup, carefully cradling it between your palms as you take a tentative sip and grimace at the watery, bitter aftertaste.

“Gross,” you say, though without any malice, glancing up at him. Zoro scoffs, dragging out an empty seat across from you, turning it around to straddle the chair, propping both his arms on the back as he looks at you. Your eyes once more catch on the way he’s gentler with his right side.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” you ask again, taking another tentative sip of the truly awful coffee.

Zoro grimaces, “None of your business.”

You sigh, the will to snark back rather feeble as you consider the mountain of vocab you have to memorize before your Friday test.

“Right, sure — keep your secrets,” you drone as you set the paper cup down and nudge it further away from you, “be mysterious for the next —” you check your watch, “eighteen hours before Practical Applications when you’ll have to explain to Coach Mihawk why you've been lying about an obvious injury three weeks before your next —”

“Fuck — okay.”

You pause, looking up from collecting your flash cards.

Zoro digs his fingers into his right shoulder.

“I — I think I pulled it at the tournament last week.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Your tournament was on Thursday.”

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, “And?”

“And it’s now Tuesday.”

Zoro doesn’t answer this time, but you have to actively fight down the urge to throw the no-longer-scalding-but-still-very-hot-coffee at his face. You tell yourself that the only thing stopping you is professionalism and sportsmanship instead of an unwillingness to damage his Michaelangelo-sculpted features.

“It’s been five days!”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to count.”

You bite back a frustrated scream as you push away from your chair and round the table to stand behind him, not giving him enough time to be bewildered before you press a palm to his right shoulder, already focused on finding the tender spots.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

You run an expert palm over the width of his shoulders, focusing on his right, fingers digging into various muscle groups until he winces.

“Ow.”

You grin as you find a tender patch to the right of his spine, almost beneath his shoulder blade.

“You strained your Rhomboid.”

“Gesundheit.”

You roll your eyes and reach over his back for the cup of coffee. You feel his breath hitch as your front presses full against his back.

“Hold still,” you say, pressing the side of the warm cup to the sore muscle.

Zoro makes a choked moaning noise that he tries to bite off, but not soon enough. It sizzles down your spine to curl at the base of your belly, spreading heat through your body in a way you have no urge to examine at this current point in time.

You hold it there for a minute, and then two, till the coffee’s gone lukewarm.

“Here,” you say, tugging the cup away to offer it to him.

He stares at the cup before glancing up at you.

“Caffeine helps with muscle soreness and pain — it’s probably why you’re so addicted to espresso all the time,” you offer by way of an explanation, even as he opens his mouth to ask. He closes his mouth and takes the coffee, downing half of it in a single gulp.

Then, he sets it down on the table before digging a crumpled packet of sugar out of his pants pocket.

“It’s… probably not as sweet as you usually like it but…” he presses it into the palm of your hand, looking anywhere but at your face, “should help the bitterness.”

And then he’s gone, slouching off towards the elevator bank, leaving you gaping after him with the packet of sugar in your hand, your rapidly cooling coffee, and a mountain of revisions you’ve got no hope of finishing tonight.

five.

Wednesday finds you practically sprinting as you reach your Practical Applications course, clutching at your chest as you burst through the gym doors, gasping for breath. Professor Kureha quirks an inquiring eyebrow at you while Mihawk, the fencing instructor, slates you a sharp, rueful glare.

“— as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” his bright hawk-yellow eyes flash back over the fencing team, “regionals are quickly approaching and we need you in top form. So — warm-ups stretches, everyone. Pair up and get to it. Zoro, up here with me.”

You duck your head and hurry towards your normal spot along the bleachers, slowing as you notice what looks like a cup of coffee from the Straw Hats Cafe occupying the place where you normally sit. You pick up the cup — it’s still hot to the touch.

On the coffee slip is a single word — Princess.

And though it’s in Sanji’s familiar coffee shop scrawl, only one person has ever called you that.

Heat crests up your chest, prickling at your cheeks. You don’t have to taste it to know that it’s your order — your favorite order. Briefly, you wonder if Sanji made Zoro recite the entire thing before agreeing to put it down, or if he’d spared Zoro the pain of having to say the word ‘decaf’ unironically.

And then you wonder if Nami teased him at all, waiting for his own drink on top of yours.

“Chop chop,” Professor Kureha says, grinning too wide as she wanders over, peering at you over her John Lennon shades, “you heard old Hawk-eyes — time to pair up.”

You hurriedly drop your bag and take a quick sip of our drink, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as the caramel-cinnamon goodness seeps into your blood vessels. Some nameless freshman hopeful from the fencing team is your partner for stretches and you patiently walk him through all the major motions, pushing on his back and laughing kindly when he can’t quite reach his toes.

You feel the faint tingle on the back of your neck that tells you someone’s staring, and you privately think that you don’t need three guesses to figure out who it is. But you don’t give Zoro the satisfaction of looking over till you help the blushing freshman finish all his stretches, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, reaching up on tip-toe to ruffle his hair even though he’s got a solid four inches over you.

When finally, you glance over towards where Mihawk is putting Zoro through his paces, it’s to find him flickering through the motions — flashes of silver, lithe, fluid — and you find your breath held captive in your chest by the sight.

You’ve always known Zoro to be a graceful fencer, but grace has nothing on the way he flows from one move to the next, each muscle drawn like a bow-string, each intake of breath timed and perfect. His arms and legs move in tandem and there’s a bewitching rhythm to the way his body breaks and bends. It is beauty and strength, dance and magic — power and promise and the sword-tip’s whish of premonition.

When he finishes, you suck in a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding.

You watch as Mihawk murmurs something to Zoro, who winces, looking chastened before Mihawk waves him away and Zoro sets down his epee, making his way over to you.

You open your mouth, about to make some snarky remark but Zoro reaches over his back with one hand and tugs his shirt off in a single, unbroken motion. You gulp, your voice failing you as your eyes settle on the strong ripple of his muscles as he tosses his shirt aside.

Zoro smirks, “Keep starin’ and I’m gonna have to start charging.”

You rip your eyes away, fire licking up the length of your torso as you reach into your bag for a roll of sports tape.

Zoro slumps down in the seat in front of you as you take stock of his sweat-slicked torso, your eyes still catching on the patch of swollen muscle beneath his shoulder blade. You reach forward and run a thumb along it, careful of the way he hisses.

“A hot-patch is only going to do so much,” you say, frowning as you drop the sports tape to focus on massaging the tender bit of skin.

Zoro groans, his eyes falling half shut as you slowly work at the various knots in his shoulders. Your fingers are slow and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure. And more than once, Zoro has to bite back what he’s sure would’ve been an indecent moan before it rolls out of his mouth at the way your soft palms press into the planes of his back, the tenseness of his shoulders.

“Keep moaning like that, I’m gonna have to start charging,” you say, much too close to his ear.

Zoro jerks, even as you pull back, laughing. The sound makes his skin prickle up with goosebumps and he doesn’t want to think about the myriad reasons why.

“I bought you coffee, twice,” he grumbles, cheeks pink, his mind still buzzing from the warmth of your palms.

You hum, your fingers flickering over his skin, pulling away for a second before he feels something wonderful and cool pressing against his sore, aching muscles.

“You’re right… you did buy me coffee twice. Even though the first time was horrible vending machine coffee and I used most of it as a heating pad for your injury.”

Zoro grunts, letting you manhandle him as you gently twist his right arm into an array of different stretches to test his range of mobility.

“Still counts.”

You put down his right arm to test his left. Zoro chooses not to think about the way his body tingles where your hands touch him, and especially not where you’re standing too close, your chest occasionally brushing against his shoulder. He chooses actively not to think about the way he can smell the soft, coconut milk fragrance of your lotion as you lean over him, rambling about doing the proper warm-up and cool-down exercises.

He grins as you reach over mid-sentence to finish your drink and you pause, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

He shrugs, “Nothin’… just that… seems like you liked your drink.”

Your eyes slingshot from his face to the nearly empty cup in your hands.

“I always like my —”

They widen when you realize that Zoro had in fact ordered a double shot of espresso in your usual drink instead of your normal decaf. And, that you’d been too distracted by him to notice.

“I — it — wh —”

Zoro languidly rises from his seat, grinning, “Thanks for the treatment, Princess. I owe you one — lemme buy you a coffee sometime, yeah?”

You stare after him as he makes his way across the room, back to the rest of the team for proper bouts. You force down another blush as you shove the now-empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can, your heart skidding to the rhythmic squeak of feet shuffling against the floors, the bell-like ting of epee blades, the murmur of the watching crowd.

six.

Thursday morning finds you ill-rested and grumpy as you join Robin in the quad, heading for the Straw Hats Cafe during free period.

“Trouble sleeping?” Robin asks, looking you over with mild concern.

You grunt, adjusting your bag, “Had coffee too late in the day.”

At this, Robin frowns, “But you only drink decaf.”

You grunt again, not looking at her, “Yeah, well.”

Robin blinks for a second before a knowing smile splits her lips, “Ah… so. Fencer-boy’s made his move.”

You round on her, fists clenched, “He has not! He just — he just bought me coffee!”

Robin remains infuriatingly unfazed as she stares at you, “Yes. And to most, that would constitute as ‘making a move’. And here I thought you were a fan of romance novels.”

You turn away from her, huffing even as your cheeks fill with color, “I — I am.”

“So?” she asks.

“So?” you echo, cursing yourself for sounding like a petulant child.

“So…” she continues, patient as always, “he bought you coffee.”

You crinkle your nose, your stomach a roiling mess as the pair of you make your way across the quad and duck into the cafe to Sanji’s bright, welcoming voice, your eyes scanning the queue even though you know that Zoro’s got morning practice. This does not go unnoticed by Robin, though she mercifully elects to not question you about it.

“Yes, he bought me coffee. But instead of decaf, he made it a double-shot.” You try very hard to make this sound like a personal affront, but Robin only dips her head.

“Ah,” she says again, and you feel the urge to run out of the building even as the pair of you shuffle towards the front of the line.

“Hi there, oh! I’ve got a special message for you,” Nami says as you get to the registers, her voice silken with glee as she reaches behind the counter to tug out what looks like a receipt. You glance down at the paper, confused, but she only winks as she moves to ask what Robin would like.

You inch to the side, distracted by this strange turn, your eyes dropping to the slip of paper, upon which is scribbled — Good luck on test tomorrow. Evening bout. Gym.

You stare at the cryptic message for a full minute before Robin ushers you toward the counter where Sanji is pumping out drinks, making girls blush as he winks at them each in turn.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Decaf Princess — though… seems like your tastes are a-changin’ these days,” Sanji says, grinning wide as you get to the counter, pushing a steaming cup towards you. You frown at the drink — cinnamon sprinkled atop a perfectly placed dollop of whipped cream, underneath which you’re sure is your favorite drink order. You look back up at Sanji.

“A certain mosshead jock put in an advanced order for you — said to give you an extra shot of espresso for the test you’ve got tomorrow.”

You sputter as Robin laughs beside you, thanking Sanji for her own Long Black.

“You know, you could just be normal and call it an Americano,” you say as the pair of you make your way out of the cafe. Robin grins, sipping at her drink.

“I could… but where’s the fun in that?” she slates you a glance, “More importantly, are you going?”

“To what?” you ask, not meaning to sound so defensive, but you can’t help it, and even as Robin sighs, you know that it’s useless.

