Chaos In Their Bones Ch. 9

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 9

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 Fem!Reader

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

Words: 22.8k

A/N:  Man. This chapter has been a long time coming. It feels bittersweet to be posting it. While I know it is not truly the end of Zoro and Doc’s story (there are still chapter 10 & 11 to write and a one-shot. Not to mention season 2) it still feels like this has some finality to it. It was unexpected how much I grew to love OPLA even more through writing these characters and introducing Doc. This chapter is incredibly dark at times, so please be warned, but I promise chapter 10 is the tiddy chapter and will not be so heavy. And as always: Thank You. To every single one of you who continues to wait. Who loves this story and these characters as much as I do. For always being so kind and loving my story the way you all do. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. Here’s to many more adventures together 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Warnings: mentions of torture, intense violence, blood, use of OPLA dialogue, swearing 

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He felt sick. 

The sickness festered and rotted under his skin until it threatened to take hold of him and send him in a blind rage searching for any trace of you. Every minute Zoro knew you weren’t next to him meant you were somewhere you shouldn’t be - somewhere you never should have been. 

He’d been outside meditating in the spot you’d found him in when you’d first come thrashing through the tangerine grove. This time, at the sound of feet slamming frantically into the dirt, it wasn’t you who Luffy found on their knees crying out with hatred. Screaming the name of a fishman who’d held you captive, tried to break your spirit, and failed. 

It was bad enough imagining the things he’d done to you. Seeing what Arlong had done. After you shared what you’d learned from Nami…Zoro wanted to gut the fucking fish himself. His hands shook with the desire to cut him from throat to navel. To claim his bounty in pieces. 

If Nami was here that meant she couldn’t be meeting you. It meant the information you’d told him as you’d cleaned his stitches and put on a clean dressing was pointless. 

Fucking pointless. 

Nami was here and you weren’t, which meant you could only be in one other place.

The muffled sound of voices rose up in a chorus around the table. The high pitch that signified Nami had resumed talking; her octave rising higher to signify she thought no one was listening. It would be true for him. Ever since his eyes caught sight of the explosion of flames that licked up towards the night a weightless panic gripped him. 

For the first time in his life, Zoro knew what it meant to be infected with the sickness of fear. He’d witness it drain the color from the faces of the pirates he hunted. The way it flashed across their eyes the same way the cool steel of his swords drew across their vision. 

Fear was a concept Zoro wasn’t accustomed to. Even when he lost repeatedly in the dojo to Kuina, it wasn’t fear that drove him, but anger. Determination to prove himself. 

“You really don’t fear death, do you?”

“No. I just don’t fear you.”

Zoro didn’t fear death or, at least, he hadn’t before. It wasn’t until he saw you standing at the edge of the ramp to the Merry that he felt uncertainty creep in his chest. Zoro didn’t fear death, but he feared not knowing what living with you by his side felt like; wrapped up in every moment. Laying on that dock, he’d been overcome with emotions. Zoro had failed not only for himself but also for Kuina. The knowledge of that failure sparked a determination so vicious to do better -be better - that he needed Luffy to hear the vow that he wouldn’t fail. 

Not again. Not ever. 

Silently, Zoro made another promise. He wouldn’t fail again - couldn’t fail again. Not when he could lose you, because the last memory Zoro held of you before his vision was swept up into darkness was your collapsed body on the dock. The fire in your eyes that he loves so much was replaced with something broken. Something he gave you. 

Zoro didn’t know fear until the day he went to sleep without ever knowing if he’d wake up to see you again. He didn’t know fear until he woke up to find you were gone from the Merry, and Zoro didn’t know that paralyzing type of fear until he watched you disappear behind a grove of tangerines. 

His body was sick with fear and the only way Zoro knew how to combat it was to turn it into unrestrained violence. 

His muscles - his very heart - filled with a tumultuous rage that felt like a borderline sickness. Zoro’s hand was clenched tightly around the Wado Ichimonji in hopes it would keep him grounded. That it would somehow be enough to keep him from running out of Nojiko’s front door to Coco Village and getting his hands on the first fishman he could find. 

A fishman’s skin was known to be tougher than bullets. Zoro was tougher than lead and stronger than a trigger releasing on a gun. He’d honed his body - hell his teeth - to withstand hundreds of pounds and keep the Wado held tightly in his jaws. 

The skin of a fishman didn’t stand a chance against the wrath of a demon.  

The sounds of an active slaughter rose up around them. The screams from the villagers were deafening, but all Zoro could hear was the turbulent thoughts that thrashed around in his head. 

He should’ve forced you to stay. He should’ve grabbed you and thrown you over his shoulder and taken you back to the Merry or tied you up to wait inside the hut. He should’ve tried to coax you into staying with his mouth reclaiming yours to remind you who you belonged to. 

The world was made up of so many should haves and yet, in the end, none of them mattered. In the end, Zoro was back inside Nojiko’s hut, his hands splayed out against the table they’d just had their dinner served on, while Nami drew out a plan. 

Zoro was fucking sick of plans.

He wasn’t aware that he’d grabbed the Wado Ichimonji off the table. He didn’t know he was moving towards the entrance of Nojiko’s home until he felt a light hand on his shoulder to stop him. Zoro didn’t need to look to know whose hand was stopping him - keeping him from moving forward. His body did it on reflex, as his jaw ground his teeth so tightly together, he was sure they were going to crack.  

Zoro wasn’t surprised to find Luffy there. His own eyes darkened with fury, but it wasn’t real. Not like the brimstone that gnashed its hellish teeth from the rage that broiled under his skin. It grew until the flames consumed him as they rose up higher inside him. Zoro could see under all that stoic optimism Luffy fought to keep that he was terrified of what they would find. 

“It’s almost dawn,” Luffy’s words were laced with caution. The kind used to defuse bombs or attempt to neutralize wild animals just before they attacked. “The minute the sun breaches over that sky, I swear to you, we will go get her.”

Zoro knew Luffy meant it and, in this moment, Zoro never appreciated Luffy more. Luffy could see that he was drowning - struggling to stay sane - and he tried to give Zoro a raft of hope to grasp. 

The only thing that would make him feel better was your body tucked safely against his. 

While he may have been filled with trepidation, Luffy wasn’t going to let it stop him from pressing forward. You were a part of his crew. Luffy wouldn’t abandon you, but Zoro knew the longer that you were left alone inside that compound the chances of them finding you alive, and not a body, was narrowing down closer to zero than he’d like to think about. 

“She doesn’t have that long.”

He hated how his voice broke at the end. What he hated more? All that unadulterated rage that was brewing inside him was leaking out. It made his body shake and eyes blur and he knew that if he walked into Arlong Park and found you more bruised, more…more broken than when you left him - not even the gods themselves would survive. 

“Arlong won’t kill her,” Nami spoke up. Her voice was a whisper that carried like a scream in the quiet of the hut. “She’s meant to be a warning…and a punishment.” 

“A punishment for who?”

“For me.”

Zoro knew his gaze wasn’t the friendliest. He knew that looking at Nami - all that hatred he felt for the fishmen was displayed on his face and directed solely at her. She didn’t waiver from his gaze, but accepted it, and Zoro wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. He got his answer when those two words collided in his chest and tore through. 

Nami was broken. 

She blamed herself for the predicament you were in. While Zoro wanted to agree and to let all the fury out on her but, realistically, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Luffy’s or anyone’s. You came here to save Luffy - to save Nami - in your own way. 

Maybe it was his fault. Only a few hours ago you’d been here with him inside Nojiko’s hut. His body stood in the exact place he’d finally silenced all his doubts, every racing thought, by chasing the calm of your lips. 

He could still feel your touch on his chest like a vengeful ghost. Your eyes staring up at him and lost to the current of your own thoughts. It reminded him of his own and all it took was for one moment - one second - to decide to place his lips against yours for everything to make sense. 

All the thoughts, dreams, and promises had all been stripped away. The only thing left in that moment was him and you and the feeling of calm that washed over him. A new wave he’d never experienced rolled through him and it was one he’d only heard of. Never did he dream he would experience it - want to - and yet he knew what it was once the calmness ceased and a fire burned hot in his belly. 

Passion. 

He’d heard how it consumed men and women and made them slaves to their most carnal desires. It slithered inside until it constricted all reason until the only thing left was to answer. There was no more denying that you were his desire. The consuming flame that slithered and constricted his veins until the only call he heard - the only one he wanted to answer - was you. 

The minute he’d claimed your lips as his, Zoro knew he wanted nothing else - no one else - for the rest of his life. You were just as much a part of his purpose as his life-long dream to be the greatest swordsman who ever lived. 

How could it be that he’d experienced his first real kiss only for the possibility of it being his last? Zoro would be damned if that would happen. He should’ve kissed you again. He should’ve thrown that fucking clown outside and resumed where he’d interrupted but this time picking you up to seat you on the table. Zoro wanted to feel your legs wrapped around him, pulling him in closer, while his hand worked its way back into your hair and your hip.

Maybe if he’d done that, you’d be inside the hut. You’d be here after Luffy found Nami colliding into the dirt. 

“He’s not hurting her, is he?”

Zoro’s gaze flew to look in the corner where Usopp had taken up residence. His arms rested on his legs as he stared down into the floorboards. It’s where he’d shut down and refused to look up from the hole his eyes were digging into the floor. No one was willing to comment on the silent tears that dotted the old wood. 

“That can’t be a serious question, mate.”

Even though the waiter’s tone was gentle it wasn’t hard to miss the disbelief.

“And what if it is?” Usopp challenged. “We all saw how she looked the last time we saw her and now she’s back there. Alone. It isn’t too much to hope that they’re just holding here there. Maybe tied up somewhere-“

“That isn’t how Arlong does things,” Nami cut in.

“You don’t know that!”

“Oh, I don’t?” Nami shot back. Her body now removed and standing from where she’d been sitting. “I know Arlong better than any of you. I know exactly what he is capable of, and I can promise you he doesn’t do simple.”

“Then why aren’t we going now?” Usopp practically shouted, his eyes wide with bewilderment. 

“That’s what I’ve been wondering this whole time,” Zoro mumbled. 

“I’ve told you both already, it is too risky for the villagers. All it takes is for one of his men to get back to him that we interrupted them, and they are all as good as dead. And so is she.” 

Zoro’s hand flexed around the Wado as the last of Nami’s words sunk in. The silence hung heavy and draped the room once more with the unmistakable feeling of dread. The unknown in these next final hours was too much to bear. 

“I think it’s a risk we have to take.”

“Usopp,” Nami started with a groan. 

Her arms dropped from where she’d held them crossed against her chest.

“No!” 

Zoro never heard Usopp shout. At least, not when it wasn’t out of fear but this…was raw emotion. It’d launched him out of his corner and back into the room completing the small circle of bodies. No longer did he try to hide the tears he’d shed or the desperation in his voice. 

“Doc is my best friend-“

“She’s our friend too, Usopp,” Luffy attempted to defuse him, but it only seemed to make it worse.

“No. You’ve known her for a few weeks. I’ve known her all my life. She was there for me while my mom was sick - helped Naan care for her. Doc looked after me when she passed and didn’t make me feel bad for ringing that stupid bell every damn day expecting my dad to come back.” Zoro looked away when fresh tears broke free. “Doc has been through enough shit since she was little. I should be there to protect her right now.”

The words were barely audible as they began to break and as his words broke, so did Usopp. A hand ran across his face to either mask a sob or cleanse him of whatever guilt that gripped him. 

“It was a mistake to have her come. When we get her back, we should take her back to Syrup village.”

“No.”

That one word fell like a stone inside a well. It directed all eyes back to him, but Zoro didn’t care. A fresh wave of rage hit him at the idea of sending you back to your village because it was safe. You were safer with him than alone in some village. 

“You don’t get to decide that. Especially you,” came Usopp’s curt reply. 

“Last time I checked you don’t get to decide that for her, either.”

Zoro didn’t think the waiter should have an overall say in this either, but he knew Sanji wasn’t wrong. It was ultimately Doc’s decision on if you stayed or went back to the village. If you wanted to stay with him. 

“You guys know nothing about her and suddenly you’re acting like she’s a vital part of the crew!”

“She is a vital part of this crew,” Luffy snapped. He regarded Usopp with a softness that hardened as he spoke. “Doc has dreams of her own. Dreams that outgrew Syrup village a long time ago. Our crew - my crew - wouldn’t be complete without her. She’s family.”

“We are her family, Usopp,” Nami began, “and she’s proven that she believes that too. I may not have had her my whole life, but Doc is the best friend I never thought I’d get to have. You aren’t the only one hurting.”

If any of them turned to look in his direction, Zoro was going to bolt. The last time he’d had a drink felt like ages ago back on the Going Merry, which meant he wasn’t drunk enough to be having this heart-to-heart with everyone. 

“Right. I’ll be outside.”

“Zoro-“

He was tempted to keep walking and pretend he hadn’t heard her say his name. It was the best plan to keep his sanity. So, when he turned around to look at her he breathed a quiet, ”fuck,” into the air. 

The minute Zoro locked eyes with Nami he already knew without her speaking what she was silently pleading with him not to do. She was terrified he would go off on his own to find you. He knew the score and knew from talking to Nami that it wasn’t just your life at stake. An entire village that had been terrorized for a decade was threatened with the possibility of death if they fucked this up. 

Zoro was a lot of things but heartless wasn’t one of them. 

His jaw ticked as he considered telling her she didn’t have to worry. He would be right outside waiting - watching - for the first signs of dawn to peak across the sky. Instead, he gave her a small nod of understanding before he turned to finish his descent out of the hut and to the safety of outside. 

While he did want to go rushing to your rescue, Zoro knew if you found out villagers died because of his actions, because he wanted to save you, you would never forgive him. So, Zoro would meditate and wait for the break of dawn to crest over the trees before he allowed the drums of war to march him forward. 

The sound of the screams from the village was something you knew would forever carve itself into your memory. Every rising shout, a cry for mercy, would haunt the halls of your mind like an old house. Every creak, groan, and slam promised to remind you of this very moment. The fury behind every agonizing wail of someone losing their home, a loved one - a child - of watching their lives go up in blood and smoke hammered curses so deafening you thought your eardrums might shatter. 

You imagined if they could see you tied up and paying your penance, you were sure the villagers would spit on you the same way they did Nami. Nami, who only wanted to help the only way she knew how. 

And you. 

If they could curse you, you knew they would. Fear did that to people. Just like the villagers in your own village viewed you. 

Syrup Village had never been your home. The only reason you’d considered it a place to think of that way was only because Naan was there. And Usopp. You’d known for years that none of the villagers trusted you. You could still hear the first trace of whispers, the judgemental eyes as your tiny hand grasped onto Naan’s tighter. Afraid the current of their hatred would flush you back down into the very sea they claimed you belonged.  

The way Mr. Cawes left Naan’s order of fresh baked bread and flour outside the store. Linens from Miss Sotaw’s shop was placed in a basket in the alley by her back door. Every time they knew it was you who came to gather Naan’s goods, you were never allowed inside. 

A bad omen. A Filthy curse. 

“You did this to us!” 

“I knew you were a blight - a stain that should’ve been removed.”

“You came and ruined us! Now we’re all dead. Dead! DEAD!”

“Murderer!”

“Doom bringer,” the tiny voice inside your head called you.

Those same people who treated you like a plague in their existence were the same ones who showed up begging for your help. Who came in the middle of the night pleading for you to follow them home. 

“Please my wife- “

“My children- “

“My grandfather hasn’t been able to eat.”

Each time they came to the small hut at the edge of town placed on the cliff by the ocean, buried behind the trees, you expected kindness. That you would walk into town and not find harsh glances and turned backs in greeting. You’d thought after everything you’d at least get acceptance. You helped them and they repaid you by treating you the same. 

And yet, you still helped. Believing if you did enough - were enough - they would finally see you the way Naan always claimed she saw you. 

“We can’t allow the ugly in others to diminish the good in us.”

Good. That’s what Naan called it. Goodness of the soul. The character of a person. She so firmly believed your soul was good…but even you noticed on days when you told her about the voices - shared in your imaginary friends - the cold dread that rid her face of warmth. 

No matter how much you wanted to believe her, you knew there was something about you that was different. Whatever it was, you knew it caused problems and those problems, like now, what happened in Coco Village, were all your fault. 

Because it was your fault, wasn’t it? If only you listened to Nami when she’d warned you. If only you’d listened to Zoro when he didn’t feel right and told you going back wasn’t safe. You barreled forward, not questioning why they gave that warning. You were too focused on finding normalcy in helping to take a step back. Now, the only reward you received for your kindness - your stubbornness- was pain. 

Pain for yourself. Pain, you brought down on others. 

The deafening echoes of black powder being released in explosions of sparks and deadly quicksilver jerked you out of your thoughts. You wondered how many of those bullets found homes inside fleeing backs. 

Arlong had his men string you up facing the entrance into Arlong Park just a few feet in front of Arlong’s makeshift throne. The tips of your boots barely reached the wooden walkway underneath you to try and keep your arms from completely tearing at the muscles. Your view of the pool and carnival games felt ridiculous now; a matching gross joke to match the body of the clown they’d pinned up with knives inside the milk toss game. 

Arlong was slowly creating a carnival of bodies. 

You were meant to be a sickening ornament to his crew when they returned from destroying Coco Village and any unsuspecting visitors who might try and show up. And one you were dreading to see. You were a reminder of the fishmen superiority Arlong so boldly claimed. One that proved humans were the weaker species, and showed just how beneath them you truly were. 

The first few hours the pull of the metal chain cutting into the skin of your wrists was unbearable. You’d tried to remain stoic, because you refused to give Arlong the satisfaction of seeing you whimper and cower. You didn’t want him to take what ounce of fight was left inside you, but slowly as the hours passed, and the cries from the villagers rose higher with the flames, you felt the first crack begin. 

Your fingers attempted to curl into your palms, but you were swiftly reminded of the pinching steel that engraved itself violently into your wrists. For the hundredth time, you tried pulling your arms back in towards your sides and believed that you would magically have the strength to rip the pillars apart like the Greek gods you’d read about in Naan’s old library. She told you that the book, like many others you found over the years, were silly stories not meant to be read. You wanted to ask her why she kept them then.

If you could suddenly have strength like Hercules, you could’ve torn this place apart. The pillars would fold in like torn butterfly wings and once they were gone, the chains that held your arms open and left you exposed would be no more. You’d be free, leaving you to run to the village and do what? 

What could you possibly do to help them? 

You did this. All you wanted was to help. Instead, you’d sent a whole village to its damnation. And what was your penance? All night the tides of your guilt grew higher with each sound of tearing and breaking of homes being ripped apart frame by frame.

Gods, their screams were endless. Their terror was ruthlessly carried on the wind; each breeze making your stomach curl and bile to rise in your throat. You knew there were pleas in those cries. Someone begging for their loved one to be spared only to be met with violence. Horrors that, if it didn’t kill them, would hollow out their souls until the only thing left was a shell. 