“To the bout,” she says, unruffled.

You hunch into your upturned collar and your thick, layered scarf, cradling your drink, the sweet scent of syrup and cinnamon wafting up to tickle your nose. You blush at the thought of Zoro’s voice, full of morning gravel, shy as he lists out all the extremities you like in your coffee order.

“Maybe. I mean… why not, right?”

Robin nods, humming as she takes another long drink, “Mhm — why not indeed.”

You nudge her; she nudges you back. You both laugh as a church bell rings out from across the quad, sending a flock of birds scattering through the misty, morning air.

seven.

Friday evening finds you pushing through the wide gym doors, pressing your hands over the skirt you’d painstakingly picked out, chewing on your bottom lip.

You silently curse at Robin for pulling out last minute, begging off to some Ancient Languages focus group.

“I bet it’s not even real…” you mutter to yourself as you slip into the front row of the bleachers, looking for an empty seat. You somehow manage to look up just as Zoro is about to go on, his mask under one arm, his blade in the other.

You raise your hand in a half wave before catching yourself and shoving it back down, scowling as Zoro’s lips pull into a lopsided grin. You drop into a seat just as Zoro tugs his helmet on and stretches his arms. You tense as you see the slight wince he twitches away as he tests the weight of his blade.

But you needn’t have worried — the bout is quick and decisive, Zoro scoring one point after another, his blade flashing through the air, bright as fish scales. And before you know it, the buzzer sounds, marking his victory. You leap to your feet, cheering with the rest of the crowd as Zoro tugs off his mask and pumps his fists.

You catch his eye and for a moment, the wild rumble of the screaming crowd fades to a dull, thumping baseline. He jerks his head towards the lockers and you nod, swallowing hard as you duck through the still-cheering crowd towards the back of the gym.

When you get there, it’s to find him methodically polishing his blade, his mask set to the side, his thick jacket pulled down to pool around his waist, the rest of his protective wear scattered in heaps on the ground around him. You have half a mind to scold him for being so careless with what you know is expensive gear but you can’t keep yourself from staring at the wide planes of back, curving up to his shoulders, the thick cords of muscle that flex up either side of his neck.

He looks up as you shuffle in, your skirt suddenly feeling a bit too short, too risque for the near-winter weather outside.

You clear your throat and cast your eyes about the empty lockers. You don’t miss the way his gaze skates up your bare legs, pausing at the place where your skirt brushes the top of your thighs.

“Uhm — how’s your shoulder?” your voice sounds too high, echoing strangely along the white-tiled walls.

Zoro licks his lips and puts down his blade, rolling his right shoulder.

“Better but… still not great. Mihawk’s making me to do PT.”

You nod, letting out a soft laugh, “I’m glad. You’d never do it otherwise.”

He scoffs, “You know what that means though, right?” There’s a raw, rolling tension beneath his words, a sort of thickened expectation as he stares at you with dark, meaningful eyes.

You purse your lips, your stomach tightening.

“I —”

Zoro gets to his feet, and you barely register the soft clatter of his blade as it rolls to the side on the bench. He closes the space between you in three quick steps and you find yourself marveling at his speed — wondering vaguely if this is how all his opponents feel when he slips forward, the tip of his blade digging into their shoulder or stomach or the bend of their hip.

“Means we’re stuck with each other. At least till you fix me for regionals in two weeks.”

Your back meets the icy chill of the locker doors and the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them —

“Bold of you to assume that you’re fixable in two weeks.”

Zoro quirks an eyebrow, even as you resist the urge to clap your hands to your mouth, cursing inwardly at whatever the hell made you say that out loud. Your heart thuds an insistent drumbeat inside your chest as Zoro leans casually against the lockers next to you. Like this, you can feel the heat of his skin, the rhythm of his long breaths as he looks you over with sharp, curious eyes.

You think you can taste the sweet, tepid weight of his breath. It smells faintly of coffee and mint and synthetically flavored protein bars.

“Then…” he drawls, propping an arm against the locker door right next to your face, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again. Your gaze is unabashedly caught on the shape of his mouth, but when you finally force yourself to look up at his eyes, it’s to find them warm and amused.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

You gulp, “To fix your shoulder?”

Zoro shrugs, “That and… whatever else you think needs to be fixed.”

You purse your lips, an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words.

“Who knows? Might take three weeks… might take — forever —” your words cut off as he leans in to graze his lips against yours. And you’re momentarily caught between delight and bewilderment that you’re right — they do taste of coffee and mint and salt — but that they also taste of a dull, throbbing hunger as he leans in to kiss you proper. And then, the blooming realization that you’re just as desperate as he is, pushing in, fingers scrabbling against the skin of his chest as his skim along the sides of your ribs, the dip of your waist.

He kisses you so deep and so long that you’re actually gasping when he finally pulls away to suck a stinging hickey into the smooth of your collarbone, his fingers digging grooves into your thighs as he hoists you up to press you against the cold, hard metal of the lockers.

You let out a clipped moan at the same time he does, and his right arm twitches, though he makes no move to let you go.

Distantly, your mind registers the fact that he’s still technically injured, but the part of you that’s hungry and clawing at the base of your stomach with a fierce, immutable need refuses to listen to reason. It takes more effort than it logically should’ve done to extricate yourself from his grasp, to push him away despite his disgruntled sigh as he stumbles back and stares at you with dark, dangerous eyes.

“What —”

“Fuck —” you hiss, even as you let your head fall back against the lockers, the dull thunk pulling a wolfish grin to his lips.

“Yeah, well —”

“Wait — no —”

Zoro cocks his head, “No?”

You reach forward to tug him back, to kiss him as deeply and desperately as you dare, but you pull away before he can properly sink into the kiss and you pin him with a look.

“We — your shoulder —”

“Fuck my shoulder —”

You shake your head, almost delusional with the heat and want and the insanity of it all, “No! We can’t! We — we’ve gotta take care of it first!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, “It’ll get better if we just leave it alone —”

You shake your head again, laughing as he presses back in, slower this time, grazing his knuckles along the skin of your jaw, tilting you back towards him.

“It won’t,” you say, softly, letting him run a thumb along your lips, “but… if you let me take care of it. It will heal faster…” you trail off, letting the implications simmer beneath the surface of all your unsaid words, and it only takes a second for Zoro to consider before he lowers you to the floor and starts haphazardly gathering up his things.

You drag a hand across your lips, watching him.

“So…” you feel yourself blush as you muster up the words but Zoro scoffs, already impatient as he shoves his stuff into one of the larger lockers and slams the door.

“Mine. It’s closer.”

eight.

His, is — in fact — much closer than you’d thought. Only two blocks from the campus, and in one of the most expensive dorm buildings. You wonder how much he must be paying for it before you realize that he's on a sports scholarship, but you can’t even bring yourself to be bitter as he lets you into his spacious dorm, the giant living room scattered with game consoles and opened cereal boxes, leading to a short hallway that opens into his bedroom.

It’s cleaner than you’d imagined, with a set of light green linens drawn neatly over a full-sized bed, and two sets of pillows.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says, sweeping some energy bar wrappers into the trash from his desk as he tosses down his duffle bag.

You shake your head, looking around, your eyes catching on the thick volumes of fencing books, the endless stacks of sports magazines, the huge set of free weights on a rack in the corner by the closet.

“Uh… do you want a drink?” he asks, suddenly awkward as he scratches at the back of his head.

You turn towards him with a grin, “No. But I do want you to take off your shirt.”

Zoro blinks before he smiles and moves towards the bed, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as he leans back on the bed, his perfectly tanned stomach flexing beneath the slanted desk-light as he watches you through lazily hooded eyes.

“On your stomach,” you say, your voice light and surgical as you open your own bag and tug out a tub of medicated massage cream.

Zoro stares for a second before the smile slips off his face to be replaced by a dull, knowing scowl. Still, he doesn’t argue as he flips onto his stomach and sighs, pillowing his cheek on his arms as he pouts at the wall.

“Like I told you — we need to take care of your shoulder first. Regionals are in two weeks. We can’t have you performing like you did tonight.”

Zoro attempts a glare over his shoulder as you carefully maneuver over his back and straddle his hips, warming your palms with the massage cream before setting to work.

“I still won.”

His voice is tight and petulant. You nod, sighing as you work your thumbs into the dip beneath his shoulder blade where you know he’s still sore. He hisses, jerking away from you. You pin him in place with your free arm and continue to roll your thumb across the bundle of muscle.

Two minutes in, you press a bit harder and he lets out a pitched whine that makes you pause in your ministrations.

“F-fuck —” he buries his face in his pillow, thumping a fist against his bed as you laugh and continue the massage, though taking care to be a bit more careful around his injury.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you climb off the bed and wipe your hands. Zoro groans, shifting to watch you with half-lidded eyes and color-stained cheeks.

“I know,” you say, holding up your hands, “that really hurt but you feel much better now, right?”

Zoro grins, sleepy as he blinks slowly up at you, “Yeah. Whatever.”

And then, a long moment later —

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft, flipping onto his side and shifting on the bed as if to make room for you, “stay.”

You freeze, almost unwilling to believe your own ears as you finish putting away your supplies. You glance at him with tight lips and hopeful eyes.

There’s a tiny grin threatening the corners of his lips as he sighs, making a show of yawning and stretching.

“It’s late… and I don’t really feel like walking you back.”

You fold your arms, “I could just call campus security to escort me.”

Zoro stills for a second but a moment later, he casts his eyes up at the ceiling, “Yeah… you could…”

You make no move to leave.

“But you still owe me coffee in the morning,” he says.

You frown, “Wait, what? How’s that?”

He glances at you, “I’ve bought you coffee twice.”

“Yeah, but I just gave you a free 30-minute medical massage treatment for your shoulder.”

“You would’ve had to do it anyway on Wednesday in Practical Applications.”

You narrow your eyes, “Professor Kureha might not have assigned me to you.”

At this, Zoro scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re the best, and so am I.”

“S-she might not have!” you say, though there’s no real conviction in your voice. You both know that he’s right.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He turns away from you, making as if to go to sleep.

You glare at his back, dropping your bag with a loud thump.

“If anything, you owe me coffee now. That massage was worth at least two coffees, if not more.” You plop down on the edge of his bed, scowling at the opposite wall.

Zoro is quiet for a beat too long and you chance a glance at him, only to find him peering you with a strangely indulgent look in his eyes. You blush, tearing your eyes away.

“How’s breakfast?” he asks, his voice once again going soft. Your skin prickles with heat.

“What about breakfast?”

“Coffee and breakfast. That enough to pay for the massage?”

You can’t help the smile that threatens to break across your lips as you glance back at him and catch his eyes.

“I…. guess.”

Zoro chuckles, the sound so low in his throat that it makes you shiver. Quick as anything, he reaches over to pull you down towards him, easily looping an arm around your middle and flipping you both so that you’re pinned beneath him. You barely have time to gasp before you find his lips on yours once more, slow and sweet and shockingly steady.

You kiss him back, letting him push you gently into the crumpled linens of his bed. His fingers are light as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, reaching behind your torso to loosen your bra and tug your shirt from you in a single, smooth motion.

You shiver beneath him and he pulls back to stare. You search his eyes, feeling suddenly uncertain.

“God, you’re gorgeous…”

Heat crests into your cheeks as you try to look away. But he tugs you back with his thumb and steals another kiss.