You did this to them. 

Nami warned you. Told you countless times that it wasn’t safe, but you didn’t want to listen. You’d been arrogant in thinking you wouldn’t get caught. She’d warned you. 

“People will do anything when they are starving.”

You’d wanted to help Nazifa and her family and now you’d doomed them. You’d doomed the whole damn village because you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to show kindness. To prove you weren't a monster. To hope that they wouldn’t see you the way your own village had. 

Another wail broke through the gunfire and rose up with blackening smoke into the midnight blue of the sky. A canvas of flame licked across that darkness, and you knew they’d finally set the whole village to burn. 

“Do you hear that,” Arlong asked from behind you, your name tinged like the shit end of a bad joke. “All that death and dying? Make sure you get a good listen and mark it to memory: you caused this. You and Nami.” 

“Fuck off,” you seethed, bloody spittle dripping from your bottom lip. 

Your sharp tongue was rewarded with him grabbing the stick he’d started using hours ago and slammed it home against your ribs. The way the pain blossomed into every nerve was immediate. The air in your lungs twisted, trapped inside, until it released in a scream of your own. The expansion of your diaphragm and the sharp electric burst of agony that came with trying to breath told you Arlong broke something. 

You tried to take shallow breaths. Your mind struggled to work around assessing your own wounds - how many ribs and where the possible break was - over the sound of Arlong’s incoming rant. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me that way.”

“Don’t like the tone of my voice?” Your question was loaded. The both of you knew it. “Stop talking to me like I give a shit.”

You knew the next hit was coming. It was obvious in the way his hand tightened and released on the wood. The way his eyes exploded with a spark of sheer hatred. The smirk that bared teeth before his body lurched forward. You braced your body for the next blow, but Arlong changed course last minute. The wood slammed into the left side of your face with such force you heard the wood splinter. A piece of the board flew over your head in pieces. It almost felt like you were trying to follow it, the way your neck snapped to your right. 

The blood leaking from between your lips was immediate. It rushed like a river and if you were able to move anything past the shockwave that resonated inside your skull you would’ve looked to see if a tooth was knocked loose. If the day-old cut in your cheek was ripped open to mingle with fresh wounds. 

The blood was immediate and so was the swelling. Already your left eyes and cheek were bruising - swelling to try and stem the tide of any further internal damage Arlong no doubt caused. 

The radius positioned under the thumb. Ulna to the little finger. Eight carpal bones make up the wrist…

Over the last few hours, whenever Arlong, Chew, or your new bodyguard, Murtogh, came into view your mind hardened itself to prepare for what was to come. You’d learned Chew preferred fire and Murtogh liked blades. Chew specifically enjoyed heating up objects and pressing them into the tender flesh that was your stomach. His laughter sent you into sensory overload as your skin sizzled and melted under the heat of the lastest objects - cigars. 

You wish you were stronger. A part of you wished you didn’t cry out or feel your body struggle uselessly against the chains to get away. You wanted to have more rage in your thrashing - threatening to break free and break their bones the way they broke yours. Maim them the way they so lovingly maimed you. The only safety you could find from the torture was going over the bones of the body. The steps to suture wounds. The items necessary to make herbal remedies and antidotes for poisons and illness. 

Grind it down in the mortar to make it more potent. Add lycan moss until it forms a paste…

It didn’t matter if it was to cure fungal infections, gangrene, or headaches. You named off the components inside certain mushrooms and the specifics of what made them deadly. You went back to memorizing the hand bones that lead down back to the wrist. The bones that felt like they were breaking with each tug and pull your body involuntarily made in a useless effort to flee when one of them came grinning towards you. You couldn’t fling yourself back anymore. Not since Murtogh carved into the meat at the back of your caves, just below the knees.

So when Arlong rose up from his makeshift throne and came towards your broken body, now hanging limp and broken, your brain immediately began to say the name of every plant that could be found at Irkhaven. You tried to focus, but soon you found yourself counting the number of steps it took Arlong to reach you before his finned hands grabbed ahold of your hair and pulled your gaze up. It took you a moment to look past the blood that had dripped inside the swollen lids. 

“Ah, can you hear that, Doc?” He used his hand to amplify the sound you couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made his stomach-churning smile ever wider. “The boys are almost here with our newest guest.”

Oh, gods. How could you have forgotten? 

It’d felt like an eternity inside these walls - your personal hell. Your mind shifted somewhere else to keep you from completely breaking, but at his words everything slammed back to reality. 

Nazifa. 

As if remembering her was enough to conjure her, the sound of a screaming child grew closer behind the wall. It was all you needed to renew the struggle to break free. You couldn’t let them harm her; hurt her in any way. Your heart slammed with such force against your ribs your legs gave out from underneath you. The tips of your toes struggling to find ground as the cuts Murtogh had given you expanded every time you attempted to straighten your legs. 

“Let me gooo! Please. Let me go!”

Every choked word that screamed around a sob felt like it held you underwater. Suffocating you in your own growing panic as you thrashed helplessly in your chains. Arlong’s laugh was guttural and made your body grow still as he came up beside you.

“So, there is still a little fight left in you after all.”

“You have me, Arlong. You don’t need the girl. She’s innocent!”

You didn’t care how raw your voice was with desperation. The way unspoken words settled like still water in your lungs - calm, waiting to rush free at the slightest ripple. You were willing to give blood - sell your soul - whatever it would take to keep the devil away from her. 

“Now, where would be the fun in that? Nah, the way I see it-“he moved to stand in front of you. His face the only thing that took up residence in front of you - smiling as Nazifa screamed. “She owes me the same amount of blood as you do.”

All your life you’d heard about hatred that burrowed inside the hearts of every man - every creature - on earth. How the flames their rage stoked rose higher and higher until it consumed villages and the people within. How their hatred was used like righteous fire to burn out the existence of anyone in their way. You’d heard stories about hatred that changed lives. Ruined them. Changed them. Naan had always been so careful with you in keeping those thoughts at bay - fighting them with every fiber of your being. 

“Hatred is a baptism in pain, child. One I pray you never experience. One that changes a good heart to something else. Something deadly - not even love can cure.”

What did Naan know? She never knew the torture you went through with the children in the village. The many ways they reminded you of how unwelcomed the sight of you being alive was to their vision. The way the adults sneered at you: an unholy omen of misfortune dropped on their island built on the fortune of others. There were many times when your own pain could’ve created a seven-layer inferno of hatred all on its own. 

But while the horrors of the world still persisted, so did the goodness that lived inside of you. 

The drive to heal. To save those like yourself. Those who felt unworthy of being saved. For the first time in your life, you felt the rage of your own hatred rise like a phoenix in your chest and did nothing to stop it from consuming you. 

         let us in 

                         we can’t help

 if you deny us 

                   we only 

                                  want to help 

                                                       free us

                                 free yourself

All your life Naan told you not to listen. When the darkness came, she begged you to ignore it. 

“Shove it down. Keep it away. Don’t let it corrupt the good in you.”

But you haven’t seen what I’ve seen, you wanted to tell her. The words of disdain that dipped your tongue with poison and threatened to kill dynasties if your lips ever parted. You haven’t witnessed what these men have done. 

“All hatred is born out of fear.”

You could hear the ghost of a reply in the back of your mind. The same one she’d told you many times when you’d come inside crying as a child. A child’s mind was unable to understand how anyone could put their prejudice on a child. You could practically feel the warmth of her arms enveloping you - inviting - to give the comfort you craved. 

The darkness that crept in quickly pushed back against your attempt to satiate it once more with calmness and warmth. It was done being suppressed, and you were tired of pretending that the darkness inside you wasn’t a part of who you are. 

Arlong must have noticed a change. The way animals sense an impending threat. A predator they weren’t aware of closing in before they could prepare. A small piece of you rejoiced as the uncertainty began to steal the sadistic gleam that had been in his eyes. The brightness dimmed just enough for you to see yourself - bloodied and swollen - inside the obsidian of his eyes. You were met with a reflection of yourself; a mirror that saw the white of your good eye completely consumed with a darkness that bled like spilled black ink on paper. It continued to branch out around your eyes, stopping shy at the tops of your cheeks. 

You didn’t have enough time to think about what you saw. If brain damage was another issue to add to the ever-growing list of things to worry about. The sound of the gates of Arlong Park opening careened your neck to try and look around Arlong’s shoulder. 

Kuroobi held Nazifa tightly by the back of the neck and used it to direct her where he wanted. Her small hands didn’t stop their weak attempt to scratch at him - to cause him some sort of discomfort that would make him release her. Tiny rivers had created shapes in the dirt on face, matching the sobbing pleas that eclipsed her lips in tight shrieks. You thought maybe she’d fallen in mud or Kuroobi had thrown her in some. It wasn’t until she got closer you realized it wasn’t grime that dirtied up her face and streaked her clothes, but ash. 

Nazifa was covered in the destruction of her home. 

Arlong clicked his tongue and Kuroobi and Nazifa’s journey ended at the edge of the pool. A fresh wave of dread clawed itself inside your belly. Sharp and brutal and felt with every breath. Every breath that thundered your racing pulse in your ears. You didn’t need to watch to know what would come next, but your body reacted all the same as Kuroobi’s hand wrapped violently on the nap of Nazifa’s neck and hoisted her over the edge of the pool. 

Her scream housed more than just a simple room of fear. It was built around halls of terror that led to rooms that fueled the nightmares of imagination and ate away at hope. The ‘what if’s’ of unending questions that centered solely on what the last thing she said to her father was, or if she’d die for Arlong’s amusement inside his joyless circus. Nazifa’s voice raised higher and higher until it started to break. The sounds of her tiny feet pounding and sliding against Kuroobi’s solid form as they swung out wildly, as if it would be enough for him to release her. 

It was instinct that craned your neck in her direction. Instinct that brewed a fresh wave of adrenaline that forced you back onto the pads of your knees with your legs struggling to help you stand. The closer Kuroobi brought her to the edge of the pool, the more her scream turned into panicked shrieks. It sent your heart pounding against your chest, wild and raw. 

Let her go! Your mind raged. Your own thoughts turned to the sickening idea they were already hurting her. 

“Leave…leave-her…leave her alone.”

Each word struggled to work its way up your throat - passed bloody and swollen lips. The chains at your wrists bit into your skin as you fought against your chains to see them coming up on your right side. The minute Nazifa’s eyes found you her screams became inconsolable. 

One look at you sent her backpedaling into Kuroobi’s arms, as if she could ask him for safety. You considered it had to be how you looked. Broken. Bloodied with swollen wounds and open cuts. Fresh burns along your back that had married skin to cloth. 

But that wasn’t it. You remembered the way your one good eye blossomed obsidian in the iris of Arlong’s. A simple glance down your arms and to the hands that gripped your chains let you watch as your fingers, and part of your hand, ripen like rotted fruit. The chains sizzled against your skin with smoke noticeably rising from where they touched. Your own scream barreled like a pulled trigger from a musket up from your chest and blasted with violence into the encroaching darkness. The sound steeped in madness that changed to manic laughter. 

This can’t be real. 

Every hushed whisper you’d heard since you were a child. All the looks of hatred that painted over their fear as they looked at you. Every beating and fight that Usopp and you had been in. Every rock you counted as it was thrown - the saltwater that was forced down your throat - all of it no longer seemed warranted, when Naan told you their fear wasn’t. 

“Fear of the unknown makes folks foolish. Blind to the truth in front of them.” 

And what was that truth now? You wanted to scream. What truth was looking at you now as you listened to the rising panic of Nazifa’s screams. The murmurs and uneasy glances of the fishmen looking between them and their leader for answers. 

Leader. Make believe king. Another man who wished to play God.

Your head whipped with a snarl towards the self-proclaimed King of Nothing. His own teeth bared at another predator he didn’t see coming. You wanted to tear Arlong apart. Ask what he’d done to you, but you knew, deep down, this wasn’t the cause of anyone else. This has been inside of you all your life. This darkness. This…madness. The same darkness Naan begged you to discard and ignore all your life; your childish mind thinking she meant hatred. 

But there was more than hatred that boiled beneath your skin, and you’d let it in like a fool. 

The chains were beginning too lax. It would only take one hard pull and, you were positive, they would completely fall. You would be free. Arlong must have realized this possibility too. Underneath all the rage and loathing was something you knew he would refuse to name. Something that grew from the corpse of fear and blossomed into something more devastating: terror. 

The thought of Arlong cowering was enough for a smile to crack through the laughter. The hysterics of it rose around the both of you, sealing him in and forcing him to focus on the madness in the obsidian of your eye as you took the melting metal in your hand and pulled. The snapping of the first chain was enough to bring Arlong out of wherever his thoughts had taken him. 

“Let Nazifa go. Now!”

“Monster!” Arlong snapped, spittle flying from his lips. “You think you can make demands of me?” 

Arlong made a few clicks with his tongue and Kuroobi’s body responded to whatever code he’d given him. You watched in horror over his shoulder as Kuroobi lifted Nazifa back up by her neck and dunked her down inside the pool. 

“Noooooooo!”

The word came from deep in your belly - a scream of your own terror - that rattled your bones. The chains screamed as you found your footing, legs no longer weak, as you tried to push forward. The sound of wood beginning to bend, and crack floated in the background as another scream rolled through you. 

He wasn’t letting her up. Kuroobi wasn’t bringing her back to the surface to get air. To let her breathe. You watched helplessly as her small hands barely broke the surface. The way they struggled to hit at his arm - yanking, swatting - in hopes he would let her go. Let her breathe. 

“Nazifa!”

You screamed her name and took another step. You would pull your arms from your sockets if it meant you could save her. If you could just get to her and hold her up and clear the water that was smothering her lungs and stealing her breath. You took another step forward, but your bare feet slipped in blood that hadn’t yet dried. You weren’t prepared for the loss of traction and found yourself scurrying to try and stay on your feet. You had to keep pushing. Keep moving. It didn’t matter that it felt like you were tearing yourself apart. Those wounds were opening, and you repeatedly kept slamming your knees into the cement as you fell. 

Nothing mattered except saving Nazifa. 

Another scream came from you but this time it came from somewhere deep within. Somewhere fractured and desperate that shook the very core of who you were, and as it rose like a sickening chorus from your lips you swore you felt the very foundation of Arlong Park begin to break with you. 

You weren’t imagining it when the ground waved unevenly under their feet. Under yours. Whatever trance he’d been in was shattered, and it was enough to spring Arlong into action. Quickly, he closed the distance between him and the closest fishman in three large strides. His hand reached out to take the dagger from the fishman’s belt.

You weren’t surprised with what followed after. How fast he returned to stand over you in his one last chance to dominate you before he lost all control. When Arlong made his way back to you - teeth bared and arm thrusting forward - the dagger found a home in your side long before Arlong himself ever reached you. 

You’d treated plenty of cuts and knicks inside the safety of Naan’s home. Burns from stoves and road rash on the arms and backs of farmers whose horses had decided they’d had enough. It was the pirates who came to Naan’s door that carried the more lethal wounds with them. Deep cuts on thighs that required hundreds of stitches. Gangrene in wounds that ended with you having to help hold down the patient as Naan amputated feet, legs, or arms. You’d dug bullets from shoulders and mended broken bones. The few stab wounds you’d helped Naan with rarely ended well. 

You could remember the first time you saw the wounds pressed into the gut of the captain of The Hellbound. The howls of pain that filled the cabin as his hands scrambled to grab ahold of anyone - anything - as his body spasmed in pain. The way the blood flowed in a steady stream onto the basement table. He made such a fuss, you thought he must have been exaggerating. 

You knew now as the blade slid through your skin and into meat and sinew, that captain should’ve screamed louder. 

You watched as Arlong didn’t stop pushing until the blade disappeared completely inside your body. If you could’ve, you were sure he would’ve buried the handle inside with the blade and pushed it through to the other side. The adrenaline in your body kept you from feeling most of it - the shock. It couldn’t keep the blood from filling your throat forcing you to cough it up with strings of it falling to your chin. 

It sliced something important. 

The last thing you wanted to do was show your surprise. To show anything. But after the shock wore off, and the adrenaline and whatever it was that overtook you, the only thing left was the disbelief. 

Your eyes glanced up from his hand to his face and found his smile waiting to greet you. He leaned in as another soft cough brought up more blood and inhaled. 

“Monster,” Arlong whispered in your ear. “I’ll go down in history not only as King of the Pirates, but also as a monster slayer. I’ll preserve your head to decorate the front of my ship.”

Monster. It’s what he’d called you. It was all you could focus on. You couldn’t even be grateful he didn’t remove the dagger. Arlong leaving it in was the best thing he could’ve done for you to prolong your life just a little longer. Long enough for you to try again to save Nazifa. Long enough for you to regain what strength you could to make sure you got the chance.

Somewhere between your attempted escape and Arlong embedding the blade in your gut, Kuroobi took Nazifa out of the pool. He’d set her small body down beside a carnival game where they locked a chain around her ankle. Not that she could move. Not that she could try. She was barely taking small breaths as she vomited up water. 

Another cough. Another fresh taste of chopper against your tongue. 

Monster is what Arlong called you. Freak. Sea Witch. Monster. You’d heard it all your life and, for once, maybe they were right. You were willing to be the monster one last time if it meant you could save Nazifa. You were willing to be the monster one last time if it meant you got to tell him goodbye. 

Dawn arrived. 

Zoro watched as the rays of cherry blossom pink and fire orange chased the last blanket of night away. He thought watching the sunrise seated where he was on the roof would be enough to raise hope in his chest. Instead, apprehension dug into the marrow of his bones until his muscles grew stiff. Until every member of the crew had descended from inside Nojiko’s hut to start the long trek back towards the village. 

Zoro didn’t want to see - to know - what had been done there. It was easier to imagine - to not have to bear witness - to travesties that happened to others. It’s how he liked it. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Zoro could recall a time when it was just him murdering and maiming his way through the East Blue bounties. 

It’d been so simple.  

Garner information on his next kill. Locate said kill. Kill said kill. Retrieve the bounty for the head in the sack and move on to the next. Keep his head down. Keep moving. Be oblivious to the world around him. It had all been so simple. But it hadn’t been living. 

Zoro realized that now as he walked with the small ragtag group Luffy collected. Zoro had been alone for so long, he forgot what looking up - noticing - the world around him was like. What it was like to have friends. To have dreams. To admit to wanting more than a life of solitude and blood. To see the world in an explosion of color and possibilities the minute you’d exploded into his world with a hand on his chest and a boot to his bedroom door. 

With each step closing in to the smoke that still rose from charred homes it felt like he was walking towards a nightmare of his own making. A knowledge that could no longer be ignored. The people here were held violently under the boot of someone who enjoyed having that power over the villagers. A fishman who stripped them of their dignity, their home, and hope. 

Arlong had destroyed countless lives for his enjoyment and as their small group came around the once whole fence into the grove of the village, Zoro realized he would do whatever it took to free these people. 