“It’s late…” he says, pulling away to press your foreheads.

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I know…”

“Let’s sleep in tomorrow.”

You laugh, shifting as he curls his body around you, tugging you easily against his chest and pulling the covers over you both. A moment later, the lights click off and you’re both thrown into darkness. You let yourself relax into his arms, wondering just how you’re going to explain this to Robin tomorrow.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Zoro’s voice murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You grin, nodding as you press further back into him and he grazes a soft kiss along your skin.

“That kinda thinking needs breakfast and coffee first,” you say, to which Zoro chuckles, nodding as he lets you hook your ankles between his, your bodies settling against each other, warm and perfect, the curves and bends meeting like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally, finally finding each other at last.

You don’t have long enough to ponder on the light, musk-salt-sweet of his skin or the way you can feel his heartbeat as it threads along your spine or the way that somehow, the shape of him doesn’t feel foreign against the shape of you, before you’re already falling asleep. And to him, he doesn’t have time to ponder the lovely silk of your hair, just as soft as he’d always imagined, or the way your waist feels perfect beneath his hands, or how he’s somehow he’s always known the rhythm of your breaths before he too is falling into the warm embrace of a dark, sweet, restful sleep as well.

nine.

Saturday morning finds you both tangled in each other, the winter sun bright and cold as it slates through the slits of Zoro’s bedroom window. He wakes up first, shifting to stretch until he feels the weight of you beside him. And then suddenly, he's somehow achingly awake and aware of his body against yours, of your paced breaths and his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. For one bewildering moment, he can’t quite remember what brought him here, and then the scenes from the night before — the bout, the lockers, the kiss — the way you’d tasted, how utterly irresistible you’d been, blushing in the dim light of his room, your skillful fingers digging into his tender, swollen flesh — his own rash promise of breakfast and coffee — it all comes rushing back. Zoro lets out a long breath and leans in to brush his lips along your forehead.

You let out a light groan as you shift in his arms, and when you turn, it’s to find him watching you.

“Oh… hey.”

Your voice is quiet, almost shy as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and he finds himself more endeared than he has words to say.

He clears his throat.

“Morning. Uh… sleep well?”

You laugh, the warmth of your expelled breath ghosting across his clavicle in a way that makes him shiver.

“Mhm… pretty well… and you?”

Zoro clears his throat, “Yeah. Guess it wasn’t… bad.”

He resists the urge to roll away, if only because your cheek is still pillowed on his arm, and he can’t bring himself to pull away from you just yet. So instead, he drops his nose into your hair and takes in the milky scent of your coconut lotion. Tiny, pin-pricks of desire shoot through him, teasing goosebumps into the skin of his back and arms, but he forces himself to lie still as you snuggle against his chest with a contented sigh.

“So… breakfast and coffee?”

Zoro grunts, “Hn. I did promise.”

You smile, letting yourself sink into the thick and syrup of his sleep-deepened voice, his moss-green hair even more tousled than it normally is as he adjusts his head on his pillow.

“Hey,” you say, breathless as you look up at him beneath the sweep of your lashes, your eyes so big and dark and wide Zoro wonders if they might swallow him whole.

“Hey,” he answers, just as breathless, uncertainty creeping up the center of his chest as he stares down at you, lying in the glistening, mercurial light, the bend of your shoulder kissed by the morning sun, the shape of you limned in silver and gold.

You lean up to kiss him before he has the chance to second-guess himself, and though he was the more bold, self-assured one last night, you press in against him this morning, the languid sweep of your tongue along his lips making him groan, helpless, against you. He tastes the satisfied grin at the corner of your mouth as he opens his own, his mind frizzing into gorgeous, white static as you spend what feels like hours exploring the sweet depths of each other's mouths — all tongue and teeth and kiss-swollen lips.

When finally you pull apart, he is more breathless than he’d planned for, his body too warm for his liking, an urgent, pulsing something burning at the base of his stomach as he fights the urge to shove you back and sink his teeth into your skin, to hear you hiss, to make you gasp, to leave the indent of his fingers along the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, to mark you as his in every way he knows how.

But instead, he places a lingering kiss on your cheek and sits up, slowly stretching his arms.

“Careful…” you warn, pushing yourself up as well, watching him, “how’s it feel?”

Zoro tests his right side, drawing his arm up and then to the side, and then pulling it across his torso.

“Whoa… so much better.”

You smile, satisfied.

Zoro chuckles, “Guess I really do owe you breakfast. C’mon.”

He slips out of bed, tugging open a drawer to toss you a thick sweater and a pair of sweatpants. For himself, he only tugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, even as you frown, squinting at him from where you’re nearly swimming in his clothes.

“You’ll freeze.”

Zoro smirks as he looks you over, reaching over to pull the hood over your mussed tangle of hair, “Nah, I’m fine.”

You pout, jerking open the drawer to pull out a sweater and tossing it at him.

“You have to keep your right side warm so your muscles don’t just seize up again.”

Zoro stares at the sweater in his hand, looking reluctant before you press your lips into an exaggerated pout.

“C’mon… I worked so hard on getting it better last night… please?”

Zoro groans, rolling his eyes as he tugs on the sweater.

“Yeah, yeah — fine. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for you, nor does he extend his hand. But the pair of you walk elbow to elbow, hip against hip down the bright dorm room hallway, into the chilly Saturday morning air.

“Geez, if you’re gonna yell at me to keep warm —” Zoro reaches over to tug on the drawstrings of your sweater, frowning as he notices how much skin he can still see beneath the opening of the hoodie.

You blush, tugging at it as the pair of you make your way across the empty campus quad.

Halfway across the frost-kissed lawn, he wordlessly reaches out to catch your hand in his, tucking your entwined fingers into the depths of his pocket. You bite back a stupid, dopey grin as you duck your head, quickening your pace to keep up, your footsteps crunching in the dew-bitten grass, the freshly raked gravel.

ten.

There’s already a decent line at the Straw Hats Cafe, but when the pair of you walk in hand in hand, both Sanji and Nami pause for a second longer than usual. Sanji’s eyebrows jerk up his forehead while Nami’s lips curl into a much too satisfied grin as she turns back to the humming espresso machines.

You savor in the smell of freshly ground coffee, absently tracing your thumb over the back of Zoro’s hand.

When you both reach the front, Sanji looks between you expectantly.

“Well, well, well — I’d like to say I’m surprised but —” he shrugs, grinning cheekily, “Well then I’d be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Zoro clicks his tongue but you shoot him a sheepish smile, pursing your lips.

“So… the usual then?” Sanji asks, his fingers poised over the register.

“Yep,” Zoro says, curt as ever, though there’s a distinct blush on his cheeks that not even he can write off as anything else.

You nod as well, “Oh, but… I think I’ll try a non-decaf latte this time. Just one shot of espresso though, please and thank you.”

Sanji blinks at you for a second before letting out a startled laugh and nodding, punching in your order.

“Coming right up, sweet cheeks. Right then, that’d be 8.75 for the latte and 5.50 for the double espresso.”

Zoro reaches into his wallet and pulls out a 20, slipping it across the counter. Down the bar, Nami is humming, looking cheerier than you’ve ever seen her this early in the morning as she goes about making your drinks.

Sanji sighs as he shakes his head, handing Zoro his change.

Zoro narrows his eyes but Sanji cuts him off.

“Take it from me, fam. You don’t wanna know.”

You and Zoro share a puzzled look as you both shuffle down to the pick-up counter, where Nami is sliding your finished drinks toward you with a bright, knowing glint to her eyes. Zoro clears his throat and reaches over for a packet of sugar, nonchalantly tipping it into his drink before picking it up to take a sip.

You try not to gape as you grab your own drink, flashing Nami a quick smile before turning to follow Zoro.

He picks a table as far away from the counter as possible, tucked into a corner, nearly invisible to the rest of the shop. When you sit down, he frowns at your chair for a second before reaching out to tug you across the floor till your chair is next to his. He goes back to his drink without a single word.

It’s all you can do to blush and stare at your steaming cup.

“I thought we were getting coffee and breakfast,” you say after a brief moment of silence.

Zoro grunts, “We are. Coffee first.”

You nod, somewhat mollified as you take another sip of your drink. The warmth trickles down your chest to rest somewhere in the center of your stomach, spreading heat throughout your body in waves.

“We could just get a chocolate croissant,” you say, giving Zoro a sidelong look.

Zoro frowns, tapping his finger against the side of his cup, “Dessert isn’t breakfast.”

You scoff, “Says who?”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Says me. And I’m payin’ for it.”

You purse your lips, wondering if you should argue more before deciding against it. A few seconds later, Zoro sighs, casting his eyes about the cafe interior.

“We can have a croissant after real breakfast.”

You giggle into your drink, swallowing down the glee fluttering in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your still kiss-chapped lips.

“Kay, whatever you say.”

Zoro rolls his eyes and folds his arms, but his elbow presses against yours and he doesn’t make to move away.

Across the cafe, Nami leans to watch the pair of you, Sanji at her side, looking both stunned and somewhat pained.

“C’mon man, it’s not even been a week!”

Nami grins, rinsing out a few cups and placing them mouth down to dry before pivoting on her heels and holding out an expectant palm. Sanji sighs as Nami’s eyes glitter with mirth and a hard-won glee.

“Right. I think you owe me fifty bucks.”

Sanji narrows his eyes, glancing back at where you and Zoro are tucked into the corner of the cafe.

“Double or nothing on when they’ll have their first fight. I say… not till next week.”

Nami’s eyebrows twitch up. She looks back at where the pair of you are now bickering over where to have breakfast. A smirk teases at her lips.

She puts down her hand, “Alright then… but like I said — it’s your funeral, Sanji.”

Over in the corner, there’s the dull scrape of chair legs as you push yourself away from the table to fold your arms.

“— Belgian waffles are absolutely an acceptable meal for breakfast!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, though there’s still an amused spark behind his eyes.

“Breakfast without eggs ain’t real breakfast. And doesn’t count if it’s smothered in syrup either.”

You make an indignant noise, frowning even as Zoro tugs you back to press a napkin to your upper lip, where there’s a faint line of whipped cream residue.

Sanji backpedals immediately, “Uh — right so, I feel like we need to define what really constitutes a ‘fight’, yeah?”

Nami tuts, shaking her head, “Nope! A bet’s a bet. Now pay up.”

feedback always welcome :) reqs are closed.

---

The moment the notification showed up on my screen, I immediately clicked on it and started reading.

Thank you for another amazing chapter, author. Remember to take care of yourself.

Chaos in Their Bones Ch.7

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.  

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 13k+

A/N:  Thank you to everyone for being patient with me. I know this took a little longer than usual to be posted. This chapter is dark. Well, it deals with darker themes. It’s nothing too wild, just yet, but it’s heading there. This is a filler chapter and deals with the beginning of Doc and Zoro spending almost an entire week apart and a little more on Doc’s backstory. Thank you all for your music recommendations and the playlists you created. It helped me write this. I’m sorry if it isn’t that great. As always, thank you guys, for all the love and support. For always being so kind and loving my story as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Previous

Warnings: mentions of torture

Five minutes. 

Five minutes Arlong gave you to go pack up your life on the Going Merry and report back to his ship. 

“If you aren’t back in five I’ll tear this place apart.”

You knew he meant it. The biggest giveaway was the way he’d kept a foot pressed against Luffy’s back. His clown henchmen repeatedly splashed water on him and laughed at every grimace they worked onto Luffy’s features. You knew it had to burn worse than that of a jellyfish sting. 

Mother Ocean held no sympathy for Devil Fruit eaters. Not even ones as good as Luffy.

You never knew you could hate someone so much in your life the way you hated Arlong. The way that hatred burned brighter under the weight of his dead eyes as they followed you up the ramp to the Merry. His guttural laughter chased you into your room where you struggled to gain your composure. 

This was the right call to make. That’s what you kept telling yourself. There was no doubt in your mind that Arlong would throw Luffy into the ocean just to make an example out of him. To laugh as he struggled to come to the surface knowing damn well Mother Ocean would never let him live. 

The world would be a lesser place without someone like Luffy in it. Your freedom for his life felt like such a small price to pay to make sure that didn’t happen. 

So, why did it feel so damn bad? Your room was still a haphazard mess from earlier. You still haven't gotten around to cleaning any of it up and now you would never get the chance. You wondered if you would ever see Naan again or if Usopp would have to tell her what happened. If Naan would call you a stupid, foolish girl as she would when you got caught trying to sneak out your bedroom window at curfew and leave it at that. Or maybe the news would cause her to finally break. 

It hit you all at once that you would probably never see Usopp again. Luffy. Sanji…Zoro. 

The thought alone made the tears you’d been holding back begin to fall against your desk. All the scattered bottles and notes seem to describe exactly how your life had turned out: an absolute mess. 

You wiped your cheeks and grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper and quickly began to scribble a note. You weren’t sure why, but you had a feeling that on the off chance, Zoro did wake up he might take your absence as a relief or might not care at all. It was your duty, literally the last thing you could do, to make sure he remembered that you gave him hell. 

You tossed the pen down on the table and started folding it over and over until it came back to the tiniest square. Small enough to fit in his palm. Letting out a heavy sigh you walked back to the door of your cabin and turned around one last time to look at it. 

Arlong and his fishmen were waiting just outside the Merry. You didn’t have time to try to set everything to memory. Arlong seemed like the type of asshole to punish people for the smallest of inconveniences - like making him wait a minute longer than you should’ve for you to show up. 

But you couldn’t just leave. 

Not without saying goodbye. 

Quickly, you made your way out of your room and down the hall towards Nami’s. It still hurt walking past the threshold to find Zoro’s lifeless body still where you’d left him. It’d been a day, but already it felt like a lifetime. Taking in a deep breath, you made your way over to the bed. 

You prayed that his eyes would magically open. That he would focus on you and smile like he was happy to see you. He would wake up and do what he usually does, hit things and somehow together with Luffy - and now Sanji - save the day. Realistically, you knew that couldn’t happen. You couldn’t allow it to happen. 

If Zoro magically woke up he would be in pain and his body still fighting to mend itself. The wound on his chest ran the danger of splitting back open if he so much as lifted that sword. No. This time Zoro couldn’t be your hero, but maybe you could be his. 

One day. 

The chair was still placed close to the bed and it tempted you to take a seat. To sit down and tell him everything one last time before…before…

Fresh tears caught in your lashes and blurred your vision forcing you to wipe at them furiously. The frustration was evident as you did it harder than was necessary, causing black spots to appear in your vision. 

“You missed one of your favorite things to do today.” Your voice betrayed you; tinged with the colors of every emotion that raged inside you. “The ending might’ve gone differently if you’d been there or maybe this is how it was supposed to end all along.” 

With the small square of paper written with all the things left unsaid between the two of you in your hand, you reached out and tucked it inside his palm. You allowed yourself to hold his hand just a little longer. A strong debate began to war inside you if you should reach out and run your fingers through his hair. If you should be doing anything at all. 

“I’m still mad at you, Zoro. You broke something inside me, and now you’ll never get the chance to fix it. I’ll be like this forever.” 

Every word came out gradually softer than the other until it was almost a whisper. Your hand reached out to allow the side of your finger to gently trace the sharp line of his jaw and, for a brief moment, you thought you felt the flutter of him squeezing your hands. It felt so real your eyes shifted down to your intertwined hands just to make sure. It didn’t surprise you to find you were the only one holding back. 

With your eyes shut tight, you took in a sharp breath and reminded yourself you couldn’t break down just yet. You still had to walk one last time in front of Luffy and your crew mates. The long walk to go up the ramp and stand on the deck of Arlong’s warship. A warship that carried someone you considered a friend who had some explaining to do. 

Opening your eyes you found Zoro looking blissfully peaceful, oblivious to everything that was currently happening. What you would give to experience just a bit of that for a second? 

“Even if I am forever broken…I don’t regret you.” 

And you meant it. Maybe Naan was right that caring for others made you weak, but you would gladly be weak again for Zoro if that meant sitting around a table drinking and allowing Nami to cheat at poker. And you knew she had to be cheating. No one won every game like that unless they were sneaking cards. 

Just like that, your time was up. You needed to go. 

You didn’t want Arlong or his goons to taint the Merry by walking on her deck and bleaching her wood with their hatred as they searched for you. You most certainly did not want him in here, or anywhere, with Zoro. 

With that thought in mind, you dipped down just enough that your lips were close to his ear. Your mind debated one last time if you should do this before you whispered, “When you wake up come and save me, Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro. I’ll be waiting.” 

In a flash, you gently kissed his cheek and released his hand. Your feet spun around to the door quickly enough your vision tilted but you didn’t have time to adjust. You dashed out of the room and back onto the deck without ever looking back to notice the hand you’d been holding twitched. 

————

Your heart hammered in your chest as you crested over the side of the Merry. Arlong no longer held Luffy’s wet body prisoner underneath his foot. He’d let Sanji and Usopp bring him over to the safety of where the waitstaff had come out. 

You felt your stomach drop as you watched Zeff push his way to stand in front of his waitstaff. His eyes were wet with tears that you chalked up to the force of the wind. He looked ready to plead with you or to call you an absolute idiot. You could practically hear his gruff, “Don’t throw your life away like this,” sitting heavy in the air. You hoped he’d understand that you had no choice.

“My patience is wearing thin, girl.” 

As terrifying as Arlong was, you suddenly felt your skin flush with anger. Naan and Zeff called you girl based on affection; their voices tinged with the authority of a teacher. Arlong used it like an insult; a dog to be brought to heel. 

You could feel the acidic taste of that anger on the tip of your tongue. It threatened to make you do something stupid - something you knew he’d make you regret slowly and over time. You couldn’t trust yourself not to say anything so you kept your mouth shut and made quick work of making your way down the ramp. You’d barely stepped back onto the dock when the larger fishman came forward and grabbed your arm and almost lifted you clean off the deck. 

“Get your hands off her!”

You knew that voice. It belonged to a certain blonde-haired chef who sounded ready to take on Poseidon. 

“Don’t, little eggplant.”

“We can’t just-“

“I know, son.” 

It wasn’t until tiny pigtail Ninja swung you around that you were able to see them. Luffy was holding onto Usopp who was looking at you more lost than you’d ever seen him. The puppy dog look was usually reserved to try and get him out of trouble and never once was directed at you. 

Not until now. 

“Get going. We’ve done enough of this dog and pony show.” 

Tiny Pigtails released your arm and shoved you forward. He wasn’t giving you a chance to say last goodbyes or look back any longer. Weakly, you heard Luffy call your name in a plea to what? Turn around? Or maybe he wanted an explanation that they wouldn’t let you give. Either way, you were walking towards the beginning of the choice you’d made. 

He shoved you one more time and you were close to snapping when Nami appeared like a ghost. The grip she held on your arm was much lighter than that of Tiny Pigtails. As if the following was a suggestion and not a requirement. 

“Sister Nami will take you to the ship. You sail from there.” 

He didn’t move right away. He seemed to think you might make a run for it. To be honest, you felt a little offended. Did you really want to go with them? Hell no. Were you going to go back on your word and let Arlong hurt your crew mates? Also a big hell no. So, you had no other option than to walk back with Nami towing you to the ship. 

“I got it from here, Kuroobi.”

So, that was his name. You were still going to call him Tiny Pigtails just out of spite. 

Nami began to pull you towards the ship and you couldn’t help but pull your arm loose from her grip. The movement forced you both to stop and face one another. She looked panicked. Her eyes brimming with a mixture of emotions that left her in danger of bursting. 

“What are you doing?” She seethed. “Get to the ship.”

“I can walk there without a damn babysitter.”

Your words held as much bite as her own. If she wanted to play hard-ass pirate you could easily do the same. Although, a part of you wasn’t sure if she was playing or if her entire speech on hating piracy was real. This entire situation felt like a fever dream and was edging into a nightmare. 

The two of you walked up towards the ship in silence. Your teeth practically gnawing a hole into your cheek to keep you from bursting at the seams. 

You continued to follow her onto the deck of the ship. Your feet were never far from hers as she seemed to make a beeline towards a door that could’ve led to nowhere and everywhere all at once. It could’ve been a dungeon for all you cared, you just wanted to get her alone and-

The minute Nami’s body moved through the door frame you pounced. Your hands reached out to grab her by her shoulders and spin her around to face you. Unfortunately for you, Nami had training and she took your nonverbal desire for answers as danger. One minute, you were standing in the open and the next your back was against the wall with her forearm pressed extra snug against your chest. 

“Nami, I’m just trying to get you to talk to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about.”

Each word was squeezed between her teeth. Her eyes went wild as they searched your face and you weren’t sure what she was looking for, but if she simply asked you’d tell her. 

“Ugh, I think there is a lot to discuss. Besides the revelation of you working with Arlong, which I’m still up in the air about.” God, you were rambling but you couldn’t stop. “I’m also working on my own hypothesis that there is something else you’re not sharing-“

“Are you panic talking right now?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s noticeable.”

“I thought so,” you huffed. “But that isn’t going to deter me from the fact I did in fact have a working theory you’re still hiding something. It’s okay to tell me.”

Nami rolled her eyes as she released you and resumed her retreat somewhere back in the cabin. It was most likely a room she had on the vessel. 

“You and Luffy just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Is that a rhetorical question or-“

Nami whirled on you again and this time your hands went up in a show of surrender. 

“What do you want, Doc?”

“I want you to remember I’m your friend. I give a shit about you, even if you’re making horrendous decisions.” You took a cautious step towards her, hands still up in case she felt the need to shove you against any more walls. “I think you want to be here even less than I do.”

A whirlwind of emotions flashed behind her eyes in a hurricane of thought you couldn’t follow. You could see her going through every possible outcome in how to answer yours or maybe she was still trying to hide whatever it was she didn’t want you to know. 

“I am not your friend.” Nami tried to keep the anger that bristled through her earlier in her tone, but you could hear it breaking like glass. “I don’t need any of you.”

Your eyes scanned her face looking to see if there was something real there. Something more than she wished you would see but Nami hardened herself until the only thing you could see was indifference. 

“If you can’t believe what you’re saying Nami, how do you expect me to?”

“Just because I’m not who you want me to be doesn’t make what’s happening any less true. I’m going to my room. Don’t follow me.”

She knew you well. You did want to follow her because no matter how much she went on the defensive, you knew what you knew. Luffy had given Nami the map for either protection purposes or because she was the navigator or both. Either way, she’d had it since the first time they’d arrived at Syrup Village. Nami had plenty of opportunities to run with the map without ever saying anything. 