The huts - no matter how dilapidated they’d been before - that had housed families with their thatched roofs were gone. The violence of the night before was on perfect display in the charred remains of memories of the villagers' homes. He watched as families ran in a flurry of circles trying to find water to douse out what flames were left. Dozens of bodies covered in dried blood that caked itself in long streaks to match the mud and soot that tracked on open skin. A few bodies scattered around the area showcasing what happened to those who tried to fight - who attempted to save their homes. Zoro felt his hand tighten on the Wado Ichimonji as his teeth ground down tight together. 

“Arlong did this? Why?”

Sanji’s voice cut through the panic and, for once, Zoro didn’t find his voice grating. He didn’t have to look at the man to see the disbelief that painted his words. The heartbreak. The rage. He felt it too. 

Usopp dashed from his right to grab a bucket and attempt to help put out whatever fires were left. He did more than the rest of them. They were all too stunned to move. None of that could compare, however, to how Nami was feeling. 

Zoro risked a glance in her direction and immediately looked away. Not that the burned huts were giving him a different source of joy. 

Nami looked broken. Nami looked guilty, as if all of this was specifically her fault. As if Arlong had ever meant to let Nami go - let her village go - when she gave Arlong the money. Arlong was never going to let Nami go free. Maybe you’d realized that before the rest of them. Zoro knew you were smarter than him, at least. Smarter than his anger that blinded him from seeing the truth, especially about Nami. 

Zoro had wanted someone to blame for how you looked when he saw you. He needed someone to break with the fire that boiled his blood and made his vision crest in black. Like a fool he’d chosen Nami. The one person who suffered the most - had been suffering in silence for a long time. 

Until you saw her suffering and wanted to remind her she wasn’t alone. 

Zoro was glad you couldn’t see how defeated Nami looked. The way Nami’s haunted eyes roamed over every last destroyed hut, every lifeless body, and beat herself with one singular thought. 

It’s all my fault. 

“To punish the villagers. And to punish me.”

Usopp was too busy to notice the rush of villagers who were stampeding towards them. His back turned towards them while he put out the last of a fire of what Zoro could only assume used to be a porch. The group was coming up fast and it wasn’t hard to see that Nojiko was leading the pack. 

“What’s going on?”

“Nojiko told us about your sacrifice,” Genzo began. His voice edged with a sad determination as he asked, “We didn’t know. Can you ever forgive us?”

Disbelief coiled on Nami’s face and echoed in her voice as she replied, “There’s nothing to forgive. Coco Village is my home.”

“Then it’s our turn to sacrifice. We're done living in fear. We’re gonna march on Arlong Park. If those fishmen want a fight -“

“That’s not a fight. That’s a massacre! You will all be killed.”

“If there’s no hope for us to buy our freedom, then I say we die trying to fight for it!”

Genzo yelled the last few words to raise up a chorus of voices. All of them in a resounding agreement that they’d rather die than continue to live the same way for another minute. Zoro had to give it to them: it was impressive. Even if it meant they’d be slaughtered in less than a minute. 

“No, everyone, please!”

Nami struggled to calm down the rising mob and their anger. Zoro knew that, while anger could fuel the adrenaline in your veins, it would never be enough to make up for skill. These were farmers. Homemakers. They gave their bodies to the land to help raise it to its full potential. They didn’t spend hours swinging swords until their arms threatened to collapse. Practice in rings with bruises of their failures scattered across their bodies like road maps. While their size was impressive, Zoro looked out amongst the villagers and only saw another empty grave waiting to meet them. 

“No, I…I won’t let you do that.” Finally, the mob grew quiet enough for Nami to finish. “This is my fight.”

“No.” Luffy’s voice carried across the gap between their small group and the villagers. Loud enough they all snapped their heads in his direction. “This is our fight. Right, guys?”

Well, as first mates go…

“Finally, I get to cut something.”

Zoro never meant those words more. Seeing the village - the villagers - the dead and ruined among them didn't spur him into action. It only added to the aching restraint he’d been showing to draw out his blade and nurture the tangerine groves with fishmen blood. 

“But how are we gonna beat Arlong? We saw what he did at Baratie.”

“Every creature has a weakness,” Zoro cut in, but Usopp wasn’t having it. 

“Even bulletproof ones?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” Luffy muttered. 

Zoro sparred a glance in his direction to find his captain deep in thought. He wanted to ask him what, if anything, did he think of before Luffy continued. 

“And when I do, I won’t hesitate.”

It felt good to know that this was happening. That they were finally going to stop chatting and start putting all those useless words to action. Zoro was about ready to turn on his heel and head out, when a man came shouting from behind the mob of villagers. A woman struggled to help hold him under his arms, his own arms noticeably wobbled as he tried to apply weight with his arms to help. 

“Wait, please! My daughter-“

“Oh my god-“

Zoro’s eyes flicked to Nami. The way her eyes glistened with fresh tears. A hand clamped over her mouth while she tried to calm her thoughts about whatever it was, she knew. 

“What is he saying?” Sanji asked. 

“I’m pretty sure he yelled something about his daughter,” Usopp offered, his hands wringing tighter on the strap of his satchel. 

When the man was close enough, he believed he could be heard, and he tried again. Now leaning more on the woman for support as his cane dragged in the dirt. 

“Please, please my daughter, Nazifa, they took her.”

“Arlong took her?” 

“No. One of his men-“

“You’re the father of the little girl,” Nami sobbed. “The one that asked Doc for help.” 

Nami’s words collided into Zoro’s chest and stole the breath from his lungs. This time, it wasn’t his eyes that roamed to where she stood, but his whole body. He wanted to grab her - shake her and ask what she meant. It was strange to go from feeling grounded to free falling in a blink of an eye. 

The man shook his head weakly as another villager came up to wrap his arm around their shoulder. The support helped the woman who began to struggle to hold the man up on her own. 

“Thank you, my friend. Yes. Nazifa, my daughter. She told me she found a doctor. A nice woman who went by the name of-“ 

This man. This father spoke your name and Zoro felt crippled. There was never any doubt left in his mind that you were there - Arlong Park. What none of them had expected was for Arlong to send his men to take an innocent child, as well. But Zoro knew, it wasn’t meant to be a punishment on anyone else but you. 

“Doc,” Usopp whispered. 

His wringing hands stopped as he took a step forward. Usopp’s mouth hung open in worry, as if he wanted to ask a thousand questions, but every single one of them abandoned him. 

“Yes. She said that was a nickname. My daughter asked for her help and Kuroobi came and took her. Please! I am begging you - please bring Nazifa back to us.”

In an instant, it went from a need to rescue you to something bigger. Zoro couldn’t name it, but it landed on his tongue with a warning and scraped down his throat until he swore, he tasted blood. The girl was meant to hurt the village, Zoro knew, but it was also meant to hurt you. If there was one thing Zoro knew for certain, it was that you would sacrifice yourself to save that little girl. He had no doubt that was Arlong’s plan all along. 

Without looking to see if anyone else would follow, Zoro turned on his heel and headed back out of the village. He didn’t care if Luffy or Nami or that waiter was behind him. He was done waiting to save you - to now save a little girl. Zoro was going to save you both and burn Arlong Park to the ground in the process. 

You were in and out of consciousness as night grew into day. One minute you were blinking past a wave of nausea that bloomed into pain. The darkness noticeable in the illuminated light of the torches. The next, you were startled back into consciousness by a shriek from Nazifa. Your eyes blinked around a sunrise as they struggled to focus - to locate her in a mess of bodies.

The fishmen were no longer drinking and laughing. Their party was now abandoned for what looked like packing up items that would be useful on a voyage instead of a home base. Somewhere in the course of the night, the small group Arlong sent out to burn the village had returned. Their laughter and mimics of the villagers screams a joke they roared about all night as they were met with waiting bottles of beer. Some of them came to gawk at you; poke at you and laugh. The shock of the dagger still housed in your side a reality you were reminded of by the growing garnet puddle that was aging with the flakes of brown at the edges. 

Your eyes zoomed in and out of focus. It felt like someone had tied you to a merry-go-round and spun you relentlessly until you weren’t sure if the sky was up or down, left or right. The harder you tried to stay awake the more it seemed your body was ready to greet unconsciousness. You couldn’t allow yourself to sleep. Not when Nazifa screamed for help. For them to stop. 

While your eyes couldn’t focus, your ears seemed able to follow the high-pitched pleas until you located her where Kuroobi had chained her. The body of the clown twitched behind her making her scream anew as a fishman threatened to poke her with the very sharp end of a harpoon. 

“Hey! Fish sticks!” You called almost choking as you coughed. A fresh hint of blood salted your tongue. “Hey!”  

Finally, he looked up and glowered in your direction. 

“What did you call me?” 

You were willing to bet his ancestors descended from a barracuda the way his teeth gnashed. 

“You heard me. Fish. Stick. Pick on someone your own size before you end up on a pirate's menu.” 

It wasn’t the smartest idea you’ve had. Well, to be fair, so far none of your ideas were coming up as real winners. Winners or not, you weren’t going to leave Nazifa to the mercy of some jackass. Even if said jackass possibly came from a long line of razor-sharp flesh-eating fishes. 

His reply came in him throwing the stick up and catching it mid-air to launch in your direction. You tried to prepare yourself for the blow. The impact. You could see it aimed directly for your chest and might go clean through…if he wasn’t apparently cock-eyed. A rush of air signaled the harpoon had whizzed past and landed with a splintering crack into the wood of one of the carnival games. 

If this was a different time where you weren’t helplessly strung up like a turchicken on All Feasts Day, you might have made a joke. For once in your life, you could recognize now was not a good time to wound someone’s pride. Instead, you waited for him to puff up his chest and walk away from Nazifa before you called her over. 

You didn’t think she would come. Her eyes reflected the haunting image of what she had seen - the monster you’d allowed yourself to be. Plus, you were pretty confident you looked about as welcoming as you felt. You considered smiling in her direction, but decided against it when you considered how it might look. 

Try to look friendly and end up looking terrifying. 

“It’s okay. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Again, she didn’t move. She just stared and watched for any signs of…what? For you to change? For the inky blackness to spread around your eyes and coat your fingertips. You didn’t know what else to do to prove to her you were still you. So, you settled on patiently waiting. It wasn’t until another wave of pain rendered you unconscious, that you woke up to find her closer to you, or as close as the chain would allow Nazifa to get. 

Once you knew she was close, you allowed another fit of unconsciousness to overcome you. You hoped if anyone tried to do anything to Nazifa, you would wake up in time to try and do something. Anything to make sure she was safe, because you knew once morning came, Luffy would come for you with Zoro beside him. 

You held onto that thought as the fishmen scurried around you - heavy booted feet louder than usual informed you their arms were bared down with extra weight. They weren’t just packing up a few supplies on the ship to go away for a few weeks. Arlong and his men planned to run, and either they intended to take Nazifa with them or leave her behind. 

Neither option sounded like a winner.

If they did try and take her, what could you do? Realistically, you weren’t in any shape to try and defend yourself, let alone another person. It also wasn’t helping you couldn’t stay conscious for long periods of time or the very real fact you were dying. There was no point in denying it. Not when your body was numb and even the pain wasn’t sharp enough to keep you awake. 

Chew was pacing back and forth. His webbed hand wrapped tightly around a brand-new bottle of whiskey - his liver must be screaming for mercy - as he watched the fishmen continue to shuffle and stack crates. Some packing what preserves were left from the celebratory party from last night in their own crate.

“Let’s pick up the pace! You know Arlong hates to wait.” 

Chew walked by you and waited until you lifted your head, your neck craning to the right, to get a good look at him. He was trying to be intimidating as he raised the lip of the bottom to his lips and took a long sip. Chew tried to convey hunger - either for your guts or something else - and all you felt was a giggle growing in your chest. You waited until Chew was satisfied with his attempt at being scary before you checked on Nazifa to make sure she was still beside you curled up as she watched the fishmen work. 

As soon as you knew Nazifa was still safe - still beside you - you let your chin fall back to your chest when clouds of smoke bombs exploded around you. Each explosion caused a small yelp of terror from Nazifa and you felt one of her hands reach out and grab at your calf. Your wrists strained against the chains. Your fingers desperate to reach out and stroke her hair and whisper that she was okay. It would all be okay. 

A few more stray smoke bombs went off and you found your voice, cracked and tired, still trying to comfort her. 

“Who the hell is this? Who would be stupid enough to attack us?” 

Chew’s rhetorical question was answered when you heard the violent collapse of the gate. The sound of wood and metal cracking apart with a few stray pieces no doubt landing in the unsuspecting flesh of a few fishmen. This was a guess, but the sudden shrieks of pain made it feel like a spot-on assumption. 

Nazifa’s tiny fingers dug in harder into your calf, but you were barely aware of the touch. No one was paying attention to you, and, in their panic, you began to try and pull at the chains that kept your arms extended. It wasn’t until the smoke cleared that you turned your head just enough to watch Luffy, Nami, Usopp, and Sanji enter with Zoro bringing up the rear. 

It was almost comical the way they looked around the compound. The determination that creased their brow and the way it fell apart as one-by-one their eyes fell to Arlong’s cabanas and his makeshift throne. 

You were on full display in the middle for them to see. Just the way Arlong had planned for you to be.

“Nooooo!”

Not like this. Don’t see me like this.

It felt silly. It should be ridiculous that this was your one thought. Your one worry. Not the dagger violently embedded into your side like an unholy symbol of strength begging to be removed. Or the very, very real fact you knew you were slowly dying. 

No. You didn’t want their - your friends, your family’s - lasting memory of you to be arms spread violently wide, the fight in your body long gone, and covered in blood and gore. 

You could only imagine what you must have looked like. What it was exactly that they were all seeing. Your imagination wouldn’t do justice to the horrors that Arlong and his men had inflicted on you. And yet, the sound of Nami’s broken sobs were enough to awaken your dying heart only to absolutely shatter it all over again. 

There were a thousand and one reasons why you shouldn’t look up. What good would it do you to see the hurt - the pain - of seeing you sacrificially stretched out to glorify Arlong’s purpose of hatred? Each one of them hammered its growing demand to look at them. To allow yourself at least a glimpse of relief at seeing them one last time before…before it was too late.

You should’ve listened to the chimes of warning that resonated through your skull, because when you looked up it wasn’t joy and happy smiles that greeted you. 

Nami was the first one you noticed. Her body collapsed to her knees, hand over her mouth, as she sobbed. You wanted to call out to her and remind her none of this was her fault. You chose to come here. You came here for her. To save her. And now she was where she belonged - back beside Luffy and crew. 

The sight of Luffy’s hat on her head made you want to smile. You knew the importance the straw hat held to Luffy, and he showed Nami her friendship was something he treasured - valued - above all. You wish you could tell her, “Told you so,” but would have to take a rain check. 

It was the shout of your name that tilted your head towards Usopp. Out of everyone there, Usopp is what shattered your heart the instant your eyes landed on him. Everyone deserves a friend like Usopp. Who loved them recklessly and gave support blindly. 

“The Great Captain Usopp,” you smiled around the whisper. 

You knew he couldn’t hear you. The distance was too far and his body trembled as he looked at you. You wanted to tell him it was okay. It was all going to be okay, but you were never good at lying. Usopp was always good at creating stories of adventure to comfort others and bring smiles to their faces. It was never your talent, but his. 

You were so focused on him that when movement on your left and a glint of steel eclipsed your vision you knew already who it was. The hand Luffy placed on his chest was almost not enough to keep Zoro from taking another step. 

“Zoro.”

This time your voice was no whisper. It held no plea or cry for salvation. For a split second, you were alone with him inside Nojiko’s home. His hand cradling your face, possessing your hair between his fingers, as his lips parted yours and he devoured every sound he coaxed from between your ribs. 

You wanted to tell him…needed to tell him…that you lov-

“Here she is: your monster.”

Chew stepped in front of you and obscured your vision from him. They could blind fold you and your body would still know where Zoro was. In a crowded room, on a busy street, with miles of sea between you, your soul would always find him. 

Chew moved aside to give you a flourish that sent an uneasy ripple of laughter through the men. 

“What did you do!” Nami screamed, as she rose to her feet. 

“What did we do? Nami, what did you do? You betrayed us for these sad sacks of meat! Don’t forget we made you family, girl.”

“You were never my family,” she fumed. “You were my captor. You kept me in chains. You murdered my mother. Family doesn’t do that.”

“Where’s Arlong?” 

Luffy sounded determined. While his brow was furrowed in anger, angrier than you’d ever seen him, his voice remained calm. His mind no doubt went over what he planned to do once he came face-to-face with Arlong again. No matter how determined he looked it couldn’t squash the growing fear that flared to life in your gut as the memory of their last fight came to mind.

“Luffy - don’t,” you pleaded. 

A violent cough racked through your body that strained your arms against the chains and left spittle of amber to dribble down your chin. 

“Jesus, Doc-“Sanji huffed, taking a step forward. 

The minute they moved you caught a flash of movement to your right. The side Nazifa laid curled beside you. You heard a scream cut through the air and your body violently thrashed in your chains, body erupting in shockwaves of pain, as you struggled to see the fishman who held her at her throat. The tip of a knife pressed to the skin of her jugular until a fresh dot of blood appeared. 

“Nazifa!”

She was crying hard. Her little body trembling violently in the big fishman’s grasp as he looked from Luffy and crew and back to the men around him. 

“Tavar,” Chew hissed, “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m bargaining,” the man growled as he held her up higher. The chain at her ankle pulled at the joint until she let out a tiny whimper. “Stand down or I spray the floor with her blood.”

Everything came to a halt. 

No one moved. You weren’t sure anyone was breathing as a hush rolled through the compound. The only sound that echoed with horrifying clarity was Nazifa’s sobs. 

“Put the girl down. She isn’t a part of this.”

Luffy had both of his hands up to placate the man. While he seemed to come off meek, you knew he was calculating if he could reach her in time before the fishman hurt her. Before the knife could permanently take her from this world. You knew the answer to that sickening question. 

He wouldn’t. 

“Bullshit. She’s our ticket out of here. All five of you are going to sit your asses down and play nice or you’ll be digging two separate graves.”

You couldn’t allow them to give up coming this far. Nami’s freedom was certain but the villagers - Nazifa’s future - wasn’t. They would take her to make the villagers suffer one last time. Arlong and his men would make Nazifa suffer and break the way they tried to break Nami. You would not allow another childhood to be stolen. You would not allow another village to fall prey to men - fishmen or not - like Arlong. 

The fury had died at the surprise of the blade in your side. The shock of knowing you were going to die sent the darkness back and at bay. You didn’t know much about it or what it was, but all you could do was offer your body - what was left of your life - to coax it back out. 

You pleaded - begged - as Tavar stepped back with Nazifa. The chain caught and pulled on her ankle but he didn’t stop. He kept moving. Her screams filtered the air and the fury Arlong tried to kill erupted with a vengeance inside of your gut. 

You didn’t understand what this was or what you were. You understood nothing except that whatever it was lived inside you, gave you the strength you needed, one last time to try and save her. This darkness may be born of hatred, of rage, but that was not who you were, and it would not be the last thing you allowed Arlong or his men to make you. 

“Let. Her. Go!” You bellowed.

You didn’t need to see inside the iris of Arlong, or anyone, to know what you looked like. You felt the change slide through you the way oil pours over objects; it infects the sea like a disease. The rush of strength that corded through your muscles and the sizzling sound of burning metal. 

Realistically, you knew you weren’t going to be afforded all the time in the world. While you may have felt a surge of strength, it was limited. It did nothing to cure the slow death that was overtaking your body. The spurt of power only filled tired, fading muscles. Whatever strength you were able to gain needed to go to this one moment. 

While you pulled against the restraint on your left wrist, you maneuvered your fingers to press into the metal. You pressed deeper and deeper, tugging with every fiber of your being, until you heard the wood groan in defiance just before it snapped. 

The sudden loss of suspension sent you stumbling to the ground. The sound of the canopy creaking and slowly crashing behind you swallowed up the surprised shouts of some of the fishmen. 

You only had eyes for the one. 

Nazifa watched as you tried to get your legs to work. Your ankles and knees felt unstable as you applied weight back onto the joints; the muscles screaming in protest as they weakly helped move you forward. It was a slow, chunky movement, but you didn’t need to be fast. You just needed to get him. 

Tavar was transfixed on your descent. He wasn’t paying enough attention to the fact your legs, no matter how wobbly, were moving you forward. The chain dragged behind you while your right arm remained suspended. You didn’t have time to try and pry that one free. You only had a matter of seconds to launch forward, your hand outstretched, to grab the hand that held the blade. 

Fishmen’s skin is said to be bulletproof. There was the rumor that even blades sharpened to the point it could slice through hair were unable to slice through the weakest fishmen skin. You second guessed that last one, because the minute your fingers touched down on Tavar’s hand you felt your fingertips slip into the meat underneath. 

He bellowed out a scream of shock as he dropped the knife - dropped the girl. He was backpedaling away from you, his hand held high with the skin bubbling and melting. If this was under different circumstances, you would’ve wretched. 

This was no time for a weak stomach. 

Nazifa was back on the ground and crying. Her tiny hands scurrying her back away from you as far as the chain would let her. You reached out and grabbed the chain and wrapped it tightly in your hand. She let out a scream of her own, afraid you would hurt her, before the chain sizzled in your grip just enough for you to give it a good jank and snap it in two. 

In one last attempt to get her to understand she was free, you threw the broken chain gently towards her and waited for her eyes to meet yours. 

“Run.”

You didn’t have much time left. All this commotion - the strength you didn’t have to move - it was catching up to you quick. You made sure to watch Nazifa scramble up to her feet, her tiny hands grabbing the broken chain, and run towards the front of the compound towards safety. 

Towards Luffy. 

It wasn’t long before you felt someone tug on your broken chain. It jerked you back towards them - Chew and another fishman. Chew waited until he knew your hand was safely held far enough away for him to close the distance. To wrap his hand around the hilt of the dagger Arlong gifted you and twist it in deeper. 

You could gasp. No sound came out as your mouth fell open in shock as agony spread like a shockwave through your gut. He made sure to give you one last smile before he twisted again for good measure and pulled the blade free. 

That’ll do it, you thought. Nothing in there to stop the bleeding…

You heard the roar of your name crack against the sky. You didn’t need to look to know it was Zoro who called out to you. Zoro who would never admit your name held both ferocity and anguish all in one word. You couldn’t do much else but feel your body fall weightless, swimming through nothing, as it collided with a thud against the concrete. 

You only had enough strength to turn your head to face him. Your eyes doubled in vision as you watched him rush forward, more demon than man. Your demon hunter, Roronoa Zoro. The future greatest swordsman who ever lived. 

“You’re dead.” 

The words left him like an avalanche; his voice steeped in hatred dripping with malice. His body felt like it was being boiled in his rage while his eyes focused solely on you. For a split second, Zoro felt the ground tremble under his feet. He considered maybe this was the way the earth chose to answer him. Could it feel hell stirring in the depths of its guts? The damned and demons writhing frantically beneath the soil at the thought of receiving new souls to torment? 

It took Zoro only a moment to realize it wasn’t an earthquake or hell under his feet that shook. 

It was him. 

The world faded inside his vision and narrowed in on your body protecting the girl - hilt of the blade still protruding from your side - Zoro felt like his body would implode if he didn’t move. He could deal with the anger - the sheer unmovable hatred - that promised them only their deaths. 

Fucking idiots. They didn’t seem to realize death had walked inside their compound. Zoro was more than happy to shepherd them across to hell. 

“Where’s Arlong?”

“He’d be in the map room- Zoro!”

Zoro was done talking. Done listening to plans of actions. He only needed one. 

Cut. Kill. 

He rushed forward and made contact with the first fishman in his path. His arms swiftly blocked the oncoming blade on a sloppy downward thrust that ended with Zoro’s blade slicing through his gut. His feet moved on their own accord away from the dying fishman towards the next one that rushed him. 

Zoro was vaguely aware his arms were carrying out slashes before his mind could catch up. It was years of relentless training and meditating that made him fight with ease. On any given day, Zoro would tell you it was the thrill of testing his metal and having a good sword fight that spurred him forward. He wouldn’t deny the excitement - the euphoric feeling - of beating someone supposedly better than him. Breaking foes more than twice his size into pint sized pieces. 

A fight like this - surrounded by dozens and dozens of fishmen - would tick all of his boxes. He would’ve relished in the fight. 

Not now. 

Not with you broken and bleeding so many feet away from him. 

She’s dying. 

Shut up! 

Another rush of fishmen and Zoro easily parried a blow and followed it up by rolling his shoulders to the side and bringing the Wado along with him. It sliced clean through the flesh of the fishman just in time for him to lunge forward, knocking back a blow that would’ve landed at his collarbone and embedding the Wado Ichimonji deep into the chest of his would-be attacker. 

A fishman jumped from the pool to land in front of Luffy, stopping him dead in his tracks from following Nami. Zoro tore off at a sprint, slicing the neck of a fishman on the way, and rode the momentum sideways up the rock wall. When he was close enough, he sliced just below the inside of his knees sending the fishman screaming backwards into the pool. 

Zoro landed crouched on a rock and tried to ignore the growing sting of flesh tearing. All your hard work at stitching him back together again with the help of Zeff would be for nothing if he wasn’t careful. 

Careful. What a crazy fucking concept when the rage in his gut was giving way to something more terrifying than open wounds. 

He was spending too much time on the rock. He wasn’t playing it smart. It would only take a matter of seconds for one of these assholes to get the drop on him and wound him. Zoro was aware someone was trying just that. 

A fishman landed just behind him and as Zoro swung sideways, body following at an angle, he stopped midway as Sanji power kicked the fishman off the rock. 

“I had that one,” Zoro commented dryly. 

What he received in return was a smug smile with Sanji’s hands annoyingly tucked in his pockets. 

“If you had’em I wouldn’t have got’em.” 

A flash of annoyance ran through him that was quickly followed by a thrill. It’d been a long time since someone kept him on his toes and forced him to fight faster to prove who was better. It was a feeling he could’ve got lost in if it wasn’t for the painful reminder of your lifeless body yards away. 

Lifeless. 

You weren’t even moving anymore. Your eyes were still open, but Zoro didn’t sense any movement. No light ticks as they registered the battlefield they’d created or a steady rise and fall of your chest. 

He felt himself barreling forward through the next fight. A clash of steel on steel or his blade slicing through flesh to sever bone. Zoro worked his way through wave after wave of men to make his way to you. 

Zoro’s eyes never left you. 

His eyes always flickered back after one fishman went down to make sure you were still where he’d last seen you. That no one was coming to hurt you anymore. 

Zoro wasn’t a fool. He’d seen what you’d become in the blink of an eye. The way the air itself seemed to shift as what he could only describe as black ink spilled its way along your skin. It darkened your one good eye and bled out even further. The tips of your fingers and hands slowly becoming ominous like the void while they all watched you reach out and melt your way through skin. 

Here she is: your monster. 

That’s what they’d called you as they had you on full display. Zoro was willing to bet he wasn’t the only one of them that was confused, but that confusion paled in comparison to the way you looked hung up - bloodied and exposed - like some fucked up toy. Zoro thought he knew what grief was like - the pain of loss and its familiar ache of rage when Kuina died. 

Seeing you like that almost brought Zoro to his knees. 

Your body was broken. The dagger in your side was not hard to miss along with the cuts and burns that were littered across your body. 

These men tried calling you a monster. The only monsters he saw were the dozens of fishmen around him who tried tearing you apart for their own amusement. Who dissected you, spat at you, all while he knew damn well you fought to protect that little girl long before they ever arrived. 

Zoro noticed the way that one word - monster - speared itself into your heart and caused you to flinch. He wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and help you see the only monsters here were the ones now dead at your feet. An offering Zoro would give you, if it meant it would save you. 

The next time his eyes glanced over his shoulder, as the force of his sword knocked his opponent back a few feet, he saw something different. A glimmer of hope washed over him as he realized you’d brought a hand to rest where the dagger had been. Your body was still unmoving, but it was enough for Zoro to know you were still fighting - he could still save you. 

He launched himself down the path, taking out two fishmen as he went until, on the last swing, he had to kneel down to do an upwards slash from naval to chin. The cut was successful, but it required him to overextend his arms and the sharp tug on Zoro’s still healing wound left him down on one knee. His hand hovering over the stitches and feeling fresh blood begin to bleed on the fresh bandage you’d given him. 

“You look tired. Maybe you should take a break.”

Fucking waiter. 

Zoro glanced in his direction and watched as he landed a debilitating spin kick that left Sanji at eye level. Zoro could feel a fishman rushing up behind him, but he didn’t rush to stand. He wanted to show the waiter he was more than capable of fighting - more attuned to attacks - without even having to look. 

He deflected the blow easily and stabbed the man over his shoulder. Zoro’s words grounding out as he spoke, “Maybe you outta get back in the kitchen.”

Sanji rose up just in time to duck under a downward swing. He stood to his full height to land a hard blow into the gut of his would-be attacker. 

“Quit screwing around. Doc needs us!”

Zoro didn’t care to watch as Sanji dispatched two fishmen at once. His vision had turned crimson and the adrenaline at your name leaving the waiters’ lips sent his blood roaring. The waiter should be lucky a fishman just conveniently happened to be in front of Zoro. For it was him that felt Zoro slowly press the sharp edge of the Wado against his throat just before Zoro sliced it clean through. 

“You just got here. Don’t you dare stand there and try to tell me you know what Doc needs.”

“I know she’ll need my cooking once I save her,” Sanji shot back as he went head on with another fishman. 

“Putting two slices of bread together doesn’t amount to cooking,” Zoro grumbled. 

“Ooooooh, is someone feeling threatened?”

“Shut up,” they both snapped to the very annoying, and somehow forgotten, bag strapped to Sanji’s side. 

“Then get me back to my body! We’re close. I can feel my toes. Trust me! I can help you guys win this thing and save Doc. Something tells me she is very much still bleeding on the floor.”

Zoro didn’t want to admit they could use the help. The only reason he hadn’t run to your side was the bodies that planted themselves in the way. Every fishman ended up sacrificing themselves just to make sure you’d suffer a little longer, bled longer, waiting for help that may never come. 

At this point, Zoro would take any extra help, whatever or whoever it was, if it meant he could get to you sooner. 

“I swear clown,” he growled, “if you screw us over…”

He watched as Sanji tipped the bag over and let Buggy’s head fall free from inside. It landed with an annoying thud and an even more annoying, “Ow!” Of pain. Within seconds Buggy’s head flew over towards his body and reconnected. The clown practically jumped for joy out of his restraints. His hands touched a pattern of desperation across his arms and chest as he spun around in circles. 

“Oh! It’s so much better than I even remembered.” Zoro and Sanji waited until he spun around one last time before he faced them. “Hey, so, um…I’m gonna get out of here.”

Zoro was more annoyed than surprised when Buggy flipped them off and made a run for it. 

“Hey!”

“Sorry, kiddos. I’d love to make thing right, see to it that Doc was, ya know, still alive, but it’s time I exit stage left.”

“Fucking clown,” Zoro whispered as they watched him depart. 

“Eh, we don’t need him mate. Everyone's either gone or dead-“

“How dare you strike down my fishmen brothers! That’s fine. You’re no match for my fishman karate.”

“You have a habit of speaking to soon,” Zoro snapped in the waiter’s direction, which he dismissed with a grunt. 

The large fishman ran forward and barreled like a torpedo inside of the water. Zoro tried to watch as he picked up speed inside the pool, but barely caught on at the last minute when he rose out of the water. Zoro sidestepped just in time as he grabbed a hold of Sanji and took him down. 

Zoro rushed forward and tried to cut at his back, but the fishman easily blocked it and swatted him back. The forearm that smashed into his chest sent his next breath smashed against his lungs. A fresh wave of pain took hold of his chest as he moved to stand, feeling the stitches become looser. 

He got to his feet just in time as the fishman took a challenging step toward him. Zoro was up to block the oncoming blow and spin to his feet. He swung tight curves with his blade to keep his midsection protected from any unexpected kidney shots, but it wasn’t enough. This fishman’s skin was proving to have been toughened by years of battle and experience. The Wado was sliding right off each blow that the fishman countered. 

In one swift move, he landed a crushed punch to his chest that sent Zoro flying back a few feet. When he landed, he didn’t try to get up right away. He couldn’t. Not when he felt like a split coconut. 

Zoro was vaguely aware that Sanji was up and fighting, giving him time to collect himself. It didn’t last long, however, until he was knocked back just a few inches away from Zoro’s feet. 

“You’re no match for me. My kicks can break a ship’s keel.”

“That’s nothing,” Sanji grunted, as he tried to rise to his feet. “You should have seen Zeff’s kicks when he found an eggshell in the crème brûlée.”

“I get it. Zeff was mean to you. Boo-boo.”

Once they were both on their feet, the fishman rushed forward and double kicked into Sanji’s chest, sending him flying back. Zoro easily sidestepped the waiter’s flying body and rushed forward swinging a quick succession of blows with the sword. Each one the fishman dodged, eventually knocking Zoro out of the way and back to where he started next to Sanji. 

“Nami is a fool to have her faith in such weak compatriots. First, this doctor who is weaker than a shell, and then you two. Not worth your salt to be called fighters.”

Zoro felt his brow raise in question as Sanji began to remove his suit jacket, until he saw the look on the man’s face of tight rage. 

“You don’t ever badmouth Nami. You don’t ever badmouth Doc.”

“Now you’ve done it.”

Zoro watched as Sanji landed impressive blow after blow against the fishman. Each one reverberating off the fishman’s ribs with an impactful echo. Zoro knew, without having to continue watching, that once Sanji was done calling out his last shot, the fishman wouldn’t be getting back up. 

This was his chance. 

He should’ve dared one last glance behind him just to make sure the waiter had it under control. That he wouldn’t be bringing danger back to you. It was a sensible thing to think of. But Zoro was tired of being sensible; of waiting and before he knew it, his body carried him over to you with his knees crash landing down beside you. 

His hands hovered over your body as his eyes tried to take in the stock of your injuries but - fuck - there were so many. Zoro didn’t know what to do or where to begin to look. This was your expertise. Sure, he’d closed up a few small wounds of his own. Small scars for small fuck ups. 

It was you who mended him back together after one of the biggest battles of his life. It was you who kept him alive after everything he’d said, after struggling to push you away. 

So afraid. 

Zoro had been so afraid to tell you how he felt; what you made him feel for the first time in his life. Last night in Nojiko’s hut hadn’t been enough to tell you - show you - just what your sheer presence meant to him. What your forgiveness felt like wrapped and pressed against his lips. 

A frantic sob shook itself free from his throat and brought him back from his thoughts. Tears he hadn’t known escaped past his lashes and were now sliding down his face. He needed to act. 

He needed to bring you back to him. 

Zoro could hear your voice of reason in his head, prompting him to look for the most life-threatening wound. It was easy to see. The blood that covered your hand was slowly beginning to run less and less, warning him that he was almost out of time. 

Quickly, Zoro tore his bandana off his head and removed your hand, immediately applying the cloth with pressure against the wound. The sudden press of his hand was enough to bring you back to consciousness. Your body jolted from the shock of his hand - the pain - pressing roughly against the wound and throat greedily sucking in a sharp breath that forced you to cough. 

You cried out from the pressure the cough caused and Zoro felt his body finally move into action. His free arm scooped you up close to his chest while he made sure his hand stayed pressed tightly against your wound. 

Zoro watched as your eyes tried to focus on him. It was at that moment when he felt the first stirring of fear coming back to life with a vengeance. You were so weak. The light in your eyes noticeably fading as he held your life pressed between the soaked cloth in his palm. 

He tried to smile as your eyes stopped on his face and, instead, it came out cracked. A sob shuttered through him as he fought the urge to press you tightly to his chest. 

A soft smile split across your bloodied lips. A hand that seemed weighed down by gravity itself struggled to lift up from your side. He figured after too many failures you would stop trying, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t. You were determined to bring it to his cheek until you held it gently in the palm of your hand. You couldn’t keep it there; Zoro knew from the unsteady sway your arm gave it would drop. 

Without thinking, he wrapped you closer to his body, his left hand taking over giving pressure to your wound to allow his right to hold your hand tightly to his cheek. 

“Ther-there you are…”

Zoro smiled back his tears as he whispered back, “Been waiting for me?”

“All my life.”

You’d smiled around each soft-spoken syllable like it was an everyday thing. Like it was simple, as easy as breathing. As if the both of you were in some other reality where you were waking up from a dream and he’d been there to greet you. 

As if your words didn’t shatter what little reserve Zoro was holding onto before he broke. 

You gently took your hand away and brought it down to the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji. You gave it a light tap before you said, “We have to find you two more swords,” you gasped. “You don’t look right with just one.” 

Zoro couldn’t just let your hand go. He gently pulled it away from the hilt and placed it against his chest. His eyes staying connected with yours. 

“You gotta stay with me so we can find them. Together.”

He knew, from the way your smile wilted at the edges, he might have been asking a lot. The blood in the corner of her mouth seemed to be fresh. What was he doing waiting here with you? Why wasn’t he moving? 

Do something!

“Where’s the girl?” You coughed. “Where is Nazifa?”

Suddenly, Zoro couldn’t talk. Hand flexing - release - squeeze - release…

“The girl is good, Doc. She’s safe...because of you.”

It was the waiter who replied for him, but he didn’t care. For the first time he was grateful to hear Sanji’s voice, because Zoro couldn’t trust his own. 

“Never fear - The Great Captain Usopp is here.”