It was then you realized that’s exactly what she tried to do earlier yesterday in the morning. You’d caught her trying to leave but she’d returned because deep down, she knew who her real crew mates were and it sure as shit wasn’t Arlong. No, she’d been running from a truth this whole time and when she had the chance to steal away into the night she couldn’t. 

Honestly, leaving during Zoro’s duel to the death was the perfect escape plan. None of you would’ve noticed if Nami was gone until she had miles of ocean between herself and the Baratie. Yet, she couldn’t leave while Zoro fought Mihawk. She came back to be there for her friend she’d declared an idiot - a friend she came back to support even if she didn’t agree with his choices. Even when Arlong arrived at the Baratie all she wanted was to run and for all of you to run with her. 

No, the only person Nami was trying to fool here was herself and you were dying to know why. 

——————-

Come and save me, Pirate Hunter…..Roronoa Zoro….

The wind was talking to him again. 

At first, Zoro pushed it aside as a soft rustling of leaves and the bowing of branches swayed to a force he couldn’t see. It was a force he followed as he brought down his sword in practice. Every muscle was taut and ready to move into action at the flick of his wrist. His body was caught in a deadly game of balance of waiting and striking; for a chance to strike deadly and true. 

It was easy to ignore until he heard it again. The way the voice buried itself under the leaves at his feet and slithered its way to him. It started off like a whisper; a singular voice growing in volume until it reached him sounding like the voices of many. 

        ...pirate….hunter….

                                   Roronoa….

For a split second, panic overtook him. His practice stance turned defensive as both swords crossed to ward off any oncoming blow. His eyes scanned the clearing for a sign of energy - a reason to explain why his heart beat like a caged animal. His eyes were fixated in finding the sound until a hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself. 

He turned fast, swords ready to pierce, only to come face-to-face with Kuina. 

“What has you so jumpy?”

Her presence should have made Zoro feel more at ease. Maybe Kuina too would hear the strangeness that took over the grove, but for now she was waiting for an answer. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Well, it can’t be too much of nothing if it’s got you sweating like this.”

“I’m not sweating over the wind,” he bit out.

The smirk on Kuina’s face made him want to tell her to draw his sword. To send her thoughts of him being worried about wind or anything else in a resonating clash of swords. Zoro knew he would get his chance since it was time for them to train together anyway. 

“You finally surpassed me.” 

Her words startled him out of his stance. His swords hanging lifeless at his side, no longer caring about if he gave off anything other than strength. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Remember when I told you that eventually, all the boys will grow taller and stronger. You included Zoro.”

“Stop playing games, Kuina.”

No. Zoro remembered this conversation. The day she should’ve ended him for his weakness in their first battle of steel. She’d still been trying to train him even as he fought to end her life. The way she spoke about correcting his form - dropping his fucking elbow - and the sloppy way he rushed in out of anger. 

The same way he rushed in with Mihawk. 

He’d been consumed with his desire to become the world’s greatest swordsman. To take Mihawk’s title and prove for once that he was worthy of carrying her sword - her memory. 

No. What was he even thinking? He shook his head in anger to ground him back to this moment. To Kuina. 

“There’s no game to play here, Zoro. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Did you come to practice or spin your stupid tales of wisdom early?”

“Gods, you are still stubborn,” she hushed. 

Zoro could feel his words loaded on the back of his tongue and ready to release at any second. His annoyance felt potent at her constant word games and at her bringing up a conversation he’d informed her was idiotic. She was so powerful. Why couldn’t she see that?

“You don’t belong here, Zoro.”

Fuck. He was getting more confused each time she spoke. Zoro needed to sheath his swords, but he couldn’t shake the unease that he should keep them out. 

“Kuina, stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what you mean!”

“You’re floating somewhere between life and death, and now isn’t the time for you to die. You need to get back and grow stronger. Stronger than me. Stronger than you are now.” 

In an instant, the flash of the last few hours emerged at warp speed through his mind. Eating with Luffy and everyone at Baratie. Drinking. Mihawk. You. As if the thought of you was enough to conjure you, Zoro’s skin came alive with goosebumps like he’d sensed a ghost. 

Immediately, his eyes scanned through the forest hungrily searching for any sign of your presence and came up short. The illusion that’d been created was fading. 

He was no longer his younger self waiting for Kuina like he’d done countless times before. His skin itched to begin his training and to feel the vibrations of the metal ricochet in his palms. It was made painfully obvious that Zoro stood inches above her, and yet Kuina didn’t seem phased. 

She knew this would happen. 

“You can’t die here, Zoro. You have a promise to keep. remember?”

Of course, he remembered. He always remembered. Even before they made their vow, Zoro wanted nothing more - dreamed of nothing more - than to be the greatest in all of the East Blue. Of people coming from every corner of the world to try and best him in battle only to fall short. It’s all he ever wanted. Until Luffy offered him a home. Until you pushed him back inside his room with tinted cheeks that grew on him with each passing second. 

Zoro wanted to see you blush like that for the rest of his life. 

This time when the wind rippled through the trees and the sound of those words shook their leaves he knew what it was this time. Your voice. Your voice speaking to him somewhere far away. 

His eyes broke away from Kuina and looked through every entrance of the forest again. This time his body practically radiated with the knowledge you were close. All he had to do was find you. 

He turned fast on his feet and still nothing. It was maddening searching and searching and coming up short. Zoro could feel the rage building with the scream that clawed at his throat to be released. All the acidic fury willing to shake down the grove until, with one last turn, the fog seemed to release you from the curtain it’d placed on you. 

One minute the only thing in the entrance to the grove was fog. In the next breath, it dissipated, and standing there was you in the dress you’d worn at Kaya’s birthday dinner. The same dress he remembered seeing you walk down the stairs in and realizing that he was fucked. 

Zoro sheathed his swords as he called out your name. Your real name and waited for you to turn. To give him some form of acknowledgment that you’d heard him, but you were still glancing around as if you appeared lost. It wasn’t until Zoro took a step forward that the scene flew past him and changed like the reel of a film caught on fast forward. 

He thought he was going to be sick until it stopped and he was standing in front of mixed drinks. The same mixed drinks with delicate slices of orange peels floating inside champagne that were at Kaya’s manor. Zoro was still holding one in his hands when he heard the sound of someone descending the stairs. He didn’t need to look up to know it was you; he could recall this moment from the depths of his memory with ease. 

His eyes traveled up to watch you, nonetheless, until you stepped off the last step. You weren’t looking at him and he vaguely remembered being thankful for small blessings. 

I don’t want to know what life is like without you. 

Again, he could hear your words fresh, as if you’d just spoken them. Your eyes were full of pleading and he could hear the hope but also the sheer pain it took to tell him how you felt. All he wanted to do was tell you his own truth. He may have crawled inside your bones, but he’d equally found a home inside you. One that would surely drown him like the sea. 

As Zoro watched you move around the room he wanted to rush towards you and take your hand. He wanted to give you his own answer in reply - his real one - before his own uncertainty clamored back to take control. He upended the glass in one large swallow and set it back on the tray. His hand itched for him to grab another but he ignored it. 

Zoro still needed to grab his swords before he moved but-

If he wasn’t already on edge he would’ve been aware that you were walking towards him. Zoro wish he would’ve been more aware that you stopped, so when he turned, sword belt in hand, he wouldn’t have jumped out of his skin like he did. A ripple of irritation lit under his skin that you’d gotten him with something so small. 

“You enjoy sneaking up on people?”

“No. Just you.” 

Your smile was devious and practically sinful the way it curled your lips. It was a smile Zoro saw you give him only a few times, but each time it lit a fire in his blood that made you impossible to ignore. 

It all compounded when you placed a hand on his chest and took a step closer. Zoro remembered the way your hair looked - remembered even more the way the delicate straps of your dress hung low on your shoulders. How exposed you seemed to him at this angle. 

He’d never wanted to kiss someone more. 

Zoro was jolted out of his thoughts by a slap to his chest. His own hand seeking out to find what did it only to have you pulling your hand back to you. The other held a bottle as you motioned for him to follow. 

This wasn’t how this night went…

Maybe it wasn’t but Zoro was past caring. Not when you summoned him to follow you, and he recklessly did so, not caring about the possibility of being burned by his own desires. 

With his swords over his shoulder, he fell into step behind you as you weaved your way around doorways until you came back out to the garden. Zoro was about to ask where you were leading him - if he should be worried if dream you held any animosity for what he’d said - when you came to a halt at the foot of a statue carved out of marble. 

There was no doubt after the chain of events from that evening changed, that Zoro knew this was a dream. Dream or not, he liked this change. 

You found the spot you wanted between the hedges of roses and grass. The ugly ass marble statue a few feet in front of the both of you as he came to sit with you. The both of you waited until the other was settled before you popped open the bottle and took a long pull and set it down between your bodies.

Zoro didn’t hesitate to grab the bottle to take his own drink. Or a few. If he was going to talk about feelings, he was really going to need this drink. 

“So,” he croaked out before he took a drink. “This is a dream, isn’t it.” 

“Yup,” you replied, popping the p. 

“I have a hard time believing that. I don’t dream.” 

Zoro was in the middle of taking another drink from the bottle when your next words almost caused him to choke. 

“You do when you’re dying.” He glanced over at you then. The way you leaned back into your hands with your head tipped up at the sky watching the stars. It was almost believable you didn’t just tell him he was dying. “They say we usually see our lives flash before our eyes or see our regrets.” You looked him dead in the eye and asked, “What is it you’re regretting about me?”

“I don’t regret anything.” 

The words blurted out of him before he could stop them. He was still trying to process what you said. His own brain wondered if he was already dead or-

“You’re not dead yet,” you huffed. “And obviously you regret something with me or else I wouldn’t be here.”

You reached over and snatched the champagne from his hands and he watched as you brought the bottle to your lips and drank. 

“For being a dream, you sure do sound like the real thing.”

“And what does the real thing sound like?”

“A pain in my ass.”

God, even your laugh sounded perfect in his head. The way your head dipped ever so slightly back; how the throaty sound filled the space causing him to smile into his next drink. What he would give to listen to you laugh like that again.

After the lip of the bottle fell away from his mouth, he set it back between the two of you and looked out over the garden. Zoro really hated that statute. 

“So, I’m dying?”

The words formed in his mouth but felt wrong as he spoke them. Unable to believe that such a thing was even possible until flashes of his fight with Mihawk came back like a bitter aftertaste. The way he left things between the both of you before he walked out that door. 

I want to take it all back…

“Yes. Only if you want to be.”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed in on your position and felt a scowl begin to crease his brow. 

“Who would want to be dying?”

“Obviously, no one, but you have a choice. You’re teetering between life and death, and only you know how to get out of it.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

A light shrug raised your shoulders while your gaze stayed upwards towards the stars. 

“This is something you need to figure out on your own, Roronoa Zoro.”

               Come and save me

His heart slammed against his ribs as the air caught in his lungs. It was you he’d been hearing all along in his head, but the you in front of him wasn’t speaking. No. You looked every bit as ethereal as you did that night lying out in the garden with the moon cascading down around you. 

This was a perfect impression of you, but it wasn’t you. Not the you Zoro found himself drawn to no matter how much he tried to fight it. Somewhere out in the real world, outside of his head, you were calling to him. A noticeable desperation in your words as you called to him to come and find you. 

Something was wrong. Something was happening while he was here and-

“Zoro?” 