One by one they all filled in. Usopp from outside the compound and Nami from inside Arlong Park. Zoro didn’t look at them or care to see them. He should’ve asked where Luffy was (he was sure he heard Usopp ask and Nami answer) but he couldn’t pry his eyes away from you. 

Zoro knew there were questions being thrown around him. The rising of heated voices and bodies crowding around him to try and get to you. Anytime he felt someone try to move in, he pulled you closer to him. 

I won’t let anything happen to you. 

Never again. 

He was lucky he’d brought you closer or else he wouldn’t have caught the barely audible whisper of your next words. 

“You were right, you know.” He felt his brow knit together and it only seemed to amuse you more. Your smile was unable to show it as it began to fade. “I should’ve stayed - with you last night. In Nojiko’s hut.”

Zoro felt himself laughing back tears. 

“That’s the first smart thing I’ve heard you say.”

“Don’t get used t - don’t get used to it, Mosshead.”

“Hey, Doc, eyes on me!”

He could feel you going limp in his arms. Zoro shook you, praying that maybe pain or annoyance would keep you with him. Zoro needed to get up - to move. You couldn’t wait any longer for Luffy to finish with Arlong. 

“Nami! Coco Village - does it have a doctor?”

“What? No, no” Nami stammered out. “The only doctor that’s been here is Doc. The village has a midwife and that’s it.” 

“It’ll have to do,” Zoro grunted. 

He placed all his weight on his legs to steady himself as he pushed back onto his heels. His arms held you close to his chest as he started sprinting towards the compound entrance and back out into the sea of trees. 

Zoro was never much for directions. It’d been a running joke since he was young that if you told him to head North, he’d somehow end up North-West or even all the way South. It didn’t bother him before, his poor sense of direction, but for once in his life he hoped, as he ran through the trees, that he was heading in the right direction to the village. 

Please. Please. 

“Zoro,” your meek voice called out for him. It called again, attempting to demand his attention, as he stopped for a brief second. His eyes roamed around the trees looking for the first sign of the tangerine groves through the clearing. With a, “Fuck,” flung loosely from his lips, he started forward again. 

He was worried you were going to tell him that he was going the wrong way. Just like you had when you’d helped him out of Kaya’s well. Zoro wouldn’t allow you to die. Not when he could save you. He wouldn’t let you die. Not because of him and his shit lack of directions. 

“Zoro-“

“Shhh, save your strength.”

“No,” you shot back. It was strong enough to make him believe you were okay. That your blood wasn’t leaking through his headband and between his fingers. “I need you to know…the flower. I think I started to fall for - for you, when you placed the flower…in my…hair.”

There! Just a few more feet Zoro could see the opening he’d been searching for. The tangerine grove just in front of him and another mile back to the village. 

“I’ll get you all the flowers you want, Snowdrop. I’ll bring you some everywhere we land. You just got to stay with me. Okay? Stay with me, Doc. You can’t leave me. You can’t - not when I’ve just found you.”

He waited for your reply. His leg muscles working in overdrive to keep himself from collapsing; keep pushing forward. He couldn’t deny his arms were beginning to shake under the strain to keep holding you, but Zoro would let his body collapse first before he ever let you go. 

He was so consumed with getting you there - if he could just get you there - it would all be okay. He didn’t notice that you’d gone limp. Your fingers were no longer digging between the buttons of his shirt to hold on. It wasn’t until he was at the edge of the village that the realization hit him and his whole body disintegrated in the center of the village. 

“Help! I need a doctor - somebody, help!”

Zoro always wondered what sound a broken man made when he felt like he lost everything. He wished he never had to find out. 

The days bled into week and that week became another. Garp and his Marines came within that time, interrupting an okay party. Sanji had - unsuccessfully - flirted with every girl in Coco Village and received the cold shoulder each time. 

It was the little amusement Zoro found throughout the whole thing. He felt bad he hadn’t actually been outside, listening to Usopp’s grand tales of adventure and defeating Arlong and his men, or seeing for himself the women blowing off Sanji’s flirtations one eye roll at a time. He wasn’t out there when Garp and his Marines first arrived, either. 

He’d been where he’s been the last few weeks stationed at your side, waiting, for the moment you woke up. The minute he’d heard the commotion outside, he’d quickly exchanged the book he’d been reading you for the Wado Ichimonji that rested beside the bed. 

It was only a false alarm. Or as false of an alarm they could all hope to get. Luffy’s grandpa wanted to hear from him that Luffy wanted to be a pirate - that he believed he was a pirate. Zoro still found it strange. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t just send a postcard or something. Beating the shit out of your grandson just to make sure you heard right what career choice your grandson wanted to make seemed like an odd choice. 

Or maybe that’s just what families did. 

Zoro wasn’t all too sure on that last part. He’d never really had a family of his own. Not until now, that is. 

The villagers in Coco Village were kind in setting up a hut for you to stay. The midwife came to change your dressings until she’d asked him if he’d wanted to learn. In the beginning, Zoro couldn’t do it. As the layers of your clothes were removed, more horrors of what Arlong and his crew did to you came to light. 

It enraged him and made him feel sick. He wanted to resurrect them just so he could kill them again. Other than that, it filled him with a deep sense of regret. No matter what anyone said to him it would never be enough. There were no time machines. No wizards or potions that allowed anyone to go back in time to change the past. 

Didn’t mean he didn’t wish there was. 

So, after the initial shock of taking in every cut, every bruise and burn, Zoro finally let Lydia, the midwife, teach him how to care for you. 

Zoro was certain it was the gentlest he’d ever been - caring for your mending body. He cleaned and dressed your wounds every eight hours. His fingers gently placing salves Lydia mentioned were for soothing and others for fighting infections. 

Zoro was meticulous in his work and thought of ways to joke that, while you were sleeping, he’d taken your job. He brought in flowers he found as he walked the Conomi islands and made sure to replace them whenever they began to wilt. 

He saved each one, pressed between the pages of the books he read to you that he’d picked up from your room. 

The reading thing was something he’d picked up. When he wasn’t meditating, going out to practice, or get food from the waiter, he was reading out loud. Nami told him how Zeff told the crew, while he’d been asleep healing from Mihawke’s wounds, the importance of talking to him. It had something to do with following the sound of their voice or knowing they were there or something like that. Zoro wasn’t paying too much attention to what Nami was saying. Zoro just knew it was important he was next to you - talking or reading - to coax you back to the living. 

He considered he must be doing a piss poor job of it. In the last few weeks, you never stirred. When he ran a cool cloth down your arms or did your dressings you gave no sign that you could feel him. When he read books that apparently were by some philosophers or a terrible tale of young love gone wrong, it would elicit nothing. When he chastised the last book out loud Zoro thought, for sure, you would rise up to smack his shoulder. 

“It’s a classic.”

His current reading was making him want to go to sleep. Zoro couldn’t believe there were that many different plants that could kill you. He also didn’t want to consider why you had a book like this stashed in your room. He placed the book down on the cot, allowing his arms and legs to stretch before he crossed them both. 

A little nap wouldn’t hurt. 

It felt like you were stuck in molasses. The more you tried to move - to force your eyes open - you were greeted by infinite darkness. You were vaguely aware, outside of that darkness, there were voices. The shuffling of movement as heavy footsteps moved around the room until they came to a stop. 

There were voices that weaved themselves in and out. Whispers of words that tried to coax you back to the surface. A velvety baritone you knew all too well-read poems from Rumí and Basho; stories of old and new lovers. Of adventures that would keep them apart. 

You followed the path his voice weaved through syllables and vowels. His voice grown raspy as his lips formed the words of poetic confessions written centuries before you were born. 

“From the beginning of my life I have been looking for your face.”

The darkness wasn’t heavy enough to keep you under - drowning - forever swimming up and up to find your way out. You followed Zoro’s voice until a crescent of light began to show up above the endless black. All you had to do was reach-

You were jolted awake. You were in your body and no longer trapped in your mind. However, the minute you opened your eyes you were met with all the healing aches your body processed. The sensitive sting as your retinas tried to get used to natural light once again. So many questions filtered through your mind - how much time passed since you were asleep? And one specific major question: how were you not dead? 

You couldn’t recall much. Your memory was fuzzy and came in puzzle pieces; always missing the necessary piece to connect it all together. The last memory you had was Nazifa. The monster you’d been so lovingly called your entire life is what you became if it meant being able to save her life. After that…Chew took out the dagger and everything seemed to fade to black. 

Everything but him. 

Your mouth was drier than desert air, but when you glanced to your left and found Zoro asleep in his chair, Wado buried in the cross of his arms, all desire for water faded. 

There wasn’t any doubt in your mind the main reason you were alive was because of Zoro. 

You took advantage of seeing him like this, softer somehow as he allowed his body to relax in the comfort of your shared hut. Your eyes greedily drank in the angles of his face. The slope of his nose down to the small scars that created imperfect indents into this skin. They were so small, like the one that rested on the inside of his left cheek and on the top of his cupid’s bow. You couldn’t imagine someone - besides Mihawk - ever being able to reach him enough to mark him in any way. It was an unreal concept, and maybe that’s why you suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to touch him. 

“You know, you’re not much of a bodyguard if you get caught sleeping.”

Gods, was that your voice?! You sounded like shit. 

“You sound like shit.”

It was nice to know that even death couldn’t kill your hormones. Zoro’s voice was thick with sleep and somehow only enhanced the richness of his voice. You hated it. You were supposed to catch him by surprise. Not the other way around. 

“Well, do you by chance have any water handy?” 

Zoro reached down beside his chair to grab a bottle that looked very much not like a water bottle. He held it out towards you, bottom first, and gave it a little wave when you made no move to take it. 

“No water. Got booze, though.”

You couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving you. Your body instantly wincing at the sharp pain it caused your very, very dry throat. 

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

Zoro shrugged before bringing the neck up to his lips and took a sip. 

“Suit yourself.”

“You know, you don’t seem incredibly shocked that I’m awake.”

“I knew you were awake before you said anything.”

“How-“

“Your breathing pattern. It changed.”

He made it sound like it was the simplest answer he could give. It didn’t feel simple to you. It meant he hadn’t really slept and that he - that Zoro - tuned himself into your breathing patterns for any sign of trouble or change. 

You weren’t sure what to say as you came to this realization. Zoro had never been one for heavy conversations or saying more than needed to be said, but the way he looked at you now…you could’ve sworn words were collecting on the back of his tongue. The both of you were unsure of how to proceed.

How long have you been here, next to me? 

You were close to asking when the door to the hut flew open and seconds later Luffy walked in, his eyes on a plate of food that had your mouth watering. 

“Hey Zoro, Sanji said you didn’t come for breakfast - OH MY GOD! Doc! You’re awake!”

Luffy had a habit of his hands grasping the top of his straw hat whenever he was excited. As if it would be enough to blow it from his head at any moment. Or maybe it was due to the fact that excitement had him rushing forward. What he was rushing towards was you, and you were not prepared for the way he threw himself on top of you. 

“Zoro - a little help,” you wheezed. 

You ask for help and what do you get? A shrug and a nod so small if you blinked, you’d missed it. 

Luffy pulled up just enough that your faces were mere inches apart. His eyes brightened with unshed tears as they roamed over your face. It took Luffy being magnet close for you to realize that you could once again see out of your right eye. The thought alone lets you breathe a little easier with the comfort you no longer look like a cyclops. 

You were alive. Your body wasn’t fully healed, and you weren’t sure if you could trust your legs but…you were alive. And Luffy was grateful to see you. 

“Oh, Doc, it is so good to see you moving around. We couldn’t get Zoro to leave the hut-“

“Okay, that’s enough,” your grumpy hut companion huffed, as Zoro couldn’t slingshot out of the chair fast enough. 

“Oh, a body crushing hug to the wounded is fine, but if he starts giving out secrets, heaven forbid.” 

You tried to glower over Luffy’s shoulder but found yourself smiling, instead. While Luffy was steadily reminding your body it was a bruised and damaged thing, it felt damn good to be in his arms. To be wrapped in his sunshine one more time. You brought your arms shakily up to embrace him as best as you could before Luffy pulled back to stand by the bed.

He smacked an excited hand across Zoro’s shoulder that earned no reaction from him. Zoro’s eyes protectively transfixed on your frame in the cot. 

“I have to let Nami, and the others know. They’re going to be so excited to know you’re okay!”

In usual Luffy fashion, he didn’t wait for confirmation from you or stopped to see Zoro was already about to protest. You were sure if Zoro was able to say anything, it would’ve been, “See needs more rest,” or something along those lines. It was something you would’ve said, but at least you could’ve added in, “Doctor’s orders.” 

Zoro just looked more broodier than usual, as Luffy crashed back out into the grove arms and voice waving out his excitement. 

The hut swelled with the silence that enveloped an unspoken heaviness between you. You couldn’t remember much, but you could remember Zoro fighting. He fought his way to get to you. Dozens of fishmen wanted him dead, but you could remember, before the blanket of nothingness danced across your vision his eyes as they found you. 

The Demon Pirate Hunter had never looked more broken.

Zoro crossed his arms over his chest - his still very swollen nicely formed chest - stop that! - and you wondered if he’d been tending to his own wounds. His jaw ticked and a heavy swallow followed as he turned his attention back to you. You couldn’t take the silence. You wanted to remind him he’d kissed you, not that long ago, in a place very similar, but you weren’t sure if it was to make him more protective or run screaming from his emotions.

Why did he have to be complicated? Naan said people were like onions - multilayered and required time to peel back everything there was to know. You wondered how many layers of protection for himself Zoro added sitting there beside you, not sure if you were going to make it. 

Or…no. They’d seen what you had become. 

Here she is your monster.

You tried to swallow past the growing dread that suddenly pressed down on your chest. You were never good at reading the room but - Luffy hugged you. They seemed grateful you were alright but…they all had to have seen. And yet…

“Zoro,” it wasn’t hard to notice the way his body tensed before it eased out of his body. “How is your wound? Have you or anyone else been tending to it?”

At least now he looked surprised. It was better than broody. 

“You’re lying in bed - more wounds than I can count - and you’re asking about mine?”

“Well, duh. I am a doctor, remember? You were my patient first.”

There it was. That half-cornered smirk you’d grown to love.

“I’m fine. It opened up a little during the battle, but I’ve been taking care-“

“Your stitches opened!” You sat up too fast and your hand shot to your side. Your own body trying to remind you, with a wince, it was still on the mend. 

Zoro was there kneeling by the bed, his hands furiously tossing back the blankets to get a clear look at your wound. It felt oddly intimate, his deft fingers running over the bandage and lightly prodding for any signs of tear or bright fresh blood. 

“You need to be more careful,” he huffed.

Your sudden outburst had him achingly close. His hand that he’d brought to your side protectively stayed in place over the bandage. You weren’t prepared for how close it’d brought you both together. If you wanted, you could’ve placed your forehead against his. You could lean just a few inches, brush your eyelashes across his cheek or press your lips against his.

But would he still want you? 

Your tongue nervously licked out across dry, cracked, lips and you weren’t a fool. The hungry way Zoro’s eyes followed the motion was the silent answer you needed. 

“Zoro,” you breathed his name like the faithful coming to worship. 

Another jaw tick. Another flick of his gaze was all it took for him to take that next step to move closer. Until the sound of sprinting feet pounding up wooden stairs tore you apart. 

When Usopp crashed through the door, he did so shouting your name. It was hard to be mad when you could see he was already crying. He launched himself at you and you started a debate whether he or Luffy squeezed the hardest when they were overcome with emotions. 

“Hey, hey,” Zoro chastised, “Remember she’s still not at a hundred percent. Be gentle.” 

“You telling anyone to be gentle, Mosshead, is the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Sanji!” 

His name came out in a fit of laughter as he moved towards you with gentle blue eyes and sunshine grin. Zoro grew tense beside you the closer Sanji came, and you thought you were going to have to intervene, but Sanji made it over and wrapped his arms around Usopp and you. 

“It’s so good to see you awake, Doc,” Sanji hummed into your ear. 

“It’s good to see you too, Sanji. How far does that happiness at me being alive and well go? Does this mean I get to order anything off the menu?”

“For you, sweets, I’ll even let you make your own menu,” Sanji replied as he stood up. 

A wink already loaded in the chamber and sent your way the minute he stood to his full height. 

“You’re pushing it, waiter,” Zoro warned. 

Sanji just shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to smile down at you. Slowly, Usopp disconnected himself from you, but made sure to take one of your hands in his. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up…so I can tell you all about how I single-handedly stopped Arlong and saved your life.”

You couldn’t stop your brows from raising up towards your hairline at his words. Of course he was the man of the hour. Who else could’ve performed such a truly amazing feat?

“Did you use your smoke powder special slingshot ammo?”

“Yes!” Usopp breathed out with a smile, “I was able to load multiples at once this time. They rained down on those fishmen and set them all on edge - just where I wanted them.”

You were smiling as you watched Usopp draw his arm back and make noises of the slingshot releasing. The small pops of explosions, the small powdered balls made as they crash landed on the floor inside Arlong Park.  You tried to keep wearing that same engrossed smile as your brain recalled how they really sounded. The smoke created a cloud that made it impossible to see - to breathe. 

Zoro must have noticed the slight change - a crack in the facade you tried to play - because you felt his hand gently place itself on your shoulder. For comfort and to ground you there in the present. 

“But I can tell you all about it when we get ready to leave.”

“For the Grand Line?”

Usopp’s smile wilted just a little before he responded, “Not exactly.”

You looked up at Luffy, Sanji, and lastly Zoro who’d taken back his hand and wasn’t facing you. 

“What’s going on?”

“Doc, we’ve been talking and we think it would be best to take you back.”

“Back?” 

“Back to Syrup Village.”

“I would just like to quickly point out,” Sanji began as he took a step forward, “that the only one who thinks this is a good idea is Usopp.”

“Way to throw me under the bus, man,” Usopp shot back over his shoulder. 

“I’m not going back.”

“Doc, look at what happened to you.”

“What happened to me can happen anywhere, Usopp, even Syrup Village. You of all people should remember how unwelcome I am there. How much they hate me.”

You whispered the last words as you leaned in to him, knowing that he was the only one who understood. How could he think that place was better for you than the Merry? 

“Naan is there-“

“She is the only one there with you gone.” Your voice was beginning to quiver and you hated how your body betrayed how deeply this was hurting you. “What am I supposed to do when she’s gone too?”

“I told you this was a shit idea,” Zoro grumbled.

“Not helping,” Usopp shot back. 

“Doc is a person with dreams and aspirations,” Luffy cut in between them. His body outlined in a halo from the outside light. “None of us have the right to take those away from her or tell her how to live her life. Not even if it’s meant to come with good intentions.”

Footsteps carried up the stairs and made their way to the doorway. A light knock from outside let everyone know, whoever they were, was coming in.  It wasn’t until you saw the bright orange hair that you felt your body try to leap out of the bed. 

“Nami!”