The sound of your voice beside him forced him out of his thoughts. The worry was still there wiggling like a worm in his mind, but when he turned his head, Zoro expected to find you different. Maybe in that not-so-awful outfit that he wanted to hate Nami for putting you in. Instead, you were still in that dress with your hair filled with pearls, and your eyes looking up at him as you now rested back on your elbows. 

You were breathtaking. 

“Why am I in this?”

“What?”

It seemed such a strange question to ask and his response wasn’t much better. Zoro was still trying to think past the adrenaline thrumming through his muscles causing him to find the hilt of a sword for comfort. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had missed something, and trying to think past it was maddening. 

“Out of every memory you have of me, why did you pick this one?”

It was true, wasn’t it? This was his head. He got to choose where you were and what you were doing and out of it all…

“It’s the first time I felt something when I looked at you.” 

The answer was so simple and looking at you now he knew it was true. 

“And now?”

The truth? This was a dream - a part of his head. So, why was it so hard to say? He reached out for the bottle and immediately took a long drink from it. Once he finished, he kept a hold of it in his hand. The coolness of the bottle gave him comfort as his eyes looked back over at you. 

“Now? Now I feel it all the time.”

It was easier to tell dream you this. If he needed to say this out loud to real you, Zoro wasn’t sure if he would make it. Somewhere along the way you’d become a part of his dream and intertwined the two together. While he wanted to be the world’s greatest swordsman, he also wanted you. There couldn’t be one without the other. 

Without giving it much thought, Zoro slowly reached his hand out to cup your face in his hand. It was something he’d wanted to do for days, but the fear of being rejected - of what it would mean to the promise he made -  kept him immobile. But this was a dream - his dream - and there couldn’t be any danger to giving in just this once. 

You pressed your cheek against his palm and he felt his other hand that was still painfully wrapped around the bottle tighten. All the self-control he struggled to keep ebbed away at the feeling of your lips pressing against his wrist. He could feel his pulse thundering on his own, and he wondered if you could feel it too, rushing against your lips.

In a split second Zoro made his mind up. He was going to kiss you; consciences be damned. He would deal with his promises and dreams afterward, but he needed this. He couldn’t go a second longer not knowing what you tasted like and if you wanted this as much as he did. If you felt as complete when he was with you. 

Just as he leaned in, you stopped him with a hand on his chest. Confusion clouded his face as he struggled to find a reason for you to do this when you said, “Come and save me, Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro. I’ll be waiting.” 

One minute Zoro was with you lying in the grass of Kaya’s garden and the next his eyes were fluttering open inside Nami’s room. His body gave a painful jolt that left him grimacing with his nostrils flaring as he tried to breathe past the pain. His eyes weren’t ready to adjust to the sun just yet so he closed them. He preferred this better because it gave him time to think. 

Zoro noticed when he’d looked briefly around the room that you weren’t in it. No one was. So…how the hell was he hearing your voice? Words you’d spoken to him on repeat like the start of a bad adventure. He could vaguely recall other voices. One that sounded a lot like Nami, but not the Nami he knew. This Nami sounded broken and unsteady on her feet and less like the quick-witted and strong one he’d grown to know. 

You said it yourself. You don’t have any friends.

That was the last thing he’d told her. The last thing he’d told either of them hadn’t been that great. Zoro spoke out of anger and his own form of hurt. He wasn’t sure if either of you just didn’t believe he could do it, or if you were both just scared, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. 

Nami and you were never one to say what you thought others wanted to hear. You would both be honest even if it hurt.

He was still trying to figure it out, to think past the growing pain in his chest, when the sound of light footsteps entered the room. The footsteps slowly came closer until he felt someone hop on the bed. Zoro didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was Luffy, except that the usual chaotic energy that he carried seemed dimmed. Zoro wanted to ask him what was wrong, but another sharp pain in his chest suggested he sit that idea to the side for a few minutes longer. 

“Hey, Zoro. You sure missed a big fight. Those fishmen guys were tough. You would’ve loved it.” 

The idea he missed a fight imploded something molten and sinister inside his chest. Zoro did love a good fight. There was no denying the ache that tinged his muscles and rang through his hands to grip the hilt of a sword and slash mercilessly through the air. 

But Zoro noticed something else besides his own bloodlust for battle. Luffy’s energy was missing but so was the usual happiness in his tone. 

“And we had a pretty great dinner. All of us sitting around together, listening to Usopp’s stories. Only I kinda messed it up.”

There it was. The pitch dip that indicated to Zoro something major happened while he’d been out for - how long? How long had they been sitting here still at Baratie while he healed? 

“And now I lost Nami and Doc. I lost the Grand Line map. And maybe I will lose you too. I didn’t know what to say before but I know what to say now, and it’s so simple.” Luffy took in a deep breath and as he exhaled he spoke, “I need you, Zoro. I need you to wake up.” 

Well, now seemed as good a time as any to make his presence known. 

“You gonna keep talking, or let me get some sleep?”

His voice felt rough like sandpaper. His words dry and hoarse, but hey, at least he was speaking. Within seconds the bed moved in that frantic way Zoro knew he was in trouble, as Luffy jumped to straddle him. 

“Zoro? Zorooooooooo!”

Zoro couldn’t help it. He flinched. Luffy was screaming at warp speed into his face and he worried his eardrums were going to burst. 

“Zoro, you’re not dead!”

Without a second thought, Luffy dropped all his weight down onto his chest and immediately all the affection he had for his captain flew out the window. The pain was excruciating and I’d he had the strength he would’ve flipped Luffy off him. 

Where the hell was Doc when he needed you? 

“Right now…I’m wishing…I was.” 

The minute Luffy lifted himself up from his chest, Zoro took in a greedy breath and tried to ignore the searing pain. He really hoped you were around to give him something for the aforementioned pain. 

While he lay there, words that sounded like Nami fluttered in and out of his mind. It replayed it over and over until it converged with yours. Maybe he’d dreamed of both of you talking to him. Maybe none of it was real, but he wasn’t going to share the dream with you in it. That felt too…personal. Nami felt safer. 

“I had the strangest dream that Nami left.” 

“She did.” 

Zoro was in the middle of trying to fix his head on the pillow when the words hit him. A spark of dread blossomed in his chest. If Nami’s was real then…

Slowly, Zoro opened his eyes to the room and prayed they didn’t show the rising tide of panic. 

“It’s my fault.” 

Luffy sounded defeated. Ready to give up, and Zoro couldn’t have that, especially when Luffy believed in him when he needed it the most. Gently he shook his head in protest and said, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You acted like a captain.”

“But our crew is falling apart.” 

In a moment of clarity, Zoro knew what Luffy needed. He needed to know someone believed in him, just like he’d believed in Zoro when he needed it most. 

“No, it’s not. I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Until we find the One Piece or die trying. So bring on the Marines or pirates or sea beasts. You’re my captain, Luffy, and I’m your first mate.” 

Zoro placed a fist over Luffy’s chest and wasn’t surprised that Luffy covered it with a hand of his own. A smile of gratitude brought to life his usual mirth that made him sunshine in human form. It wasn’t enough to completely brighten him, but it would do for now. 

He could hear approaching footsteps coming at lightning speed and, for a brief moment, he thought it would be you. God, he had so much he needed to tell you. He tried not to let the soft tilt of his lips disappear when Usopp came shouting his name through the doorway. His body collided with the bed making it move just enough to remind Zoro he wasn’t at a hundred percent, yet. 

“Zoro! I wasn’t worried for a second.” 

Usopp tried to reign in his happiness to look calm, but Zoro was glad to see it. 

“He’s alive!”

He hadn’t calculated for Luffy to jolt his arm up like they’d just won some kind of battle. But fucking hell if it didn’t make Zoro’s stomach immediately roll with nausea as the pain became electric. 

Zoro couldn’t keep a groan from leaving him and instantly Luffy dropped his arm back down. He was situating himself again when he felt something inside his right palm. Zoro’s curiosity peaked, but he would wait to see it.

“And I told’em. I said, ‘You better not mess with the Straw Hats!’”

“Yeah!”

“Ba! Ba!”

A genuine smile curved his lips as Zoro watched Usopp pretend to fight off the fishmen. His arms flew at odd angles to hint at Karate before he slid back over to the bed. The sound of him cooling down and turning off is what made Zoro chuckle the most. 

“I sent them swimming for their lives.”

“You scared’em off, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“The Great Captain Usopp.” He waited to settle back into the pillow, his fingers now playing with the piece of paper that’d been placed in his palm. “Where’s Doc?”

At the mention of you, the whole room seemed to stop. Only the playfulness that had been built completely erased and was replaced by a heaviness that made it hard to swallow. 

“Zoro, Doc she…”

“She what?”

He didn’t know why the words came out as harsh as they did. They felt like an extension of his swords. Sharp and violent. 

“Arlong, the leader of the Arlong Pirates, was going to drown Luffy. Doc…she - she gave herself up to save Luffy.”

Come and save me, Pirate Hunter…

No. The word thundered through his skull. His fist clenched until he could feel the corners of the paper pressing painfully into the skin of his palm. He couldn’t believe it. 

You were gone. And what he’d heard in his dream wasn’t made up. That was the last thing you’d said to him before you’d bounded off in servitude to some other crew. 

“What do you mean, ‘gave herself up’?”

“She joined their crew, Zoro. She’s gone.” 

No. He wanted to shout it. To break the room apart and send the Merry into the depths of the sea. His rage was choking - toxic - and he had no way to articulate it further. He wanted to shout at them; to ask why they didn't try and stop you, but he already knew. There wasn’t any stopping you when you thought you were doing the right thing. 

He’d called you a liability once and he’d meant it. Because now the only liability you’d become is his own. 

“So,” Usopp’s voice cut across the tension. “What do we do now? Plot a course for the Grand Line?”

“Nope.” 

“But I thought we were going after the One Piece?”

“We are. But we can’t do it without our whole crew. First, we have to go get Doc and Nami.” 

Zoro needed to get out of this room so he could think. First, he needed a shower. Second, he needed some sun. 

———————

Conomi Islands.

It wasn’t what you expected.

While you’d come from the Gecko Islands where businesses ruled with their abundance of shipyards and armories. So far from what you’d seen as you walked the path to Arlong Park was a sea of tangerine groves. All the villages were modest in stature. 

This was farming land. Land meant to be owned by the men and women who worked to keep her trees growing and soil healthy. And she repaid their devotion in kind with wave upon wave of orange. 

You imagined before Arlong there’d been life to the villages you passed. The clothes people wore weren’t torn with excessive wear and color bleed dry from the fabric. You imagined the children actually ran and played instead of hiding behind the safety of objects or people; little eyes watching you every move. 

It broke your heart to see their looks of hatred and sadness. The desperation clawed at their features until it showcased the worry that you were just another bad guy who came to strip them of whatever life they had left.  

You noticed immediately that some of them were malnourished. The painful way the bones of one woman’s shoulder stuck out against the straps of her dress. The way you could easily count the bones in her sternum as she took a breath. An elderly man using a stick to move around a bandaged leg and you could bet it wasn’t properly being treated. 

You didn’t realize your body was moving towards him; helping others was as much a reflex as breathing. What stopped you was the tight grasp of Nami’s hand on your wrist pulling you back to fall in line. You whipped around to look at her and found only the stone-faced expression you’d come to expect. 

Nami dropped your wrist just as quickly as she’d grabbed it, and went back to facing forward. You tried to find a flare of anger to hold on to for her stopping you from helping, but realistically you knew she did it to protect you. 

If you’d moved out of line, moved to help that man or anyone else you saw, there was no doubt Arlong would make them suffer worse while you watched. He seemed like that kind of asshole. 

Once you made your way off the path through the groves, a large sukiya-style building loomed in the distance. It looked massive from what you could see, but as it grew closer it seemed to stretch farther and farther into the sky. It wasn’t until you were less than ten feet from it that you realized it was a compound. The outside walls were layers and layers of sand bricks and it wasn’t until Arlong shouted outside the large metal doors, that you began to be able to see inside. 

While the villages surrounding him crumbled into nothing, Arlong Park was literally an oasis. The inside was a paradise with a large pool with a rock slid off the side and a matching waterfall. Carnival games littered the sides with a bar sandwiched in between a ring toss game and a bag toss. 

Everything was lush and over-the-top and above all else, Arlong had a throne right in the middle of everything. There was no mistaking who was the ruler in this land and if you did, he would be sure to correct you. 

An ache began to grow and grow until it felt like a knife digging into your gut. Luffy would never willingly watch others suffer. He would never take until the land was stripped bare to the point even the soil was overworked with nothing left to give. 

You wanted to go home. You wanted-

A strong hand on your shoulder kept you from following Nami and it took every ounce of self-control you had left not to claw your way towards her. It was nice to see the flash of panic that sparked in her eyes before she smothered it down. 

No matter how much of a hard-ass Nami tried to be, you knew she cared. 

“Kuroobi, what are you doing?”

“Arlong wants her to go to the map room. She needs to get branded.”

“Branded?”

Your eyes flashed over to Nami’s bare arms, to the sword shark tattoo, and immediately tried to get out of Kuroobi’s grip. It didn’t matter if it was a futile attempt. 

“No way in hell am I letting you touch me with a needle!”

“Doc-“

Nami moved forward trying to - do what? You both knew she couldn’t stop them. Not when she wanted to continue to play the indifference card. 

“Don’t bother, Nami,” Kuroobi interjected. “You know this needs to be done.” 

“Well, I would like some backstory as to why this is needed. Don’t I get a say?”

“No. You don’t.” 

“Kuroobi-“

“Enough, Nami. I thought you said you didn’t care about these Straw Hats?”

For once, you didn’t care if she spit on your name. Kuroobi looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. She needed to be careful because if she ever gave away that she did see you as more than just another person, you were sure you would pay with your life. 

“I don’t. Just don’t get blood on my floor.” 

“What-“

With those parting words of Nami's, Kuroobi started walking towards the direction of the building. His entire hand wrapped around your arm as he dragged you practically behind him. You couldn’t keep the panic from boiling over as Nami’s words raced through your mind. What the hell did she mean by blood? You attempted to dig your feet into the ground, pry him off your arm, only to have him pull you so hard you thought he’d dislocated your arm. 

“Fight all you want, human. It’s not going to change the outcome.”

You gritted your teeth as you tried to keep from going over the lip that led to the walkway. You could see at the end of the walkway was another set of metal double doors, and once you were inside you knew there was no getting out. 

But you’d chosen this, hadn’t you? 

There were some things you expected when you signed up to work for Arlong. A shitty tattoo given like a marking of property wasn’t one of them. That’s what you knew it was. 

A joke. Something to mark ownership that you weren’t you anymore. You were a product to be used and discarded on a whim. You no longer belonged to yourself but to whoever marked their way into your skin. If you were going to let anyone mark you in any way, it was going to be a certain green-haired idiot recovering in Nami’s bedroom. Not anyone else and most definitely not a fishman indicating you as property. 

Just as Kuroobi went to open the door and push you inside, you kicked out landing your foot on the doorframe to knock you back. It startled him to where his grip loosened on your arm. It was enough to make you believe you could slip your arm out of his hand and make a run for it back to Nami. 

The fishman was faster than you gave him credit, however, and you ended up paying for that miscalculation. He pulled you back roughly by your arm, enough to dislodge your feet, before using your body to slam through the door. Kuroobi released your arm and your body went sailing through the air until it collided painfully with the stone floor.

To say the air was knocked out of your lungs would be an understatement. It was trapped there. Held captive in your lungs where they refused to move. All you could feel was the searing pain as the oxygen dissipated. Your arms and shoulders stung with unseen scraps from the force Kuroobi flung you into the room. The only reason you’d stopped rolling was by your back meeting a very unfortunately strong brick wall. 

You were struggling to right yourself on your hands and knees when he was just there. Large hands grabbed at your shoulders to hoist you to your feet. This time you didn’t have much fight in you to try and disobey his pushes as he directed you towards a set of spiral stairs. Kuroobi didn’t tell you to start climbing as much as he shoved you. 

If you were able to breathe, you were sure you would’ve said something petty, but damn if you weren’t shaken. You went up at least five flights of stairs until he stopped you and directed you to a set of metal doors that resembled the ones from outside. A latch to keep whoever locked in was already opened to allow him to shove you inside. 

There was light in this circular room, but just barely. It was enough to adjust the dimly lit room and you realized the only spot that held the natural light was in the center. A large table that was filled with drawing paper, and mapping paper, lay at the center. It was the only furniture in the room besides the small weaved baskets that held rolled-up parchments and papers. 

If you opened every single piece of paper in the dozens of baskets, would they all be maps?

The way everything was centered around that tilted desk, with the only light dedicated to that spot…you only knew one person who could draw maps from memory. Who carried books of atlases and maps like they were poetry. 

This is Nami’s room. 

For some reason, the realization didn’t make you feel better, it only made you feel worse. Part of that feeling came from your eyes landing on a shackle that was attached to a chain on the floor. This wasn’t something a willing member of anyone’s crew wore or needed to wear to make sure they stayed. 

If you weren’t forced down the small steps into the circle of the room, where the desk and its papers resided, you might have felt a little validated. Nami was as much a prisoner here as you were, and if it took you months or years you would find a way to get her out. 

You were kicked out of your thoughts by Kuroobi forcing you down to your knees. A growl sharp and acidic rose up in the back of your throat as you attempted to get back up. His hand kept you easily in place. 

“Let me be the first to formally welcome you into your exclusive membership of the Arlong Pirates.”

At the sound of his deep voice, your head shot up from the floor to find Arlong coming through the open doors. A sickly smile flashing rows of shark’s teeth to the soft glow of the light. Somehow, he looked more threatening here than he did back at Baratie. You would’ve been impressed if it didn’t mean you were the one stuck alone with him. 

“Thanks,” you bit out. “It doesn’t feel like much of a choice.” 

“You’re the one who made the deal, girl. I’m just the only one who accepted the terms.”

He made his way down the steps and circled his way to stand in front of you. All fishmen were born with the DNA of the sea within them. Mother Ocean placed pieces of her own children inside them, which is how each one of them was unique. You’d wished Mother Ocean had placed a scuttle fish inside him instead of a predator. 

“Yeah, an agreement for me to treat any of your sick fishmen and teach you how to make the medicine yourself. Not to be branded like a sea cow.”

This earned you another smile. Another long look in your direction before he finished walking the few inches to stand directly in front of you. 

“And we’ll get to that part of the deal. In due time.” 

“Then there is no deal,” you spit out. 

You were trying to be braver than you felt. You also knew the chance of diminishing your worth was a dangerous game. Arlong didn’t seem the least bit phased. In fact, he seemed very much in control. 

“The deal stands.” Arlong’s words were final. An end to a conversation that barely got started. “See, in this crew, the humans need to wear a symbol of their loyalty on their skin.”

“Can’t it just be a nice fashionable patch on a jacket? I hear patches are coming back in style-”

Kuroobi slammed a fist into your side and it crippled you down on the cool stone of the floor. You were still trying to retain your breath from earlier when Kuroobi had launched you through the doors. It didn’t take much for you to sound like a dying fish gasping for air. 

“You want me to have it placed somewhere fashionable?”

Arlong bent down to look at you, his obsidian eyes bleeding with sinister glee. “I hear tattoos on the back have become all the rage for women.” 

“Damn. Too bad my shirt is in the way. You could always put it on my middle finger.”

You raised it up just in case he needed a visual on where exactly you meant.

“Funny,” he spit. “You’ve got some guts in you. Looks like I’ll need to rip some out to make you tow the line.” 

“Good fucking luck with that.”

It wasn’t smart. You don’t know why you suddenly felt the need to have a death wish. You also knew looking into Arlong’s face - being inside Nami’s prison - you wanted to tear him apart. You didn’t want to go quietly anymore. Whether or not you made this choice willingly, you also willingly could agree Arlong could fuck right off. 

Arlong must have sensed the rebellion growing inside you. He didn’t appear threatened or worried. No, he simply grinned and showed his teeth as his eyes looked over your shoulder to Kuroobi. 

“Place our Jolly Rogers symbol on her shoulder. Make it large and proud.”

“I told you I’m not taking off my shirt.”

“We have other ways of getting to where we need.” 

Arlong nodded his head and within seconds you could feel Kuroobi’s hands on your back. One large, finned hand holding you face down towards the stone floor, while the other gripped your shirt and pulled. 

The sound of tearing cloth erupted in the room and your arms desperately scrambled behind you to try and knock his hand away. But the more you tried to reach for his hand, the more Kuroobi shoved your head closer to the stone. All the emotions you’d felt since you offered to go with Arlong to save Luffy had all been bottled away. You reminded yourself constantly,  over and over, that you chose to make this offer, and with all the anger and panic and fear that churned in the cauldron of your mind, you tried to silence it. 

You never planned on this. 

With one last violent tug from the fishman behind you, your shirt collapsed forward. The back was completely ripped away and left your back bare with the remains of what was left falling forward. Quickly, you moved your arms to cover your chest before it left your breasts exposed to the room. 

The weight of a scream pressed behind your teeth but your lips refused to part. You wouldn’t give Arlong the satisfaction of hearing anything. The only downside to this whole thing was your arms were crossed against your chest leaving your naked back exposed. 

You could vaguely hear Kuroobi moving behind you. His hands grabbed at objects you couldn’t see but that you knew was the placement of ink. The minimum amount of sunlight eclipsed into shadow as he towered at your back. 

This couldn’t be that bad. You tried to think of all the worst things you’d experienced. Splinters. Splinters in any shape or form sucked. Naan’s blood pudding. An experience that you could see being part of Dante’s seven layers of hell. 

….watching Mihawk slice Yuro into the chest of Zoro. 

You thought back to the last thing you told him. Whispering your words into the ear of a man who was tethered on the brink of life and death. A man who, for all you knew, was still in a coma fighting for his own life and you’d asked him to save you. 

As if you couldn’t save yourself. 

The first strike of the needle pierced through your skin. You had a lot of thoughts about what it might feel like, but none of it compared to what it really was. The way your skin fought against the needle's entrance and swarmed it once it violently shoved its way into your skin. With each new thrust, Kuroobi seemed to pierce it harder and harder. It was enough to make your teeth savagely dig into your bottom lip. That scream you’d trapped in your throat was building back up with every forceful shove from Kuroobi. 

Your eyes were trained on the stone floor and following the cracks like a river. You were desperately trying to steady your mind to find yourself somewhere else - somewhere safe - beyond this room. It was interrupted by the appearance of Arlong’s shoes stomping into view. You refused to look up at him and that disobedience was rewarded by his hands fisting in your hair and forcing you up to look at him. 