It was easy to see she wanted nothing more than to run over to you, as well. The two of you were owed one of the world’s longest hugs once you were out of this bed. You expected her to do just that, but noticed how she shuffled around Luffy with her hands softly on the shoulder of Nazifa. 

You felt your world tilt. She was safe. She was here and she was safe and okay and alive. But that joy was easily replaced with uncertainty. Flashes of the fear you’d caused her as she looked upon your face. Beyond the blood, bruises, and the place she’d ended up, Nazifa was terrified of you. 

You waited for her to scream. To point and tell you everything that you’d ever heard about yourself from others. You steeled your heart and tried to prepare for those words of fear and hatred to bash against the walls you’d so carefully created. Waited for the villagers to swarm the hut with pitchforks and torches to chase out the entire crew. 

The tension brought to life every wound your body was trying to heal but nothing prepared you for Nazifa barreling straight ahead. Her tiny body colliding into yours with such force your side erupted in pain. You couldn’t care about that as her tiny arms enveloped your waist and buried her face against your chest. 

“I’m happy you made it.”

You barely picked up her words as she mumbled them against your chest. Your arms were still held inches above her tiny body. Unsure of whether you should hug her back, if it was what she wanted. Carefully, you test it one arm at a time until they enveloped around her, bringing her in for a warm hug. 

“Me?” You whispered against her hair. “I’m happy you are safe. It’s all I wanted.”

“And she is - we all are - because of you. Because of your friends.”

The voice of Nazifa’s father jolted your head up to watch as he slowly entered the hut. Nami and Luffy made space for him as he entered and behind him, at the steps of the hut, were villagers who looked on. Each one of them held a look of gratitude.  

“You came to help even when you were told it could cost you your life. You’ve begun to heal me. You’ve given me one of the most precious gifts a father could ask for - time. You saved Nazifa not caring what it could cost. You have given us many gifts to be grateful for, and you, Doc of the Straw Hat crew, we are most grateful for you.” 

With each word every memory that shaped you from your village, all the words of disgust, the glances of mistrust; every single one disintegrated until the only one that was left was this moment. 

You were seen beyond what - who - you were questioned to be. None of them called you witch or devil. There was no hatred in their eyes or pitchforks ready to send you scattering back up to the hut up on the cliff. No one was trying to drag you back out to the ocean to leave you there to drown. 

For the first time in your life, you were met with kindness, and that kindness was enough to shatter every defensive wall you’d built. You felt yourself shatter under their gratitude, under Nazifa’s tighter embrace, and her soft words, “I’m glad it was you who came.”

The villagers had walked the crew back to the Going Merry to send you all off. It felt bittersweet slowly watching as their waving hands began to fade until all that was left on every side was the ocean. 

The walk back to the ship had been a challenge you weren’t expecting. What made it even more of a challenge was that Zoro was hellbent on being the only crew member to help you. You wanted to use a walking stick and, instead, ended up piggybacking on the back of one particularly handsome green-haired swordsman. 

Walking the Merry, you inhaled deeply as you moved down the stairs towards the crew’s quarters. The memory of being aboard Arlong’s ship and his hospitality felt like a nightmare. The Merry was your home and as you walked the familiar halls towards your room, it was a fact there was no denying. 

Usopp wanted you to go back to Syrup Village, but dropped the argument. He was outnumbered five to one and, most important of all, you refused to go. The Going Merry was more your home than Syrup Village ever was and the crew inside her walls were your family. 

You were smiling at this revelation when you came across the door to your room ajar. It stopped you dead in your tracks. You knew when you’d left that you had shut the door. Carefully, you took a few cautious steps forward and heard the rustling sound of movement. 

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by Zoro’s back. He was stacking books back on your shelves and continued to do so even after you’d opened the door. 

“I didn’t know you were in the habit of stealing books,” you teased, as you stepped inside your room. 

“I’m not. I used these to read to you while you were…asleep.”

So it had been his voice you’d heard calling to you all those times. While you didn’t always hear the words, you knew the cadence of his voice. The way his tone rasped and grumbled when it’d been out of use. The depth of the baritone when his voice dropped in pitch. It had been Zoro who’d led you back - back to him. 

Zoro still hadn’t turned to look at you and maybe it was for the best. You weren’t exactly sure what your face looked like at the moment. 

“Zoro-“

“Never again.”

You were about to take another step towards him, but the tone of his voice stopped you midstep. He’d finished lining the books back on the shelves and now leaned with his hands pressed against your desk. 

“What?”

“I woke up and you were gone. Not just gone. You were taken.”

“We’ve been over this, Zoro-“

“And we’ll go over it again!” His hand pounded on your desk, causing it to groan before he turned to face you. You were expecting him to be angry, but he didn’t just look angry. He looked broken. A man who had watched someone he cared about be torn to pieces in front of them and wasn’t sure if they would survive. “Well go over this again and again until you get it.”

“Please don’t assault my desk.”

“Doc, I’m being serious. I won’t allow you to do it a second or third time.”

“Allow? And how are you going to keep me from doing it if your thick moss headed self is lying unconscious from an idiotic sword fight, huh?”

This time you did dare to take a step forward. Your index finger jammed into a very hard chest, but you weren’t here to appreciate his chest or the way he towered over you. You wanted to make a point…you just had to remember what that point was when his hand gently reached up and took your wrist to place your hand over his heart. 

“I’m not going down a second time.”

“You don’t know that.”

Gods, why did your voice sound so shaky? Answer: Zoro, with his hand keeping yours pressed to his chest, had taken a step closer. Close enough when you tried to tuck your chin to hide the tears that stung your eyes his finger was there to stop you. He lifted your chin softly up and up until your eyes were locked back on his. 

“I do know that and, because I know that, it also means I’m keeping you close at all times.”

“You can’t make that kind of promise, Zoro.”

You didn’t doubt him. You wouldn’t ever doubt him again, but the memory of watching him go down haunted you even as he stood before you. Whole, but with a few added scars. 

He didn’t answer you right away. His eyes scanned over your face no doubt easily seeing the desperate way you pleaded with him to promise it anyways. 

“I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Through the adventures brought on by our captain or those we make on our own. I’m yours, Doc and you’re mine. I’ll be here for you just like I know you were there for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

If it wasn’t for Zoro’s hand holding yours steadily against his chest you were positive the trembling in your body would’ve spread. With his free hand he brought it up to cup your cheek closing in the last few inches between you. 

His eyes roamed your face - searching - waiting to show him that this was what you wanted. That he was what you wanted. Why couldn’t he see you wanted him without question and with so much urgency. Ever since that day he’d tucked the flower behind your ear looking at you like you’d held his world in the curve of yours lips. 

You’d both been a part of what the other had been searching for and finally found it. 

Zoro must have gotten all the confirmation he needed because he closed the last few inches between you. His kiss started off timid and chaste until he finally let go of your hand and circled his arm around your waist pinning you to him. He was careful to make sure he didn’t press you too harshly against him. His hand firm and careful of all the wounds that still required healing, but a soft gasp you hummed against his lips tested his restraint. 

Just as the kiss began to deepen Luffy’s voice calling for the straw hat’s to assemble for a cast- off ceremony broke you apart. Zoro didn’t completely let you go. His breathing ragged and his eyes still hungrily stared at your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“We better go,” you huffed. “Before he calls again.”

“This better be important or I’m going to mutiny.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“At this point I’m really tempted.”

Gently Zoro reached down and took your hand and led you back down the hallway; back out towards the main of the ship. Sanji had already rolled out a barrel with Nami and the rest all circled around and waiting for you. Each one of you were stationed around the barrel, and just before you could ask what this was about Sanji silently answered you.

Sanji looked around the circle before he lifted up his leg and said, “I’m going to find the All-Blue,” planting his foot on the barrel.

A smirk lifted Luffy’s lips as he lifted up his foot and dropped it with a thud onto the barrel. 

“I’m going to be King of the Pirates.”

For the first time in a long time, you watched a genuine teeth-baring grin spread over Zoro’s face. His own foot coming down next to Sanji’s. 

“I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

Nami looked at you, her eyes the brightest blue, and placed her foot down next to Luffy’s. 

“I’m gonna draw a map of the world.”

Usopp looked at everyone before landing on you. His eyes filled with uncertainty as he knew it was his turn to express what his dream was. You were sure no one had ever asked to know before, but now, Usopp had friends who genuinely wanted to hear it. 

With a sharp inhale he planted his foot on the barrel and yelled, “I am gonna be a great adventurer of the sea!”

It now fell on you. What was your dream? You’d shared it with Luffy once, inside the kitchen of Kaya’s house. You remembered the way he believed in you - believed in all of you. You looked over at Luffy and felt your own smile spread wide until you placed your foot beside Usopp and Zoro’s. 

“I’m gonna be the greatest doctor the world’s ever seen.” 

You looked around the barrel with your legs flowered out around the top and saw what had to be the world’s greatest misfit family. Luffy looked around at all of you, a proud smile worn on his face as he spoke, “This is it crew. The Grand Line. Nothing’s going to stand in our way! Yaaaahoooo!”

If only Luffy knew there was plenty that would stand in the way. None of it would matter, however, not with a crew, a family, like yours. 

As always, Thank you so much for reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

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𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ²

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: as promised, zoro finally returned to you... after three years at sea. there's much left to be said, but a rogue butler just might get in the way.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: swearing, use of Y/N, canon typical violence, fluff with a hint of angst

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: everytime you leave

part one . part two . part three

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Nami’s little ship taking on water was the least ideal occurrence possible. Yet, deep inside, Zoro found it incredibly funny to watch the orange haired girl scramble around all frustrated like this. 

“Gecko Island,” said Nami, drawing Zoro out of his thoughts. She was hunched over her map with Luffy over her shoulder, per usual. “I think we’ll be able to make it before the ship sinks.”

Those words took longer to process than they should’ve, but Zoro couldn’t help it. Gecko Island? How long had it been, three years maybe? No longer than that, he was sure. His eyes went unfocused at the memory of a laugh that could easily end him and bring him back to life all at once.

“Swear it.”

“I, Roronoa Zoro, swear that we will sail again.”

Nami nodded to herself, saying, “Syrup Village is known for its ships. I say we dock there and ditch this junk.”

He couldn’t believe that luck. Zoro’s lips threatened to quirk into a grin before he got a hold of himself. He rested his hand on his swords and snuffed. “I’ve got a friend in Syrup Village who could help us.”

Nami took off her readers and rolled up her map. “You have friends?”

He shot her a tight smirk. “Just one.”

“And he can help us?” asked Luffy as he took to the ship’s helm. 

“She might.” Zoro checked on a knot here and a rope there. With his back to his temporary crew, he let out a small smile. “If she’s happy to see me.”

A surprised grin took Nami's face. “And if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” he assured, only half certain, if he was being honest.

It'd been three years since his promise, after all. Whatever happened next, Zoro could only be certain of one thing: oh, how he missed you.

જ⁀➴

Zoro was sweating, and it had nothing to do with the heat.

With every inch they grew closer to Syrup Village the swordsman swore he could hear your last words to him, a taunting sort of echo reflected by the sea. He’d always heard that water holds memories, and now it holds memories of you.

For better or worse, for reasons he just couldn’t fathom, you loved him. The very thought had his heart stuttering, his lips threatening to curve into a smile. Hopefully, time hadn’t changed your heart. It certainly hadn’t changed his.

He stood leaning on the mast, arms crossed to limit the fidget of his fingers. Unfortunately, this left him out in the open, a prime target for Nami’s incessant teasing. 

She slinked up beside him, curiosity already planted on her face. “So,” Nami drawled, not even trying to hide her shit-eating grin. “She?”

“Go. Away.” Zoro shifted away from her, tensing when Nami simply ducked forward, her short orange hair falling in her face.

She only laughed. “Oh, someone’s defensive.”

Zoro didn’t satisfy her with a response this time, yet she wasn’t thwarted, bumping his shoulder with a chuckle. “Relax. I’m sure your friend will be happy to see you.”

A beat of silence passed before he found himself offering up his worry. “I haven't written to her in a month.”

Nami scoffed. “Will she care when she sees you?” 

Probably not, was his first thought, but then again, what if you had changed? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you’d grown bitter? 

“Hey.” Nami snapped in his face. “Get out of your head, all right?”

He looked at her then, and he wondered why she cared. They weren’t friends, or at least, he didn’t think they were friends. But the way the two of them locked eyes and he nodded and then she nodded—he wondered if he even knew what friendship felt like after all this time.

It felt like you, of course, but you were something entirely different. Entirely more.

So he pushed off the mast and walked to the rail of the ship, sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, and got out of his own head.

જ⁀➴

You were terribly hungover, and Vee was having a ball over it.

Your every groan prompted just one more I told you so. Because she had, after all, told you so. You didn’t remember much from the night before, just that you were sad and the bartender liked you enough to forget about a cut off.

But feeling like shit never got you out of work before, and it certainly didn’t today. 

So you did your usual chores, albeit at a slower pace, crushing coriander and sorting it into jars at the corner table of Vee’s office. Vee herself stood behind one of the village’s elderly hypochondriacs, Miss Irma, who sat upon the examination table.

You and Vee had made quite the team over the years. While your knowledge solely pertained to the more natural medicines, Vee had gone to academy to become a real doctor, studying new technology and practices. Her fancy framed documents were testament to her achievements. 

She taught you nearly everything she knew, and you showed her a few tricks too, and as a result Syrup Village developed a phenomenal one stop cure all shop. Your various tinctures and potions came in handy nearly everyday—today especially as you downed a hangover tonic seconds after waking up.

You pursed your lips, grinding up the coriander as your temples panged with the consequences of your actions. Last night the alcohol had done wonders to make you stop thinking, but today was a different story.

“Next week’ll be three years,” you said to Vee, not caring as Irma perked up at the potential gossip. Ever since you had declared your love to a ship retreating from the docks, the locals had been dying to figure you out. You never let them, finding great amusement in being the town mystery.

Vee glanced up from taking Irma’s blood pressure, sensing an approaching vent. “So that’s why you’re so worked up?”

“That,” you confirmed, pouring the fine powder into an empty jar. “And he hasn’t written in a while.”

It was silly to worry about him. He could handle himself just fine. He was probably just busy. Yet, you had to admit, his letters were normally like clockwork. He had never missed a monthly letter, not once in three years. 

Vee suddenly stood beside you, taking your hands that you hadn’t realized were shaking. The older woman caught your eyes and offered a smile. “He’s a capable young man. He’ll be okay.”

You sighed, the sound quaking. “I know.”

She squeezed your hands and turned to remove the blood pressure cuff from a carefully listening Irma. “Take the supplies list from the counter and head to the market, yeah?”

“But—”

“Nope.” She was pushing you by your shoulders now, leaving a less than pleased Irma behind. Vee walked you through the hall, the kitchen, and right to the front door.

“Vee—Stop pushin’ me!” You planted two hands on either side of the doorframe, halting your exit. Puffing, you begrudgingly relented. “You never gave me the list.”

A triumphant smile adorned her face as she swept back to the kitchen and returned with your shopping list. You snatched it from her fist and left her with a feigned smile, not liking how she chuckled as the door clicked shut behind you. 

You huffed, fondly remarked “Bitch,” and headed down the cobblestone street with a brief glance down at the sheet of paper. Chamomile. Turmeric. Peppermint. Calendula.

You hummed. That last one might be hard to come by in the market, but surely one of the local merchants could find it for you. Turning the corner to head through the square, you caught sight of a familiar little man hurrying through the square. You swiftly pocketed your list and chased after him. “Joli! Hey, Joli!”

The mailman startled and whirled around, relaxing upon finding you rushing toward him. He didn’t bother with pleasantries; this had been going on for days, and the usual reply was on his lips before you could even get the question out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in an apologetic smile. “No letters have come for you… Maybe your friend has just forgotten?”

“No. It’s something else.” Why did everyone assume he’d forgotten? It wasn’t like him to forget. You worried your lip between your teeth. “He always writes. Every month, without fail. Something’s gotta be wrong.”

“You could always write to him first?” Joli offered.

“I would if I knew where the hell he is.” It wasn’t easy being penpals with the Demon Pirate Hunter, given he was never in one place for very long. 

But he hadn’t written in over a month. Surely, he couldn’t have forgotten you. He wouldn’t have forgotten you. Even with the sea dividing you, the pair of you were intertwined. Three years and no letter wasn’t going to change that.

“Sorry, Joli,” you said, realizing you’d zoned out. “Thanks anyway.”

He swept a brief bow and hurried off to continue his day, leaving you alone in the bustling town square.

Time had gone by very slowly, and although Syrup Village was charming, you couldn’t help but feel drowned by the mundanity of it all. Syrup Village, to put it simply, was boring. 

But mostly, Syrup Village just didn’t have Zoro.

He was off on the East Blue, God knows where exactly, and the worry was eating you away.

Shaking your head as if it could dispel your thoughts, you quickly shifted to hurry toward the market. It was a long line of stands and booths running up and down the eastern part of the city. Directly behind it was a fine view of the shipyard, with its impressive ships large and small. And then to the left of the yard was the port, busy with the weekly imports.

The evening started to waste away as you went from tent to tent, offering smiles and beri in exchange for ingredients. Only after you’d asked the local flower merchant to place an order for calendula did you turn to look at the sky. Perhaps it’d been long enough for Vee to let you back inside. You’d already gathered everything on her list, after all.

But first, maybe you’d bring home something sweet. Food always put Vee in a good mood.

“Thanks, Luc,” you said to the young baker, taking the cloth wrapped loaf of lemon bread from him. “Tell your mom I said hello.”

“Sure thing.” You waved him goodbye and walked into the crowds, pinching off a piece of bread and popping it in your mouth. The billowing sails of the ships caught your eye and drew you closer.

The port reminded you of Zoro. Well, to be fair, many things reminded you of Zoro. Even lemon bread made you think of his sour expressions if you let the taste linger too long. But there was something about the salty breeze and the cursing sailors that threw you back three years time. 

If you closed your eyes you could practically see it—you and Zoro stood at the railing of a shipping barge, one of his hands on his swords and the other caging you between the ship and him, only to protect you from the many suspicious sailors, of course. Not at all because he enjoyed the proximity. 

Someone bumped your shoulder and barked an insult, and you realized you’d literally closed your eyes. Oops.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and ducked your head, stuffing the lemon bread in your satchel. 

You stopped in the shade cast by one ship’s sail, well out of the way. How many pirates stood in your midst? It was a question you tried not to think about, but you wagered a fourth of the crowd, maybe, but no more than that. Usopp scared most of them away with his clockwork alarms.

Maybe you could find your friend before you headed back. Usopp’s stories were farfetched, but never dull in color.

You had taken a single step when the crowd of hurrying sailors and passengers grew thin, and your gaze was drawn like a magnet to a shock of green hair. You seized up, tense muscles locking you in place.

You blinked, forgot how to breathe, and blinked again. Certainly you had to be tricking yourself. Plenty of fools have green hair.

As you forced an inhale the figure came into focus, one of his hands rested on a white sword you would recognize in the thickest of fog.

You huffed, disbelieving. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be real. Parched lips parting, you noted that you hadn't had much to drink that day and the sun was rather hot… but you surely weren’t dehydrated enough to hallucinate. 

That wasn’t any green haired fool. That was your green haired fool, in the flesh, like an answer to a desperate prayer. He came back.

You might’ve stood there all day had Zoro not felt your stare like a hot brand on his cheek. 

His heart was already hammering in his chest, skin prickling with the need to just shout your name till someone told him where to find you. But… his shoulders tensed, not from the anxiety, but from wariness. His brow pinched and he gazed around to find whoever was watching him.

Bit by bit, his gaze roamed over sailors big and small, crates and barrels, until it settled on you amidst the passersby. 

He’d tried preparing for this moment. None of it was useful now as he met your eyes in an everlasting moment. How had he ever left?

Zoro’s hand slipped from his sword as he started toward you, each step far too long and slow for his liking. It felt like walking through water to get you, like there was sand in his shoes weighing him to the ground. 

Luckily, you were impatient.

You took off, feet pounding against the wood of the docks, shoulder checking at least five people and knocking one person to the ground. You were heaving even as a wide smile took your face. 

Zoro gasped the instant before you barreled into him, your arms flung around his neck as his own embraced you tightly. He stumbled and let out a glorious little laugh for only you to hear. The sound alone made three years of aching boil down to one desperate need to never let him go.

Pulling back, you found his eyes, and the little grin on his face was the very last straw. 

Like a starved woman, you surged forward and cupped the sides of his face to drag him down to meet your lips. Soft and timeless, you sought to engrave the feel of his lips on yours, and yours to his. So just in case he’d ever dreamed of kissing another woman, he never would again.

Your hungry affection only made his infatuation worse; for three long years, Zoro only ever dreamed of you.

Zoro broke the kiss, drawing back and watching as you followed him, dazed like you could hardly believe it. A strand of hair was stuck to your forehead, damp with sweat, and he absently swiped it away. All he wanted to do was admire you, holding you close and breathing you in. 

“Hi.” It was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his arms, a half smile flickering onto your face. You swallowed thickly, hardly believing this was real. “When you didn’t write, I…”

Zoro suddenly remembered who he’d come here with and hoped with everything in him they weren’t standing right behind him like they had been before. “I got caught up.”

“Too caught up to let me know you’re alive?” You could’ve been teasing, but he knew better. He saw it in how your eyes searched his face; he’d scared you.

His eyes went a special kind of soft only one person had ever seen in Roronoa Zoro, and he cupped your face gently. A grin tugged at his lips. “Like anyone could kill me.”

Your own lips twitched upwards as you leaned into his touch. Zoro wet his lips and glanced at the ground. His throat was suddenly dry as sand. “Uhm… I’m… uh…”

“Who’s your friend?” Nami. Voice filled with mirth, he could picture that shit eating smirk on her face before he ever turned around.

He reluctantly peeled away from you, clearing his throat and stepping to the side (He never strayed from your side, his hand finding solace in fidgeting with the frayed end of your shirt). Now came a moment he’d been dreading: the introductions.

You assessed the pair of people standing, and you didn’t know how to feel that they’d probably witnessed the entire display of affection, beginning to end. The entire shipyard did as well, a part of you reasoned, so you brushed it off.

It was a boy and girl, the former wearing a cool straw hat and the latter with even cooler hair the color of tangerines. The girl, who you assumed was the one who’d spoken, wore a thick grin, arms crossed as she leaned into her hip. The boy, however, was glancing between you and Zoro with a puzzled sort of smile.

Zoro’s fingers brushed your hip; he was radiating nerves. “Y/N, this is Luffy and Nami.”

Luffy had eyes so lively you had to offer up a smile, as though your body felt no choice but to mirror just a bit of his obvious enthusiasm. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said, and you felt he really meant it. Luffy tilted his head. “How do you know Zoro?”

“We… go back,” you said, casting Zoro a glance to find his usual deadpan back in place—God, how you’d missed that frown. 

A thought provoked you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been happier, but what the hell are you doin’ here? I thought you’d be—I dunno—on the edge of nowhere sharing a beer with a bagged corpse or something.”

You zeroed in on Nami then, immediately having her beauty carved into your memory. Something oddly possessive welled in your gut before you quickly shut it down. Still, you inched closer to Zoro.

“That’s what we’re here to see you about,” said Zoro, and something about it struck a worry in you. The way your eyes met his must’ve betrayed everything, for his hand moved to grasp your own, speaking a million silent little things.

Sensing a story, you guided them to the closest tavern, finding a nice spot in a low lit booth. Luffy rushed to slide into the booth, followed by Nami. Zoro reached the opposite side of the booth, but took a step back to let you slide in first. 

Pausing to blink up at him, he worried, “You still like sitting on the inside?”

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you nodded, wasting no time in jumping into the booth and tugging him to sit flush against your side. 

In grand detail and elaborate hand motions, Luffy explained their mission: they had a map of the Grand Line, and when they got there, they would find the One Piece, and Luffy would become King of the Pirates.

To say you were at a loss was the understatement of the century. Jaw slack, you looked from Zoro to Nami to Luffy to Zoro, then the whole cycle over again. Finally, you settled for shifting to face Zoro entirely, a slow smirk forming on your lips. “But… Pirates?”

Just some years ago you’d been helping this man put pirates behind bars, you’d taken part in a few murders as well, and now he was trying to tell you he was one of them? You couldn’t help it; you laughed, your hand moving to take his underneath the table. 

Zoro choked on nothing as your thumb ran circles on the back of his hand, but he composed himself enough to shrug. “Surprise.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Almost doe eyed, you gazed all over his sheepish expression, adoration plain on your face. “I bet you’re a shit pirate.”

Nami burst into a laughing fit, eyes alight. He tried to glare, but it failed immediately, everything in him softening the moment he caught your smile.

“He’s great,” Luffy disagreed, grinning back at you. “And he’ll be even better once he’s the world’s—”

“Greatest swordsman,” you finished. Your smile was fond and warm. “I know. You never actually said why you came to Syrup Village, by the way. Not that the tale of your victory over Boogie the Clown wasn’t thrilling.”

Luffy leaned forward. “We need a ship,” he told you. “One worthy of our crew. A home.”

“Well,” you said, “if you see one you like, I know someone who can help you buy it. He knows the Shipyard owner.”

If possible, Luffy’s smile grew. “I’ve got my eyes on one already. The one with the goat figurehead! That’s our ship.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. You knew the ship he spoke of, and it would be a pricey one, that’s for sure. Instead of lying to Luffy’s face, you chose to focus your attention back on Zoro, whose eyes had never left your face. 

“Come on.” You tapped Zoro’s thigh to urge him out of the booth, grinning at how he went pink in the ears as he slid out. “My friend’ll work something out.”

You took the lead out of the tavern and to the Shipyard, eyes scouring the sailors for your friend as Nami and Luffy fell behind, almost of one mind as they sidled up to their solemn companion, caging him between them. Zoro’s gaze remained glued to your back, not willing to cast them even a glance. 

Luffy bumped his shoulder. “I think your friend was pretty happy to see you after all.” The tease in his voice was evident.

Zoro somehow kept from snarling when he snapped back, “I said she would be.”

“Never,” Nami chuckled, “would I have ever guessed you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not…” Zoro watched you longingly—he watched the way you waved kindly to people as you passed, how your very essence gave life to your surroundings—and he sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami kept her voice low. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that how you greet all your friends?”

He didn’t answer, allowing their soft laughter to eat up his silence.

The truth of it was that this had gone better than Zoro had ever expected. His entire body still felt the burn of you against him, your lips on his—he stopped that thought where it stood, feeling that old flush creeping back up his neck. 

He had to talk to you—alone. He had to say so many things that he wasn’t exactly sure where to start. An apology. That’s where he’d go from. 

Unbeknownst to the whispers behind you, you were approaching the ship of Luffy’s affections, which you thought you remembered Usopp being on rotation for. 

You cupped your hands around your mouth and called out, “Usopp! Hey, Usopp!”

A moment later a grinning face popped up from behind the deck of the ship, sweat beaded on his brow as he threw his rag over his shoulder and leaned over to see her better. “Y/N!” He scanned the lot of them. “And company?”

The three following you finally caught up, the swordsman taking his place by your side. You shot him a little grin and tugged on his sleeve to draw him closer to you. “Usopp! I’ve got some friends wantin’ to talk to Kaya ‘bout a ship!”

Zoro turned his head toward you with his eyes still on Usopp as the boy scrambled down to meet them. “Kaya?”

“The friend of a friend. Hella rich and owns the Yard,” you muttered back. He nodded, not minding one bit when you linked your index finger with his. 

As he watched you as though you’d hung the very stars in the sky whilst you explained the situation to Usopp, he knew the second thing he’d say. He would work up the nerve to say what he couldn't three years ago.

જ⁀➴

The house—no, the mansion ahead was more extravagant than Zoro had seen in some time. He’d been close to your side the whole walk with Usopp, close enough so you could hear every one of his gripes about their guide’s questionable credibility. You giggled and bumped his shoulder every time, so he kept it up. 

“He’s… imaginative,” you defended, chewing your lip. “Relax. Kaya’ll let you buy the ship for sure. No thievery even necessary.”

He quirked a brow, amusement playing on his face. “How’d you…”

“Nami’s been swipin’ stuff off vendor carts.” You shrugged. “I figure stealing a ship is her first thought.”

Zoro couldn’t help but grin down at you, and when you met his eyes—oh, how deep his eyes were—you lost all sense of gravity. You nearly tripped over a rock before Zoro caught your arm and steadied you, chuckling at your expense. 

“Careful,” he teased, worsening the red in your cheeks. You stuck out your tongue in defense.

It was difficult for Zoro to stop looking at you, even as Kaya hobbled out of her home on the arm of her butler. If possible, you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. 

He tried not to be too miffed when you fled from his side to greet Kaya in a happy birthday embrace, especially when you offered Klahadore a curt nod and rushed back to hook your arm through his. Zoro glanced at you, then at the butler, and had the sense he’d seen the proper looking man before. He just couldn't place where from.

The turn of events was less than pleasing. Now, Zoro had to sit through a fancy dinner with too many people around, and probably not a chance to whisk you away from the prying eyes of his newfound crew. 

The dirty lot of you were ordered to clean up and only then shoved into Kaya’s expansive dressing room to find suitable clothes for dinner. Zoro walked into the dressing room in a soft black robe, feeling one hundred percent clean for the first time in a while. 

Instantly, his gaze gravitated to you examining the rows and rows of clothing, a number of dresses draped on your arm. Nami was moving quickly through the racks, every once in a while resting a dress she’d found on your shoulder and muttering something Zoro couldn’t catch. To both Zoro’s amusement and annoyance, you and Nami seemed to have hit it off instantly. 

He didn’t want to bother you, not when you looked to be having fun, so he took the first black thing he found and sat down on a chair near the corner. Zoro almost wanted to take a nap the second he sat down; even Kaya’s chairs felt expensive.

You dodged yet another dress from Nami, giggling, and caught sight of Zoro, appearing pleasantly surprised.

“Zoro!” Your smile was blinding. You swiftly passed a hand over the many clothes in your arms and grabbed what must’ve been your two favorites, dropping the rest in a lazy pile beside you. “I kinda feel bad not telling Vee where I am. She probably thinks I’m drunk in a barrel again.”

You disappeared behind a folding room divider, laughing under your breath. The two dresses were thrown to drape over the divider, and soon your clothes joined them. Zoro tried not to picture it too much, especially when he caught Nami staring at him with a mischievous grin. 

He ignored her and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion never too far away. Zoro remembered the doctor he’d left you with. She had seemed nice enough at the time, so it was good to know she hadn’t murdered you in the night, or something like that. “Vee’ll be fine.”

Nami headed for the door, her chosen dress in hand and a toothy grin on her face as she nodded exaggeratedly toward the divider you stood behind. Now, Zoro might have rolled his eyes, and he might have flipped her off, but only because he’d drink acid before telling Nami he was grateful.

“Ay, Nami?” you called. “Can you help me with this?”

He was grateful till just then, as his gaze locked on the divider and his heart picked up a considerable pace. Your shadow danced on the wall behind the divider, and Zoro forgot how to speak. All he could do was think many thoughts he’d put off for a very long time.

Three years had given him a lot of time to think—he thought a lot about you, and his regrets, and how he wished it were easier for him to just tear out his heart and stitch it to his sleeve. You certainly made it look easy.

But it wasn't, and Zoro couldn’t change that anytime soon. He wasn’t too worried about it, though. You had this uncanny way of knowing exactly what he was trying to say, even when he said it all wrong.

“Nami?”

“Nami’s gone,” he said, voice near cracking. He grimaced and stood from his chair. “Can I help?”

There wasn’t so much as a hesitation before you answered, “Mhmm. Come ‘ere.”

His feet moved before he ever told them to. Zoro still wasn’t entirely sure if he enjoyed this chokehold you had on him... but then he was rounding the divider warily, finding you standing with your back to him, squirming around as you tried to reach the zipper of your dress, and he took it back. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth and then some, probably.  

Lips twitching upward, he stepped up behind you, his hands ghosting your skin as if he wasn’t sure what to do. His eyes raked up your back, and he froze. A thin white scar ran across your skin.

You peered up into the mirror in front of you, simultaneously locking eyes with the green-haired man. He didn’t look like he was breathing, almost afraid to touch you, it seemed. “Zoro?”

He hummed distantly. You grew concerned at the cloudiness in his eyes, and then his fingers ghosted your skin, tracing a line you’d memorized and yet somehow forgotten. Oh. 

You spun around and sighed as he took a considerate step back. You tried to speak, but nothing came to mind. How could you have forgotten your scar? How could you have just let him see it? You frantically fumbled to pull the zipper up yourself, stammering, “Zoro, I, uhm…”

His jaw set all of a sudden, and he met your gaze head on. “I’m… sorry. That I left.”

You did not want to have that conversation. Not right now. You could save it for later, after the nice dinner, after you relished in ignoring the elephant standing in the corner. Because as much as you shoved it all down, Zoro had left you there, and it’d taken him three years to come back, as promised. 

But he came back, you reminded yourself. A little devil in your mind piped in, not for you though.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms over your chest. “I understand why.”

“But I regret it. Everyday.” Zoro raked a hand through his hair. “Everyday I wanted to come back.”

It looked like he’d been bottling all that up, and you wondered if the words had been on the tip of his tongue from the moment he laid eyes on you. “Why didn’t you?”

“I… I didn't know if…”

“If…”

Zoro looked anywhere but you, wetting his lips. If your life was better without me. “If you liked it here.”

You really, truly couldn’t help it; you laughed. You laughed and laughed till your sides ached and you teetered to the side before Zoro’s hands settled on your shoulders to steady you.  “Don’t laugh! I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Slowly, the smile slipped from your face as you reached for his hand and cupped it in both of yours. “Zoro, everyday for three years I waited for you, because you made me a promise… But I need to know… Would you have come back if it wasn’t convenient? I mean, did you really plan on it anytime soon?”

He tried to pull away and you nearly thought of letting him, before you laced your fingers with his and refused to let him go. Cold worry flooded your gut. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair—”

“It’s fair,” he cut you off. Zoro looked down at your interlocked hands. “I told you I’d come back. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Still, he hadn’t answered the question, and you needed to know. “So, would you have?”

Zoro didn’t answer right away, practically giving you heart palpitations as he took his sweet time. “I want you to be there, when I defeat him.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his face drawn close to yours, eyes hung. “Hawkeye Mihawk is harder to find than I thought. Time kept slipping by and… I don’t know. I got…” 

Scared, but he didn’t want to say that. Fortunately, you read between the lines, squeezing his hand. He sighed, eyes shut as his head drifted to rest against yours. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, raising your hand to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck. “I probably would have waited till then, to be perfectly honest.” Your cheeks warmed, gaze lowering. You raised a brow at the robe tied around him, breaking you out of the moment. “This what you’re wearin’ to dinner?”

There was a tease in your voice that had Zoro rolling his eyes as he slipped his hand back into yours and tugged you out from behind the divider. He dropped your hand only to pick up the suit jacket and hold it out to you for you to inspect. 

Brows still vaulted, you looked up through your lashes, smirking. “Hon’, you can’t just wear a jacket.”

He blinked, giving a bashful scoff. “I know that.”

He was too busy not being embarrassed to notice when you shook your head and skipped past him, planting a kiss on his cheek as you passed. 

“Hmm.” You skimmed through some of the clothes, finding a dress shirt that stood out to you. “Here. Try this.”

You took a hanger and held it up for him to see. Zoro wrinkled his nose. “It’s pink.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the shirt into his hands and moved to find some pants. “I like pink. You like me. Therefore, you like pink.”

Zoro doubted that logic, but you were practically an angel in disguise with the way you glided back over to him and handed over a pair of black dress pants. Your smile was a dangerous thing, because the more he looked at it the more you made a whole lot of sense. 

“Fine,” he murmured, disappearing behind the divider and emerging a few moments later, decked out in clothes nicer than he felt he deserved. 

You turned, about to say something when you laid eyes on him and faltered. Your eyes reflected a longing affection that had Zoro flustered in an instant, clearing his throat and cracking his neck in the silence. The fond grin on your face threatened to have him crumbling at your feet.

“Something on my face?”

A beautiful laugh bubbled from your chest, a happy warmth in your cheeks as you smoothed down the fabric of his jacket, resting your palms on his chest. The topmost buttons of the pink dress shirt were yet to be fastened, and you moved to finish it up all while that lovely smile graced your lips.

You were halfway done with the last button when Zoro’s hand cradled the back of your head, angling you to look at him again. Breath hitched, the words begged to be set free. Always on the tip of his tongue. “I…”

And for once, you were patient, more patient than he ever deserved. Zoro felt panic well up in his lungs, deep in his heart, and he abandoned the attempt altogether, surging forward to catch your lips against his. You had no complaints, sighing as your fingertips tickled the skin of his neck. 

“Guys!”

“No, Luffy, stop!”

The swift footfalls of Luffy followed his shout. You snapped away from Zoro, the both of you taking a swift step back. 

Your foot caught the pile of dresses you’d left, a yelp fleeing your lips as you fell flat on your back into the clothes. Zoro took one look at you and coughed, literally choking on a sudden laugh.

Luffy rushed into the room, stopping at the door. Nami stumbled after him with a glare and hissed, “Luffy!”

He cast her an odd look. “What?” Not paying Nami any more mind, Luffy grinned and said, “Come on, I can smell dinner.”

You let out a huff as Zoro grinned down at you, holding out a hand to pull you up. Hobbling on your feet, you patted Zoro’s arm and swept past him, approaching Nami with a smile.