The saw of his nose cut across your cheek as he growled into your face. The bare teeth turned into a snarling smile as he painfully brought your head further back to expose your neck to the room.

The way animals expose their bellies to alphas. Arlong wasn’t a true alpha and he could expose your throat with force all he wanted, but he didn’t earn your respect and he never would. 

“A disobedient animal will always be brought to heel.”

You wanted to tell him where he could shove his obedience. You could feel the words forming until you saw him nod to Kuroobi behind you. The next stab of the needle went so deep you felt it touch your shoulder bone. The pain was instantaneous and finally ripped the scream loose.

That one stab into your skin sets the tone for the brutal pace of every next jab of the needle into your flesh. Each one harsher than the last and scraping fresh marks against your bone. All the while Arlong continued to hold you by your hair with your tear-streaked face forced to look up into his grinning one. 

“You think I don’t know what games you’re playing, girl? Your kind are the ones who made us sick! You give us diseases that run rampant amongst my people leaving you, our enslavers, the only ones to cure us.” 

Another stab of the needle and it tore the air from your lungs. You didn’t have enough to scream. Only a fresh tear slid down your cheek as you tried to look up into the blinding spot of the sun and were greeted by darkness. 

“I’ll make you pay for infecting my people. I’ll make you pay by bleeding every last bit of knowledge from your squishy human brain and maybe turn a profit from you. Maybe make you heal some blind folks,” he chortled, “or maybe have you keep lonely sailors company. You look pretty enough.” 

Arlong’s hatred of humans left him beyond angry. It left him without thought and reason to be dangerous. You weren’t even born when the enslavement of fishmen began; when their fear of the unknown turned them blindly into trying to own what they feared. You’d barely been born when they’d been freed, but it didn’t mean that some fishmen didn’t stay behind in the yard. Their entire life is made up of other men telling them when and how to work; to live. 

And yet, Arlong placed knowledge you gained from Naan to help and heal into something evil. Something potent with ill intent until the only thing left was meant only to cause harm. 

For the first time in your life, with blood trembling down your shoulder and tears streaking your face, you knew what it meant to hate. You knew what it meant to be consumed by the wildfires of rage and make them pay. You’d made a vow to never willingly harm another soul, but staring up into Arlong’s sinister smile you knew you would gladly make an exception. 

Maybe that was when your soul fractured. The darkness you’d felt on your knees at the dock as you watched Zoro fight Mihawk edged at your vision. The weightlessness of an emptiness that threatened to consume you and leave you cold. You could feel it building and building - sweet whispers and images of you being free from this place as long as you simply gave in. 

Whatever you do child, when you hear that little voice telling you to let go: don’t. You fight it. 

You wondered if this was the voice Naan warned you about. The one she’d brought up as she cleaned up the blood that crusted at your nostrils and added to your busted lip. 

You were six. The older kids cornered you down by the wharf and tried to send you “back where you came from.”  You’d been so scared and even now could remember the way your lungs burned as you sucked in water. Your tiny fingers clawed the sand as they held you under not realizing you were drowning. Or maybe they did. Maybe - just like Arlong - they were so full of hatred that they couldn’t see past their own biases, their own fear, that all they cared about was getting rid of something unknown. 

And just like you’d felt that darkness welling up inside you as that frightened little girl pleading to the universe for help, the darkness answered, and it bled into your vision. 

You were chaos in motion.

This time when you screamed you let all the fear, the rage, your own venomous alienation and hatred that brewed in the recesses of your body; boiling under the blood and bones. This time when you inhaled, your lungs filled every available inch with air and when you released it you felt the world begin to tremble at your feet. 

—————————-

A warm hand on your bare back startled you off the floor. Instinctively, an arm rushed up to press what little of your shirt remained. You expected to see Arlong’s smug face in front of you and sighed in relief when instead it was Nami. 

She looked worried as she took in your present state. The hand she’d placed on your back still hovering where you’d been but not moving. Big blue eyes watched you carefully while she assessed you. Your own eyes looked down to her hand and found, what you hoped, was a shirt. 

“Please tell me that shirt is for me?”

Gods, it sounded like you’d been gargling glass. You could taste the faintest hint of copper on your tongue. An old wound made fresh the minute you opened your mouth to talk. Speaking of wounds… 

Everywhere hurt. The whole left side of your body felt like it had been flayed open and salt was poured in. You were aware of the dried blood that had left behind a thick flaking crust of rust and your face… your right side was sore. Your eye socket swelling with every passing minute. You couldn’t recall being struck in the face, but it would explain you waking up on the cold floor. 

As if remembering she held the shirt in her hand, Nami looked down at the item in question before she extended her hand out towards you. She looked relieved to see you but…also afraid. You just couldn’t figure out if it was for you or because of you. 

“Are you alright?” She let out in a rush. “You’ve been out for quite a while and I didn’t know-“

Didn’t know if you were dead. 

Those were the unspoken words Nami didn’t have the courage to speak out loud into the universe. Like it was a curse that could change its mind at any minute. You gently moved to sit better on the floor and found the same shackle now cuffed on your ankle. 

Nami’s eyes followed yours to the chain that slithered around the floor as you moved to be as comfortable as you could. It wasn’t hard to notice her own disdain at seeing it again. 

“They placed it on you when they thought you might make a run for it. And also after what happened.”

“What did happen, Nami?”

You took the shirt from her but made no move to put it on. This was the most vulnerable you’d seen Nami since you’d both left that day from the Baratie, and you couldn’t let it go to waste. Not when the chances of her putting her walls back up were so high. You knew it was this room that was making her crumble. Plus, you were willing to bet you looked not the greatest at the moment. 

Nami swallowed hard before she answered, “I don’t know. Arlong nor Kuroobi would talk to anyone when they left. They just told no one to go in - said the structure was unsafe.”

“Well, that was certainly more cryptic than I would’ve wanted in an answer.”

Your last words hissed through your teeth as you gritted against a wave of sharp pain from your shoulder. It set off a landslide effect, because the minute you winched at the pain your entire face lit up. 

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“I never said you weren’t, Nami. My stance on you hasn’t changed.”

Nami looked away from you as she moved to stand with her fists noticeably tight. She looked ready to break at any second, and that’s why you could understand her turning to leave. She’d come to do what you suspected was her only real reason to come. You were alive. She gave you a shirt and that was all you needed. Everything else would heal, eventually.

She’d made it halfway out of the circle, her feet stopping on the last step before she turned sharp to look at you. You’d started trying to peel your ruined shirt off and stopped part of the way. Your eyes met hers as they started to shatter. 

“Why did you even come? Why did you do this when you knew something like this could happen to you?”

It dawned on you within seconds that Nami was blaming herself. She couldn’t stand to look at you because you represented a mistake on her part. Something that was breaking whatever facade she created to survive. 

You didn’t know when Nami had been brought to this room. If this chain you were now attached to began with her, and it did…she wasn’t the adult she was now. Whatever pain Nami held was her own right, but your choices weren’t her responsibility. 

“I came because you are my friend, Nami. I don’t know why you are doing the things you are. I’m sure you have your reasons and, when you’re ready, I’ll hear them. You’ve been alone for a long time. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” 

You watched as she took each of your words. The way she tried to remain unmoving at the weight of them and what they meant. She took in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. 

“Zoro’s going to be pissed when he sees you like this.”

A snort of laughter escaped you and it was followed by instant regret. You were going to need medicine for your face before it swelled your eyes shut. 

“Yeah, like he’s ever going to see me like this.”

——————

It turns out going out for some sun was a terrible idea. 

It wasn’t helping clear his head in the slightest. It was usually one of the things he enjoyed the most - finding a good spot, like this one on a crate in front of the main mast. The sun pouring down directly on him warmed him down to his toes, except no matter which angle he turned, Zoro still felt cold. 

A weight had begun to bury itself deep inside his chest. One that aches along with the wound on his chest. A wound that you should’ve been there to examine as soon as he’d woken up with words that chastised him as much as teased. And yet…

Zoro found the bottle of antibiotics you’d made for him. His hand snatched it off the top of the long shelf as he examined it. The note you’d left embedded in his palm clenched in the other. He could still recall how loud the shattering of the glass sounded when he launched it across the room. His chest lit up in fresh waves of pain, but he didn’t give a shit. The anger he felt was white hot and molten and underneath all of that fury was a grief he hadn’t felt since he was twelve.  

      Things you owe me once you wake up: 1. Find me 2. Save me 3. After you save me - Apologize  4. Apologize. Again 5. Groval

Who the hell did you think you were asking him to apologize? And to apologize after you decided to go with Arlong was the best option. It should’ve never been an option in the first place. Zoro wanted to throttle you. To grab you by your arms and shake you to try and understand what in the hell were you thinking? He wanted to find you and lock you inside your room to make sure you couldn’t make any more stupid decisions. He wanted to lock himself inside your room and make you apologize to him. 

He also wanted to write you off the way Nami wrote them off. To forget you both because his logic told him you’d both made your choice but…Zoro always knew you would do whatever it took to save those around you, even if it meant putting your own life at risk. 

It was idiotic. You were idiotic and while he could practically hear you chastising him about being cynical - that everyone deserved saving - it didn’t mean if it cost you your life. Being a good person wasn’t stacked up with how many times you risked your life for someone else. Sometimes, the hardest choices came from choosing yourself and the good you could still do for the world if you were in it. 

Not everyone was your responsibility to save. 

“Yes, we do!”

Luffy’s joyous shout thankfully saved Zoro from having to think about it anymore. His fingers let go of your note as his eyes opened up to see an incredibly unwelcome sight entering his captain’s ship. 

“Why are we bringing the waiter?”

“Because we can’t boil water.” 

Usopp’s answer didn’t help him feel any more at ease. A few moments later he called out that he was dropping the sail. 

Zoro removed himself from his spot and found his way over to the stairs. His body slowly made a climb that felt like his stitches were getting ripped open with every movement of his limbs. He was ready to set sail and to be away from this place.

Baratie turned out to be more of a pain in the ass than the food was worth. And now they were stuck with the waiter. 

Soon, the breeze from the ocean swept across the ship, and immediately Zoro felt more at ease. Whether it was because they were finally sailing or it was because it meant he was getting closer to finding you, Zoro would never be sure. Or admit to that last one even if it was true. 

He could hear Usopp’s feet as he dashed across the deck checking on the masts lines and hitches. He’d finished checking the one behind him next to the sheep’s head when he called out, “So, we’re going after Nami and Doc, but how are we going to find them?” 

“Yeah, we don’t even know where she is.”

It was a thought that plagued him the minute Luffy mentioned his plan. He didn’t want to be the one to burst his bubble that without coordinates they wouldn’t be going after anybody. Luffy didn’t seem the least bit phased as he smiled down at all of them. 

“I know someone who does.”

With those parting words, Luffy moved down the stairs and into the galley. Usopp moved past him and Zoro reached out to grab the railing to help him to his feet. He should’ve never sat down. Slowly he made his way into the galley where Luffy was waiting for them with a black bag centered on the table. 

Zoro’s hand skimmed along the large island to help hold him up, as he moved but stopped short as Luffy revealed what was inside the bag. 

“Hello, boys!”

Of course, it was the fucking clown. 

________

As always, thank you so much for reading. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated.

________

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