“Oh, you look lovely,” you awed, admiring her fixed hair and light make up.

Nami raised her shoulders to meet her ears, saying, “I try.”

Following her down the hall, Zoro was left with Luffy, who said suddenly, “Why was she on the floor?”

Somehow refraining from rolling his eyes, Zoro simply left it at that, trudging after you and Nami.

જ⁀➴

Things had gone south very, very quickly. You hadn’t been so exhilarated in years. 

The dinner was exquisite, but that was where the good things ended. Your late night search for water was cut short by the sound of voices from the entry hall.

Rushing to the edge of the banister, you found Kaya’s housekeepers dragging Luffy outside and handed over to the marines, the butler standing there void of any expression. That, paired with the sudden disappearance of all your friends from their rooms, was starting to be a bit more than what you signed up for.

“Hey!” you shouted, voice bellowing down the foyer. You nearly face planted down the stairs with how frantically you ran down them. “Let ‘im go!”

Klahadore gave you one conniving glare and pushed his glasses back up his nose. The second your feet hit the floor, Sham, that mousy little maid, jumped you and had your hands twisted behind your back. No amount of struggling ever loosened her grip, and she’d kicked in the back of your knees before you could even think to swipe at her feet.

“Ah,” drawled the butler. You huffed, shaking, and met the man’s black eyes. “Another of these Strawhats, as you called them. Care to take another pirate off our hands?”

There stood two young looking boys, decked out in matching marine uniforms, but one had cropped pink hair and the other had a shock of horrendously cut blond hair. The blond stepped forth with a tight smile. “Gladly. Thank you for your assistance, sir. You’ve helped to make the seas safer.”

Two other marines came out to take you by your arms while you grunted out curses. You could only get one look over your shoulder as the mansion doors shut behind you, giving you a clear view of the dark smile curling up Klahadore’s face. You fought tirelessly. “Hey! Hey! I—I’m not a pirate! He’s lying! Let me—Luffy! What’s wrong with Luffy?!”

The boy with pink hair was in your face then, his expression much softer than the others. “Calm down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You hardly believed that, but the kindness emanated in the boy’s tone was just enough to ease your struggling. Still heaving, you cast a look over at Luffy, who was being dragged along ahead of you. His head lolled at his shoulders and his feet dragged along behind him. “What’s wrong with Luffy?”

“He’s only drunk,” said the blond, though he amended himself upon hearing a not so comforting sound come from Luffy’s gut. “Probably…” 

“He’s sick,” you cried. 

“Drunk,” the blond marine insisted, putting an end to the matter by turning on his heel.

You looked back at Kaya’s mansion, which grew smaller by the second, and panic welled in your chest. Something was very, very wrong. Why had the butler done that? Who was Klahadore really? What were the marines there for? Where was Zoro?

Luffy’s sudden hurling almost gave you a heart attack, momentarily causing the marines at your sides to lose focus as tons of blue gunk flew out of Luffy’s mouth… and onto the blond marine. You couldn’t help it—you laughed, almost delirious, throwing your head back and all. The pink haired marine cracked a smile while the other four marines grimaced.

Released out of the marines’ grasp, Luffy hit his knees and heaved onto the dirt, expelling the rest of whatever poison he’d gotten a hold of. His distress sobered you instantly, and with your captors distracted you rushed forth to kneel beside him. When the marines lunged to catch you, the pink haired marine, presumably the one in charge despite his small stature, ordered them, “Stop. She won’t run.”

This guy honestly gave you too much benefit of doubt, but still, he was right; you didn’t run. Instead, you rubbed calming circles on Luffy’s back as the kind marine kneeled beside you, looking concerned himself. 

At your glare, he murmured, “I’m Koby. I… I know him.”

You blinked. “Small world.”

“Yep.”

Luffy gave one last cough, and with another gasp he raised his head to stare dazedly from you to Koby. His eyes narrowed in confusion upon finding the boy there. “Koby? I… I gotta go back.” 

There wasn’t any room for argument in his tone, his gaze shifting to settle on you. “That butler… He’s gonna kill Kaya, and then he’s going after our crew.”

“No.” Breathing shaky, your jaw set. You made to jump to your feet and bolt back to the mansion when you remembered you were technically still a prisoner, your glare returning at full force. 

Koby looked to be at a terrible loss, saying, “I’m under direct orders to bring you in.”

“Kaya’s going to die,” you snapped at him, causing Koby to almost flinch. “You want her blood on your hands, marine?”

Much softer, much less angry, Luffy set a hand on Koby’s shoulder and said, “You said you wanted to help innocent people. Kaya’s innocent.”

For an everlasting moment, you thought maybe Koby was going to let you go. The consideration crossing his eyes was sign enough. And then it all went to complete shit.

The blond marine scoffed. “Know what?” He retrieved his pistol from its holster and loaded it in one motion, running your blood cold. “Screw this.”

Koby jumped to his feet. “Helmeppo, don’t!” he ordered, falling on deaf ears.

There was no shake in the marine’s hand as he stared down a solemn Luffy. “Father always said a dead pirate weighs the same as a live one.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, you rose to your feet and inched yourself a good distance away from Luffy. “Helmeppo?” you scoffed, a panicked tilt to your voice. “That’s one step away from being hippo, dude. Back up.”

Eyes aflame, Helmeppo blinked his attention away from Luffy to find you, just like you wanted. 

Koby almost shouted, “Garp gave us strict orders.”

Helmeppo’s glare remained zeroed in on you. “Concerning this one,” he said, jutting his chin at Luffy, “but you.” He shifted to aim at you, a sadistic grin marking his face. “Garp doesn’t want you.”

Your heels dug into the dirt, a slight ring in your ears. It’d been some time since you stared down a gun. Luffy jumped up and took a threatening step toward the marine. “Leave her alone.”

“I will,” Helmeppo barked. “If you start walking, pirate, or she dies.”

You swallowed thickly. Where the hell was Zoro? “Have you ever even fired one of those before, cadet?”

You were certain Helmeppo would have at least bashed you over the head with the butt of his gun for that, had the pained grunts and clank of metal not cut jaggedly through the air. The bodies of the other marines sunk to the ground, unmoving, and a shadow stepped out of the dark.

In the flicker of the pathway torches stood the Demon Pirate Hunter, looking absolutely pissed.

He took one look at Helmeppo, saw where his gun was pointed, and sneered. “Hey, haircut.”

You’d never seen someone drop their gun so fast, the weapon hitting Helmeppo’s thigh. All your bravery fled your body as your steeled back shoulders dropped, allowing yourself to feel every bit of fear now that Zoro was there. It would’ve been sad to die like that, you thought.

But a sense of comfort followed that fear. You weren’t going to die—there was Zoro, and Zoro would never let you die by the hands of some arrogant marine. He wouldn’t let you die, period.

The devil-eyed man approached, looking only at you and the relieved smile tugging at your lips. He stopped, landed a knockout punch to Helmeppo’s face, and barely shook out his fist like it was nothing.

Helmeppo’s head hadn’t so much as hit the ground before you were racing at Zoro, jumping over the unconscious soldier. You hooked your arms around Zoro’s neck in a tight hug. “You’re alive.”

“Have a little faith,” he muttered back, pulling away to offer a teasing smile. 

Luffy let out a victory cry and quickly dealt with Koby, ditching the panicked soldier on the road as the three of you ran back to Kaya’s mansion. 

The massive house came into focus, basked in the darkness of night. Luffy left to find Kaya as you pulled out your dagger, ready for a fight, only for Zoro to tap your shoulder gently. His bandana was tied securely around his head, his brows drawn taut, and it took you far too long to realize he was holding out that white hilted sword you’d polished and shined too many times to count times.

You stared at it for far too long as well, bringing Zoro to roll his eyes. “You’re not fighting with a knife. Take it.” At your raised brows, he grabbed your hand and forced his sword into your palm, giving you a meaningful look.

“You’re not out of practice, are you?” he asked, a tease in his voice as he headed for the mansion doors. 

Spinning the Wado Ichimonji around your hand, you shot him a grin. “Please. You think I went three years and never picked up a sword?” You tsked. “And let all your training go to waste?”

Huffing out a chuckle, Zoro shoved open the doors and warily went inside. You cast his sword a fond glance, shook out your shoulders, and followed suit. Despite your assurances, you were nervous. More nervous than when you were staring down Helmeppo’s pistol. 

Practicing swordsmanship on scarecrows was much different than actually fighting a warm body. Warm bodies fight back. 

Adjusting your grip on the hilt, you raised the blade and sweeped the area, locking eyes with Zoro a moment later. The foyer was empty. It was quiet. Zoro’s eyes widened upon something behind you, giving you just enough time to whip around and parry the strike of Sham.

The maid still wore her work attire, but now she held a silver shortsword in hand, black paint drawing the shape of a cat’s nose down her face. Buchi lunged out as well, catching his two swords against Zoro’s. 

You shoved off of Sham and scurried back to escape her unrelenting strikes. Dodging around a small table you spun to swing at her neck before she could change directions. She jerked away with a literal hiss, eyes flashing.

Sham scooped a broom off the ground and jumped high into the air, moving the broom and the sword in a cross as she landed a blow against the flat of your blade. With a grunt of exertion you ducked and swept under her arm, Sham’s strength working against her as she went flying forward.

Buchi chased Zoro up the staircase, taking out some posts on the banister. Startling at the sound of cracking wood, Sham got a stab at you, catching your blade arm. Wincing through the pain you tightened your grip on the Wado Ichimonji, dodging this way and that to avoid being skewered by Sham’s advances.

“Hey!” Zoro snapped, dragging Sham’s attention to him. He leaped off the stairs and cut her broom in half, finding himself now under the attack of both Black Cats. 

Chest heaving, you rolled out your shoulder and bit back a whine at the shudder of pain, swapping the sword to your other hand. Zoro lunged around Sham and sought high ground back on the stairs. Sham grinned up at him, showing off his second sword she’d swiped from its sheath. 

An annoyed tick appeared on Zoro’s jaw. 

You seemed to have been forgotten in favor of better competition, slinking into the shadows of the room. Sham stabbed Zoro’s sword into the cabinet beside her, leaving it unattended as she and Buchi cornered Zoro on the stairs. 

He swiftly leaped over them and retrieved his sword, locking you in place with a glare. Don’t move, it said. Stop while you’re ahead.

Ears ringing, you traced the line of action as Zoro fought the two pirates down to the center of the room again. He knocked Sham aside only for Buchi to lunge again, allowing the other to get back up again. Zoro shoved Buchi against the ground, successfully knocking him out. 

Letting out a hiss, Sham ran at him and nicked his cheek, knocking one sword from his hand as he evaded another hit. Something furious welled up and out of you.

“Hey!” Rushing forth, you caught her by surprise, pressing your sword against hers with all your weakening might. Her footing was off, her legs collapsing long enough for you to descend upon her and bash the brunt of the sword against her skull. 

The newfound silence crackled in the air between you and your swordsman. Breathing deeply, you suddenly let out a curse, dropping Zoro’s sword as the gash on your arm finally strained from that last blow. 

“Fuck.” You shook out your arm to stave off the pain. “Shit-shit-shit, that hurt. Gah!” Then noticing the Wado Ichimonji on the floor, “Oh, I dropped it, I’m sorry—”

You kneeled down and picked it up in your good arm, still rolling out your shoulder even as you held it out for him, eyes shining with an innocent adoration as if you hadn’t just jumped a woman for him. 

Zoro only stood there in complete and utter awe, three years worth of dreams and nightmares flooding his head as you stood before him. Fighting alongside him. Just like you used to. Like he dreamed of. Like he wanted to for the rest of your lives. He heaved, struggling to get enough air.

“I love you.” A hefty weight was lifted off his strained shoulders.

His eyes bore into yours as he caught his breath, nearly nervous in how he watched you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if your heart exploded, giving way to every feeling coursing through your veins. A smile split across your face, you set the sword on the ground to rush at him, removing all space between you and him, flushing yourself to his chest. 

Sham and Buchi’s swift swordsmanship was nothing compared to the speed at which you left kisses on his face, leaving no skin unloved. Zoro’s face scrunched up through a laugh, light and airy, his cheeks dusted pink.

Finished with your attacks you pressed your forehead to his, cradling his head in your hands and just breathing in the moment. The two pirates were groaning at your feet, but you hardly heard it, swaying in the silence.

“This was well worth the wait,” you said.

He hummed his agreement against your lips, ghosting a kiss, meaning to really kiss you till you physically forced him away, when a voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

“Oh,” Kaya awed, arm hooked through Usopp’s. “How sweet.”

Zoro tried to back away when you hooked a hand around his neck and yanked him down to your level, kissing him gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, the pair of you ignoring Usopp’s encouraging holler. “So, so, so much.”

Behind you, Sham started to wriggle awake. The smile slid fast from your face as you whirled around and gripped her by the hair, ordering Zoro to get a rope so you could secure your two prisoners.

Zoro grinned lovingly as the rest of the crew descended the stairs. “Yes ma'am.”

જ⁀➴

“I hereby call this ship,” Luffy began to declare, turning away from a teary eyed Kaya to face the grand vessel on the sunny shipyard. “The Going Merry!”

“It’s yours now,” Kaya smiled. “Your new home.”

In reply Luffy let out a shrill cry of victory, dragging a chuckle out of you. Your arm was freshly bandaged, all three of Zoro’s swords now back in their rightful sheaths. You leaned on him slightly, chin rested on his shoulder as your eyes begged for some rest. 

Luffy turned to smile at Usopp, who’d wandered some distance away. “Usopp! What’re you waiting for?”

Usopp stumbled over his words, trying his hardest not to seem excited at the prospect, and after a brief goodbye with Kaya followed by a sweet kiss, he agreed. Before you could even smile, a worried figure broke through the crowds of the shipyard.

“Oh, God,” Vee cried as soon as she spotted you. She jumped over a rail and down some stairs to envelope you in her arms. “I heard about what happened!”

Nami tilted her head. “How on earth did you hear?”

Vee waved off her question with a brief the grannies hear everything and took you by the shoulders. “I never liked that butler, I—” 

She noticed Kaya standing to the side, her mouth snapping shut. “I’m… sorry for your losses, Miss Kaya.”

The sweet girl simply smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Luffy clapped Usopp on his shoulder, smile bright as the sun, and turned his sights on his next recruit. Luffy zeroed in on you, calling out, “Y/N! You’re coming, right?”

Vee cast him an odd glance, shifting her gaze back to you. “What…”

She blinked and seemed to only just notice the swordsman at your shoulder, and she let out a gentle laugh. “Would you look at that? Speak of the devil.”

Zoro scoffed, half grinning. “Hey, Vee.”

Realization was slowly dawning on the woman as she took your hand in hers. “So… This means you’re off then?”

You were almost reluctant to nod. “Yes.”

A hundred different thoughts flashed across her eyes, lips pursing, before Vee nodded firmly. “Right. You’ll need supplies, won’t you? Some herbs and bottles, to continue your work. A textbook maybe.” Her hand found your cheek as she gave a watery smile. “You’re exceptional, you know. I’m proud of my apprentice.”

A burn welled up in your throat as you cupped her hand. “What about you? Who’ll help with the clinic?”

“You know, Vee,” Usopp cut in. “Kaya was just saying she’d like to be a doctor.”

Kaya gently smacked his arm, reprimanding him as Vee blinked surprisedly.  “Really? Uhm, well, I’d be happy to teach you, get you ready for academy entries… If that’s something you’d like?”

“Yes,” Kaya blurted, flushing slightly through her barely suppressed smile. 

“Great!” Luffy exclaimed, locking eyes with you. “You’re in, then?”

You took in a steadying breath, your hand searching sightlessly behind you, Zoro’s hand meeting yours moments later. “I’m in.”

Nami leaned into her hip, grinning. “Good. I don’t know how much more testosterone I could take.”

The lot of you set off in different directions, off to gather supplies as quickly as possible to get off the island before the marines caught back up. You lagged behind, Zoro falling into step beside you.

He offered you a little smile and moved his arm around your shoulder, liking the feel of you tucked into his side. It finally settled in that this was happening. Years of wishing finally came to fruition. You pressed a kiss to the back of Zoro’s hand.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you confessed.

“I swore, didn’t I?” Zoro said.

Through a blinding smile, you stopped and kissed him. “You did.” Your fingertips grazed the back of his neck as you held him close, running a shiver down his spine. You pressed your forehead to his and mused, “We’re still not the greatest apothecary and swordsman in the world though.”

“Dracule Mihawk is hard to find—”

“I’m kidding. We’ve got all the time in the world to get there.”

Although you weren’t exactly sure how one becomes the greatest apothecary in the world, you were exactly sure that wherever your ambitions took you, Zoro would be there. If you had any influence on fate, you would sail together till the end of your days.

જ⁀➴

Four rickety boned women stood along the wall of the tavern, hawkeyed gazes scouring the streets of Syrup Village. Martha, June, Polly, and of course, Miss Irma.

Irma massaged at her ever-pained neck, searching out something of interest, when her ears caught the tail end of a laugh. Sweeping the street, her gaze stopped upon a shocking sight.

Well, she thought, that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Miss Kaya from the mansion estate was leaving the town clinic, arm in arm with that troublesome Usopp. Irma harrumphed, thinking Miss Kaya should know better than to keep such company, when she noticed Usopp was followed by some odd companions.

A ginger girl looking worse for wear, a boy with a straw hat so worn she wouldn’t be surprised if the wind blew it apart, and Vee, the village doctor. A fairly odd group indeed.

She hummed curiously, especially when the door to the clinic swung open once more to reveal Vee’s apprentice, a full to the brim satchel on her shoulder. Irma swatted at her three friends and pointed their attention to the sight just as someone else followed the girl out of the clinic.

Martha gaped, her cigarette falling to the ground. Irma, June, and Polly reacted the same, not entirely believing it.

Right behind the apprentice walked a handsome young man with a shock of green hair and three swords at his hip, a gentle smile on his face as he tugged on the girl’s arm to get her to face him again. Turning around, she was greeted with a kiss to her forehead and a gaze so warm Irma felt its heat from across the street.

“It’s—It’s that boy,” Polly exclaimed. “The one that left her.”

Irma started to grin a satisfied kind of grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pay up, ladies. I told you he’d come back for her.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nadlx33333 @fluffybunnyu @ellisaworld @hawkins-2000 @bdudette @misfits1a @star-yawnznn

This is all over my fyp on tiktok.

I want one but college is turning my money into nothing.

I WANT ONE FOR MY DESK!!!

(he's so...) Yeah that's that.

my cousin's are so funny when they're drunk HAHAHAHH

They're doing their make up while drinking hahahaha

Rewatching divergent, insurgent and allegiant because why not. (He's so hot)

I know he looks old, but i can't help but see it. If shanks and mihawk had a son (which is impossible since they are the same gender but if it is possible) they would have looked like this man if they reached a certain age.